The heat and glow of the forge had caused a permanent glow on the older man’s face but he didn’t care, he had seen much worse than that. His expression was stoic, one of intense concentration as he made his way towards where he knew that Sarutobi Mitsuo would be, in the heart of Konohagakure no Kato. As he travelled his mid length black hair, which was lined with streaks of grey from his natural aging process, was blowing in the wind and the sweat was running down his face, from his brow down past the scar on the bridge of his nose and into his beard. His face was cracked and weathered with age, each wrinkle and scar speaking of his years of experience and hardship. This man was Hiroshi, Sasori, also known as the Sword Saint, or Kensai. He had seen more battles than he liked to remember and had killed more men than most had ever met in their lives. He had experienced the fall of the Iron Country first hand and had fought with Lord Rikimaru after the fact, parting ways with the order of the Samurai immediately after. None of these reasons were why he travelled to the Village Hidden in the Leaves, in the heart of the Land of Fire, on this day.

Sasori had received word by carrier hawk that the time he was waiting for had come. His student, Sarutobi, Mitsuo, had inherited Seijin no Ken, the Sword of the Saint, from his new sensei, and the new Hokage, Uzumaki, Takeshi, as Sasori had asked him to do. Once the sword was in Mitsuo’s possession a letter was sent to Sasori explaining the situation and he had reacted immediately. He had been waiting for a long time for the time when he would return to Konohagakure no Kato and take Mitsuo away to complete the next stage of his training, and now it was finally the right time. As the weathered old samurai made his way across the lands the plates of his armour cracked and his fingers instinctively brushed against the hilts of his twin Katana, his massive claymore strapped to his back. He was a sight to behold to say the least as he walked with determination through the gates of Konoha, assuming that the villages local ANBU Black Ops had probably taken notice of him. Let them notice, he thought to himself as he made his way towards the Sarutobi compound that he knew oh to well to meet his student, and further his training in the way of the blade.

(423)

Everything was so dark around him, though he had no idea why. The rooms seemed to be closing in as well giving the young boy a claustrophobic feeling as he tried to run towards what he thought was the entrance. The walls continue to close in on him as he makes his way through the “entrance” of the hallway, which turns out to lead into another pitch black area. Towards the further end of the darkness out in front of him he can hear a scream. He ran towards the source of the screaming and a single ray of light shone down onto a beautiful woman with long raven hair and emerald green eyes, which were glazing over as he looked into them. The rosy colour of her cheeks and her lips and the tattoo on her left shoulder made her identity absolutely unmistakable to him. This was his mother, this was Sarutobi, Yoshino. He could see the sword wound through her chest, her hands clutching it as she collapsed onto the ground. He rushed to catch her, laying her down and holding her in his arms as she looked into his eyes and smiled softly, wiping the tear from his cheek, her blood now staining it instead before her hand dropped to the ground lifeless. He looked down at her and fought back tears but as soon as he had closed and opened his eyes again her body had turned to ash and fluttered away in the wind. That was when he heard another sound.

NII-SAN. He could hear it as clear as a bell, and he knew exactly who it was. He ran towards the source of the noise once again, knowing that he would find his brother there. Sarutobi Munuto stood in front of him, his sword drawn and at the ready. Mitsuo could see that there was someone else behind him and he knew that after what he had just seen, this would inevitably be the death that had haunted his nightmares and his every thought for the past several years. He jumped to tackle his brother out of the way, barrelling into the person behind him and knocking him to the ground. He recoiled when he realized that the person he had just barrelled over was his younger self. He was standing back to back with him and hadn’t realised that he had pushed the tanto that his younger self was holding through his brother’s back, causing both of them to scream and his brother to collapse on the ground. He watched in horror as his younger self cried intensely, clutching his brother tight in his arms as the realization that his own weapon had impaled his brother had set in. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, seeing his brother die in front of his very eyes once again and not able to tear his tearstained eyes away as he watched himself bawl his eyes out. This pain was so intense that he almost couldn’t believe it. He then watched his younger self spew forth a thick cloud of ash around the two of them and ignite it, causing Mitsuo himself to yell out “NO” as his younger self and his brother were both incinerated in one of his trademark jutsus. They turned to ash in front of his very eyes and fluttered away in the wind before the darkness lifted.

