Syekren silently moved about his room within the ANBU quarters. He was called in to see the Kazekage for the first time since her inauguration and he was a bit out of sorts. He didn't know exactly what to expect but knew that he'd probably have a lot to answer for. That or she simply wanted to meet the man behind the mask and the name, to understand him better and give him orders in person. Either way, Syekren had heard tell she was a medical ninja of some skill and if these rumors were true, he might finally be able to fix the handicap he was stuck with. But how could he know for certain? The fact was, he couldn't. Unless he asked her before hand but that would require coming all the way back here for what he needed, what he'd been keeping preserved in special medicinal goo for all these years: the eyes. Syekren moved over to his dresser, digging in the top drawer underneath articles of unmentionables to find his prize: the jar with two one tomoe tsukiyomi path sharingan. He would transplant one of these into his skull and hopefully strengthen the power within it.

He felt giddy at the possibilities. He would be able to learn Genjutsu rather easily after getting this eye transplanted. Or perhaps, nothing would change at all? The ANBU couldn't bother with what ifs and simply decided to get dressed. Syekren looked over at his ANBU mask and thought for a moment about wearing it out to meet the kage, but since he was already under the administration building and the Kazekage likely knew who he was, he figured it wasn't necessary. He would wear his sleeveless netted shinobi shirt though, just so she'd be able to see the ANBU tattoo, the mark that signified he was a member of the black ops unit, in case she didn't actually know. With that, he dressed in his norm attire of black tabi, sandals and tights, pulling on his sleeveless netted shirt and shinobi vest, looking at his headband that was on his bed. His mind traced back to when he had to get a new headband after losing his old one to some powerful flames and he shuddered.

With a silent resolve, the ninja picked up his hitai-ate and tied it around his forehead, then pulled the left end down over his left eye socket which was empty at this point. Syekren then grabbed the jar containing the eyes and pocketed them, looking around the room as he walked, for anything else that might be important. He grabbed some ryo just in case it was needed and then moved out of the dank room into the dimly lit hallway he was accustomed to. This time he would be taking another way, as he wasn't leaving the building but entering it. He took a left when he usually took a right and found himself down a long tunnel, lit only every few feet by soft lighting, until he came to a fork in the road. The left was a trap, as he well knew and so he took the right to end up at a dead end with a hatch just above his head. With a quickness he pushed up the hatch and jumped up through the open slot now, to land quietly in a dark room. After replacing the hatch, Syekren moved to a door and cracked it to take a peak out. Syekren saw no one and nothing and so he moved out of the room and closed the door behind him, the door disappearing almost completely as it blending into the wall. He was now outside on the Kazekage's balcony, overlooking the village at the most beautiful time: night.

Syekren sighed softly in bliss before he remembered just what he was doing here: seeing the kazekage. She must be in her office at this point, finishing up the mountains of paperwork she was no doubt left by her predecessors.  Truth be told, Syekren hoped this went well as he had a history of good relationships with those in power in the village. He wanted that to continue on. He began to move towards the office when he stopped to consider whether he should enter in the front. But that made no sense, after thinking on it. ANBU were known to just randomly show up and it would not do him any good to break that tradition. So, with as much care and silence as he could muster the ninja moved through the balcony's expanse and into the open balcony doors leading into the Kazekage's office. He leaned against the wall behind the desk, and coughed lightly, his hands in his pockets, his dark blue hue moving around the room.

"Sure has been a while since I've been here. Interesting how it's changed."

WC: 828

Midori’s quill moved elegantly at the paper, a motion she had become used to in her brief time in office as Kazekage thus far. This particular piece of parchment held the details of mission reports, which needed filing before being passed on to the administration office for distribution of reward, report to those who filed the mission, and such forth. The latest was one that made her chuckle somewhat to herself – her own student, Rokumaru Sabaku, helping chart out locations within the desert. The information was always useful, and helped with assigning missions for later expeditions, or patrols, as well as gave the genin of the village a sense of accomplishment and independence – to go out of the village and learn about the surrounding country by themselves.

Her attire was rather formal on this day, much unlike her usual wear that was designed for practicality. A red dress kimono with white, flowered patterns, trailing throughout, and covering it, giving a surprisingly traditional look to the usually nonchalant Midori. Her puppet arm set the quill into the vat of ink that sat at the side readily, and her spare arm moved to the next piece of paper, shifting it over to the centre of the desk, and getting to work on it. Over and over, she repeated this process, signing and checking through the documents, spinning around in her chair every now and again to make sure she didn’t grow bored. There were many things she fully expected and prepared herself for. Sadly, large amounts of paperwork was in fact one of them. She was in charge of the protection and life style of an entire country, and one of the five great villages of the shinobi world. It was no wonder there was lots of paperwork involved.

Midori got up, then, moving over to a shelf holding a varying assortment of objects, picking up in particular a nice sandwich that looked simple enough in appearance, and almost too healthy to be tasty. She took a bite as she walked back to her desk, picking up one of the pieces of paper in particular and scanning through it. A draft of a letter that was important, and one which she had to send the moment she had time. It wasn’t an issue to leave unaddressed after all. Still, she wasn’t too pleased with her draft so far. It felt poorly constructed, too informal, and not at all appropriate for the need. Holding the sandwich in her left hand, and the letter in her right, she began to crush the letter, continuing to quite happily munch away. It was important as a Kage, after all, to stay properly fed.

Sitting back down, Midori plopped the remainder of the sandwich in her mouth, munching on it as she moved to get on with her business. Her grasp returned to the quill, retrieving it from the vat of ink and shifting the next piece of paper to begin writing out a transcription of a newly reported incident. A mission to be assigned, no doubt. The money was already being held by the administration office, so there was little she needed to do with that, however, given the importance of it, she knew it would be requiring a good enough rating of its difficulty to best evaluate which shinobi to assign to the mission, or if it is to be the mission that is put up for those requesting work. It was a simple escort mission to the border, escorting merchants so they don’t die to bandits in the wilderness and dangerous expanse, as well as just some of the less pleasant wildlife. Not too hard, and because of that, not too dangerously ranked. Yet, it was still dangerous, and so, she settled on a middle ground ranking; genin wouldn’t be assigned it, but otherwise, free reign.

There was a sound behind her, a sudden intrusion into the office by the area with the opening to the outside, that wasn’t warranted. She expected it to be just an ANBU, yet due to the suddenness and unplanned intrusion, her grip on the quill was akin to one holding a senbon now, ready to turn and fight if needed. Fortunately, the figure that was behind her spoke up now, addressing nobody in particular yet first getting her attention intentionally by coughing. He spoke about how he had not seen the room in a while, and that it had changed. Sighing to herself silently, Midori simply returned her grip to what it was, going back to scribing at the parchment.

“You know. It’s generally not polite to speak to someone from behind them. What’s to stop you being an enemy? Come, walk around and take a seat.” She said, gesturing with the quill ahead of her, to where on the other side of the desk, there was a single seat. “You must have something to tell me for entering the office in such a fashion. So, if it’s not an emergency, please, take a seat, and get yourself comfortable. I was just about to get myself a drink, so, if you want one, simply say.” She declared, not once looking behind her, and continuing to write. “So, yes. In short, what is it?”

875

Syekren sighed, taking the seat that was offered to him, but deciding not to answer the kazekage just yet. If she didn't know why he was here, then perhaps she hand't been given the message that he was to see her. Which meant that he could make up any excuse at this point. He figured it for the best, however, to go ahead and tell her the truth rather than make something up. Because she might find out one way or the other. On the other hand, he was a ninja sworn to secrecy, and shouldn't divulge secrets in case this woman wasn't who she said she was, but what were the chances of that? He wished they had a secret code to discern if someone was using the transformation jutsu to appear to be someone in power within the village. It would certainly make spotting deceit that much easier and would put all doubt out of their minds. But that would have to wait for another time, perhaps he'd mention it to her this time so that they would be able to do the process of checking and being sure in the future. The young shinobi stared at the ceiling in thought before he decided to give the lady Kazekage an answer. It had to be suitable, without giving all information.

"Hmm. You know, we could do with a code or something, to make sure you're who you say you are. It's a bit late for it today but in future interactions we could use the code to be sure someone isn't impersonating you. It's the ninja world, after all. Impersonating someone in power is rudimentary with the academy level jutsu for transformation. In any case, I'm here because a mutual friend told me that I was to report to you, let you know what I've been up to the last five years I've been away, fill in the blanks, etcetera. I also had a question, if you'd indulge me."

