Mitsuo wasn’t sure why but recently he had felt as though something wasn’t right. He wasn’t quite sure exactly what it could be or what it had to do with, but he knew that he felt as though he was being watch, which, as an ANBU Captain, was something that bothered him. He was sitting up in the trees, patrolling the borders of the village and waiting to be summoned by the Hokage for another village, his mask causing him to constantly have a blank expression though he constantly was surveying the area, his ever watchful eye searching for potential threats to the village. He was a shadow, undetectable to almost anyone, and he was proud of that. As he sat high atop his perch and scanned from east to west his eyes eventually came towards the tree and he couldn’t help but notice a small beetle that was sitting on the tree. These beetles had been popping up more frequently recently and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why, as he hadn’t seen their kind before. He was sure it was probably nothing, though, and began to move towards the Naga River to continue his routine scans.

The sun was high in the sky and shining through the green trees of Konohagakure no Kato, a sight that Mitsuo truly thought was the most beautiful thing in the world. He smiled once more and looked towards the lush green forests and opened grassy plains of the Fire Country and the aptly named Village Hidden in the Leaves and felt a swell of pride at the beauty of their surroundings. He inhaled deeply, pulling his mask back just a bit so he could enjoy the fresh air. His dark grey vest was rather warm in this weather, especially because he wore it over his regular chainmail armour, the extra protection always appreciated. He had moved his hands to check his bracers and gauntlets as he often did when he travelled, making sure that they were fixed in place in the event that he may need them. When he lifted his mask his fingers brushed against his newly clean shaven face, something that he had never personally done before since he had started growing facial hair. He liked the feel of it and it was nice for a change, something he would consider doing again at some point. He felt that weird feeling once more, as thought he was being watched, and he turned around, looking back and forth, searching the entire area to find the source of his torment.

He was being paranoid, there was no way anyone could possibly be watching him. He brushed his fingers along the hilt of Seijin no Ken for comfort as he often did, more unconsciously than anything at this point. He had almost moved his finger to push the glasses up his nose, but he quickly remembered he didn’t often wear them anymore, favouring contacts beneath the ANBU’s mask that he wore so often now. His glasses were in his pouch still; for Mitsuo was known for wearing them, and when he wasn’t in his ANBU Captain’s guise he would put them on to avoid any suspicion. There had been a lot of activity in Konoha recently, and Mitsuo wanted to know why. Why was there so much action happening here? They were a peaceful village, why did everyone want to come after them? He was trying to reflect on this when he noticed another small beetle, this one sitting on the collar of his vest.

What the hell is going on?

(600/3000 Kenjutsu B>A)

Oh today was truly ponderous. The man was back. He could hardly contain his excitement. The man had gone and defeated a powerful enemy and returned victorious. No other could truly be his goal and meaning for his heart beat. His bugs kept reporting back to him about the movements of the Anbu captain. He seemed to flow from spot to spot like water but a patrol pattern was evolving. Oh these sweet beetles almost seemed to reflect his excitement. A goal moving closer as Mure flew through the woods. He was trying to catch up, his eyes wide with excitement. His clan where excellent trackers after all. However he would get distracted on the way. You see he had gotten a hold of a couple of wooden practice swords and every once in a while he would swing at a low laying thin branch in his path and snap through it with a lacking grace. His Chinese martial arts made it difficult for him to hold a weapon as most of the Chinese martial arts was an open fist technique. Still he was slowly beginning to get a hold of how to wield a sword. After all some Chinese martial arts branched off into weapons.

He was getting closer now to his target. He could feel the anticipation building with in. He could almost breath in the power from here. Such a difference in skills was hard to believe yet he could already feel it like a sting to his beetles. How they wanted his chakra. It was amazing that some one could bring such a ravenous feeling from his bugs. A smirk played across his face behind his dark mask as dull yellow eyes looked to the future. To the man now stopped. He had managed to get a beetle to rest on his collar but this was more then he had originally hoped for. He felt a tingle move up his spine as he began to wonder. What kind of mystery was behind that mask? The bugs seemed to respond to his arousal. He could feel the mating beginning. So many bugs twisting and buzzing inside would drive normal people mad but not the Aburame. It had become the common place to them. Just like a heart beat. Still his nose bled slightly from the perverted thoughts he was having. Some sword practice leading to a tumble in the grass. His bugs restraining the man to the ground as he stripped him to everything but his mask. Oh yes this was yummy.