He realised that he was standing in Konohagakure no Kato, dressed head to toe in his ANBU Captain’s gear. He could hear panicked screams and looked around to see if he could find the source. It wasn’t hard to spot the green haired shinobi who was firing off crystal arrows into the crowd. He could see some of his friends rushing to the fore, Senju Sousetsu and Owydelu, Takeshi-sensei, the young sannin who had saved him, Aizu Strafe, and another face in the crowd that he noticed was his father, who was running to save a woman and her children. His father was a brave man, and Mitsuo knew exactly what was coming, as he had been told this story before. He watched above as the fourteenth Hokage, Uchiha Tatsumaru made his uncouth entrance, glowing hot and naked. He watched as the man exploded, taking out a good half of the village, including the building his father had just entered. Mitsuo ran towards his father, shouting for him to get out but he was sure it was too late. He made his way through the door and saw that a beam had collapsed onto him and he had been impaled by several splinters of wood.

“FATHER!” His father turned his head so he could look towards his son, smiling softly before his eyes turned sad and began to glaze over.

“You weren’t strong enough, little Mitsu. You need to be stronger to…to save the ones you love…to save Takeshi…to save Ukiyo…to save…Oshiki …” His father spat up blood and then the blaze from the explosion picked up, igniting him in front of Mitsuo’s eyes once more. He couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed, seeing the deaths of all three of his family members, and he realized that he, himself, was turning to ash and fluttering away. He began to scream before…


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He awoke in a cold sweat.

Mitsuo wiped his forehead and shook his head, looking towards the mountain of paperwork that had fallen off of his desk and onto the floor. He had the dream again, the one he had been having every night since the death of his father, and it still bothered him as much today as it had the first time he ever had it. He went into his kitchen and boiled some water on the sink in a kettle, shaking his head and putting some tea leaves into the bottom of a cup to calm himself down. Since he had quit smoking he had noticed he had been stressed out more easily and the only thing that truly calmed him down, besides training, was tea. He was waiting for the sound of the kettle to boil when he heard a knock at his door. He shook his head and pulled the kettle off of the stove, not wanting to start a fire in his compound again, and made his way towards the door, opening it and being completely surprised by the person who stood there…

(1068/1500 Buki/Swordsmanship)

Sasori walked down the busy streets of Konohagakure no Kato towards the familiar building and smiled, the Sarutobi compound now within his sights. He had passed several villagers on his way, most whom looked up at him in awe, seemingly surprised that this impressive stranger was making his way down the streets. He only recognised a few people and when he did he waved at them, smiling and nodding in acknowledgement at the ones who returned the wave. He hadn’t been to the village in a long time and it was nice to wander the streets once more. The sun above him was baking him in his armour but he didn’t seem to be overly bothered by it, instead simply allowing sweat to run down his face, his soaked hair beginning to fall in front of his eyes. When this would happen he would shake his head and droplets of sweat would fly through the air in the direction that he had shook, water still being trapped in the deep crevices of his face that he had developed over the years. He blinked some more sweat out of his eyes and walked up to the door, his weathered hands wrapping their knuckles on the wooden doors in front of him.