Syekren's eye lazily wandered from the ceiling to his kazekage. Once he'd taken a seat his posture was rather professional and his back stayed rather straight, one leg crossed over the other. While his head had turned to the ceiling and his eye was scanning the room's ceiling itself, then to the room and finally to the Kazekage. He wasn't avoiding eye contact with the woman behind the desk, filling out paperwork and doing her thing. In fact, it wasn't that at all. He was simply looking about the room to ensure that they had nothing to worry about in terms of spying, or hidden dangers. He'd noticed before he sat down that the Kazekage had been in her office a lot, but the load of paperwork hadn't gone down much since new paperwork was brought in everyday, but could someone malicious have access to this office so easily if they did so under the guise of bringing paperwork in? His mind tried to calculate the limitless dangers of such a situation, so much that he had almost forgotten to ask his other question. He had led into it, and stopped while he scanned the room.

"The other thing is, I heard through the grapevine that you know a thing or two about medical ninjutsu. Nothing major, in fact I barely know anything about you save for reports given on the clan you hail from: Ningyou. Being that it's a clan from Sunagakure no Sato, there are quite a few files on it, but nothing too much on you specifically. So, I would like to ask how gifted you are in medical ninjutsu? As I'm sure you're aware, medics are able to preform actions like transplants, and to someone like me, that could be rather invaluable."

His one, dull eye came to rest on her form, studying each of her features in turn. He thought that his research had been a bit intrusive, to say the least, but one had to know what they were getting themselves into. As an ANBU he had access to quite a few files and informational scrolls. From learning jutsu only the ANBU themselves could use, to knowing about certain figures in the bingo book and the clans of Sunagakure no sato, a lot of information was at his disposal. Nothing specific on who sat behind the desk in front of him, though. Only that she hailed from a clan called Ningyou and that she was recently inaugurated, not having the time or chance to do anything of significance. Not that she was a bad kage by any means, just that she was completely new to the scene and hadn't been given her time to settle in and make a name for the village again. This was something that Syekren hoped would be afforded to her, since they hadn't had a decent Kazekage in years.  Or at least, to Syekren's knowledge they hadn't. He'd been gone almost five years and really didn't know much about what had happened in the village, yet he'd still retained his position. Which was strange. But in a village that lacked powerful ninja, he supposed it wasn't all that strange.

Syekren sighed a bit, fishing around in his pocket to grip the jar containing the two infantile sharingan eyes. One that he hoped would soon accompany his other sharingan within his skull. Hopefully then his handicap would be fixed and he could become the ninja he needed to be to help the village remain a seat of power, and become more powerful. Otherwise he feared he'd be left without other options than to seek outside help for such a task and he didn't know whether or not he could trust someone else to help him with this. In truth, he had asked the Kazekage because she was the leader of the village he resided in, as well as the one who's orders he would be following from this day on. He had to put his faith into her for such a delicate procedure and he quietly pulled out the jar and set it on the desk.

"Should the files be correct, I'd ask you to help me with my handicap. I lost my left eye some time ago and procured these not long after. I haven't been able to get one transplanted just yet, and would ask your assistance, or if you know someone who can help me."

WC: 1,105 + 828 = 1,933

The shinobi walked around to the chair that Midori had offered, quite tense in nature, and before he moved, Midori could hear the sound of his sighing from behind. Something was perhaps frustrating to him? It was Midori who was frustrated, having someone appear from behind her, when there’s a perfectly nice door in front of her. He then proceeded to have a rant about how she could be an imposter, and that she needed to work on a code with him for recognising as not being an imposter. She cocked a brow as he talked about how she could simply be someone using the academy technique, and then went on about how a ‘mutual friend’ wanted to have the shinobi meet with her. A lot of… Things she didn’t really quite feel was consistent, but that mattered little.

She rested her prosthetic arm on her knee for a moment, blue eyes gazing over the figure of the boy in front of her. He had a tattoo that signified he was on the ANBU, yet he wore no mask. Still, it gave Midori the chance to note the features, and flick through her mind. She had the files of the ANBU, hidden away in a safe. Still, she recalled looking through it, and the boy’s posture seemed familiar. She couldn’t remember the name, but the boy was definitely a part of the ANBU roster – not just an imposter, unless it was a very specific imposter. She put aside the work she was doing, placing the quill in the pot of ink, and restacking the papers, yet before she could say anything, the shinobi spoke up. Again.

He spoke of how she was a medic, and that he’d heard rumours about it. Could they even be called rumours? She flat out announced it at her inauguration. Yet, that mattered little. He then proceeded to talk about how he had read about her clan. Why he’d read about the clan in particular was an oddity to her, especially as she wasn’t in power long enough for the clan to have gained any interest. Yet, whatever, that was simply more trivia she didn’t wish to think on. Still, his rhetoric and talking led into the point eventually. He wanted her to do a transplant, despite having just accused her of being an imposter.

Yet what Midori couldn’t possibly have expected, was what came next. Out of nowhere, the shinobi took out a jar, with a singular pair of eyeballs concealed within. As if it was the most normal thing in the world, he just, put it on her desk. No thought about it, no hesitation. Just placed a couple of eyeballs on her desk. Midori pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. This wasn’t the sort of personality that was a good sign in the ANBU. The amount of erratic, jumpy, inconsistent behaviour made a large difference between being a shinobi, and being in the shadows. Still, she was a medic, and to that degree, it would not be in her nature to deny someone in need of an operation – something told her that if she did not personally oversee the operation, he would go to a less than respectable clinic, which would mean one less shinobi in the village unless he was very lucky, or rich enough to go to a private clinic.

She gazed at the eyes, trying to figure out why specifically he desired to use these eyes. Yet, that didn’t matter. The Kazekage shrugged, standing up and walking over to a variety of files on a desk, skimming through them with a wooden finger. Finally, she found what she was supposedly looking for, pulling out a couple sets of paper before placing the file back, and retaking her seat. Setting the papers in front of her, she sighed, picking up her quill and looking at the shinobi for a moment. “Before I begin, I will first mention that it is bad manners to sneak in behind someone, and then chastise them for not recognising you. You want me to make up a code to ensure you that I am no imposter, yet proceed to reveal enough information that, were I an imposter, a battle between us would already be decided. You are an ANBU, yet you do not wear your mask. You come in through the window, and act as if in something urgent, for a personal goal…” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose once more. “That being said, I am indeed a medic first and foremost. I will heal you, and do the operation, however understand your failings today. You were selfish in your actions, foolish in your words, and upheld yourself in the way I expect of a genin, not an ANBU…”

Calming herself, the frustration leaving her voice and her voice returning to its calm, she began filling in parts of the paper in front of her. Upon any inspection, it would become apparent that the parchment was a form – likely medical in nature. “ANBU don’t have names, however this is not a request as an ANBU, but as a wounded shinobi. Please, state your name, so that I may begin to fill out this form. I will see to it immediately that your operation goes well, and will personally perform it at the hospital. However, we must first get the important political details done first. This form is to verify that you consent to us performing the operation, and that you understand the risks with the surgery. The eye, for example, may not react well with your body. Furthermore, I need to know if you have any allergies. Even the mildest of allergies is important to know. I don’t care if you have an allergy to a cat that you don’t think is important to note: Every detail is important for the perfect operation.”

Scribing out some information, Midori raised a brow and looked at the boy. “You’re an Uchiha, if I recall correctly. I only got a brief glimpse of the file before storing it away in the vaults. So….” She looked around, specifically to the window, before turning back around. “State your name so I can fill it in, then inform me of any allergies you have so that I may jot them down. Once this is done, please sign at the bottom of the form to consent that you know the risks, and that, worst case scenario, you may die. However, please be aware that the risk is low, and that because of this, the procedure is free – you are a shinobi of the village, and thus you are eligible for the healthcare provided.”

Upon him stating his allergies, and signing the paper should he do so, Midori would sigh and speak up once more. “However, once you have recovered from the transplant, you and I will need to have a talk about your place in the ANBU. I will count that as a strike. Please, do try to be more respectful, and do not abuse your position. I have enough problems trying to quell crime, the last thing I need is an overzealous ANBU agent, overusing his privilege.”