Still he moved quicker now through the branches his right hand swinging the sword with some speed and accuracy. As he flew through the air the leaves seemed to fall all around him like it was raining the green of the forest. In no way was he being stealthy. But he was short so being so quick was just another bonus to his training. He landed on some branches on the other side breathing a little heavily now. He paused a moment. He needed to reserve his energy for the training that was so soon to come. He was close now. He could not wait any longer. Regaining his breath he was off again racing through the tree's towards the man that would be his teacher whether he wanted to or not. As he cleared the last of the branches he saw the man and with out hesitation planted his feet on the branches edge to launch himself forward. Flying recklessly through the air towards the man with a big happy wide eyed expression behind his mask. His arms out stretched for a full speed tackle hug.

"Mask Sensei! I am heeeeeere!"

[training bukijutsu 617/1800 quick learner perk]

Mitsuo reached his destination on his routine patrol of the village and stood perfectly still, listening to the sounds of nature around him. He didn’t often like to do this, as time spent standing still was time wasted, but he was almost positive he had heard a noise that didn’t belong. He could hear the chirping of the birds above him, swallows flying and singing along, their wings flapping and the consistent beat sounding like the wind whipping through his travelling cloak. He counted a total of six different birds that were flying overhead, picking out the different tunes using his keen observational skills. He heard the call of the wolves, which were often present in the dense forest, which was close to the Naka River where he was now standing. Their howls filled the sky surrounding the dark forest, a place that many shinobi didn’t dare enter, though Mitsuo wasn’t afraid. He knew there were a lot worse things out there than wolves, and he had fought some of them himself.

He listened to the wind rustling through the leaves and heard the familiar paw pad footfalls of his long time companion Chisoku, the cheetah who had saved him as a child. He watched the forest closely as Chisoku strode out, his silent footfalls wouldn’t have been noticed by most but Mitsuo had learned to hear them no matter what, the sound always being apparent to him. He was smiling under the mask again, clearly realising that he had been mistaken when he thought there might be something off. He was smiling, at least, until he heard it again. It was an odd sound, crashing through the trees, something large, something quick (Though not nearly as quick as the superhumanly fast captain of the Konoha ANBU), and something that sounded human. He looked to the trees where the sound was coming from, his muscles acting instinctively and clutching the hilts of his weapons Seijin no Ken and Chita no Kiba. He nearly drew when he realised it was a young boy running through the forests towards him, screaming something he couldn’t quite understand and hurling himself through the air, wrapping his arms around Mitsuo in something that reminded him of a hug, though the momentum of the boy was trying to knock the solid Jounin down, probably hurting the boy more than anything.

Mitsuo looked down and held his arms out, confused slightly as he looked to the masked boy and cocked his head. He was hugging him, it was pretty obvious, and it was a lot like when Kimaru hugged him, a lot of emotion and love. Mitsuo wasn’t sure why, was this boy in love with him? There was certainly something warm about the boy, but Mitsuo wasn’t sure if that’s what it was. He took his right arm and wrapped it around the boy, the arm not being as effective as it had once been, and kept his left close to a weapon in case the boy tried to attack him for some reason.

“Uh, hello there…Strange child. Is there something I can help you with?” He chose to use a slightly softer voice than he often did with his augmentor, not wanting to frighten or put off the younger boy, but at the same time he kept a hardness to it so that he would realize that he was not someone to be trifled with. He looked towards the strange boy with warm eyes, a curious look flashing across his face and portrayed in his gaze, which was fixated on the odd mask that the boy wore. Who was this boy? Why had he come to him? What were his intentions? Mitsuo would need to find these answers, but mostly would need to discover how the boy tracked him down, as he was supposed to be undetectable, as a shadow in the darkness.

(1258/3000 Kenjutsu B>A)

Mure was rather surprised that he had managed to connect. Even if the impact was likely to leave a little bit of soreness in his chest. The other man was taller then him by a good four inches even. He could feel the tension and the power radiating from the man. So this was what it was like to be Anbu. He held him for a moment as the mans words seemed to ring in his ears as the softest tone. If a little twisted by his own mind. "Hello lovely child. How might I serve you?" Oh how the mistaken words in his twisted mind brought shivers down his spine. The arm wrapped tenderly around him felt so protective. A lovers embrace. His head was tucked under the chin of the mask as he nuzzled deeper. He was so happy just being held that for a time it was all that he could think of. He would fight away angels and demons alike if the apocalypse attempted to start on that spot. He would trigger it to memory. His first step towards that kiss. the sweetness of tender lips hidden behind a mask. His lips brush softly against the inside of his mask as he solemnly recalls that his lips had never touched another. Many thought the Aburame body was filled with disgusting chunks of flesh missing from the cheeks and all over the body. But this was indeed not the case. His body did have circular little holes but they where patterned like piercings separated at every 4 iches on his body. It even appeared to be a unique design. However this still scared those he would mate with. For it was true that within his body hid masses of bugs that could eat a person alive.

