The Village Hidden in Leaves was definitely a sight to see, especially to a desert-dwelling yokel who hadn’t had the chance to enjoy civilization for months, but Rokumaru’s weariness from traveling for over a week dampened the otherwise dazzling effect the great village had on the boy. Its high walls were a welcome sight when he had finally broken through the tree line of the massive forest that seemed to drown him with its dense lushness; the redhead would take the open desert over this crowded wasteland of green. After a few days of trying to keep his balance on tree branches while sleeping and failing to catch the various small mammals that roamed among the bushes, he would have done all sorts of things to not spend one more night in the cold wilderness.

Being admitted through the huge stone gates was an easy enough process due to his supposed ‘refugee’ status, the slim guard that was processing him seeming interested in his declared origin of Suna, and it seemed that the village had an overall welcoming attitude towards the displaced residents of Kaze no Kuni. Considering that he was technically a foreign shinobi- even if the village was defunct he still claimed loyalty to it, privately, in his head and not to the Konoha Chuunin that was processing him- he was let into the village with less trouble or scrutiny than he would have expected. His photo was taken and information was recorded, meaning Rokumaru was officially on the grid again, but beyond that he was admitted to the village without further supervision.

The first thing that Roku had done after moving out of eyesight of the gate was moving away from the crowded main streets of Konoha into a narrow alleyway, where the redhead quickly sped through a short series of handsigns before being momentarily lost in a cloud of smoke that he waved away. He stood beside three other perfect copies of himself, the Kage Bunshin making the alleyway a bit more crowded, and as they each left without a word to go about their business, Rokumaru took a moment to evaluate their appearance. Reflections in glass and ponds were never as detailed as seeing something in person.

His appearance was, frankly, scruffy at best and concerning at worst. The clothing he wore was showing the signs of poor maintenance, stained and scuffed with his right pant leg torn from a sturdy root he had tripped over, but it was almost appropriate when he saw how thin and dirty he truly was. Rokumaru’s clones all shared his dull, matted red hair and wiry frame, and all this coupled with his usual slouch made for an admittedly embarrassing sight. The smudged headband that hung loosely from his neck apparantly marked him as a refugee in this place, and it was not a label that could be denied at the moment.

Roku let the clones go without making them henge their appearance or disguise themselves, as he was too fatigued to care about drawing attention to himself. All three were created with a single objective in each of their minds: the first was supposed to wander around the streets of Konoha, taking in the sights and helping him familiarize himself with the area, until it was dispelled by something or other. The second was sent out to find an affordable place to sleep for the next week or two and dispel itself when it had found something it liked. The third Clone was simply just to see if he could make three clones, and the lack of nausea or passing out marked it as a success. That clone was given leave to do whatever it wanted, which apparantly meant to go carve some sand out of the cliffs that the village were built around.

Rokumaru himself, although weary from the journey and needing a long rest, needed to indulge in being a part of civilization again. For a month he had subsisted on scavenging and hunting, dirty fruits and dry snakemeat, and so the only thought on his mind was finding something that a cultured individual could call cuisine. Many of his more enjoyable dreams were centered around the various food stands that the Bazaar of Suna held, teasing him with memories of barbecue and noodle restaurants. Now, here in what was supposed to be the greatest village in the world, Rokumaru would indulge in the excesses of life for one night.

The effect of having three active Kage Bunshin out and about was a drain on his already tired body, but he stiffly walked the streets of Konoha’s financial district looking for a suitable place to dine. There were various establishments that caught his eye, some that sold things he had never tasted before, but his eyes were searching for something opulent and ostentatious, something to make the most out of decision to indulge.

Eventually Rokumaru knew he had found the right place when he came upon a moderately-sized upscale restaurant with patrons that looked to be on an entirely different scale of wealth judging by their fine, crisp attire. The burly doorman masquerading as a greeter gave the dingy foreigner a sharp look when the redhead had entered the dimly-lit lounge but made no move to eject him from the premises. The windows of the establishment were painted with the name of the business in flowy script, reading ‘The Gilded Branch’ across the clear surfaces.

The restaurant was split into three sections; a spacious dining area with tables and booths towards the front of the building, a bar tucked into a corner that had a rather large wall of alcohol behind it, and an open kitchen with various doors leading off to other rooms at the back of the building. Its decor was simple, with framed paintings of various landscapes and dim, cozy lighting, but the furniture and furnishings themselves were ornate and very obviously expensive.

Roku ignored the distasteful looks of the other patrons, and the staff surprisingly enough, as he made his way to a table that allowed him to sit with his back against the wall and facing the entrance. An older man wearing a plain but finely-made black yukata came by moments later to relay the various specials and dishes that were available, the price of every single one making the indulgent teen wonder how exactly a single meal could cost thousands of ryo. He was willing to drain his remaining money on these luxuries though, expecting to find opportunities to use his abilities to earn ryo eventually, and so Roku sent the man off with an order for onigiri and sushi and teas and wine, just to whet his appetite.

As the man taking his order went off to process it, without even a single disapproving look towards the grungy teen during the whole process, Rokumaru took the time to look back at the people who were staring at him so openly. Certainly there were many wealthy people here, some couples in booths and larger groups dining at long tables, and they dressed in silks and furs and leathers that made his simple t-shirt, grimy coat and baggy trousers look inappropriate for this venue. Those people were not who he was really interested in, however; Rokumaru was looking for any signs of a shinobi in the restaurant, looking for any headbands or identifying characteristics that made them stand out. Perhaps having some wine would give him the courage to approach one for conversation.