1200 + 875 = 2075

Syekren's dull blue eye never left the woman as she spoke, a small smile appearing to his lips. She went off on a tangent, attempting to chastise him for whatever he seemed to have done in her eyes. He'd dealt with people in official positions before, and how they were in public and behind the scenes. He knew how the game went and exactly why she was saying what she did. But a good ninja allows their enemy to think they have all the cards. It was all Syekren knew when it came to interacting with others at his level, or even above. If they believe they hold all the cards and that you're helpless, you've already won. So, indeed if this were to be a battle, the outcome had already been decided. He'd keep that to himself, and allow her to continue her spiel however. As he wasn't really interested in starting an argument with the person he'd asked to fix his handicap. The code was mainly to know whether or not he was truly talking to the Kazekage, and it would be the same with any other influential person or ninja he came across. It was important to stay within the confines of security. She mentioned that he didn't wear his mask and he almost chuckled, letting himself stifle it, before placing his hands together in front of him, interlacing the fingers, and touching his thumb tips together. He quietly stared at her while she spoke, and after her first tanget finished, he merely uttered a few sentences to explain his ANBU mask not being present.

"To wear my uniform and mask to such an informal meeting would surely look worse than how I came now. To be dressed in my armor and mask for such a personal grievance would definitely be worse than just showing up. As for 'sneaking' in..Well I live here. Not here, here mind you, but in the ANBU quarters. It's the quickest way here."

He mentioned where he lived but didn't give specific details. He was sure if she wanted to, or rather, needed to know someone would tell her what she needed. That was not up to him and it was not in his rights to do so, no matter what. He watched as she flicked through files, grabbing out some paperwork and explaining a few things about the procedure. He listened intently, his eye moving about the paperwork as she read, confirming what she said for himself as well as looking for other pieces of information. It wasn't that he didn't trust her word, but knowing where he'd be and what exactly all of this would entail was important.  A shinobi must always be aware, and that is something he lived by almost as much as he lived to protect his village. She asked about if he had any allergies and thinking on it, he couldn't remember anything specifically. He didn't eat anything that possibly reacted, nothing in the wild made him swell or sniff, and nothing in hospitals made him feel as though he'd die instead of help him. So, as far as he could tell, no. He was not allergic to anything, minor or major.

Nothing comes to mind in terms of allergies. I can't say I remember anything ever affecting me negatively, no. My name is.."

He paused here for a moment, thinking a bit. He could give her his real name, but he almost decided to tell her his name was Hizencho. This was the name given to him as an ANBU agent by the last Kazekage he'd had the pleasure of meeting and it's what he was used to using when coming to these offices. It was rather strange for him to not say that and he almost didn't stop himself. But he was sure he would annoy the Kazekage more if he decided to use a name that was, by all accounts, nonexistant. With a sigh he pushed the other thought of his head and simply went back to speaking with his normal, charming fluidity, keeping the charade going.

"Syekren. Syekren Uchiha."

She went about filling things out as he answered and showed him where to sign. It had been a while since he had to sign anything with his real name and he quietly scrawled out the name in arcing, yet compact writing. His writing was rather unique, as when writing in Kanji or Romaji they were rather plain, moderately larger than norm and spaced evenly. When writing in western cursive (something he'd learned to do from his parents who had found books from another land), it was fluent and compact, with arcing lines and simply looked beautiful. He was unsure how she wanted him to sign, and so he did so with both, kanji and western cursive. He hoped both would be agreeable enough to her, and waited quietly as she continued speaking after, mentioning that this was a strike and that they would speak about his position in the ANBU after he recovered. He continued his smile and nodded.

"As you say, Lady Kazekage."

'Suppose the game continues.

WC: 1,933 + 878 = 2,811

His response was more disappointing than Midori could have possibly imagined. Not only did he talk back to her, but he attempted to excuse his actions by declaring that it was okay for him to do such an action. She couldn’t understand the gall the Uchiha before her had. Was it really that difficult to understand that, in a time of tension, to enter a Kage’s office through the window and to not reveal your location while standing behind the Kage…? There was a lot of things she had to talk with him about, perhaps in a more diplomatic manner to her previous rant about his uncouth behaviour. She had enough problems to deal with, making up for lost time, working on repairing the damaged state, reducing the amount of crime, catching up on paperwork that had been left to gather dust with the abandonment of the prior Kazekage, sorting out assignments of squads, as well as mission assignments, and ensuring the borders were safe. The last thing Midori wanted to care about, was a single upstart in the ANBU ranks, who deemed himself superior to his peers, and acted too far out of line to be trusted with the security required for the position.

She jotted down the information as he answered her questions, quill moving in a fluid motion of never ending writing that seemed to act the moment the information was spoken – a natural reaction as if on auto pilot. He had no allergies that he could think of, and his name was Syekren. She had no reason to doubt this information, for if it was false, it would only be detrimental to himself – it would mean in the case of serious injury or death, they would not be able to bury him, or give him respect. Nor tell any loved ones of the result. Yet, that mattered little. The moment he signed the paper, Midori took it in hand, before filing it away, nodding and standing up from her seated position. “Very well. Let us walk and talk. We will head to the hospital and begin the procedure immediately. Best to not waste time.” She said, shrugging before picking up the jar of eyes.

Walking over to the door leading out of the Kage’s office, she raised an eyebrow to the shinobi, whether or not he was seated. “We can leave via the window if you’d prefer, otherwise, let’s go. We can discuss some matters, and reach a mutual understanding of what went wrong with that introduction.” She stated, voice calm and expression softened once more as she opened the door, and stepped outside, expecting him to follow.

If he were to follow, the two would now be in the street, walking towards the hospital. Midori’s steps were light, and on the way out she made sure to get someone to keep an eye on the office to avoid any tampering of files while she was out. She made sure to keep the eye jar covered, to avoid people being grossed out, although the odd posture got her some odd looks. In hindsight, she should have got a blanket to cover it up.

Now out in the streets, Midori decided it would make the walk to the hospital go smoother to have a quick chat on the way there. “So, I won’t ask you to tell me about yourself. Given your job, that won’t work. So, instead I’ll ask – why do you want a new eye? And on that matter, why did you become a shinobi? We all have a ninja way, and it is what defines us, and what we do. So, as you are a member of my village, I am interested in hearing what your motivation to move forward is. For example, mine is to be of use to my family. Which, to me, means the entire village. I want to be able to help people, as much as I can. And to better myself into what, or who, is needed. To not shape the village, but guide it into a safe place.” She nodded to herself, waiting for whatever answer he would give.

“I see…” she would reply, making a mental note of his answer after whatever it was he would say, before moving on. “I would like to, before we arrive at the hospital, make one thing clear. No matter your position in the village, it is not good manners to enter an office through the window, and stand silently behind someone – it could be perceived as a threat, and were I someone of a more hasty nature, we would have ended up in an unrequired conflict. So, please understand why before I chastised you. I don’t doubt you had good intentions, but to do such a thing for such a personal request as an operation is an abuse of your position. I will allow it this once, but remember that when you take your personal life into it, you are just another member of the village – and you should hold yourself like everyone else. Why would you be allowed to have impromptu meetings with no direct approach and organisation, whereas others would have to wait, and be patient?”

She ended her rant, waiting to hear if he would have any quips, retorts, or otherwise unrequired bits of speaking to reply with, before just continuing to move forwards. Her mind thought through all the possible replies he could give, even the possibility that he would grow furious and, despite the public location, attack her. She kept her posture at the ready, yet otherwise just walked with as much relaxed nature as before. If he was able to be respectful, perhaps she would not need to lecture him later upon his behaviour, and the expectations of the ANBU. Regardless, she was carrying the eyes now, and had to prepare to give him a sudden operation. Midori was already preparing herself for after all this was done – she had full intentions of ending the day with a relaxing read, and perhaps some carpentry.

1010 + 2075 = 3085

He quietly watched her stand and nod after taking the paperwork with her, mentioning they would walk and talk. He nodded himself and stood, moving to follow her. She made a quip about leaving through the window and at this the shinobi couldn't help but let out a laugh, shaking his head after she walked out of the door. She was cheeky, that was for sure. Seemed to Syekren she was already doing well in the position she'd inherited and she had a sense of humor. It would not be so bad serving under a woman of her nature, that's for sure. Before he left, the young man untied the hitai-ate from his forehead and then tied it to his left bicep, move it up so that it would cover his ANBU tattoo. He wasn't wearing his mask or his armor, but he still figured that covering this up was a good idea. If not, it was only one more thing for the Kazekage to chastise him for. He didn't want to seem insubordinate or foolhardy to the woman who led the village now, though he did approach her unprofessionally. He figured it was better to play it by the book at this point, so that relations would be amicable.

