On one of the islands of the village hidden in the mist an old bridge overgrown with weeds and chipped away railings seems to connect one island to the main island. The bridge itself seems to disappear into the mist but if one looks they can see the dark shadow of what once was the manor of the late mizukage Osada Sero. Most people just considered it abandoned. And not many wanted to venture across the bridge into the mist. It seemed to pulse almost. As if it were alive. It seemed to be like a hungry animal waiting to consume anything foolish enough to venture into it. But some knew a stranger truth. A select few knew that the previous Mizukage had a son. And the Manor itself, while in poor condition, did indeed house an occupant. The young boy sat on top of the dark manor his silver gaze piercing into the mist. He was studying it. His eyes slowly surveying it as if some how those eyes void of feeling behind them could some how pierce through the thick grey mist. But what was truly alarming is anyone who crossed that bridge would feel his presence. A cold sensation like breath on the back of the neck. Like something was there and it was waiting. It was an aura he had inherited from his father. And it was what gave the manor the rumor of being haunted.

Sero stood slowly and crossed his arms. His head tilting as he calculated once again good strategic point of which to defend himself. A practice of his that he did to keep his plans sharp. The bridge itself was sturdy enough so he couldn't destroy it to keep the enemy from getting easy reinforcements. But the front yard was an overgrown  group of hedges that seemed to cling to what statues still stood. More then one statue laid in crumbled ruins on the ground. A few of the windows had holes in them but Sero had no feeling. He never felt the cold. Aside from that he stood there with grey pants and a grey shirt. The shirt was one of the ones with the long wide sleeves that connected together. Easy enough to hide his hands. A hood covered his head and gloves his hands. A Kirigakure headband around his neck marked him as one of the Mists shinobi. Still what was mostly noticeable about him was his weaponry. Around each Thigh was a group of five kunai strapped in place. Around each of his upper arms was 5 shuriken fitted into holding slots. Up each sleeve he hid 3 senbon. On his right hip he had a sheathed rapier and on his left hip a folded windmill shuriken.  Tucked into his hood between his shoulder blades was one more hidden Kunai. Weapons for any occasion. For a total of eleven kunai, ten shuriken , six senbon, A rapier and a windmill shuriken.

Perception training.
E ~> E-1, 75/75  
E-1 ~> E-2, 150/150
E-2 ~> E-3, 225/225
E-3 ~> D,  43/300

Kusono sat at one of the sake dive bars that operated around the market district of Kirigakure. Though Kusono was not of legal age, his looks and his connection with a few of the bouncers make the place easily accessible to the young Kaguya. The atmosphere of the place left something to be desired. The thick smoke from the occupants cigarettes hovered in the air and around his nostrils, taking in the unmistakable scent of tobacco with each breath of air. The bar was of medium size, a squared room mainly colored a light red with bright lights. Tables and chairs littered the space, housing the various patrons. Some drunken washout ninja. Others promising groups out for a good time. Booths where set up by the western wall for those that wanted to sit down and have a bite to eat. Opposite to that was the bar, Kusono's favorite place to sit at. It consisted of a black marble counter which circled around the bartender and his hoard of alcohol neatly aligned on glass shelves.

Kusono sat on a stool in his usual garb, a long sleeved black and red kimono which cut off inches before his wrists. His bottoms consisted of typical black pants and ninja shoes. Kusono swept back his silver hair which was neatly held together with a pony tail. He periodically took sips from his cup of sake. It wasn't a strong alcohol, just something enough to give him a slight buzz, something to keep things interesting. "So what's the news today, Fugin?" Kusono asked the short, stubby bartender. Fugin was the regular bar tender which waited on Kusono. An overweight, stubby tanned skin man of forty-five years of age.
"Not much Kusono. Well, nothing i haven't told you already." came the monotone, grump voice of Fugin. "Come on old man, i know your ass has heard some stories. Lay em' on me." Kusono persisted. Fugin gave a deep sigh and grabbed a glass from the sink to clean. "Fine, a few fisherman yesterday where gabbing about a house on one of the surrounding islands. It was the former Mizukage's mansion and supposedly haunted by his ghost. Buncha bullshit if you ask me." "Good thing i didn't ask you," Kusono said with a grin. "I think i'll go ahead and take a look at the ghost of the Mizukage. Thanks for the drink, Fugin." Kusono said while placing some ryo on the table and grabbed his black traveling coat and heading out of the door. "Whatever" the grumpy bartender retorted. Kusono pushed passed the few drunks that stood in his way and was headed towards the village gated. The surrounding island that the mansion was on could have been walked to in an hour or so. Or maybe he would just take a small boat, he definitely had the ryo to cover it.

