sunshineverse | Lantern Sending Festival

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Lantern Sending Festival

The Event Details as Relevant to Characters
Dates: December 17th-25th
Where: Sunagakure

Every year, Suna takes this week and turns it into a time to honor those they've lost over the course of the year. It's one of the only times during the year, Exams excluded, that Suna really welcomes people from outside the village, feeling that anyone is welcome to revere the dead, so long as they're respectful about it.

Every evening will see people sending lit lanterns out of the village, many of which will have letters to the dead. During the day beforehand, there is usually a rather vibrant festival air, where local treats can be gotten and games can be played. All of these close up after dark so as not to disgrace those doing a sending except for the food sellers, and it's not unheard of that child toys can be found in excess during this time as well.

The History Behind the Holiday
The holiday has rather interesting beginnings, as once upon a time it was just a local tradition to send up lanterns at funerals, with no big fanfare otherwise being given. Now, this holiday has taken on a day and a purpose, after the story of the man who lost everyone, and was given them back by the lady of reincarnation. Due to this, it's not unheard of that children are conceived during this holiday under the belief that they might be revived loved ones.

The Story
The story begins with a man, whose name is long forgotten, who had lost everyone to war and sickness. His three children, a son and two daughters, his wife, his brother, his nephew, and even his parents were all lost to him, leaving him with nothing but grief and sadness. It was a terrible year, and he did not know how he could recover from the last of his losses, his four-year-old daughter, the youngest of the children and the longest to survive. He strongly considered joining them.

Instead, he wrote a letter, spilling out his grief and sadness, detailing how much he missed them to every loved one lost in that year and the year before. He knew no one on this plane could read the words he wrote, but that did not mean that they might not reach the next. Thus, that day, when he would have sent up a paper lantern for his daughter's memory, he made it from that long, heart-rending letter, and sent that instead.

What he did not expect was for a woman to come to him later that night, wiping his tears and saying nothing at all, who took him into her arms and comforted away his sorrows. By morning she was gone, leaving only the memory of warmth behind. He thought he dreamed her, in his pain, and thought nothing more of it until she came to him, a child in her arms, and smiled a beautiful smile at him as she handed him the child. A boy, one who looked exactly as his dead son. When he looked up she was gone, leaving the child with him, and no matter how he searched, no one had heard of her.

Thus, on the same week as the year before, he sent up another lantern, and he was joyous that she came to him, staying with him until morning as his son slept in his bassinet nearby.

Just as the year before, she returned to him again later in the year, giving him a child. He did not recognize this one at first, for he had not known his dead wife as a child, but when he went digging through pictures he held of his family, that informed him of who his little girl was. Of course, the woman did not stay any more than she had the year before, and he, being too busy with two small children, could not search.

Instead, he focused, sending up no lanterns that year, save one in the spring for a neighbor which did nothing at all.

It was only when he sent up lanterns that week of winter that she ever came, to bring him a tiny babe in the form of someone once lost to him, and thus he called to her whenever he thought himself ready for more of his family to be returned to him.

At least, until the day when his lost were all with him again, and she no longer answered.

Still, he knew she got his letters, and thereafter sent them all the same so that she would know he did not forget to give her his gratitude for giving him something to live for again.

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The girls wouldn't be going anywhere for a while, at least. The seal on the door was a strong one, and he trusted the orders, and the decency not to break the windows, to keep them inside. That, and they were young yet, and even as Hoshigaki he'd kept them going enough to make them at least a little tired.

Kisame was tired too, but in a very different way. The lantern in his fingers was like a burning coal, and the sword over his shoulder felt heavier than Samehada ever had, and his steps were slow and heavy as a result. This moment was always the hardest one.

Perhaps it was his distraction and preoccupation that let him get so close to someone else. He hadn't expected to run into anyone on this side of the guest quarters so late, and it was with mild surprise that he saw an actual familiar face.

"Neji-san. This is unexpected."

Neji was perched in the lounge, the noise of the building and festivities low and somber for the time of night. Outside the window, lanterns were still fading into the stars. He wondered if Temari was still out there, was briefly tempted to seek her out through the Byakugan, but his attention was drawn away as someone crested the stairs.

He wasn't surprised to see someone he recognized, as there were plenty fellow shinobi that had come along from Konoha, but this was probably the only Kiri-nin he knew personally.

"Kajiki-san," he greeted with a quirk of his lips, folding his book shut. He'd only been half-reading it anyway. "Enjoying the festival?"

Kisame remembered the days he'd spent in Konoha on his mission, and remembered his guide with something that might be called fondness if one was being generous. He'd learned a few things, but more importantly met a shinobi who had had the guts and intuitiveness to realize the deception and call him out on it. He hadn't been able to share the truth then, but having the lie openly acknowledged had helped.

And now, he was no longer on that mission, and he was happy to strip the lies away. "As much as I usually do. But, I'll let little Kajiki-kun know you remembered his name. Kid was a bit too young to come to the festival with us this year."

Kisame paused for a moment and tipped his head to the side. "Now we can be introduced properly, eh? Hoshigaki Kisame."

He didn't add that he was a member of the Seven; if Neji was a ninja worth his salt, he would recognize the name.

So Kajiki was the name of a child, and it was Hoshigaki Kisame that he'd played host to for three days. Neji had known a few things were off when his background inquiries didn't match up.

"Well that explains your chakra reserves. I suppose I'm honored, and somewhat fortunate to have survived such an encounter."

He leaned forward, idly glancing around for those that may have accompanied Kisame, but there didn't seem to be any other Kiri-nin in the immediate vicinity- so far as he could see, anyway. Not that Kisame was here to attack him.