She made an odd bit of covering up the eyes she had grabbed from the desk as they walked. It would have been simpler to put them in a pocket or something if she'd had any. Or to allow Syekren to carry them. He was unsure as to why he wasn't carrying them himself for that matter, but didn't dwell on it too much. He just hoped she didn't mean to do anything violent towards Syekren. There were witnesses about now so he would be branded a traitor and a criminal if they began to fight, not something he really wanted to deal with. He loved this village more than anything and that would kill him on the inside. He just had to remain ready for anything if she did decide to become violent, but also stay polite and amicable so that she didn't consider it, if she wasn't already. There was no reason for the two to fight, they were both Sand shinobi and the village was their home. As he thought of this point, she began to talk, asking questions about him. She was right, as his job entailed he wasn't really to divulge information regarding himself, but losing his eye was something that he was surprised Suzume hadn't put in the records. Though, since Seimei was killed that same night it couldn't be added to the bingo book, so it made sense. She also wanted to know what his ninja way was, why he became a shinobi. This was something no one had ever actually asked him and it would be hard to answer.

"I'm surprised Suzume didn't put that one in the records, Lady Kazekage. I lost my eye to an encounter with a woman in the hidden mist named Seimei. Though she could have been using an alias. She was rather fast, faster than I'd ever seen and I pride myself on my speed. She used a type of paralyzing spore from a plant and with her vines she.." He struggled at this point, feeling discomfort at the memory. "Broke my mask and pulled the eye straight from the socket. I've since gotten my mask fixed but the eye has never been replaced. If you know of us Uchiha you know how strong our eyes are. Having one isn't helping me. To be at full strength I need two sharingan again. Hence the transplant if you will. As for why I became a shinobi? My goals? Honestly I'm not normally like this. My goals when I became a shinobi was to become the strongest in the village, to protect the village and her people. To make sure that we would never be victimized again. I don't know why during my path I chose to be an ANBU member, but I guess I thought just because I was behind the scenes, didn't mean my power wasn't helping. Putting my name to the good deeds didn't do anything for me, I only cared to help the village."

His voice was to a whisper, to make sure the only people who could hear his words were the Kazekage and himself. Declaring himself an ANBU to other listening ears was not something he wanted to do, especially not in her pressence. So as he spoke lower, his form matched her stride, while being much closer after a few larger steps so he was only a foot or two away from her. This insured that they would not suffer eavesdroppers to their conversation. He knew that to divulge this type of information outside of safe conversation was tantamount to treason should anyone learn he worked in the shadows of the village, as well as it would give away unnecessary information to anyone who could use it as an enemy.

"I know it's strange to think of this, but I'm not actually like I have been tonight.  I do apologize, I was simply.. over zealous and excited. As you know, my line of work dictates I control my emotions at all times. It's been so long since I could be anything other than emotionless, and so I suppose I let it go. I won't let it happen again, my lady. It's not meant to be an excuse, or a quip, just insuring that you understand why I have acted as I did and to apologize and insure we won't need to have the same discussion again. I care about this village, more than anything else. That's why I need this transplant. I need to be at full strength again. I need to be able to put all of my power into keeping this village, and you safe. That's my goal now as a ninja. It may have been different before, but that is not now. It's been five years since I started my journey and I can't back down now."

He quietly listened as she entered another rant and allowed her to finish. He mulled her words over without so much as tongue in cheek. He had already made his point on this matter and decided it would not behoove him to continue to push it. He would only simply nod and give a quiet 'Yes Lady Kazekage', allowing their walk to continue silently after such. He wasn't looking to argue at this point, or show the rest of the cards in his hand. He'd already doubled down by telling her his reasons and his motivations and that was all he was allowed to give. There was a lot he'd left out, as he was bound by code to, but he hoped what he'd told her was sufficient to her line of questioning. He didn't wish to seem rude, as he was sure that's how he came out to her upon the first few minutes of meeting her. Bad blood between the Kazekage and her ANBU was definitely not something the village or they needed right now, so it would be best to agree with her at this point and bite his tongue instead of being snarky. This would be the best course of action to avoid any further conflicts.

WC: 2,811 + 1,270 = 4,081

Midori nodded, making mental notes of who and how the shinobi with her had lost his eye. She understood it was a rather personal question, and didn’t expect much of an answer – this was an ANBU, not an average shinobi, as much as his earlier behaviour had made seem otherwise. She noted the emotion in his voice as he recalled the memory. She fully expected him to stop there, yet to her surprise, he continued regardless. His goals were simple too. Defend the village, and make it get to the point it has had in the past; that that was likely shared with a large amount of the Suna shinobi. She hummed in thought as he continued, nodding along with the odd affirmative to ensure she was listening. He then proceeded to go on and apologise, something Midori hadn’t been expecting from what she knew of his personality. All she did was listen, continuing to walk, the hospital now in short sight.

Having heard his more respectable piece, as well as his story, Midori nodded simply, before speaking up with a point of her own. “I think I can understand. I personally could not do the role of the ANBU, and honestly, I am not the biggest fan of the dark necessity, needed though it may be. It’s not healthy to constantly supress emotions, and you yourself have seen first hand the lack of control it can bring to oneself. You are forgiven, but not forgotten. Please, try to make sure you keep in line in the future. Till then, that’s behind us. It sounds like the memory is a painful one, understandably, and you wish to get better for the sake of the village. In my mind, that sort of thing is what defines the shinobi of Sunagakure no Sato. Our will of the wind, our freedom of choice for what we believe in, and how varied our courses can be for the same goals. I’ll begin the process immediately, and to the best of my ability. Remember the risks though, and if at any moment before the operation you change your mind and back out, I will not fault you. It comes with the chance of death. I would never force someone into that. Understand?” She said, voice softer than before, more gentle.

As they approached the hospital, Midori advanced ahead, handing the jar of eyes to the ANBU as she opened the door and made straight for the receptionist desk, where three attendants sat, two of which were busy talking. Not wishing to waste time, Midori went to the one that was not busy, her strides hastened due to the need to get back to paperwork once the operation was complete. “Ningyou, Midori. I have a patient in need of a last minute transplant so that they may get on with the recovery process as soon as possible. Which operating studios are currently available?” she asked, making sure to get to the point swiftly, and with a voice that was stern and soft at once. Hesitating somewhat at the sudden appearance and request for a room, the receptionist quickly flicked through some papers, checking their documents, before speaking up. “Um… studio four is currently available, as is the studio ten. After the operation is complete, the wards to the north and east are available.”

Midori nodded, before holding her hand out to take the document, signing herself in for studio four, before gesturing for Syekren to follow her. “We’ll get you to studio four. It is to the north, and then to the west, down three separate corridors. I will lead you to the waiting room while I get the equipment ready, and get some staff to assist me. There are some magazines and newspapers there to read while you wait, and if you feel you need to postpone or cancel the operation, you’re welcome to as well. The operation does some with risks after all, especially given the close proximity it is to your brain. Please understand that, if your optical nerve is too damaged, but we attempt to operate anyways, there is a chance of death.” She said, voice solemn. She allowed the news and announcement to sink in for the moment, before turning, and walking down the corridor. Whether he followed or not wasn’t in her mind – she wouldn’t blame him for turning away now.

After a brief walk through the corridors and through varying doors, her feet clicking against the sandstone flooring, she made her way first to the waiting area, before, without hesitation, leaving once more. If he was there, having followed, then that would be the part where she left to prepare the room. However, for now, she did not waste a moment hesitating – he had the brazen nerve to sneak into the Kazekage’s office without requesting a meeting for something personal, it wasn’t something she expected he’d back out of after finding the risk. So, she went to get the operating theatre prepared, as well as staff to ensure the process went smoothly, as well as how best to keep it monitored. She entered studio four, the room lit well, with a singular bed in the centre, white, with a covered blue sheet over the top – medical paper. There were various screens of assorted medical purposes, as well as tools used for surgical reasons, and vials of drugs and anaesthetics.