Arriving at the village port took him all of twenty minutes. He passed by the normal bystanders of the market and residential districts. Small shop owners tried to push their wears on passer-bys. Familys and lone shoppers placed cans into their bags. Groups chatted and gossiped and the usual goings-on of the village remained the same. The port was another matter. Stocked to the brim with boats of all shapes and sizes. Fisherman scurried about, carrying their aquatic bounty to the local shops in town. Kusono waded through the crowd and found a small dock house which housed several small two person boats tied to the peir surrounding the house. It was a renting station. Kusono opened the door and greeted a lanky middle-aged woman in a pin kimono running the desk. Kusono slapped a few ryo on the table to cover the cost of a boat and exited the shop, untying the rope that bound the boat to the harbor.

The boat in question, was simply a small rowboat, built to hold a maximum of four passengers. It looked to be eight feet long and sported a set of paddles for one person to paddle the boat while the others sat on the three other planks serving as seats. Taking the two wooden paddles in his hand, Kusono trust them into the ocean and departed for the surrounding island, with a ominous fog rolling in over the horizon.

The salty ocean air filled his nose with a pleasant scent. He had pulled the rowboat up on the sandy beach and began his trek inward to land. The sand met the dirt and grass of the island mere feet from where his boat was resting. The Fog had thickened slightly from when he was back in the village harbor, cutting his field of view in half. But, that wasn't an issue. A small dirt path lead from the beach to the grass and into the abyss of the fog, which Kusono followed clad in a black traveling cloak. The battered path eventually leads to a small, sturdy, wooden bridge. Beyond that laid the fabled house, still half cloak in the blinding fog. It's windows where broken in many places, some sported simple cracks in the glass work. Others where utterly destroyed. The flora of the mansion was in even worse disarray. Vines creeped up the sides and front of the house, nature softly embraced the house; evidence of the house's vacant owners and caretakers. The statues, those which weren't in crumpled heaps, where too embraced by the vines.

The entire place was indeed odd. Odd enough for any person to make up the stories which usually went with it's foreboding appearance. The atmosphere of the place was odd to say the least. It seemed to get colder as Kusono approached the house. Kusono gave a quick look around, it felt like eyes where boring into him. Though those where definitely his nerves, or where they?

WC:979
Available: 229

Sero was alone as usual it seemed. Years of training and rationing out supplies. It had been some time since he ventured out. He had been a genius since he could talk. Where others had bonding time with family and learning what it meant to care for another he had his fathers library. Reading had been easier for him to learn then talking and eventually he became immersed in the library. Reading up on tactics and human anatomy were his hobbies. He took the test at the academy at the age of five and passed it. Allowed to have a head band but other then that he was too young to be trusted with anything serious. All he had been assigned was a couple of D rank meaningless missions. Even with the small armory his father had left behind no one wanted to trust a five year old with anything. Even after one of the sannin witnessed him hospitalize the other Osada....Wolfgang was his name, A giant of a man. No one took him seriously. So he retreated to more training of both the mind and body. His ability not to feel anything coming in handy as he worked his body to exhaustion over and over again. His birthdays were not celebrations but marks on a calender like a count down. A cold weapon waiting to be refined enough for use. But now he sat on the roof. Unsure on if he should involve himself in any of the going on's the other side of that rickety bridge. Not that it had avoided him. A couple of Bells spies had snuck onto the island. Through pain and interrogation he got the information he needed. Their bodies were weighed down by stones in the water on either side of the bridge. Easier then digging a hole.

However he had not seen anyone since then. The noises of battle echoing in the mist had subsided. The smell of death and blood on the air faded. Truly it was less then interesting. More then once he had considered leaving the island. But he didn't understand society. People and their emotional attachments to things and others. Or emotions at all. They were just something he never had a use for. Nor did he think it was a good trait to have. Emotions led to crimes of passion. With out passion people could see the virtue of blank calculations and eventually no one would pose a danger to the masses due to greed or envy. The circle of wrath would stop and gluttony would become a thing of the past. No longer would lust control the senses or slothfulness dull the body. And no one's pride would get in the way of the well being of the masses. All one needed was cold calculations. Not sensations. Just a waste of energy. Still this was the least of his focuses. After all below him his silver eyes detected something dark emerging through the mist on the bridge. So a wanderer came to call on the house of Sero.