Chakra - 50/200:

WC: 1261

Tsuyo had claimed his house, his freedom and everything he had ever wished to achieve both as a medic and a taijutsu master. He had truly mastered his body and now retirement was just a morning regiment to maintain his discipline and then off to do whatever he liked. His investments had paid off as they always did this year so he was very well off. Living in the luxury he always enjoyed. Of course the funds were still under a different identity only the Aoi Bara had known him as but he didn't mind that much. He was home in Konoha, his enemies long faded away or giving him a wide berth for an understanding of his power. He had funding that felt limitless, he had power few could match, He had freedom and he had peace. Truthfully it was relaxing. At the same time however no longer having anything to do when you once fought in wars and against some of the most powerful people in the world, destroyed organized crime across an entire nation and ruled a hidden village as well as led the worlds greatest missing nin group, it was incredibly boring. He needed something to do. Or someone...

For today however he was simply wandering about the village. He had finished his morning work out, showered and changed from his work out clothes into his usual suit. Black slacks with pressed creases sized to his leg length. Custom fitted. Black and shined shoes seemed to defy the dirty streets as he walked. A leather belt held his two knives hidden away in the small of his back. As for a top he was wearing a silver buttoned up shirt with a black tie hanging down the center. A blue rose pin holding it together. Over it was a vest that was black in the front and white in the back. Lastly he was wearing a long coat over his shoulders like a business coat. His arms weren't in the sleeves but it seemed to cling to him rather well. Yet something was off about the coat. It looked like a fine fabric but it caught the light ever so slightly. As if there were some sort of small crystal embedded through out the entire coat. Even if the one who had crafted the coat had eventually turned on him and framed him, the coat was still a powerful item.

For the time being though hunger had taken him. It had its grasp on his stomach and was not about to let go. However he didn't feel like slumming it today. No ramen shops or barbecue joints. Those were for people on a budget and even then a treat. Instead he would want something more high end. A place where coat tails were worn by the person who greeted you at the door. Luckily for him he had invested in such a place. Even helped secure trade routes for some more luxury goods. Even so he enjoyed the place despite the way they felt towards him. It was a bonus though to be a vip in such a place. Still he would approach the front door. The door man bowing to him and opening the door quickly. No sooner had he entered then the head of staff noticed him and grabbed two attendants with a yank on their sleeve and pulled them with him. Greeting Tsuyo as he looked passed them over the establishment. Bowing in a line in front of him. Tsuyo would let his eyes wander over the people before that silver gaze shifted to the one thing out of place. A young man with torn and old clothes. A suna headband barely hanging onto him. A shinobi from the sands? A survivor. He would glance back to the wait staff and smile before speaking.

"Ahh I would like the table with the young man sitting at it please." Tsuyo would say with a nod. The head of staff would begin to assure Tsuyo they would kick the riff raff out immediately before Tsuyo would place a calming hand on his shoulder. "Not at all. He is my dinner date this evening. I will be sitting with him. Would you mind picking out a nice year of wine for us please?" Despite their shocked looks he would excuse himself before moving over to the young mans table. Smiling down at him with his forked beard almost framing his chin perfectly. Silver eyes looking to see if he could make eye contact. "If you don't mind, I would like to sit with you young man. Some wine in it for you."

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It seemed the other patrons had seen enough as they returned to their own business, though the tables to either side of him finished their meals quickly and both left soon after his arrival. Rokumaru did not take offense to any of this behavior as he knew he was out of place amongst all these wealthy people. After sending his order off he took a few moments to look around at the opulent establishment he chose, observing the oil paintings that hung around the building. Across the room on the wall hung a portrait of the first Hokage, a dark-haired Senju wearing the plate armor of the Warring Clans period, and he admired the painting for a few moments.

He had chosen a spot against the wall so that Roku could see those who came and went, but the strain of having quartered his chakra between himself and his three clones made the fatigue he felt from traveling only more noticeable. The redhead folded his arms in the table and laid his head down as he rested his eyes, contemplating if they would wake him when his food arrived or if they would toss him out as soon he fell asleep. The temptation to do so was strong, and he decided to push his luck with the owner’s patience.

A commotion at the entrance of the building caught his ear and he lifted his head to see the staff of the restaurant had just welcomed an important patron; they looked at the dark-haired man with respect and seemed to wait upon the man more than anyone else here as he looked around for a place to sit. Rokumaru eyed the fine clothes the stranger wore and was particularly interested in the coat that hung loosely from his shoulders; it seemed to glimmer slightly when the lighting above reflected against the coat, and the redhead was sure it was made of something other than mundane silks. Though the man was tall and slim, with a hard body and firm build that spoke of serious effort taken into maintaining his health, Rokumaru wrote him off as just another wealthy foreignor he had no time for. He set his head back down on his arms and rested his eyes, hoping a meal that bankupted him would provide a boost of energy to finish the day.

The sound of a man’s voice close by surprised him and Rokumaru flinched as his head shot up to find the man was now standing at his table, silver eyes that had been too far away to see before now focused on him with undivided attention. The stranger politely offered to join the Suna-nin, offering refreshments as a courtesy, and Rokumaru was not sure he could have refused. Though the man did not bear any visible Hitai-ate, Roku felt something about the man that gave legitimacy to his air of confidence. “By all means”, he said with a gesture at the chair across from him, but his reddish-brown eyes could not help but stare at the man’s own silver ones. They looked so familiar; Roku was not sure if he had seen them in a book somewhere, or if he had met someone who had a similar pair. “I’m certain they’ll toss me out if I gave you any problems, anyway”.

Now having a guest, and from all appearances an important one at that, Rokumaru rubbed his eyes and waited for the man to be seated. It was a guarantee that he was going to harass the man with questions. There were many wealthy people here, with himself definitely the lowest-class patron in attendance, and yet the staff did not show the other patrons the level of respect they did to this bearded stranger dressed in fine clothes, so much younger than the other patrons who stole glances at the two seated with each other. He had two theories: one, that the stranger was a high-caliber Konoha-nin who chose not to wear his headband, and his power was what gave him his respect. The second theory was that the man had a financial stake in the business and that they simply treated him like that because they were obligated to.