Neji spread his hands out in a peaceful gesture, although a Hyuuga's open palms could be as deceptive as Jyuuken itself.

"You're already familiar with mine. There would have been little point in giving a false name in my home village. I'm afraid I'm not quite as friendly as I may have seemed, however."

Kisame laughed a little. "I'm not that outstanding." There was a pause and a quirk of his smile. "For a Hoshigaki, that is."

It was what the clan was known for, in and out of Water Country, so Kisame felt free to share that information. The Hyuuga had probably learned more from the search he'd no doubt performed. Even before Kiri's founding, the Hoshigaki had been well-known.

"And I wasn't in Konoha to shed blood, eh? Our villages are not at war." There was an unsaid 'right now' at the end of that, because Kisame was always wondering when the next war would start, whether in or out of Kiri. War was always on someone's horizon after all.

But it was the last statement that obviously caught Kisame's attention, and he stood up a little straighter, almost vibrating with interest, but the smile fell, into an intent, but not happy expression.

"I think you've figured out by now that I don't prefer lies, unless I have to, mm, Neji-san? Unfriendly or harsh as you might be, I'd much more enjoy seeing the truth underneath all those pretty lies and layers you wear for others."

Neji shrugged, far from kind enough to argue. Kisame's chakra reserves were quite outstanding in comparison to the shinobi world at large. He'd only met one person that surpassed him and glimpsed a second, as horrifying as that had been. To think an entire clan had reserves like that..

He resisted the urge to stand in response to the challenging glint in the man's expression or the invasive nature of his goading. For all they were apparently on a first name basis, they weren't anywhere close to being friends.

"You have unique views, Kisame-san, but I'm afraid you'd be disappointed. There's nothing particularly interesting about me beyond my bloodline."

Kisame chuckled. “The most interesting are usually the most modest about it. But I can understand wanting to keep your masks in place; we hardly know each other after all. As unfortunate as such lies are, I know how they are clung to for self-protection.”

It was a pity that that was the case, but he couldn’t fault anyone when he wore his grins as a partly false facade to defend against the betrayals and lies of everyone else. Someday he would find a way to be free from them and show the world his true face, no matter what had to happen to do that. Of course by then, maybe he’d be content enough to wear his smiles honestly! Wouldn’t that be an amusing irony?

But as much as he wants to chat, he’s so very aware of the lantern in his hands. It’s mostly written under layers of cyphers, except for the name on it, but it still feels like he’s leaving a vulnerability wide open. His fingers twitch with the urge to put it out of view, but he knows something that obvious will attract attention. The twitch might too, so he more obviously adjust the sheathed blade on his shoulder. Let Neji look at that for a moment. It’s slightly easier to talk about.

Neji wasn't sure how accurate the direction Kisame's logic followed, given just how dull many of his own age group found him to be. Not that it bothered him too much because it was at least part of the reason behind his promotions. At this point, he wasn't even sure it was a front anymore. Certainly, there were things he hid from others, but everyone was hiding something. If anything, the words were more of a glimpse into Kisame's values rather than his own.

Ever wary of threat, white eyes tracked the shark-nin's movements, following the twitch of his fingers to the adjustment of his sword. The motions could've been threatening, but he read unease in the utter lack of purpose in them. It was only slightly ridiculous, given he was the one pitted at a disadvantage. Granted, Suiton didn't work exceedingly well in the desert, he was sure Kisame had more than enough chakra to make up for it. So it wasn't that..

"Do I discomfit you, Hoshigaki-san?"

Kisame had to pause and think about that question. The whole truth would leave him vulnerable, but to lie... He didn't want to do that either. He'd have to find a middle ground between enough and too much truth.

The sword was still the easier thing to talk about, and Kisame moved it from his shoulder to look the sheath over, outwardly inspecting it for defect, but inwardly seeing the memory of Shishou's blood dripping from it.

"Not you, Neji-san. This festival is... strange to someone like me, who even my own comrades call 'Monster.'" He couldn't help the slight sneering twist of his mouth at comrades. Technically, and in name, yes, but truly? There might be one or two he'd call comrade and mean it in the sense most others seemed to in the entire village.

"I wonder sometimes if I have any right to participate."

He shrugged at that, knowing invalidating his own musing. He did wonder, but the comment was thrown out to deflect a little from the real topic, which was his own vulnerability, dangling from his fingers. If someone else could crack that code and read it... Well, they wouldn't.

It was surprising insight, words that made Kisame suddenly seem much more human in their admission. More relatable, on some level, to know he was made of more than sharp grins and an enormous reserve of chakra. All the same, it wasn't too hard to see where such a title came from, unfortunate as the source of it was. Kirigakure was far from the ambivalence of Konoha after all, even if did suspect the moniker was more than skin deep.

"It's a festival to honor the dead," he said simply enough, feeling a touch awkward while Kisame distracted himself with his sword and sheathe. "No one's born alone."

Neji shifted and considered plucking his book back up again in an effort to appear similarly occupied, but elected to call Kisame on his apparent nerves instead. "Is Samehada troubling you, Hoshigaki-san?"

"True enough. It's our actions in life that make us alone." The words were thick and bitter on his tongue. Was he truly better that way? He'd had conversations that threw that into doubt, and yet, here he was, alone. Some small part that he'd worked to crush for all his life groaned weakly and wished not to be, but Kisame ignored it. Now wasn't the time and place for such weakness.

"And is it still honoring when we've made ourselves alone, or is it a selfish act?" Kisame shrugged again. The question was meant to make Neji think; he already knew the answer was the latter. "But as for Samehada, this blade was given to me by the shinobi who's lantern this is. I was never given Samehada; I took it, so there's no place for Samehada tonight."

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Lantern Sending Festival

20th, night

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