As the man approached the house Sero stepped off the edge of the roof. The only sound the soft fluttering of his grey cloak as he seemed to sink into the mist. It was as if he molded into it. The grey clothing designed to be the same color as the mist. His feet touched down on the ground below as he weakened the impact by landing and lowering quickly into a crouch. Rapidly lessening the impact on his legs. Before he moved through the mist. The dark cloak standing out against the mist barely visible of the intruder. He didn't see anything marking the man from any village. Or who he might be. He assumed it was a man due to the height and lack of breasts though he figured it could just be a very flat chested female. Still Sero moved as silently and as quickly as he could to survey the situation. Hostile or not was yet to be determined. Still the man had moved up through the garden towards the manor now. The dark manor rising through the mist like some sort of beast darkening its surroundings. It was time now for Sero to interact in a way. To study what this man was up to if it be a man at all. Luckily for him the acoustics of the area had a bit of an echo to the slightest of noises. Sero moved through the mist quietly moving to be behind the man. His tiny frame and mist colored clothing making him blend in with the mist as if it was a part of him. Or even a living thing trying to hold him. As he spoke it was a cold voice void of emotion. The echoes like whispers from all around. Sero being careful to dart left or right depending on how the individual turned in case directly looking at him might reveal him.

"Why do you intrude here?"
You intrude here
intrude here
here.


The echo was like crazed whispers. As if the Mist itself was speaking. Sero's cold aura would make it feel like some one was breathing just down the back of his neck. The feeling one gets in a dark room. When they are afraid of the dark and believe they are not alone. When they imaging growls in the night and hide in their covers. A sense of danger with no mask to hide it. This island was his territory. And he was not about to let another intrude with out an explanation. Years of seclusion had left him rather impolite and inhospitable as a host. But a child who had grown up virtually alone on such an eerie island becomes allies with the mist that hides him. The darkness that cloaks him but a tool to be held onto. Still this was all just caution. He had yet to draw a weapon. If this was another person come to loot they would likely run believing in spirits. But if it turned out to be the enemy. He would descend on them like the mist itself was out for blood. In the mean time though. He slide into cover behind on of the statues. Peeking around it to watch the intruder. Keen on finding out who it was.

Perception training.
E3-D 300/300
Speed training
E-E1 75/75
E1-E2 150/150
E2-E3 225/225
E3-D 300/300
Reaction time
E-E1 55/75

The vast abyss of the mist did not falter. The mansion seemed to sway in and out of the shadows of the fog like a shifting monster.But, Kusono was not one to believe in monsters. He even came here to see the 'ghost of the Mizukage' for himself. Though, it was most likely a wanderer in the mansion or a vagabond. After all, it looked as thought the house was entered more than a couple times. Broken windows, a weathered door, and even unseen weak walls could all be entry ways to the old manor. More then likely Kusono would employ those same entry ways should he feel the need to enter.

Taking a hesitant step up the stairs of the mansion he heard a voice, cold and void of emotion. "Why do you intrude here?" It echoed through the fog. Kusono himself could barely see a full six feet in front of him, let alone pinpoint a person in the shifting mist. He gave a quick look in back of himself and over both shoulders. Trying to see any shape among the mist. The statues behind him almost made him believe he had found someone.Yet his rational mind reminded him it was no threat. Needless to say. The stranger had the upper hand as of now. He could be anywhere in the fog, possibly just out of his sight range. It was better to be safe than sorry. Kusono hardened a layer of bone under the epidermis layer of his skin. It would block any projectile that would be thrown from the fog. "Well, i'd come from Kirigakure hearing this was the place to find the 'ghost of the Mizukage'. Thought I would see for myself what frightened the townspeople so bad about this place." Kusono said lowering his hood revealing his long silver hair and forehead protector which hung loosely around his neck."I am Kusono of the branch family of the Kirigakure Kaguya clan. So tell me stranger, are you a friend or a foe?"

Should the stranger reveal himself, Kusono would lower his guard slightly and continue their conversation. But should anything come out of the mist, Kusono would not hold back should it become hostile.

