Kejido had a couple days off after his promotion but he was eager to increase his strength even further. There was unrest building in Iwa. He could feel that much. It was in the eyes of the weak, the words of the spoiled. Everywhere he went there seemed to be a community with lines underneath of strife. The economy was fine and education was free but something somehow felt off. He always felt uneasy in certain sectors of the village with envious gazes watching him in uniform mixed with the stench of fear. Lurking about here and there. Monsters in the alleys instead of beasts outside the gate. For now though it was a lot of bark and no bite. Still he couldn't simply ignore the unease he was always surrounded by. He knew eventually shit hit the fan. It was usually when everything appeared to be going swimmingly. There was an affliction on the people and he would need to be cure. The military had begun shifting in new patterns and keeping him at arms length for a lot of what was usually common knowledge of operations in the area. Putting that all together, the fan was running, the question was who was gonna shit into it?

For the day he had strapped on a pair of black combat boots with a pair of dark camo pants. Meant for night infiltration along with a black tank top. His form was lithe but firm. Muscles compacted into a thin frame suggested taijutsu training with a focus in speed. He wasn't the strongest man in the room but if nothing else Kejido was known for being highly agile. He could feel the limits on his body fading away. Restrictions on his movements being learned and overcome. A dance with each step as graceful as the last building into a crashing crescendo of such grace mixed with intensity that one might even think he was actually a dancer more than a fighter. Each movement carefully shifting into the next like fluid with no jerking movements. Of course they might just assume he was a dancer if not for the new piece of equipment he was getting used to. A simple thing these metals. Heated and shaped before being sharpened and given a name. His was called the katana. A firm blade with a bamboo handle and a polished edge. The grip was wrapped in a white cloth.

There were still imperfections in both the metal and the steps. One thing anyone observing the man alone in a corner of the training arena kicking up dust with his shifting feet was that this was not the typical style involving a katana. Most Katana strikes were done with slashing motions. Strong motions easily followed through with a perfect cut. However despite that with an unheard of grace Kejido had shifted with a one handed stance into a low position. Each time he shifted his blade would fly forward in a stab before retreating and repeating at a different angle. The training dummy finding a blade thrust along the edge of it to drag the blade and cut deep. Less hacking at it and more sawing motions. However it was the grace of it that drew the eye. Somehow it all just flowed one movement into the next. Almost mesmerizing to look at the young man with dark hair and silver eyes. As if anyone staring at him for too long might drift to sleep or forget what they had been thinking of. His movements drew the eyes and clouded the mind. Hypnotic in nature Kejido moved that way on purpose. Knowing how to create physical illusions to trick and comfort the human mind.

621

It had been awhile since Kizmaru had any time to himself. He was so caught up in the event known as the chuunin exams that he forgot he was still a human that needed nourishment to survive other than learning how to fight all the time. He was on his way to the local Iwa grocery store today to pick up a few things. Nothing spectacular, just some ordinary things you would normally see on a typical shopping list like milk, eggs, butter meat and the occasional sweets like cookies and small cakes. Kizmaru also enjoy some fruits like oranges, peaches and kiwi. There was so many things for him to choose from today and he was running fairly low on food in his fridge and pantry. So he decided now was a good a time as any to go. Today, Kizmaru was dressed in his usual attire of a yellow button down shirt, navy blue pants and black tabi which was his favorite attire as of late. Walking a typical path through the streets of Iwa, he looked around at what he called the "scenery" of the town. It was nice seeing another village and all it had to offer for a brief period of time but Kizmaru had, more than once, felt home sick and possibly just sick in general with all the trees and the greenery that he was forced to see when walking the streets of Konoha. It might have been dull, it might had been bland with not much to see in the sense of tourism but the village hidden in the rocks was the place he called home.