However this was not what he had come here for.It was sad that he had to remind himself of such things. Gently he backed up his eyes moving to the grip on the mans sword with his opposite hand. Yes that was why he had come. To learn the method of combat in which he would slice into his opponents. He reached up slowly so as not to disturb the man with an sudden movements and plucked a beetle off his collar. Before petting the top of the beetle with one finger and letting it scurry up his wrist and into a hole there before he spoke.

"That is a queen beetle. Once it is on your person the others of its breed are attracted to it and hunt down the pheromones she produces. This is how the Aburame track another. Yet another reason that I, Aburame Mure, Would make an excellent Anbu disciple. "

He took several steps back then. Watching for the mans reaction to his analysis of the predicament and how the superior man had been tracked. Those dull yellow eyes seemed to bore into the others as if searching for an answer. One he was not entirely sure he would find. Still he drew both wooden swords from his belt and tossed one with substantial force at the other man. He was not experienced enough to form a sword stance but he did know which end to hold. He seemed on edge though as he waited for the other man to catch the weapon replica. It was not entirely odd that he would bring practice swords when asking to be taught the sword. Or at least he hoped it wasn't too odd. Still he spoke as if announcing himself.

"You are my sensei in the way of the sword. And through you I will become superior to the weakness that is within me."

With that he shifted his stance. It was a poor one with bad footing but it was fast. One hand was placed on the side of the blade while the other held the hilt. His feet planted and he launched forward. His speed was actually fast for being a Chunnin. He was moving at special Jounin speed. His hand on the side of the blade seemed to aim it as he turned his body to push the hilt forward in a stabbing motion for the mans gut. Mind you if it connected it would do nothing to the Anbu armor.

[Bukijutsu training 1333/1800]

Aburame, the bug clan. So that's how he did it, fascinating. Mitsuo couldn't help but be impressed by the young boy's skills. It was the damned beetles; he thought something had seem odd about them. They were a special breed of beetle that live inside of their Aburame host’s body, feeding off of their chakra and, in return, helping their host in battle or other aspects of life. He had heard that the Aburame made excellent trackers and sensory type ninja but this, to track an ANBU Captain when the boy was a genin, maybe chuunin in skill tops? It was simply unheard of. Mitsuo smiled softly under his mask. Perhaps this boy was right; perhaps he would be a good ANBU one day. He certainly had one of the necessary skills, one that would help him go far, if only he learned to control other aspects. He looked at the boy once more, breaking from the hug and stepping back slightly after the queen beetle had been removed from his collar.

“So you’re an Aburame you say? That explains why you were able to find me I suppose. Those beetles are amazing, to say the least. To be able to track one such as myself… You may be correct boy; you may yet have a future in the ANBU.” He thought of the possibilities of having the young man, fully trained, standing by his side as the two of them went to hunt missing nin. His amazing sensory abilities and the beetles that gave them to him would be implacably valuable; their second use being the ability to drain the chakra of whomever their host pointed them at. The potential of the shinobi in front of him was substantial and that was the only reason Mitsuo hadn’t stricken him down where he stood, knowing that his Hokage would have been most angry to hear that he had been tracked by a mere child, even an extraordinary one such as this one. He was fast enough to kill the boy before he realised what had happened, himself being one of the two fastest shinobi in the village, both of them being faster than the Hokage himself. The speed at which they moved was considered to be the much stretched limit of human potential, and to most they would appear as a blur or as if they hadn’t even been there at all. He didn’t even think of doing so however, killing children, especially those of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, was not something that he was a fan of doing. He would do it if needed, but never for one second would enjoy it.

He watched curiously once more to see the boy back up, tossing the wooden sword to Mitsuo, who caught it easily and quickly realised why the boy had wanted to meet him, or at least one reason, Mitsuo’s skills with a blade being considerable. He chuckled softly, his left hand gripping the back of the pommel of the training sword and his right at the front, holding his left hand above his right and pointing the tip down to his opponent’s feet. He stood with his body turned so that his right shoulder was forward and the hilt of his blade was in line with his chest, right toe pointed forward and left leg back about a shoulder’s width apart. He heard the young man, for calling him a boy probably wasn’t fair as he probably wasn’t much younger than Mitsuo, say something about the ANBU being his sensei in the sword, and Mitsuo smiled once more, this Mure being serious in his intent and sparking Mitsuo’s interest. He waited for the Aburame to charge him before working out a quick counter to the move and executing his plan.