Deciding to get introductions out of the way, the redhead spoke up. “My name is Sabaku Rokumaru, once a Chuunin from Suna before all that mess.” He could have spoken further, explaining he was now without a career or home, but he was sure everyone could see that judging from his ripped, dirty clothes and the grimy hourglass headband hanging from his neck.

Who he was did not matter so much as who exactly this man who approached him was. He thought himself a great judge of character just from looking at someone, but there were too many differentiating traits about the stranger to pin him down completely. He was wealthy, obviously; the coat he had arrived in looked to be worth more than Rokumaru currently possessed, and the staff identified the bearded man as someone of importance the instant he had walked through the doors. Taking another glance at the man’s slim yet muscled body, he felt comfortable enough to ask “You wouldn’t happen to a shinobi by any chance, would you?”

Was he a merchant, maybe? He seemed much too young to have made his fortune through business ventures, so he could have been family to someone who had. Perhaps he was from a clan; the odd-colored eyes across from him were incredibly distinctive and he seemed to be in combat-ready fitness, meaning both could have come from the influence of a clan. Rokumaru rubbed his temple with his right hand as he tried to focus on the names of the Konoha clans he had read from a book so long ago. He was in poor shape though, mentally exhausted from the clones just as he was physically exhausted from the trip, and nothing came to mind beyond the beginnings of a headache. Roku looked around for the servers, hoping the wine would arrive. Somewhat amused by how the staff treated this stranger, he wondered just how quickly they would move to meet his requests.

Rokumaru looked across the table at the man who had approached him, thinking of what he should ask first after the man gave his own introduction. The Sarutobi came to mind; perhaps the man knew something of him when that dog had been a Konoha-nin. Deciding it was impolite to ask about genocidal murderers within the first few moments of conversation, Roku moved that topic to the end of his question queue.

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He would accept the seat with a slight bow of his head. Moving the seat out himself before placing himself within it. His right ankle crossing over his left knee to rest there. The boys comment of the likelihood of them kicking him out if he were to deny Tsuyo seemed almost laughable. Not untrue though he was sure. For a restaurant he had provided with a means to be greater than it once had been they certainly were turning into sharks drawn to blood in the water. Choosing only elite clientele was shameful. There were others in the world that would wish to just taste the quality they could provide and yet they would deny them. Perhaps it was due to cost or maybe they were simply growing rather full of themselves. Tsuyo would adjust his cuffs before sliding his coat off his shoulders to drape over his chair. Something they had oddly enough not bothered to ask if they could hold for him. They already knew he wasn't about to hand something like that over. Still he would smile as the young man introduced himself. Perhaps it was an oddity that a chunnin from the now ruined Suna would happen upon him. He personally had never spent any time there but Mitsuo always discouraged it. Something about the discomfort of the sand and heat. Perhaps he would sail around its southern border sometime. Find himself a nice Oasis for a winter. For now he would simply concentrate on the subject at hand.

"Yes, what a mess it was. You survived though. Surely that leaves you with some sense of purpose? No?"

As he would finish speaking two servers would arrive. A young man holding a dark bottle with a picture of a blonde lady in a white dress on it. The girl with him carried two wine glasses. The young man explained it was a bottle of Marilyn Monroe Merlot 1987 French Red Wine, 3rd Vintage. It was aged correctly in their very own cellar and they were offering it for five hundred ryo. Tsuyo would nod to them before it was uncorked and wine was poured for both his dinner date first and then himself. There was an air of envy now to the young man. Being spoiled randomly like this. Still Tsuyo paid the looks no mind. Instead they would inquire of his order. "Medium rare steak with a baked potato on the side. A simple enough meal for a simple enough man." he would say with a smile and a wink. They would jot down his order before taking the order of the young mans. Even had he ordered already they would now be pushing to see if he wished for anything else. Only once they had left would he lift his wine glass. Letting it swish a moment before breathing it in. Taking in the strong scent before relaxing back into his chair and sipping at it. His silver eyes looking over to the boy as he asked his next question. Was he a shinobi? Tsuyo would chuckle a little as he responded with a smile.

"I was once upon a time. Though I don't work under the employ of any specific nation anymore. I dabble here and there in other things. Investing mostly. Hyuga Tsuyo is the name. Though being as you are from Suna I have doubts that the name rings a bell. What convinced you to head for Konoha? Lush grasslands? Certainly not one would think. Not for a Sebaku anyway. The sandmen of Suna." He would tilt his head as a lady began to sing softly on the stage. His back to most of the room and yet one could easily get the sense that he was aware of all of it. Every last person and movement. Still he would sip his wine one more time before suddenly he would glance down to it. His voice more serious as his eyes looked over the glass at the boy. "Your world has turned into something cruel. But I suppose the most important question is, are you still waiting to be saved?"

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The man sat down and removed his coat before placing it on the back of his chair, smiling at Roku’s introduction of himself all the while. The stranger agreed that what had happened to Suna was a mess, an understatement as it was, but also pointed out that the redhead was lucky enough to survive what had happened. He assumed that such an event would lead Rokumaru to having some sense of purpose regarding the incident.

It actually did, though the teen supposed it was not an impossible idea that the downfall of your village would leave the remaining survivors with a goal or dream to fall back on. He figured the stranger knew from the flak jacket and headband that Roku was a Suna-nin, assumed that the redhead was on a path towards some noble goal, and just wanted to see what it was for himself. He did not feel inclined to wave off this stranger’s attention; not having a dinner guest in months, Roku was willing to entertain the man for a half-hour or so if he did the same.

