Okuri woke from his sleep but did not ponder his dream. He did not truly dream at all. Dreams were the product of the subconscious mind and imagination. All that ever visited Okuri in his slumber was memories of the past, fresh and vivid as the day they had happened. There was sometimes meaning to them, for on occasion, the 7 Tails would pick a memory and show it to him as motivation to carry on. But not now.
The lumbering brute slammed once on Kiba’s door, trusting that it would wake up the tenant. He plodded down the hallway, and eventually to the courtyard. He heard Inuko screaming at his little brother, but he did not care. He was too busy brooding over what this war really meant.
The actions he was taking would forever shape the world’s views upon him. Some would view him as insecure about his position, some would view him as a violent oppressor, and others would view him as being simply territorial. But his reputation amongst the citizens did not matter. Okuri knew that he and those who followed his command must fare well in battle, else the history books would degrade his abilities as a commander. Should he appear strategically incompetent, his inferiors would attempt to take advantage of him. This war was an opportunity to prove that he was more than just a bloodthirsty, power snatching barbarian, but an ideal military leader as well.
It would also prove be his laboratory, and his enemies would be guinea pigs for his experimental techniques. For surely, if there was a human analog as good as an actual human, it was not in Okuri’s possession. Never before had Okuri had so many opponents to experiment upon, and the possible gains stood high.
Akamaru loped out from the building and lay down next to his master. How would this war affect him? It would endanger him, stir up emotions, even maybe kill him….but that was true of anyone who went to war. As for Kiba, he would suffer some relationship difficulties with Inuko…..but that was mainly due to his own stupid ass.