He didn’t have to wait for long before the door was opened and before him stood a man that he almost didn’t recognize. The last time he had seen this young man he had been around age thirteen and was a lot less impressive than he looked now. He smiled as he recalled the young man’s shaggy long hair that fell over his eyes, which sported a pair of rounded glasses. He had been so small before too and was never a very impressively built boy. Now he was much more muscular and he had grown to be around average height. He had pulled his long black hair back into a ponytail to avoid it falling in front of his strong and handsome face, the glasses he wore being much smaller and, upon a quick inspection, not real. He could tell when he looked into the young man’s eyes that one of them didn’t belong, imagining that this was the result of him losing one of his own eyes and, more than likely, inheriting someone elses Doujutsu, or so he assumed. It wasn’t difficult for him to spot the slight difference in his apprentice’s eyes, one being a slightly paler green than the other one, not noticeable enough for someone who didn’t know him well enough to notice. The eye was quite beautiful, and Sasori was curious as to what it did. His apprentice was not wearing a shirt and had simple pants on, his muscular upper torso catching the sunlight well. Sasori knew that he had been training hard as this was the body of one who took his training very seriously.

“Sarutobi Mitsuo,” He started, not waiting for his student to speak, assuming anything he had to say wouldn’t be overly meaningful at this moment. “Years ago I left your side and promised you that one day I would be back to finish your training. You now wield the Seijin no Ken, the sword that marks you as ready to come with me to the Iron Country. It is time Mitsuo, time for me to teach you once more. Time for you to complete the training that we had started all those years ago.” With that he stood in the doorway and waited for his apprentice to respond. He would enter the house if offered, but he would tell Mitsuo that they could not stay and would have to leave immediately as this training was of the upmost importance.

(621)

Five Years Earlier

Mitsuo smiled as his father led him into the courtyard of the Sarutobi Compound. He didn’t have a whole lot to smile about these days but one thing he really enjoyed was his training. His father wouldn’t let him use a real sword yet but he was alright using the wooden one that he had been given by his father a few years prior when he had given his brother his staff. He had come out to the courtyard every day since then and had trained as hard as he could, learning what little he had with little to no help from outside sources. He knew that the style he was using wasn’t really how someone would wield a Katana but he had come to feel quite comfortable with it, point towards his elbow, blunt side resting against his forearm and blade pointing out. He felt comfortable with the reverse grip and had learned to do it fairly effectively against the training dummy and while sparring with his brother. He knew this wouldn’t be enough though and that one day he would need to properly learn how to wield a Katana. He didn’t realise that he would be learning how to do it sooner than he had ever thought.

He knew that his father had said he heard a knock at the door and he would be back shortly so naturally Mitsuo was curious as to who it was. He had his blade in its normal reversed grip and ran towards the training dummy, flicking his wrist out and quickly connecting with the side of its head before spinning the blade and bringing it back again to wrap it where its hamstrings would be. As he went along he continued to think of the things his father had taught him. He thought about his father being disappointed when he had realised that Mitsuo wasn’t naturally a Katon wielder and that his natural affinity was towards Fuuton. He had done all he could to teach his son to use the Katon element but when he eventually realised that it was unlikely that Mitsuo would pick it up at this stage he had decided to teach him swordplay instead, as fuuton and swordplay seemed to go hand in hand. Mitsuo had taken to using the blade quickly, enjoying the feel of it in his hands. When his father came back through the doors Mitsuo found it difficult to believe what he was seeing.

Standing in front of the young Sarutobi was a man who was at least six feet tall. He was dressed in the most beautiful armour Mitsuo had ever seen. He could tell instantly that this man was one of the legendary Samurai that he had heard tails of. They were the ones his father had referred to when he had told Mitsuo that Fuuton and Kenjutsu complimented one another so perfectly. He looked to the man’s hip and noticed he carried not just one Katana, but two and on the other side a small tanto was visible on his belt. He also had a massive claymore strapped to his back, which Mitsuo thought was curious but decided he wouldn’t ask. This man was clearly a sword master and Mitsuo was just a child, not wanting to insult the man on their first meeting. His father smiled when he introduced Mitsuo to the man in front of him, with the long black ponytail and the scar across his face. He had a beard on his chin, one that Mitsuo found most attractive and had decided that one day he would try to grow.