Before he could confirm or deny it the table was approached by a pair of servers, a bottle of red wine in hand that the silver-eyed man allowed to be placed before them both while a young woman took his order. Rokumaru admired the way the staff here seemed to serve this stranger to the best of their ability, even pouring out wine into the empty cup they sat in front of them both. He was suddenly feeling so much less weary in the presence of this native who was given so much respect without batting an eye about it. Was he used to this sort of treatment? If he was, Rokumaru very much envied the man as he sipped from the wine glass hesitantly. Sweet, fruity flavors overcoming the taste of the alcohol made the beverage entirely too delicious for safety, and he took another sip after waving away the server looking to see if he wanted anything else.

Roku took this moment to ask if the man had ever been a shinobi, his fit and youthful appearance standing in stark contrast to the lavish lifestyle he didn’t seem to be uncomfortable with.

The stranger smiled and laughed a bit, enigmatically stating that he had been a shinobi at one point. That he did not limit his services to one single village or nation and instead chose to do as he liked, with investing being his favorite. Was that why they treated him so well here, because he had invested? Seemed like the most obvious answer, one he probably could have guessed up to now. That piece of information was nowhere near as interesting as finding out that the man was not only a shinobi, but a rōnin, just as he was despite not considering himself as one. Was he just another nobody who could use chakra and could slip under the various villages’ radars like Roku was? It didn’t seem like this was the case.

He introduced himself as Hyuga Tsuyo, commenting that it was unlikely that someone from Suna had heard of him. Some of the older shinobi may have run across him at some time, but Rokumaru knew only about the Hyuga clan from a textbook years ago. Now he knew why those eyes seemed familiar: they were the Kekkei Genkai of the entire clan, famed for their unmatched sight, and the light-colored orbs were a stark contrast to Tsuyo’s otherwise dark features.

Continuing, Tsuyo asked what exactly it was that could have convinced Roku to leave the familiar dunes of the desert behind for the Hidden Leaf and it’s never ending green landscape that encroached from every side. He even displayed some knowledge of the Sabaku clan when he pointed out their penchant for the sands of Kaze no Kuni, seeming to understand how uncomfortable it was for Rokumaru to be away.

The restaurant’s entertainment began as a women started to sing on the stage, her soft dulcet voice distracting him for a moment, Rokumaru still thinking about how to answer. But Tsuyo had more to say as he looked into his glass of wine, his formerly friendly and accommodating voice evening out as he spoke. The redhead felt a pressure on him when silver eyes pierced his own from across the table. Tsuyo pointed out that the boy’s world had become something cruel; Rokumaru felt that was an understated way to describe the destruction of his village and the murdering of many of his clan mates, but it was by no means inaccurate.

Tsuyo continued on, asking if Rokumaru was still hoping to be saved. This confused the redhead; his eyebrows drew together as he swirled the wine in his glass, half full from it’s surprisingly delicious taste, and he struggled to find the hidden meaning behind the man’s words.

Did he want to be saved? No, Roku decided, because that was placing too much trust in someone else to do the saving. Several months ago, when that day came, who had saved them then? No one. The Kazekage was a ghost then and now, and none of the elite Jounin had been able to stop the attack from taking place. And all the while Rokumaru had watched, too weak to do anything but become another burned corpse, hoping someone would save them. And how had that worked out? Poorly.

Roku drank from his glass and drained the container of wine, setting it down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You can’t rely on others to save you. If you can’t save yourself or those you care about, then how can you expect someone else to do it for you?” The redhead would reach across the table to grab the wine bottle and filled half the cup with it, feeing a bit greedy after having a taste of the booze. Taking another small sip, he continued speaking. “I left the desert to become strong enough that I would never need to be saved. As much as I wanted to stay, there is no benefit to staying in those ruins, stagnate, comforting myself with memories. I need to be stronger”.

His second wind found in the glass of wine, Rokumaru now felt wide-awake as he took a second measure of the man who had seated himself here. A shinobi of unknown skill, though it was probably pretty considerable if he could have retired from the life to spend his time on business matters. The man still resided in Konoha, and the Hyuga were native to the village, so Roku felt safe to assume he had been a Konoha-nin at one time. Not overly young, maybe just entering his thirties, but still too young to be retired. It all made Rokumaru feel a bit on edge, despite how crowded and public the establishment they were sitting in was, as he began to realize he had just been approached by someone much, much stronger than him and was aware of his identity as a Suna-nin.

Blinking, his face blank, Rokumaru set the glass of wine down on the table and slid it away from him. He took a moment to adjust his clothing, straightening the collar of his flak jacket and unbuttoning the pocket he kept his kunai in. Placing his hands palm-down on the table, Roku spoke to Tsuyo. “Forgive me, I’ve developed a habit of leaving my guard down around strangers since what happened”. He suddenly felt less happy about taking a seat against the wall, feeling a bit trapped against it, but he covered up his anxiety with indifference. “If you must know, sir, then I’ll inform you of why I’m here. Are you familiar with the name Sarutobi Mitsuo?”

As someone from Konoha the man must surely know of the supposed ‘Sword Saint’, so Roku continued. “The man was involved in the destruction of the Hidden Sand, and for that I must bring him to justice”. The redhead hesitated before reaching out for the wine he previously moved away, suddenly needing a drink. “I also believe he entered the Sabaku clan compound and murdered those who were within, and that I am only alive because I was not there at the time. For that, I have to kill him.” He only assumed it was the Sword Saint who had done so, as the wounds inflicted by blades were the only evidence to have survived the fires.

Rokumaru felt unsure of what to do: his chakra was already drained from the clones, though he wondered if he could go against this Hyuga even with his full supply. He wasn’t sure how the man would take Roku’s admittance about hoping to kill a former Konoha-nin; hopefully the man had no loyalty towards someone who was not even a part of this village anymore, or that the man wouldn’t try to change his mind. “Actually, if there was somewhere in this village that I could learn about the man, I would appreciate being pointed towards it. My progress has been slow, and all I know about him is his affinity for Katon and kenjutsu”.  He was curious to see how the man would respond. It was normal for shinobi to have plans to assassinate one another, so surely he understood that this was between the Sarutobi and himself.