She went through the list of currently active medics, looking through those on standby duty, as well as those currently in active duty, before deciding on four to have with her; two to monitor the vitals and the situation, one to prepare and control the drugs in an organised fashion to help with keeping the patient stabilised, and a last one to assist Midori with the actual process of operating, and to keep the tools clean, as well as provide aid to all jobs that require multiple views and hands. With haste she walked to the entrance once more, moving now into the staff on call room, and gathering the four she had chosen, all of which put on their medical gear and masks, before moving to wait at the operating table. Meanwhile, Midori herself went back to the waiting room, walking in and stating. “Patient of Studio Four. The surgery room is ready. I hope you’re not afraid of needles.”

1061 + 3085 = 4146

Syekren silently listened as they walked, taking everything she said and committing it to memory. It wasn't just him that found it hard to suppress emotions and knew of the horrible effects of such. She did understand to a point but did warn caution for the future. Something he would be sure to agree to. He just had times he needed to be able to express himself again. She then did something quite unexpected: she began to go on more of an inspirational speech about the will of wind. It was their jobs as shinobi to work towards much the same goals, even with different approaches. This was something Syekren found to be quite true. While all in the village notoriously had their own set of goals in mind, one thing they all agreed on was that the safety of the village was tantamount to preserving the will of Wind: the hope and dreams of their village. Their home was the most important thing on every sand shinobi's mind and to protect the will of Wind was to protect the dreams of those that came before and guide the future of those who would come. It was their mission to all work towards the advancement of the village as a whole and look to the future as though nothing would stand in their way. This was the heart of the village hidden in the sand.

They reached the hospital and she handed off his precious jar of prizes to the ANBU at the door. He was a bit skeptic of this at first but quietly let it go. He didn't think she had any reason to betray him at this point, or at all. She seemed rather genuine in her words and this was probably just a precaution as they entered the large building. She led him up to a desk where she spoke with receptionists, signing them up for the surgery room in section four. Or was that room four in the surgery wing? Truth be told, he hadn't had much experience with surgery in Sunagakure. The only time he'd spent in hospitals of that type was in Kirigakure back when he was attacked.  This would be a new experience for the ANBU and to be honest, he wasn't sure how he'd felt about it at this point. But it was too late to back out now. He was sure that this is what he wanted, no, needed to reach his full potential once more. There was no way he could walk away now, he'd become fully committed.

Midori led him to a waiting room where he was to be left alone with magazines and such while he contemplated everything that had been happening and what was to come. There was a chance he could die and he'd come to terms with this. He'd let his Kazekage know that she was to have his ANBU items as well as anything else on his person. It was only right to make sure she could continue on her path to make Sunagakure return to the strength it needed to be at. He sighed and looked down at his right hand, contemplating his life leading up to this moment. Syekren was ready for whatever would come. At the moment that it looked bleak he would be ready to do what was needed. As an ANBU operative and an Uchiha, he was a treasure trove of information. If anyone found his body should this end unfavorably, he'd have put his home and his charge at risk. That was something that he wouldn't allow to come to pass. Syekren was ready to channel the chakra needed into his hand and push it into himself, destroying his own body with the trademark jutsu of his occupation. There was nothing that would come of his body as long as he had a say in it. There was nothing worse than putting the village at risk because he was too weak to survive a transplant. He was ready, and he clenched the hand he was staring at into a fist, nodding to himself.

He watched the Kazekage re-enter, waiting as she said she hoped he wasn't afraid of needles. He didn't like them personally, but he had no fear of them. He was ready and he would not back down. He shook his head when she mentioned the needles and moved towards her, moving a hand to her shoulder as he made his way to her side at the open doors. "I'm sure you'll do fine, Lady Kazekage. But I know the dangers, and should I not make it I want you to take what I have for yourself. I appreciate what you're doing for someone who must have seemed so rude to you. It's more than I could have expected." With a final sigh, the male moved ahead of her to the surgery room, surely she would follow, but he wanted to get this over with and hopefully move on to recovery as soon as possible. He stopped in the surgery room, looking at the four in the room and then to the bed, quietly steeling his nerves. He made his way to the bed and sat upon it, taking a deep breath before he laid upon the table. His one eye stared up straight into the light and he made no other sounds or noises, waiting patiently for the operation to begin.

WC: 926 + 4,081 = 5,007

(OOC: I'll roll before I post, to determine how the post goes. The roll of a 1 will be death, 2-10 will be success. Good luck)

The member 'Midori' has done the following action : Dices roll

---

'Ten Sided Dice' : 3

As she walked with him to the surgery, taking in his words, she nodded. He’d prepared himself for the potential risk. Midori went over to the trolley of drugs and needles, picking one of the syringes to inject the anaesthetic into him, before going to a general anaesthetic, and selecting it. She placed the needle through the lid, pulling in some of the drug, before walking over to Syekren, smiling slightly. “So. Do you have any favourite animals? Maybe a favourite colour?” she said, waiting for him to begin answering. The instant he did, however, she stuck the needle into the wrist of his left arm, injecting the general anaesthetic into his arm while he was busy talking, using the distraction of the conversation to keep him from being panicky or anxious about the injection. Not long after, the Uchiha would fall asleep – the drug being one to quick set into effect.

As soon as she was sure he was under, the Kazekage set to work, moving his hair out of the way, and moving an oxygen mask to keep him stable and breathing while the operation was in process. The two over at the vital monitoring gave a nod to proceed, Midori being careful to remove his shirt for the moment, before placing a bib over him, so as to avoid blood getting on his clothes – the shirt being placed in a bag on the shelf in the corner, to return to him while he recovered. Then, it was the difficult part, Midori moving to grab a scalpel and needle – the procedure would be long, arduous, and require precision higher than she’d ever done before in her life.

Looking to make sure the eyes were on the trolley, which they were, before taking a scalpel, and preparing to operate on the unconscious shinobi. The first step was to open the wound, moving all features of the body out of the way as she placed the scalpel down, and took a pen, marking softly where to cut with dotted lines. Then, it was time to get ready and to do the actual deed. She walked over to a nearby desk, pulling on a pair of safety gloves, before retaking up her scalpel, and walking back over to the prone body of the sleeping shinobi. Expression blank, and without any hesitation or doubt, Midori began to delicately trace the blade of the scalpel against the skin of his eyelid, being careful to not push too hard, and tracing in a way that caused a clean, straight cut.

At this point, Midori acted quickly, allowing the once wounded eye socket to be wounded once more as she finished her incision, cutting the eyelid down in a vertical manner. Her expression was still emotionless, and already blood was on the knife. There was no hesitation as she moved over to the jar, taking out one of the inactive eyes and gently taking hold of it. The soft sphere was disgusting, yet she had a job to do. She put the scalpel down, and with her now empty hand, gestured to the roaming doctor. “You, please pass me some suture thread, some gauze, and a needle. I need to connect the dead nerves together, and I need to do that with thread that will gradually fade as the tissue grows naturally, and this will be precise in terms of how I need to do it, as I stimulate the cell growth with medical chakra, and attach the optical nerves in a way that makes them akin to how they naturally should be. Hurry!” she declared, the doctor nodding quickly and gathering up the requested tools and medical equipment, laying them out on top of the tray, next to the operating table.

Taking the needle, Midori quickly put the two threads together, acting quickly while one of the other doctors injected a drug into Syekren to slow his bleeding and prevent death from bleeding out while Midori worked on the transplant itself. She began to carefully pierce the needle into the optic nerve of the loose eyeball, allowing the thread to grow taut before placing the stalk to the damaged optical nerve that connected to the brain. The next bit would require the most precision on her behalf, as she carefully pierced through the nerve, holding the eye stalk to the optic nerve with a stillness that almost made the medical woman seem inhuman, thread accurately piercing repeatedly and sewing the unnatural and odd fitting wounds and stalks together in a way that allowed the nerves to stay relatively undamaged, or at least, not any further damaged. Meanwhile, the hand that held the eye together began channelling medical chakra to stimulate the growth and multiplication of the nerve cells, so that while she was bonding the two together they would naturally begin to merge. It was something she was hopeful of that the two were compatible, otherwise the operation would be a failure.

Yet, she wouldn’t be able to know until she was done.