After all, he grew up here, raised here, homegrown so to speak. It was nice and calm with the occasion sounds of trade and commotion. A small smirk appeared across his face before quickly fading away when he approached the entrance of the local grocery. He went in and started to shop for the items that was previously mentioned before. He decided to pick up three kinds of cheese and tomato sauce while he was here since he had some idea of what he wanted to make and eat for the next two to three nights. When he gathered all of his items on his list, he had made his way to the cashier only to find a line had already been formed. He guessed that everybody had he idea to shop immediately as soon as the exam was over. It was only a few moments of waiting in line really. When it was his turn, Kizmaru quickly paid for the groceries and had quickly left the store with two separate grocery bags in hand. Now it was time for him to head back to his place. On his way back, he had noticed something peculiar. It seems he had spotted another boy that was training near the path he was walking on. Kizmaru had paused for a moment, a bit mesmerized by the way he was moving and watched for around a minute and twenty seconds. He then accidentally brushed the cold gallon of milk that he had brought against his leg and shook his head before remembering that he had to get these into the fridge before he forgot and allowed them to go bad.

Kizmaru hurried to his abode, entering his apartment and setting the groceries down to sort them out. Kizmaru had then placed the contents inside the bags where they belonged or where he saw fit to place them if they didn't have a designated area to be placed in. Walking by that other person made him think it was time for him to go back out and train himself. He decided he would make his meal later and step back outside to where the other boy was. Eventually, he made it back to the initial spot he saw him at and decided to watch him from a distance. He figured it would be best to watch what this person did before taking up his own sort of training, whatever he decided he would plan on working on.

W.C: 688

There were things one learned when moving through the forms with a blade. How a quick slice without precision didn't serve a person. How conviction with each thrust meant the difference between hitting a target and passing through it. Once one understood the sword there was a hundred different ways to approach and break an opponent. He could feel his skill raising with each step. Each thrust dragging him to a new height as he moved step after step into the next form. Majesty over raw power. Agility mixed with precision over sheer rage. Calm and dedicated was the way of the blade he chose. Keep calm, keep cool, watch your breathing, time your steps with your sword. No movement breaking from another. Each of them floating into the next. With that understanding though he understood one thing more than he had when he simply held kunai before. Kunai were tools of the trade but hardly effective. He had killed with them before but it had taken skill and effort. This however was a tool of war. The gravity of it was plain in his hands. The weight, the precision in the blade. It was designed to draw blood from man.

He had noticed one individual showing particular attention to him. His attention shifting to him as he passed and made a point of noticing Kejido. Someone he didn't recognize that didn't seem intent on approaching him. It was to be ignored for now. After all shortly after the individual had went on their way. Still it was good they had. He could feel his muscles burning. His lungs heaving. He had no audience now so for the time being he would take a break. Pausing with a quick and smooth sheath of his blade. He would collect a towel before dabbing at his sweat. Leaning his sword against a post before collecting his water bottle. Drowning away his thirst until his muscles seemed to burn less. It felt good to pace himself. To strain but within reason. In ways that improved without harming much. He wasn't much of one for working himself to death. Perfection was not a blind pursuit but a calculated one. He would take several minutes just sipping his water and letting his muscles relax. They were sore but that was just the beginning. He had built muscle groups for one style of fighting. Now it was onto his main style.

He would set his towel and what remained of his water down before collecting two kunai. In his right hand he held it in a reverse grip with the blade pointed down and in his left hand he held it right side up. His footing shifted to one that was more designed for closing distance and keeping movement a priority. He wasn't a stand your ground and go blow for blow type. He always wanted to be moving. Strike, shift, strike and shift again. Dancing around constantly. Much like with the sword though his form seemed to flow one stance into the next. Like a dance with knives he shifted along. His speed remaining a constant without sacrificing form. He practiced at different paces for a moment as he attempted different approaches until his attention was drawn to the other boy again. So the new kid had decided to return. A passing glance was to be ignored but returning a second time and watching. That was not something he could simply overlook. He shifted into a slower set of stance without looking to the other individual across from him. Still he would call out while he continued.

"Do you often sit around staring? If you have something on your mind surely its better to share it aloud?"