Present Day

His first meeting with the man who would become his master was one of the most memorable moments of his entire life. He would never forget the day that his father had told him that Hiroshi Sasori had agreed to train him in the ways of Kenjutsu. His life had really turned a corner on that day for the better, bringing him back from the brink of depression with the deaths of his mother and brother, the driving forces in his life, and making it so that he had something to live for again. He had always striven to rise above all of the hardships of life and with the help of Master Hiroshi he had been able to do that. He was extremely happy but at the same time very surprised to see that the man was now standing at the step of his compound, telling him that he needed to leave right away to complete his training. He looked the weathered old man up and down to see if there was any hint of sarcasm or joking to be found but as usual he showed no emotion on his face, just staring blankly and determinedly at Mitsuo. Mitsuo sighed and invited the ex-samurai into his house, offering him tea, which his master declined while telling him that they had no time for pleasantries and that he needed to get ready right away.

Mitsuo packed the essentials that he would need, including warm clothing as he knew he was going to be going to a land of ice and snow, and armoured himself up, not wanting to take any chances. As he carefully strapped on his bracers and gauntlets he looked into the mirror and sighed once more. He had really grown up over the past several years in Master Hiroshi’s absence. He had gone through so much and had changed so much that he was barely even the same person anymore. He pulled on his white travelling cloak, sliding his mask into his pack as somewhat of an afterthought for in the event that he may actually need it at some point during his trip, and went back out to meet Hiroshi, Sasori, who was still waiting for him in the doorway. He quickly drank his cup of tea and shook his head, smiling softly and pulling on his boots as he moved past Master Hiroshi and out the door of the Sarutobi compound.

“Well then, Master Hiroshi. I have never been to the Iron Country before, and certainly do not know the way. Therefore I leave getting us there in your more than capable hands. Lead the way, sensei.” He smiled as they began to run towards what Mitsuo assumed was the direction of the Three Mountains, the place where his master would take him to forge his new sword, the weapon that would help him to complete his training.

(1500/1500 Bukijutsu (Swordsmanship learned)
Bukujutsu B>A carried over from here. 3000/3000 complete. A>S 117/4000)

The man stood in the doorway as he waited for Mitsuo to get his equipment ready for travel. Taking in the sounds and smells of Konohagakure for what would probably be the last time. He had become accustomed to the changes of weather since his time of travel. There was always a slight adjusted that he would have to make, though it didn’t bother him much. He leaned against the doorway with his arms folded across his armor. Watching the occasional person walk by, some would wave, others wouldn’t. For the ones that waved, the man waved back with little thought about it. After only a few minutes of waiting, Sasori could hear movement from inside the house.  It didn’t take long for Mitsuo to get geared up, walking out of the doorway with most of what he wore hidden behind the white cloak over his body. After a small statement about Sasori leading the way, they took off in a jog, or at least what they considered a jog. To an average person it would look like a full on sprint, if not faster than that. Sasori wasn’t hindered from the weight of his armor or weapons at all, he had grown used to the increased weight years ago. He outpaced Mitsuo within a few strides to put him a few feet in front so he could lead the way. Dodging the people who were walking, they would find themselves at the front gates in a matter of minutes, running through them without worry of being stopped.

Now out of village, they could run at a faster rate without worry. They had to cover a lot of ground, but he wasn’t worried about Mitsuo having trouble keeping up with him. His weapons were on his armor tight to limit the way they moved around. This made it easier for him to move without worry of something falling off. Sweat fell from his body with each step he took, though he was far from exhaustion. He could run like this for the rest of the day if need be, his body was more than prepared for something of that nature anyway. The trees seemed to zoom past him, though he could feel eyes on him. He knew the ANBU had to be chasing him and Mitsuo, he could feel their presence ever since the moment he stepped over the border.  This didn’t bother him because he knew that he could kill them, but he also knew that the Hokage would have told the ANBU of his arrival beforehand. Even at that, he was ready to leave this place. He was determined to finish Mitsuo’s training, he wanted to see him grow strong.

(459)