Holding the eye with less pressure than before as she finished her medicinal sewing, Midori removed her blood covered, gloved hand from the eye socket, watching with a nod as the eye didn’t fall out. That was a good sign. The next goal would be to sew together the broken eyelids. Hopefully the ANBU wasn’t too fond of his appearance, although given he was previously missing an eye, Midori doubted he would mind a new facial scar. So, with that in mind, getting more thread for her needle, Midori began sewing together the wound, not applying medical chakra this time as she allowed the wound to simply be healed in the natural way – slowly and over time.

Eyelids sewed back to what they were prior to her scalpel application, Midori now got one more piece of equipment – to test if the operation was a success, and the organ aligned and reacted positively with the brain and optical nerve of the foreign host. Putting the needle and sewing material into the tray once more, Midori now picked up an odd device, which generated light, before looking to the doctors that were monitoring his vitals. All seemed clear, and he was functioning normally, albeit with slowed blood flow due to the presence of the drug. Carefully holding the eyelid open, Midori shone the light into the eye, moving it around and observing the sphere. After roughly a minute of this gentle testing, she felt content with the results, nodding and removing her hand from it, and the device, and gently closing the eyelids once more.

Grinning, Midori nodded to her group of doctors with a smile. “The operation was a success” she said with a nod, before turning back towards the unconscious patient, taking an antiseptic wipe and giving his eyelid and the area around it a wipe before getting a bandage and wrapping it around his head in a manner that it covered the operated on eye, while leaving his previously functioning eye uncovered, so he could at least use it and see while his new eye adjusted and recovered.

With a sigh, Midori gestured to the door. “Please, get the patient to the recovery room while I wash up, and prepare the operating studio for use by the next surgery. Thank you all for your help. You did a wonderful job, all of you.” She gave a smile and a bow, the four doctors moving Syekren onto a mobile bed and wheeling him out of the room and towards the recovery area. The puppet wielding Kazekage however, began to organise the objects in the operating theatre, placing the scalpel in a pile of equipment to be washed, before discarding her gloves in a sanitary rubbish disposal. Next was taking some sanitary wipes and cleaning fluid, cleaning off the surfaces, and replacing the bedsheet with a fresh, not bloody one. The process took roughly half an hour to do, however, the room now clean as new, Midori smiled, and left to go wait in the recovery room to oversee her patients recovery.

Now seated in a rather basic seat next to the drugged up patient, Midori sat there, reading a newspaper, eyes scanning over the details and taking in the writing and information before flicking over to the next page. The news wasn’t anything she didn’t already know, often being more uninformed than that which she herself was aware of due to her ties to the village’s shadow – the ANBU, like the bedridden one in front of her. Midori continued to indulge herself in the news, finding interest in the alternative perception of life. Occasionally she would glance upwards, and until she noticed a bit of movement from the bed, it would remain occasional. However, upon the first sign of the patient waking up, the puppet medic would put the newspaper down and aside, before offering a soft smile, tilting her head to the side slightly as she spoke. “Ah, welcome to the world of the living. You will be pleased to know the operation is a success. If you need any food or drink, just say, and I will get it, however, try to avoid moving – the anaesthetic won’t have worn off, and thus your arms and legs won’t work properly immediately. In addition, I ask that you keep that bandage on for at least a week, preferably two weeks, to allow the optic nerves to adjust to the sudden change. So, can I get you anything?” she asked, looking down at the Uchiha expectantly, wondering if he’d take her up on the offer.

1603 + 4146 = 5749

Syekren was asked what animals he liked, or if he had a favorite color as he lay there on the operating table. Syekren had to think about it for a moment before responding as he hadn't found himself drawn to any particular colours, nor animals. "I suppose I am pretty  fond of the little salamanders we use to deliver messages." As soon as he finished what he was saying he noticed that he felt slightly off. As though everything around him at this moment was slowing down. His vision was getting hazy, and everything seemed disoriented, as though it were a dream. He didn't really understand what was going on until he looked to Midori and saw the needle in her hand. It was then that he understood that he was being put to sleep for the operation. It reminded him of his resolve to destroy his body if it were to go south. Now he knew that even if it should, he would have no way to destroy his body fully and would have to hope that the Kazekage could do so in his stead.

Your eye grows heavy, and your thoughts bleak. Fall into my sweet embrace, sleep peacefully.

Sleep found him quickly and his mind was adjusting to the feeling of being addled by the anesthesia. Syekren found himself standing at the gates of Sunagakure no sato, dressed in his ANBU armor, with his mask strapped to his belt. He had a kunai and his hitai-ate in hand, staring down at the two of them. This had to look real. For his village, and Matsuro. It had to seem real that he was leaving the village and defecting. He had to ensure that no one would question the motives behind some random nameless ninja leaving, and an ANBU returning with a defector in tow. There were many events that led up to this point in time and he had to make sure the illusion stayed real. Syekren, or Hizencho as he was known to be as an ANBU, was to leave the village under the guise of defection and collect Matsuro the defector from the village hidden in the mist. To keep up appearances he was to tell no one of his orders and to ensure witnesses saw him committing the defection. For the good of the village, any who got in his way were to be dealt with.

It actually made no sense. He was to give the guise of defection to bring a defector home or kill him so that the secrets weren't shared with other villages. The young ninja felt as though he was set up to be made an example of, that anyone no matter their status can be played. He felt played. Something wasn't going right behind the scenes. Especially when it came to him finding out that Matsuro had sought an audience with the kazekage to be met with silence. Syekren felt as though he was being used as a pawn. It made no difference now. He turned back to see guards at the gate approaching him, asking if he needed assistance or any supplies for the road. The male activated his two tomoe sharingan and made a slash across the hitai-ate, scarring the Sunagakure no sato symbol upon it permanently. With that, he pushed it into his tool pouch, pulling his ANBU mask from his belt onto his face, issuing a large bout of flame at the two guards coming up to him in a rush. They never had a chance and their charred bodies hit the ground soundlessly in the sand. This was it. It was time. He turned back to the road and ran off, in pursuit of Matsuro

After a few days, he'd reached his destination. Syekren was soon to enter the gates of the village hidden in the mist. But he stopped by a woman of unparalleled natural beauty. She was covered from head to toe in plants,  not of the region she was leaving as he entered. They looked at each other and she asked his business, as though afraid for herself.  He said that he was simply looking for a friend and that she needn't worry. There wasn't much more talking, but he'd stupidly told her he was an Uchiha. He could have kept going if he'd kept it to himself, but after learning of this she used a type of flower, catching him in paralysis. It wasn't only Syekren though, newcomers had approached. One being Matsure, his long time friend and ally, the other being someone he didn't know. From what was said, he was a dojutsu wielder as well. The last to arrive was a swordsman, who arrived too late. It was too late as the woman had use a living vine to break through Syekren's mask, plucking out his left eye. She then turned these on the other male who had come to his rescue, ripping out both of his. Matsuro, being without dojutsu, was spared this torment. She was apparently a hunter of eyes and would have gotten away with her prizes.

Save for the wandering swordsman who caught her off guard with a swing of his sword. A vacuum of wind caught her, rending her body in two. She was killed instantly in the slash, but at a price. The now blind man who had tried to help Syekren had lost not only his eyes, but a few of his limbs as well. Due to the proximity of the woman to him, he was caught in the fell swing from the man's sword. The last thing he remembered from that day was Matsuro dragging him away to make sure he was alive and breathing before going to check up on the other man who was torn up much worse than Syekren. After a few minutes of recovery, the ninja made his way to the village hidden in the mist to receive treatment for his wounds, healing up before he decided to head home. There was much to discuss with his Kage. Very much to discuss.

Matsuro left before him, Syekren followed. They arrived home and things were forever changed. Syekren was forever scarred.

Syekren's right eye fluttered open, everything still being hazy to him. What happened? Where was he? His eye closed once more, there was a weird feeling in his left eyelid, but it was so faint, as though it wasn't actually there. His brow furrowed and he tried to raised his hand to his face, finding that he could only muster a small twitch of his fingers. His arm would not heed his command. He had a dream? His body was still paralyzed. He was going to loser his other eye and there was nothing he could do to stop it! His voice came out weakly, his breath in gasps as his heart rate sped up. "Mat.. Matsuro. My eye.. It's gone. She'll take the other. I can't.. I can't move.." He felt hopeless, trying to search his memories for what happened. He'd heard noises coming from in front of where he lay, and slowly opened his right eye. It was still a bit fuzzy, but he made out a feminine figure.