1248

Continuing to watch the man train, Kizmaru thought of the training he had performed back at that volcano. It wasn't as monotonous as what the male in front of him was doing and there were definitely some risks of death out there for him. Fighting wild creatures and almost seemingly magical monsters had sharpened his perception quite a bit. He didn't want to lose himself too much in his own thoughts since he was currently watching this other boy train and even thought about asking him to partake since Kizmaru was a little interested in Kenjutsu but he didn't think it was something that he would fully utilize in the long run as his weapon preferences lay elsewhere. Kizmaru was more of a spear or axe man. Sure, he could use swords to some level of degree but he thought it didn't add enough flair for him, as effective as it can be. Still, having experience in various types of weapons could prove useful especially since that's the kind of thing he was interested in with his arsenal. Kizmaru would even go as far as to ask the boy to tutor him a bit on what he knows with a blade and even train with him. Unfortunately for him, Kizmaru wasn't the type of person to so brazenly approach others for favors as well as ask to be included to into things but it seems like this time around, he didn't have to be the one asking.

The boy had apparently noticed his presence, as one of his skills should be since he wasn't exactly hiding but didn't want to approach him. Well, he didn't have a choice now since the boy had decided to ask him if he wanted something. Kizmaru decided he'd respond to the boy's question. "Well, i guess i was interested in your training with your weapons and thought maybe i should train too. I also thought it would be more effective to train with somebody else." Kizmaru had replied. He wasn't very straightforward with his actual intentions. He would more or less preferred to just duke it out then train side by side but sometimes doing this is a nice change of pace. Kizmaru had then leaned against a near by structure, awaiting the boy's response.

W.C: 395

T.W.C: 1083

Kejido would pause a moment as the boy took his words as a reason to approach. An invite into his training circle. A sliding glance over the young man told Kejido enough. He wasn't a civilian. He carried himself towards an armed individual with confidence bordering on bravado. For someone to care so little for a man wielding two knives as he had been the boy was likely certain of his own capabilities. He wasn't spouting fire or lightning like some show off. A quieter opponent...Someone who held their powers in reserve for when needed was always harder to analyze. Still he was closing the distance comfortably. That likely meant he was a close range specialist. Most ranged individuals liked to keep their space. Falling back to their comfort zones without realizing they were doing it. Straight forward and comfortable at a close range. This indidivual almost screamed taijutsu. Yet something about his eyes seemed hard. Studious as they stared to Kejido. His own Silver eyes staring back a moment as he wasn't one to simply avert his gaze to those who knew battle. He had his fair share of killing for his rank. He was a soldier after all.

The other finally spoke of curiosities about Kejido's weapon styles. He had been training openly with his sword and knives so someone studying his style was to be expected he supposed. Not that there was really any trick to discovering his style. A thrusting style with a katana was more rare but still fairly common. He supposed most around here butchered the reputation of the weapon with powerful and broad strikes. The Katana was easily one for finesse. Still he would finish drying his face with a towel a moment before tossing it to the side. Kejido would roll his neck a little before spinning his knives and sheathing them. One on either side of his hip. He would glance back to the boy a moment as he considered the words. More effective training with someone else? He wasn't wrong. Training against ones own body had its benefits but experience in actual combat was something else. Still if he learned anything in his time around the village it was that there were people younger then himself and far more blended in that held rank higher than his own. He would look the boy over again before speaking. His voice was like silk on the ears. Mesmerizing as it seemed to taunt others to listen closely.

"You aren't wrong of course. An individual can only get so far following through practice on his forms. Forgive the late introduction. I am Warrant Officer Heishi Kejido of the Imperial army. As far as the villages shinobi ranks go I would be around Chunnin. If that isn't a real enough challenge for you I do apologize. Still despite my thin frame I am known to surprise my opponents. Whom might you be?" Kejido would say casually as he brushed a little dirt off himself from the training area. None of what he said was a lie of course. He wasn't on the same level as these contracted civilian ninja. He was actually a soldier in the army. His whole clan was for the most part. Simply stationed within the village as a military foothold there while being called on specific missions. Many were specialists in a field but Kejido was aiming higher. The high command desk of his clan would do. For now his silver eyes would remain on the other boy. Watching him and listening. If the boy was over eager and charged straight in, he would be educated quickly.


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