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Tsuyo would quietly finish his own glass as the boy did the same. Their order was placed for the time being and they had some time to kill before their meal would arrive. His own glass would be set before him before he folded his hands over his knee and ankle. Relaxed but poised. It was an odd combination and yet he seemed to pull it off rather well. His forked beard would twitch with his smile as he studied the other boy before him. He was such an interesting character. Though his ambition seemed to excel more than his current capabilities. Oh but the wine was delicious. He could feel it warming him though it had tasted more like a juice than an actual alcoholic beverage. Perhaps he would order a few bottles for his train car. Perhaps not, it was likely to get rather lively within that location and if such a prized item were to find itself damaged he might take it rather personal. He couldn't afford to have a temper over something that would be his own fault. He would almost sigh as he would feel himself regret it just a little. Oh if only he could smoke in here. Regardless he would sit back and listen. Allowing the other to pour himself some more as his question was answered. Still something would feel odd. He could feel the kids dwindling chakra pressure. Slowly fading more and more. How odd. Still his response was an interesting one. Enough to hold his attention for a moment.

The boy would speak about how it was foolish to wait for someone to save you. Why would they if you lacked the power to save yourself? He had a need to be stronger because he was a survivor. Some would have chosen a different path. Some would have chosen to flee from conflict. To avoid it. Instead this boy already understood the truth of the world. There would always be those who could be taken from and those who would take. He would not allow others to take from him if he could grow strong enough to prevent it. A view point from the eyes of someone who had lost a great deal. Tsuyo would glance to his own glass as it sat empty on the table. The search for strength to overcome ones adversities. He could understand that much. Still the boy adjusted himself. Adjusting his collar and even opening his kunai pouch. A curious move. Did he feel safer with a weapon more readily available? A curious idea. If Tsuyo wished it the entire vest would turn to dust in a moment. However he doubted the boy wished for as much. He didn't appear to be looking for a fight but instead simply preparing for one. So one man turns your world upside down and now its all foreign and dangerous. How sad a reaction. Yet Tsuyo didn't move to stop him. If it comforted the poor boy he would by no small means move to discourage him from such a simple gesture.

Still at the mention of his close and personal friend and a need to kill him Tsuyo would frown and his attention would be fully on the young man. He didn't understand the reasoning behind it nor did he care? He didn't care for what Mitsuo had done but they had intended to target that corruption eventually. Tsuyo had simply expected it to be more surgical and less mass destruction. Perhaps that was why Mitsuo had not brought him along. He couldn't allow himself to be limited in his pursuits by Tsuyo's difference in ideals. Still something had been done to free the people. The corruption so spread through out that cutting it or burning it like a cancer had virtually killed the entire organism. They had the opportunity to rebuild now. That this boy would wish Mitsuo dead and was looking for information on him was simply a basic and instinctive response to the ordeal. He had lost people in the battle and now sought out his own form of justice. Of course Tsuyo already knew Mitsuo had been virtually released by a world court of Kage for those crimes. Placed as a ward of Kumo for the time being. However he would be highly unlikely to divulge that information easily. Instead he would speak once more to the boy as their food was nearly prepared. His voice soft and yet with a hint of warning to it.

"I know the man well and usually I find his decisions to be driven by a sense of honor. If you wish to kill him, you will indeed need strength. As you are now you would simply die in an instant. However the world has enough people out there with their own sense of executioners justice. I would instead offer you a bargain. I will see to your training personally. Each session I will speak with you as to the merits of being a hero for the people instead of a vigilantly for yourself. If I have not changed your mind by the end, if you can kill me you will be ready to face him. If you cannot kill me, he will not be within your reach. We can discuss it as we go. The village, the people, what happened and what you intend to do about it. You have been the victim, I offer you the chance to help other victims before atrocities overwhelm them. Oh and," With that he would reach out with his left hand. He had realized what was going on now. He could feel the thread passing by him connecting the boy to his clones. A couple other threads were in different directions out of reach but one would do as an example. With his hand he would grasp what would seem to be thin air to his side to the establishment and even Rokumaru. However Rokumaru would feel a pull on his connection to one of the clones. When Tsuyo squeezed suddenly the connection would sunder apart. The clone destroyed. His connection to it torn by this mystery man sitting across from him. "Your full attention if you please. Dinner will be my treat as you consider my offer but I won't have your mind wandering elsewhere while we speak."

Politely matching the pace that the younger boy drank at, Tsuyo sat with unexpected patience as he listened to Rokumaru go on about his business here. The man waited for him to finish as the boy discussed his thoughts about being saved, watched indifferently as the redhead unbuttoned a pocket to keep his weapon within reach if he needed it. Little as it could do, in all likelihood. If he was at all disrespected by the move then the Hyuga made no show of it. Rokumaru knew any shinobi worth their salt could identify which pocket of his bulky tan flak jacket contained his kunai, so the fact that he still felt at ease in a potential scuffle encouraged the lanky Suna-nin to keep it where it was.

It was only when Rokumaru spoke of the Sarutobi that the man had any visual reaction to the words he said, a frown at that, but speaking of a revenge-killing had always been distasteful dinner conversation. The redhead brushed it off as typical Konoha morals, holier-than-thou when it came to foreign shinobi. No one could understand the terror that those people brought on his village unless they had seen it themselves; all for the crimes of a small handful of the vast amount of displaced people who lost their homes and loved ones. The opinion of this silver-eyed stranger made no difference to him.