No, don't take it..

A soft voice spoke out as he lay there, waiting for his doom. Instead, it was a voice familiar to him. Kazekage Midori?.. That's right. The operation! He had almost forgotten that losing his eye happened five years hence. He'd long since passed the event that led to him only having one eye, and that paralysis was a distant memory. He must still be under the influence of the anesthetics. She told him as much, then went on to say that he should give the optic nerve time to properly bond and heal, then wanted to know if she could get him anything. It was over? He'd survived? He didn't know what to say, so much had went wrong in his life that he was unsure of what to say in the situation when it went right. The ninja stayed quiet for a moment, testing the mobility in his fingers, only getting slight twitches out of them.

I.. no. Thank you lady Kazekage. I'm just happy everything went well." Syekren looked at her soft smile, trying to return one of his own. "I .. Eye. The other eye, where is it?" His eye looked around as best he could, but from his limited field of vision, not much was clear. He tried to move his body to sit up, but he only got a slight twitch of his form lifting half an inch before he was rendered immobile again. It would take some time to be able to move, so he'd have to lay there, hoping that she'd oblige his next request. "I would like to keep the other eye, if you don't mind. I.. may need it again." Syekren sighed, and looked up to the ceiling, lost in thought. Had he spoken during his sleep? If so, what had he said to her? He'd never been under anesthesia before. Syekren's thoughts were everywhere as he lay there, that he almost forgot their earlier conversation.

His eye looked back at the kazekage, his smile having faded for a blank look, one of indiscernible nature. He wanted to choose his words carefully. He knew fully well how one could be rude without thinking on their words properly. The last thing he wanted to do was anger his kazekage, the woman who'd restored his sight to its full strength. "Lady Kazekage.. You said we would discuss my place in the ANBU. I understand my actions earlier, and while I am still healing.. I'd like to know what we should discuss about it. If anything is to be said, it should be done sooner rather than later. I will understand and abide any decisions you see fit to make. I am at your mercy, and my debt to you is boundless.

WC: 1,701 + 5,007 = 6,708

Midori watched as the ANBU began waking up, his eyes heavy with the weight of stress, of operation, and of drugs. Still, he was alive, and awake, which only furthered her proof that the operation was a success. She watched the slightly twitching form of Syekren Uchiha, who shifted ever so slightly, and spoke in a voice that was weak with recovery. His words were ones of joy at first, however, the tone and focus of his sentences soon shifted somewhat into more of a plea. A request. One that Midori had no intention of ignoring, listening as her blue eyes scanned his face for any signs of unrequired injury, or perhaps sickness, side effects of the anaesthetic that had taken effect. She was relieved to see none.

He was concerned about the secondary eye. She had left that in the room, on the same trolley that had the other materials for operating. However, she knew who the doctors in the room were, and that nobody else was scheduled in that room for another half hour, at least permitting emergencies, in which case the emergency was more important to her than an eye. Hopefully this ANBU would understand, but regardless, Midori would not at his request, speaking softly so as to not disturb him too much. “I left it in the operating theatre. Simply wait here, and do not move. I will go retrieve it and leave it at your bedside table. That way, when you are recovered, you can take it with you.”

Before she could turn to leave, however, he began speaking about what she had said prior. His position in the ANBU. At this, Midori thought long, and hard, humming as she took in what he said. Finally, she shrugged. “It is fine. I will simply chalk this up as a warning. Just know that ANBU is not a privilege, but a responsibility. The village is in a state of recovery, and the last thing I need is someone abusing power. As I’m sure you’re aware, everyone is tense. Can you imagine how much more tense it would be if someone in special forces gear was going wherever they pleased without any explanations, constantly? Or if people were suddenly being accosted or talked to by one. People would begin to grow worry, tensions would raise. I don’t care for personal bias being put above the village, and to me, a priority is increasing the morale of the village. As it is, due to our previously lawless lifestyle, morale is down, and people are struggling to find any form of will to allow them to stay. Gang crime is up to an all new historical high. So… Please understand, that while your punishment is only a warning, that from henceforth, you should tread lightly. I won’t hesitate to strip someone of rank if they endanger the village.”

Getting her words out, she sighed, shaking her head. “I’ll go ahead and get your eye. You just rest there. I will be back in a moment. In the meantime, if you require any food or drink, simply say so when I return, and I can go and fetch some from the on call room, or the hospital café. Make sure to rest up, and don’t move around too much – the anaesthetic won’t wear off for another few hours.” She declared, before walking off without listening for another word. After all, if she stayed for a conversation, there was a chance someone went into the wrong room. And while Midori had the most faith in those of her village, she also knew some people were opportunists. The eye was a sharingan, and while Midori did not have much personal experience with the dojutsu, she knew well that it was a highly valued organ. The thought of people stealing eyes out of greed disgusted her, but there was little she could do. Her duties told her there was more important things to worry or concern herself about.

As she walked into the room, the eye in the jar was there, simply on the desk where it was left. Midori wasted no time, walking over to it and picking it off the tray, before glancing around to make sure she hadn’t been careless and left anything else out of place. A quick scan, and she had confirmed it was fine. The gloves were in the sanitary waste, and everything else was back where it belonged – drugs in the medicinal cabinet, and equipment back in its assigned location. With that, she spun on her heel, and being sure to wait for any patients or emergency staff to pass first, she went back to the recovery room in which she had left the Uchiha to rest.

Upon returning, she carefully placed the jar next to his shelf, putting a cloth over it so as to not just have a loose eye showing. Then, she sat down, and once more held the newspaper, scanning through it with half interest as she spoke up. “There is your eye. If there’s anything else, just say. Remember, don’t use your eye or remove the bandage for two weeks. Just in case you find yourself in unbearable pain after the anaesthetic wears off, I will leave you with a pack of pain killers. Take two at a time, then rest, and only take up to four a day, with a minimum of a five hour gap between doses. In the meantime, side-effects you are likely to experience will include, but not be limited to, will include dizziness, feelings of nausea or sickness, headaches, and drowsiness. If you find yourself struggling with side effects or unwell and are concerned, please visit the hospital, give them the details of the operation you had, and then describe everything about how unwell you are. That way a check-up can be done. After you have recovered, you are to go back to duty, specifically, basic patrols around the village, and perhaps every now and again, going out into the desert. The usual patrols to make sure bandits aren’t amassing, or people dying. Understood, or, do you have any questions?” she asked, not once taking her eyes off the newspaper, which currently held a story about the state of the mining operations at the Hells Door Mine.

1051 + 5749 = 6800

She really was a great medical ninja and a great person. She stood over him to make sure that everything was fin and that he wasn't going through shock or dealing with any particularly harmful side effects. This made recovery a bit easier to deal with because his kazekage seemed to genuinely care about his well being and his getting better. Syekren blinked a few times to get the haze from his vision while he listened to her speak. She had left the eye in the other room but would retrieve it for him, and leave it on his bedside table so that when he recovered, he could leave with it. It was understandable and appreciated, and the young shinobi muttered a 'thanks' to her before she began to speak again. She spoke about how it was fine that they needn't have their discussion about his position now, but he was to remember his position was not a privilege: it was a responsibility. His responsibility was to protect the village and help it grow, she spoke on their village being in a state of recovery and someone in the special forces should not go around abusing his position, especially with how tense everyone already was. She continued then to speak on the village and increasing the moral of it instead of decreasing, owing to their once lawless lifestyle there seemed to be a lot of work to do and Syekren nodded. Or he would have if he wasn't doped up still and simply gave her an affirmative 'mhm.'

She then sighed and told him she'd go to retrieve his eye. If he needed anything he had to simply ask when she returned and she would accommodate him. He was to rest up and try no to move: he had a few hours left of the anesthetic before it would wear off. Syekren sighed as she left the room, staring up at the ceiling and contemplating exactly what he was going to do once he recovered from the operation. There was a few things he could think of doing: the first was using his eye to get used to the sensation of having two again. The second was to train with it so that it could catch up to his two tomoe eye. And lastly, he planned to get himself to a stage of being able to use the next stage of his sharingan. If he was to return to his full strength he was going to need to train harder and put himself in the position to unlock the next stage. It was the only way he could be sure that he would be able to protect the village with all his might. Still, he didn't know exactly how he was going to bring about that training for his eye, given the nature of how his dojutsu evolved.