WC:375+4=279

135/150:

For a moment Sero hesitated. His ears listening to the man. A member of the Kaguya clan. He had read a history book on them once. A clan dating back to the very beginning of shinobi. Truly a fearsome lineage. Still the man had no killers aura. Something shifted in the mist but ever so subtly. Still Sero contemplated this more. If he revealed himself and it went badly he would need to act quickly. He weighed his options in silence until it felt it might drag on forever. Nothing but the slowly flowing mist moved. Nearly a minute dragged on in silence but a minute can seem like forever with the situation so tense. Still after a few moments Sero decided he would hear the intruder out. After all if it did turn out to be hostile like those before the man then he could join them in the water. One more body to feed the fish. It certainly was a good thing that Sero wasn't much for water sports. Still it did attract plenty of fish to eat and keep him sustained with nutrients. He didn't mind that by eating the thing eating the dead he was in some way eating them too.

Still after a minute passed Sero stepped out from behind the statue. For a moment the slow steps echoed as he was no longer being silent. His boots scraping along the overgrown stone. As he approached the mist seemed to slowly peel away from him like something holding to him. Some sort of parasite that seemed to cling and hold to him. As soon as Sero made eye contact with his cold grey eyes it was clear where that aura of a predator was coming from. Those eyes seemed to freeze the soul and at the same time held no sense of life in their depths. It was like looking into the eyes of the dead. And yet he walked. While he was shorter the boy was the spitting image of his father. Except for one point. A breeze blew back part of the grey cloak to reveal over a dozen weapons from head to foot all arranged for easy access on him. The boy was a walking arsenal. Still he made no move to grab any of them. Though he stopped just at the edge of vision so they could see each other clearly. Before he spoke. His cold voice held no emotion but just like ice down the back it sent shivers down the spines of most.

"There are no spirits here. Not of the dead or of the willing. This is a place of death to those who would desecrate my fathers memory. If you intend to do so I suggest you leave before going any further. If not I intend no harm to you in my house."

Reaction time
E-E1 75/75
E1-E2 150/150
E2-E3 225/225
E3-D 31/300

Time drug on as the stranger did not answer him. Ever second seemed like a minutes, every minute like an hour. Being in the middle of the fog gave Kusono a sense of insecurity. The stranger could see him but he could not see the stranger. He half expected for a kunai of other weapon to be lobbed at him from the shifting mist. Though nothing of the sort occurred in those moments. Kusono himself was not used to being in such a vulnerable spot, quite the opposite in fact. Kusono was usually the one to catch people off guard and keep them in a vulnerable position. This happened in and out of combat as well. Conversations where usually controlled by the Kaguya using wit and humor to focus the matter more in Kusono's favor. The same with combat. The Kaguya where renowned taijutsu experts even before they used their Dead Bone Pulse Kekkie Genkai.

Kusono witnessed this first hand before the 'election' of the current clan head. A battle for position inside the clan was common, clan heads fought off would be title claimers, advisers vied for seats, the usual politics of any clan; though more animalistic then other such clans. There was a bout for an advisers' position, a mid level position in the clan, but it had its perks. The two went at it like wolves. Tearing at each other at the old Kaguya clan temple grounds. His father had taken him to see the bout as a lesson to never back down and always uphold the Kaguya's warrior spirit. The match lasted for a few hours, both equally matched until one made a crucial mistake. The challenged batted away a fist meant to break his nose, which put the adviser off balance. The challenger speared the adviser using a bone dagger in the midsection. Though the wound was deep, the battle continued to rage on, until the adviser finally sucomed to his wounds and the match went to the challenger.

Heavy boot steps broke Kusono's day dreaming. The thudding coming from behind him. From behind a statue came the stranger, clad in all grey, even his eyes almost melted into the mist behind him. The child couldn't have been older than twelve. A small wind picked up, shuffling the strangers cloak and revealing an assortment of edged weapons. The proverb 'don't judge a book by it's cover' could never be more true then at this very moment. Kusono gave a few steps in his direction to close the gap into normal conversing distance. Then the stranger spoke, "There are no spirits here. Not of the dead or of the willing. This is a place of death to those who would desecrate my fathers memory. If you intend to do so I suggest you leave before going any further. If not I intend no harm to you in my house." Well, that solved the mystery of the ghost of the Mizukage. It turned out to be his son. "Seeing as i'm not the desecrating type, it's good to know no harm will come to me. I didn't know the late Mizukage had a son, why are you out here instead of in the village?" It was odd to say the least. Why was the child out here alone? Did he have a care taker skulking in the shadow? Only time would tell.

WC: 567

Sero stopped moving as the man approached him. In his mind he began to calculate. Three steps to his left was cover in case of any jutsu. Two strides to his right was a window. Not broken yet but that would hardly slow him. If need be he could go through it and move any fights into the house. A terrain he believed only he knew. That should give him the advantage in the event he needed to escape. Then his mind switched to offensive options. Too close for the windmill shuriken to be unfolded in time. Only a seventy five percent chance that at such a distance the man could stop him from drawing his rapier. One of his Kunai would have to suffice. Alternative options included the Senbon hidden up his sleeve. Even the head band around his neck could be used as extra protection against for his vitals. All this passed through his mind in the time it took the man to talk. Still Sero crossed his arms. His hands becoming hidden behind his sleeves as his cold grey eyes watched the man. Talkative was usually a nervous click he noted many people had. This one though reminded him of a character in one of his books. A trickster who used words to manipulate bad situations. He had not really ever been fond of that character.

Still the words seemed to question the legitimacy of Sero Osada having a child. Though it may have just been an admission of ignorance he didn't expect one to doubt him. One brow raised quietly at the thought. Did the other have reason to doubt it? What kind of man had his father been? Records had a tendency to exaggerate a thing or two but really his fathers career had been short. Still Sero spoke with a slightly exhausted tone. As if the very question had the most obvious of answers. Unaware that his way of thinking was ignorant of most human ideals and emotions.

"A village has no room for a death bringer. What few ventures I have made into the village have ended in blood. It is better for others if a weapon in training remain within the training grounds. Less I send yet another to the urgent care section found in the hospital."

With that he clutched a few Senbon tightly. But was careful not to flex or flinch to much. Leaving no hint he had clutched weapons hidden within his sleeves with his hands. A moment passed before he moved. Slow and deliberate steps carried him passed the Kaguya. A small power move letting the man behind him. However at the slightest hint of hostility he was prepared to shove Senbon through both jugulars and both eyes in one move. If the man made no move to do such Sero would approach the door. Only once he was there would he release his hold on his weapons. The killing intent fading from the air before Sero raised one pale hand and pushed on the double doors. He didn't really ever use them but today he had a guest. The doors creaked open slowly with a bit of dust and rust falling in a cloud. Before finally Sero stepped inside and left it open for the other. The inside was dark. No lights were on so only the faint light from outside cast an eerie half light through out it all. Sero moved across the grand hall to the library. The door on the library looked as if it had been melted almost to the hinges. But within the library was an assortment of books on the shelves. And a couple hundred books stacked off to the side with one thick book under the only working light so far in the house.

"This is my safe place." Was the cold remark. Like Ice in the cold manor.



Reaction time
E3-D 300/300
Strength
E1-E2 150/150
E2-E3 155/225

Kusono could hear the exhaustion in his tone before the boy before him gave a short and sweet answer.He talked of be a death bringer, a living weapon in training. A boy this young should just be heading into the academy, not talking of blood shed following wherever he went. Although his claims seemed sincere, they where hard to fathom. This boy, most likely armed and living on his own, claimed to shed blood. Kusono himself had not gotten his first enemy ninja kill until he went out with his sensei Wolfgang a few weeks prior to this trip. With all of Kusono's speculation he never dared to underestimate anyone. Kusono was young, but he was not stupid. Underestimating enemies gets you killed or beaten, neither of which enticed Kusono.

The boy may look young, but he carried a certain weight behind his words. Something that Kusono only observed while watching veteran Kaguya members speak of war. Or in his father in those few rare occasions when he was challenged for his position on the branch council. He exuded a certain false danger. It made you want to keep eye contact on him, to ensure that you always knew his intentions. That was exactly what Kusono did as the boy led him up to his manor and through the old creeky double doors. Kusono followed without any dialogue. He was led to a library, dusty and littered with scrolls, books, and rows and rows of full shelves. He introduced it as his 'Safe place', he was an odd child indeed. But it also intrigued the young Kaguya.

"So you live here all lone, just reading these books?" Kusono said flipping the page of an open tome. "You didn't tell me your name, it's only fair I know the name of the host of this manor."

WC: 308

Sero stood there quietly watching the man for a time. How he moved about casually. As if he were comfortable with whatever predicament this situation led to. But he doubted that the man felt that way at all. Everyone was always on edge around him. Like he was flammable and the wrong move could be the match to the inferno. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. He was taking the man on his word so far. Supposedly the man had come here on the ideal that the place was haunted. That hinted at either a thrill seeker or perhaps just trying to prove something. Either way his experience with those types hardly ended well. And he was curios about everything. Subconsciously Sero moved in a circle slowly around the man. His eyes coldly studying him from every angle the way a predator studies another predator in it's territory. Still as the man touched one of his books he paused in his step. A strange sensation having risen within him for just a moment. Something within him didn't want another person touching his books. They were his and he had grown up with them. What gave the man the right to just up and touch his things?