Tsuyo surprised the boy by revealing that not only had he heard of the Sarutobi, but he apparantly knew him well. Though Roku wondered if they were thinking of the same Sarutobi Mitsuo when Tsuyo said that he found the man to be driven by a sense of honor. He doubted Rokumaru’s ability to fight the man and said as such, expecting he would die in a moment which the redhead did not find entirely unlikely. The words were still deprecating towards him and supportive towards his foe, and he was wishing he had the chakra to waste in something petty like sneaking sand into his dinner guest’s wine.

But Tsuyo took the boy by surprise once again when he suddenly extended an offer to accompany him, that he would personally see to his training. But the offer seemed to come at the price of being cautioned against his current course of action. It seemed that Tsuyo found his intentions to be unsavory, likening the redhead to a vigilante blindly pursuing his own vision of justice. That when they were finished he would be forced to fight against Tsuyo if the man could not convince him to abandon his path to revenge. Taken by surprise, Roku listened as the man offered to listen to his thoughts about what had happened, thinking the redhead was a victim too.

The idea was offensive, frankly, and Rokumaru felt as much when he thought about someone defending what that rogue had done to not only his village but his family. How could he be a victim when the real victims were buried beneath meters of glass? What was the relationship between Tsuyo and Mitsuo if the former could brush off his need for revenge as some grief-stricken fool’s blind ambition. It all lead to several conclusions about Tsuyo himself that were less than polite, mainly regarding what he could know about his loss and the nerve to think that dog could have been justified in what he had done. Fatigue and a slight buzz giving him an odd feeling of calmness, he was just about to voice those comments in a less than calm manner.

But the Hyuga surprised the boy by suddenly reaching his hand across the table, and in the moment it took Rokumaru to realize the man was moving towards him and had stopped just a short space away Tsuyo clenched his hand into a closed grip and snapped something. A sudden rush of nausea was his only warning before unexpected memories were forced into his head, what he was quickly finding to be a byproduct of the Kage Bunshin technique, and while reflecting on hours of a Clone wandering through the streets and alleys of Konoha he realized that the man across from him had just severed his connection with a single clone.

He was also speaking again and Rokumaru regained focus when he realized he was leaning over in his seat. Tsuyo had wanted his full attention apparantly, and he was not going to receive anything else until he left Rokumaru’s sight. The dark-haired Hyuga graciously offered to pay for the meal the two shared while Rokumaru considered his offer.

The two sat in silence for a moment as Roku rubbed away the sudden headache that had overtaken him, thankful the man was precise enough not to have destroyed all three clones at once. Now resigning himself fully to the situation he had gotten into, knowing the man’s offer came with it many different risks and hassles, he sipped his glass while reflecting on what just happened. When the cup ran dry he placed it aside but did not move to refill it, knowing he was already gambling with the cup and a half he already had.

Tsuyo’s offer was not one he could just immediately decline, as powerful shinobi without responsibilities to a village don’t just offer any yokel the chance to train beneath them and learn more about their targets. Nor could it immediately be accepted, however, as he was certain Tsuyo would attempt to kill him if Roku did not decide to let the Sarutobi walk free. Every part of him knew what the answer was going to be, of course, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t take the time to run through a few mental processes to weigh his options. Suna was gone and so were his superiors, so he was off the clock, having a whole lifetime to look forward to crawling back to that graveyard and dying in some shady oasis somewhere. A man without a better plan. A dog off it’s leash.

Having just started to realize the benefits of being off the leash, unsupervised, it would be difficult yoking himself to another sensei that he wanted deeply to trust. The last one had been a disappointment and the possibility of this arrangement ending up so much worse was obvious, but the rewards greatly outweighed the risks.

Rokumaru cleared his throat, picking up a tablecloth laying to his left and dabbing at a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead, before he responded to his associate. “We might have differences when it comes to what happened, but I appreciate that you respect my right to think the way I do despite whether it is right or not. And I think we both know this is an offer I’m not likely to find again very soon, so I must accept the chance to train beneath you”. He hesitated a moment, his face frowning a bit, and continued. “But why would you offer to aid me if I am planning to kill someone you know and care for? I cannot begin to imagine what sort of person he was before the attack, but you can’t tell me he does not deserve some retribution for the wrongs he’s committed. Why defend someone like that, yet still give me a chance like this despite knowing what I plan to do afterward?”

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Tsuyo would sit back and listen to the boys explanation. The shock of having one of his clones destroyed had its desired effect. He had watched the young mans face contort prior to it into some form of rage. Angry at the discussion at hand until he had been forced to break that train of thought. Tsuyo would watch him with silver eyes. That technique had left his fingers numb for the moment. The physical force needed to snap the connection had created a rubber band effect. The chakra clashing against his own hand in some sort of reflex like retribution. Still unlike it would have done a couple of years or more ago, the snap of the chakra would have been enough to break at least one of his fingers. Now there was not so much as a bruise. Still the young man would speak of respect for his views and even accepting the offer for training. A sly smile would spread across Tsuyo's features at that. The poor boy had no idea the hell he was about to willingly step into. Jounin sought him out for training. For a chunnin, well it was a good thing that he was such an excellent medical nin. Still he would observe the boys exhaustion and head ache a moment. Perhaps that was why he had not released the other two as requested. Or perhaps the request had been unclear.

"Do be a dear, before the food arrives, release your clones. I will repeat myself just this once. I won't have your mind wandering elsewhere as we speak. Do not fret the repercussions. It will be handled."