Syekren was so lost in thought he barely realized that Midori had re-entered the room and set the jar with the one remaining eye on the shelf not far from his bedside. She covered the eye with a cloth so that any wandering eyes would not be able to see what was in the jar, just that one was covered on the shelf. He was thankful for that and smiled quietly as she then reeled off a few basics about his condition once more, then told him side effects of some pain killers she'd prescribe to him. Syekren was thankful that he would have some type of medicine to deal with the pain that was probably going to assault him when the anesthetics wore off, and nodded as best he could, barely getting a movement at all. She would then tell him that once he was fit for duty once more, he was to resume normal patrols and even go as far as to patrol outside the village in the sands. She wanted him to make sure that bandits and the like couldn't amass and cause destruction to the village or attack anyone from it. In short, he was to make sure that he did his best to be on the lookout for danger. When she asked if he had any questions he thought a moment before he decided to speak.

"You've done much already, Lady Kazekage. But there is one thing I do not have as of yet. I need a bingo book. Upon my induction to ANBU I was never given a bingo book comprised of all the known criminals. Usually they are given to Jounin but ANBU are also supposed to have them. I feel as though I should have one, but that's all up to you. Whether you believe I need one or not is purely to your discretion and I will accept whatever you deem fit. I'd also like to ask to do something more to repay you for the kindness you've shown me. You did this transplant even with our first impression going sour. I'd like to remedy my sour first impression in some way, so that we can get off on a better foot so to speak. I will understand if you refuse this as well, my lady."

Syekren quietly stared at her as he spoke, sincerity in his eye for a moment before he turned it back to the ceiling. He wanted to will his body into getting better, to improve faster. He hated laying in this bed while he could still be out doing missions and improving himself. If he wasn't so weak from the anesthetics he would be up and about now, kicking ass in the name of sunagakure no sato. He'd let his flames of youth explode and burn with the passion of fighting the good fight. But for now, he was subjected to laying in this bed for the time, recovering from the surgery and staring at the ceiling. There was nothing more for it that could be done, and his Kazekage had done her part in healing his deformity. He would make sure that he sent some money to her after he'd recovered so that she could be paid for the services. While he was covered under their healthcare plan, it seemed to him that she should be given some sort of compensation for something as important and selfish as this. He sighed while he was thinking, letting his eye come back down to her form. Watching the newspaper she was reading.

WC: 1,089 + 6,708 = 7,797

The ANBU before her was akin to a child to her – ironic given that she herself was young for her position. Yet to Midori, she saw his mistake as not malicious, but foolish, and simply an error. She wasn’t sure about those people within the ANBU. Although perhaps it was best to say she wasn’t sure about the position of the ANBU within a village in general. An organisation of emotionless assassins and weapons. Shields and martyrs. The idea of people living and dying without a name wasn’t something she thought ethical, although she was not foolish enough to disregard the use and importance the shadowy group held within the protection and running of the village. Yet as she looked down at the bedridden, recently operated upon shinobi, her resolve on the matter felt faltered. What was such a soul, who was rather ignorant to mannerisms not out of malice, but out of a lack of knowledge, doing within the organisation for mindless killers, dogs on the leash for the village? She furrowed her brow in a thought that was soon broken by said shinobi speaking, voice meek as before.

He was requesting the Bingo Book. Honestly, she was surprised. Had the Bingo Book of Sunagakure not been handed out to the ANBU and Jounin? She put a hand to her head. All that meant to her was more paperwork. Well, it also meant that the village was in worse shape than before, and that she had more desperate need to work harder, and work faster. If the ANBU didn’t know who was a criminal, or a danger… It wasn’t a positive sign. Waiting for him to finish, she prepared her thoughts, gathering and organising the information in her mind as she prepared to compose her sentence. The next point he made was about his poor first impression. He at least showed self awareness, which was always a positive trait that she couldn’t deny respecting. If one could admit their own faults, one could work past them. That alone is more important than admitting one’s own faults, yet refusing to act upon it because one had acknowledged it.

Sighing, Midori stood up, setting her newspaper back down onto the side table. “I will request a nurse to send some water for you, and leave it here. As for your bingo book… I am disappointed to hear that they have not been handed out prior. I will hope you are an odd case, and that the rest of the ANBU and Jounin have such a book. If they do, or not, regardless of the outcome, I will ensure you have your list when the recovery process has passed. You wish to have a meeting in the future, so, I can give it to you at that moment. If they do not have their books, however… Well, it will be a long week…” she said with a slow nod to herself, before shrugging.

“As for the meeting, you are to visit me after your two weeks of recovery. I will be in my office, arrive at o eight hundred hours, no sooner, no later. At this meeting, we will do a post-operation check up, as well as discuss your placement within the ANBU proper, the tasks I will be expecting of you, and assigning a mission. Until then, you are to do no work but rest. You will be given sick pay as is required, and if you spot any emergencies or things of concern, you are to not interfere, and are instead to retreat, and inform, raise an alarm, or whatever you need to – do not engage. As a wounded shinobi, you will only put yourself and the village at risk if you attempt to attack while not at your peak, and if you truly believe something is a threat, you would wish to alert the village regardless, let alone when you are not at peak performance. That is all. I will be off now, and if you have any further queries, please submit them to the administration office to be passed along to myself.”

Walking over to the door, Midori carefully pulled it open, standing there for a moment before turning and looking behind her at him. Taking a moment, she gave him a smile, before speaking in a voice that was entirely void of malice. “Oh, and, as this is an official meeting, you don’t need to use the window. The door to the office will suffice.”

With her piece said, Midori shut the door behind her, walking off back to her office. The walk through the streets was simple enough – the sun was close to being set at this point, hours having passed, and as she walked through the doors to the Sunagakure administration office, she went straight to her office to finish off her work for the day. There was something important of which she had to do. So, with a stern stride, Midori strode to her desk, sitting down and grasping at her quill with her prosthetic limb as she began to write out on a piece of parchment…

853 + 6800 = 7653

[EXIT]

Training:

Syekren stared at the ceiling as he listened to his Kazekage speak. She was surprised that he hadn't actually been given a bingo book and thought the same as he had: that jounin and ANBU should be given them automatically. That he hadn't received one apparently was part of a larger problem, should he not be a rare case. This was a bit disconcerting to the young man laying in the bed.  He hoped that he was the only one who hadn't been given a bingo book, but somehow that just didn't seem likely.  She mentioned that he would have his bingo book and since he wanted to have a meeting, then they would meet and she would give it to him then. It would definitely make it much easier, but she was concerned about whether they had their lists or not. If they didn't, well she believed it was to be a long week and Syekren's mind, barely able to comprehend what was going on, had to agree. But he supposed that was only because he didn't know what was actually going on at this point, he trusted the Kazekage to know what she was talking about though and did his best to nod along with her to agree.

He was to visit her again two weeks from today, so that he would be fully recovered by then, and he grunted in agreement. She told him that he would meet in her office at eight in the morning and no later, once again he grunted in agreement. He was usually more strong willed, but this transplant had taken a lot out of him. Or was it the anesthetics? Either way, he was not feeling up to shape. Realizing this, she said it was probably better for him to not do anything while he was recovering, opting mainly to observe and report than to fight off what was going on. If he did see something he would be to report it immediately to another ninja of higher rank so that they could deal with it, or have an ANBU deal with it, or something. Either way, he was to do nothing and allow the other ninja to pick up the slack. Syekren wanted to protest, but knew she was probably right and it was for the best. He was in no shape to even do missions or spar, let alone fight off any dangers. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eye and breathed deeply. This was going to be a long two weeks.

She was to be off and if he had any more questions he would need to relay them to someone in administration for the message to get back to her. She paused at the door, mentioning with a coy smile that this was an official meeting: meaning he could use the door. With that she was gone, and the Uchiha was alone in the room again. He opened his eye to stare at the ceiling and look around. He was going to be on rest for a few weeks, but didn't want to stay here the entire time. He preferred the dark quiet of his quarters in the ANBU 'nest' and would make sure to get there as soon as he was able. For now though, the Uchiha resigned himself to resting in the hospital, closing his eye and drifting off to sleep. He made a mental note to get up and at 'em as soon as possible, to make sure that his body wouldn't suffer from the inactivity.

EXIT

TWC: 602 + 7,797 = 8,399
Transplant: 3,000
WC: 5,399

Training: