The Land of Water.

Misty, cool, deserted. It reminded Gikimaru somewhat of his home in the Land of Frost, of his peaceful life with the loving family he had, of the simple life of merely playing around in the frozen tundra, before the fated avalanche had taken all that away and left him with but the knowledge of his heritage, the knowledge of his belonging and connection to the Fantomusodo clan.

The misty air reminded him of how the snow would often dissolve into vapour and obscure his vision when he was back home. He used to always use this mist to play hide-and-seek with the animals. Now, it was a game of hide-and-seek with other ninja. The end result wouldn't be rolling around on the snow with a polar bear licking his face; the end result would be one of them restrained or dead, and given his inexperience in the profession, he was sure he would be the one with a kunai to the heart, dying in an ever growing pool of his blood, with a kunai lodged deeply into his heart.

The cool atmosphere that accompanied the Land of Water's infamous ever-present mist reminded him of the cool daytime temperatures of the Land of Frost, which always descended into a rigid, skin-gnawing cold in the dead of the night. He remembered how he would curl up under layers of blankets while wearing the jacket that he still kept to this day, curled up into a ball trying to minimise surface area and maintain his body heat. Right now, all the heat he wanted to feel was the warmth of his parents' love, the two people in his life who had disappeared without a trace following the avalanche.

The deserted surroundings were both a blessing and a curse to the young Suzuki. On one side, the lack of living creatures meant that there were little chances he would be attacked, as most of the people were focused more heavily in the areas directly surrounding Kirigakure. Those of the Seven Bells clan were busy laying siege to the city of Kirigakure in an attempt to wrest power from the reigning Mizukage, while the ninja of the village and its allies were busy trying to push the invading force out of the city's walls and back into the caves of the savages. He was sure there were at least a dozen wandering ninja like himself trying to make a name for themselves or take advantage of the situation.

The curse was that it made Gikimaru think that there would be someone hiding in the shadows, behind every corner, waiting to pounce out at him like a starving tiger to its deer prey. His paranoia refused to let him believe there was no one in the vicinity, and his less than adept sensory skills did little to calm his nerves. Gikimaru's want for human contact also had a small part to play in his dislike of the lack of people in the vicinity, though he supposed that was a good thing – giving into his desire at a time like this, even for the slightest of human contact, would be detrimental to his goal and only distractions. Or, at least his thirteen-year-old mind told him.

Gikimaru himself was located quite a distance from the aforementioned confrontations. He found himself in one of the many islands surrounding the mainland, currently in a small village that had been relatively safe from the conflict. The only battle the village had seen and fought off came from the group of bandits that had become increasingly active with the lack of ninja protecting the village, of course pulled back to aid their home village against the looming threat.

He had come here thinking of whether he should aid the invaders, or the Kiri ninja themselves. Both sides would give him optimal advantages with their respective disadvantages, but what he needed now was information. He needed to know if there was anything that had happened in or around the Land of Frost, as all the places he had visited so far pointed to the fact that he had been hallucinating the whole thing, that there had been no avalanche or large mountain. Then again, he was located in quite a remote area, so even a mountain of that size would have been difficult to spot.

Nevertheless, his quest for information continued, so he went into the closest ramen shop, one that was filled to the brim. While he wasn't a particular fan of ramen, what he wanted and needed was information, and the best place to get information was a place filled to the brim with people whose lips were unsealed, a place where people banter with their close ones or their acquaintances, free to spill any and all secrets with just a small nudge or push in the right direction. It was for this very reason that Gikimaru pulled up a stool at the counter, located at the centre of the small ramen joint, and ordered a miso ramen, ears perked for anything interesting.

Word Count: 859

Training [Wind Release: Air Bullets] 859/900