Tsuyo would smile and wait. Somehow he now knew what technique was in play and that there were more. He had learned to be observant of the tricks of shinobi. Still he would watch and wait. Their food arrived in short order and Tsuyo would smile before shifting his leg so both his feet were on the floor and leaning forward. They would of course place his dish first before placing one for the boy. A pristine version of whatever he had ordered or if he had not a duplicate of Tsuyo's order. Of course they noticed his wine glass was empty and scooped up the bottle to pour another glass for him. Once they were gone he would study the boy once more. If he had acclimated to the establishment yet or if he had done as Tsuyo had asked with the clones. Only once he had if he did would Tsuyo raise his hands. Clapping them together lightly as a light green wave passed through the restaurant in an instant. Everyone there would feel their aches fade away and their energy restored. Everything from the most grievous wound to sore feet would be healed in an instant. Everyone of them feeling like they had just risen from a restful nights sleep. One of his best medical tricks. Certainly enough to get rid of a head ache. Still he would speak in return to the question.

"It's a simple mans simple thought process. I have known the man long enough to know he does not move in such large ways without reason. There may be things you do not yet know that you may yet discover to change your mind. If not, I will try to do so over time. When the time comes though its a simple truth. You will try and kill me if you are still pursuing this path, and whoever wins has the stronger will. The stronger will in the end must be the right one. Do you feel better? No aches I assume."

He would smile to his own little joke. It was an S rank medical technique. If the boy still had any pain it was mental trauma. All in his head. Still he would collect his fork in his left hand and his steak knife in his right. He was armed now though the steak knife seemed the least of the dangers about him. He would poke at his steak before cutting off a small but manageable bite. The meat still red in the center as he savored the flavor of it. Letting out a sigh as he would chew and swallow. Even as he ate each move as measured and in moderation. Just enough to accomplish the goal with surgical precision.

Before he went on Tsuyo rather forcefully asked the redhead to dispel his remaining clones, wanting the boy’s full attention for the remainder of their time there. Rokumaru did not realize that people could detect if he had an active Kage Bunshin; did the man’s doujutsu allow him to see some visualized strand of chakra that he was able to sever? If he truly was a Hyuga then he could likely have done much more to Roku than dispel one of his clones, their combination of Taijutsu and chakra control able to do pretty gruesome things to the body from what he had heard. Just by being within reaching distance he was in danger of death, and one kunai wouldn’t change the outcome. Well, knowing that he would have been dead by now had Tsuyo actually desired it made him feel somewhat safer, and he had no problem complying with the man’s demands if it left him satisfied.

Resting his head back against the wall and closing his eyes Rokumaru formed a seal with his right hand, cutting off the flow of chakra that had kept the clones active. Having dispelled these two himself the redhead was able to recover the chakra that had fueled them; the warm circulation of chakra returning to his coils made the wave of nausea much easier to handle. After a few moments of forcing away the collected memories of the clones he picked his head up to find that the servers had come and gone while he was distracted. His cup had been refilled and their meals set before them, his sushi now seeming like a bad choice given his upset stomach from the nausea.

Tsuyo surprised him when the man raised his hands in the air and clapped them, a wave of green chakra erupting from his palms and spreading through the air around him. Almost immediately Rokumaru began to feel the pain behind his eyes fade away and his stomach settle, noticing his fatigue from his travels had dampened. So Tsuyo had some proficiency with medical ninjutsu as well, it seemed. He already had natural talent in close-combat being a Hyuga, so the skill likely aided him there and made the risk less pressing if he could heal his own wounds. Would he offer to teach the skill if Rokumaru asked? It was something to keep in mind; he was just grateful for the relief. The varying reactions of the various patrons of the restaurant were also enjoyable to see.

The man answered his question regarding why exactly he would help Rokumaru, stating that he believed the Sarutobi would not have done what he had without sufficient reason. And that perhaps the redhead would eventually change his mind, which Tsuyo said he would try to accomplish. If not, the silver-eyed stranger again stated that he would fight Rokumaru when he was believed himself ready, and that one of them would die from the encounter.

He believed that Tsuyo did not think he could win such a fight, and that the Sarutobi would be safe either way. It was still a fair offer, more than he could have asked for, so that looming threat was able to be set aside and dealt with later. Though he doubted it would come down to who had the stronger will, more likely it would be whoever was faster and planned better.

His very hard to predict dinner guest inquired further about his health, asking if he had any other pains that were bothering him. “No”, he replied while rubbing his once-stiff neck in relief, “you’re obviously no slouch with your medical techniques. Thank you”. Having given up on trying to predict what the man wanted to hear, guessing he would see through the attempt, Roku settled for picking up the pronged metal fork they had given him rather than the wooden chopsticks and trying out the very expensive sushi he suddenly did not have to pay for. Never having been a big fan of seafood and simply choosing the dish for his exotic is was to his Suna palate, he could say with certainty it was worth all the hassle he was given up until now. Several more rolls of sushi were eaten as he tried to ignore the way Tsuyo seemed to study him so closely.

Having nothing else to ask about for now, Rokumaru pauses in his increasingly voracious eating to speak again. “I understand the terms of the arrangement, though I doubt there is anything that could change my mind about how I feel”. Holding his hand over his heart, the redhead continued. “From now until the day I am ready to face you, I am yours to command. Do not hold back with what you throw at me; I will not let anything keep me from accomplishing my mission”. He dropped his hand, smiling at the man he had placed his trust in.

Eyeing the glass of wine that had been refilled, Roku pushed away the temptation to consume another. Speaking again to Tsuyo, he asked, “Do you have any requests or tasks for me before we continue with our arrangement? Anything you would like to know up front?”

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Tsuyo would note the other diving into his own meal and he would take the time to gradually consume his steak and the insides of his potato. Avoiding the skin for whatever reason. Perhaps he just didn't like the texture of it. If that was the case though why would he simply not just order mashed potatoes? He seemed an odd man but still he would eat in silence. Mixing some potatoes in the meat juices as he took another bite and followed it down with some wine. He didn't take much notice of the boys lack of drinking with him. The bottle was already more than half gone between them. It wasn't large after all. Still Tsuyo would enjoy his meal in peace for a bit. An idle wave to the thanks for the healing as he ate. The food was wondrous here and the way they seasoned their meat over a long period of time was glorious. Still their portions were not massive slabs of food but instead small refined amounts. Barely enough to count for a meal when it came to filling ones belly. So as it was portioned as such Tsuyo was done rather quickly with his meal.

Tsuyo would finish off the rest of his glass and pour himself another as the young man spoke again. He would pause a moment before setting down the nearly empty bottle. He might have a drinking problem but what did that matter when you could restore your liver to its prime with a deep breath? Still he would lift one of the cloth napkins to dab at his lips before smiling. No holding back on a chunnin? Oh boy. This kid didn't know what he was getting into. Karumo and Harichimo likely just got a cold sweat out of no where. Still he would sit back a moment with a simple nod. Remaining collected, calm and relaxed for the moment. If he wished to be pushed to those limits so be it. Still Tsuyo wasn't being to talkative until he was asked another question. He would regard the boy for a moment longer with those silver eyes before smiling a broad smile. His voice like silk on the ears.

"Seeing as you intended to eat here I assume you have some funds. Spend the day finding lodging for yourself and meet me at the train yard in the morning. I know that your not familiar with the area but anyone can direct you. Its an exciting new time for Konoha after all. Be there an hour after sunrise. For tonight just get your rest. You will need it. As for myself I have some preparations to make. I must bid you adieu for the time being. See you tomorrow dear boy. Bright and early."

He would wink at that before finishing off another full glass of wine. Likely more than a little buzzed from that soon. Still he would set it down and collect himself. Rising from his seat. The dinner meeting was done. If the boy would bow he would nod his head back if not he would simply collect his coat and move to pay the establishment and have them send the kid a desert of his choosing. Something sweet to think back on the next day when his body felt like it might break at every waking moment. He chuckled again before moving out into the streets. A little drunk but more than capable of making his way back to his personal train car. He needed to find those bouncy balls now. They would be useful the next day.

Exit thread

His immaculate dinner guest continued to consume glass after glass of the expensive wine and had Rokumaru not been accustomed to fancy dinners with wealthy alcoholics he would have found the indulgence to be uncouth. But, to his surprise and some degree of amusement, the Hyūga did not show any visible indication that he was becoming strongly intoxicated. His demeanor continued to be composed and deliberate as he gradually ingested the well-seasoned steak whose aroma sharpened his own hunger. His dish was soon devoid of the cold, moist sushi that he’d gradually grew more and more appreciative of as their number grew lower and lower. This establishment he’d ended up in certainly knew their craft. The fact that the entire meal was on Tsuyo’s dime was just icing on the proverbial cake.

The stranger’s voice was almost melodic as he spoke, his soft tone and succinct verbiage going well with his clean-cut appearance; this was the first Hyūga clansman that Rokumaru had the pleasure to encounter, and he seemed to emphasize the cultured way of living that the clan seemed to value so much. The Leaf advised him to find lodging for the night using the ryo he’s saved on this otherwise expensive meal and to meet him at the train yard in the morning. Rokumaru assumed the man meant ‘training yard’, one that he was so familiar with that he simply called it the train yard. Tsuyo advised the youth to ask a local for directions and to arrive just an hour after sunrise. He had preparations he needed to see to regarding their deal, the redhead assumed, and made his goodbyes as he drained his final glass of wine. Roku had stopped counting after the second; the Jackal would like this guy.

Tsuyo rose to his feet, removing his coat from the seat and offering his young dinner guest a nod that Rokumaru returned gratefully. “Thank you for dining with me, and thank you again for your offer. I look forward to tomorrow.” The silver-eyed shinobi departed as he exited the restaurant, stopping for a moment to pay the bill. A waitress soon arrived with a menu in hand for Rokumaru to peruse as Tsuyo had apparantly gifted the boy with some indulgence of his own, and though the slim youth thought the generosity was a bit much he still left the building with a few small bundles of matcha tea cookies wrapped in parchment paper. The fact that it was possibly charity to a poor refugee did bother him, but he could swallow his pride for cookies.

He would save the treats for his meeting with Tsuyo tomorrow, to offer to the man seeing as he had paid for them anyway. Roku had no idea that he would meet such an individual over something as mundane as dinner at the ritz, but it made sense that such occasions would eventually bring certain individuals together. Though the stipulations of the deal Tsuyo had offered to Roku brought him new concerns to add to the list an opportunity to shadow a higher-ranked shinobi was, by itself, an unreasonably lucrative chance that the Suna-nin could not allow to pass. If nothing else the Hyūga were known for their prowess in combat and the older Leaf definitely had a physique that belied the power he seemed to contain beneath a proud, almost noble-like way of carrying himself.

Rokumaru sifted through the memories inherited from his clones while absently walking along the sparsely-populated Konoha streets, deciding on where exactly he could rest from his time on the trails here. But the large hotels, various hostels and the occasional taverns with a vacant room all felt too... crowded. No, it wasn’t the crowds that bothered the desert dweller; it was the demographics of the crowd.

He had purposefully ignored the Leaf headbands that seemed to find themselves tied to what seemed like every fifth person that he came across, strangers that stared openly at his grass-stained ochre flak jacket. Ignoring them was the right thing to do as a guest of their home, what he would expect from visitors to the Sand, but Rokumaru was suddenly finding himself uneasy about going to sleep around these righteous treehuggers. The redhead turned down an alley as he made for the South Gate to return to the forest, deciding he preferred the outdoors for just tonight as he acclimated to this new village. The hardened sand hammock he had been refining over the last week was getting pretty comfortable as it improved, he had to admit. The fact that he had continued to travel through the alleyways of Konoha completely unaccosted the entire time, something that was uncommon in Sunagakure before it had burned, did not feel as comfortable as it should.

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[Exit Thread]