The counter was simple and was exactly what his positioning was made for. Once Mure got close enough to him with his blade, Mitsuo would simply snap the blade up, his right and left hands acting as a fulcrum and driving the point into his opponent’s belly/chest area. Once this action was performed, it was merely a simple movement to one direction or the other to stop his opponent’s attack, while simultaneously countering him. He did not drive the point home, using his superior speed to execute the move while sidestepping to the right slightly, then twisting his arms back so that he was in a hanging guard, his right hand letting go and his left hand holding onto the handle of his blade, stance not really changing much except for the positioning of his arms and blade. The flat edge of the blade would lay across his right forearm, the handle by his face and the tip pointing towards his own toes. This was a purely defensive position, though that was why he chose it. He didn’t want to hurt the Aburame clansman, instead hoping that by attacking him and expending his energy, he would learn a better way to fight.

“My style is quite different than most you will come across, young Aburame. Though I am a master and user of the katana, the fighting styles I employ are more geared towards fighting with a broadsword or bastard sword. The position I started from is called the fools guard, and is perfect for countering, the opponent often thinking it to be a weak stance when in fact the speed of the stance is the boon. The one I am in now is called a hanging guard. I will first teach you to defend, leading by example, and then will lay onto you as well, so that you may better learn to do so yourself.” His first style of fighting was a traditional (European) style of swordplay. He had excelled at adapting the defensive and offensive positions to his use of the katana. The second one he often used was one that he had worked on himself, deciding that he would show the Aburame the more defensive and traditional style first, and save the more advanced styles for later. He certainly hoped that the young man was getting something out of this, as Mitsuo had been meaning to get more practice with the sword in himself, and maybe teaching a student would help him with that.

Is this what it felt like when you decided to take me on, Master Hiroshi? To teach one so eager to learn, so green and so new? Someone who was wide eyed with excitement and love of the sword and who would cling onto your every word; that was exactly what this boy is like. He is a lot like I was back then.

“Also, your stance is atrocious. One leg in front of the other, knees bent slightly, feet shoulder length apart. It should feel comfortable and you will find that the bend at the knees will give you more spring for quicker and more powerful attacks.” He remembered Hiroshi, Sasori telling him the exact same thing when he had started fighting for the first time, his uncanny master having quite a way with the blade, and an enjoyment of torturing his students until they got it right.

(2458/3000 Kenjutsu B>A)

Mure was repelled back easily. As if he himself where just a training dummy. A gasp of air was released as he barely maintained the grip on his sword. Was it possible for the levels between them to be so great? He felt the impact spot on his chest with a tender rub as he used his feet to slide to a stop by bracing the toes. Still this was to be expected. The Master he had chosen would naturally be gifted in the art he was teaching. Still he listened closely. His stance was wrong for one and at the moment he was to observe the defending opponent. Defense had never been his strongest motive with a blade but he did understand the importance. If one could but block an attack directed at them then it usually left an opening to the opponent. This was a comfortable idea but more so blocking let him understand the opponents techniques before striking. Still he doubted that this was going to conclude in his favor. Even if he did still have a few tricks up his sleeve. Now whether or not these traditional defenses could keep up with his Chinese style. He would have to discover for himself. For now he reviewed what had happened. He had been struck with superior speed before his attack had gotten close enough to land. He was then deflected in the same movement and side stepped like a fool. He frowned as he tried to plan his next move.

Slowly he took in a deep breath to stop his hands from shaking. He had to remain calm. His eyes focused on his goal as he shifted his feet shoulder length apart and bent at the knee's. However this time he held the sword with one hand by the hilt over his head pointing the blade at his feet. The edge of the wooden sword pointed upward. With this stance it was a simple movement to defend an attack any where along his vitals. However he gripped the sword between his left hands fingers around the tip like he was pinching it. It was an awkward idea but he would move forward with it anyway. He stepped to the left and then charged forward keeping the blade between him and his opponent to prepare any counter attacks eyeing the range of his opponents reach and watching his shoulders. Once he entered the range and the opponent moved he would instead of blocking spin to the left as rapidly as he could while moving in a forward motion. His pivot meant to strike at the ribs. But this was only half of it. He pulled with his sword hand creating tension as he held it with his hand pinching the tip. This would double the force as he released it with his teeth gritted at his opponents ribs hoping for some sort of result.

[1819/1800 Bukijutsu training D-C complete]