Still he dismissed the feeling as petty and realized he had clenched his fists. He hadn't felt it, Mostly because he never felt anything. No pain. Nothing at all. A flaw in his nerves he figured. Still he unclenched his knuckles and took a breath. There was no need to get excited over anything. He didn't notice that in that moment he had flooded the room with killing intent. And yet he hadn't moved. He had filled the room with the sensation of an animal at it's targets throat and yet he hadn't moved. Just those cold grey eyes. Still he turned and walked through the library. About halfway through it there was a curtain. Quietly he pulled it back. And behind the curtain was insanity. Broken training dolls stained with blood. Targets hit so many times with so many holes it was barely recognizable. Contraptions with spinning blades placed in an obstacle course. Some of which had obviously been bloodied before. Ropes above fire pits with blood stains on the ropes where his hands had lost skin from the training. Weighted suits of barely reasonable weight for his size. The amount of training he had done there was beyond apparent. And yet when he spoke he mentioned it as if everyone pushed themselves to inhuman lengths.

"I inherited everything from my father including his name. Sero Jr. is what I was called but seeing as the original died I go by Sero. And I divvy my time between studying and training. Expanding my mind and body to their limits. And doing it again in the morning after I wake up from passing out."

Strength
E2-E3 225/225
E3-D 300/300

108 wc left over

Kusono flipped a few pages into the tome, skimming a few words from each page to get a gist of what the book was about. The tome was old, most of it's pages had small rips on the sides or other imperfections to them. When Kusono was finished with it he closed it, releasing a small poof of dust from the old tome. He turned his eyes once again to his host, who had gone to the window and pulled up the curtain. What Kusono saw made him let out a small 'hmm'. The curtain hid his host's training field which consisted of various death traps scattered around a field. Various fire pits littered the field. Crude bladed dummies showed signs of dried on blood. Heavy weights which seemed to be too much for the boys stature. It looked like his little host had a strict training regimen. As Kusono took in the various obsticles, his host spoke to him."I inherited everything from my father including his name. Sero Jr. is what I was called but seeing as the original died I go by Sero. And I divvy my time between studying and training. Expanding my mind and body to their limits. And doing it again in the morning after I wake up from passing out."

Kusono came to stand on the other side of Sero, a few feet to his left. "Nice toys, though my regimen is a bit different. We train with our clansmen, using our Kekkie genkai. Saves the trouble of buying stuff like this." Kusono said motioning with his hand. What he was referring to was his usual training regimen with the clan trainers. A hard and brutal training schedule to ensure that the clan contained only the most elite warriors. One such method of training involved having a clansmen increase the weight of your bones by three times their weight. It serves as a odd weight training. The other was to build a stronger, more resilient Kaguya, and to brush up on clan skill. Younger clansmen would face off against veteran clansmen with only a few restrictions. The veterans could not kill or dismember the younger clansmen. Kusono faced off against many of the higher ranking clansmen, had his bones broken and reformed multiple times. His defensive jutsu where cracked through within the blink of an an eye. And he was beaten until he couldn't move. The cycle happened every day, wind, rain or shine. Although the practice was considered barbaric, it did have it's advantages. When something happens often enough, you almost forget it is happening at all. The practice did breed him and his peers into better ninja. Broken bones where like skinned knees to him. Beatings like small time spar injuries. Constant exhaustion was a good work out. All to become a better warrior. "Though I commend you on your dedication to training.Only the strong survive, after all."

WC:491

Sero paused as the man called his work shop toys. Before he turned that gaze like the grey of the dead on the man. The word toys. He had read about them. Seen pictures of them and tried to understand the appeal. But toys were a thing of bliss for children. Over an over again in his reading he noted that weapons were not toys. It irked him that this man standing within striking distance of him in his home called such a dangerous room toys. A place were he had bled and been burned. A place were time and time again his body surpassed it's limits. For a moment something like anger crept over him. Like a filthy slime it crawled up his spine and like a furnace heated him. Emotion. In another second he had suppressed it. Shoving it down back into the void. A state of mind where he only accepted logic. Anything with out a logical explanation like his emotions were not needed. He looked away as he began to speak. His tone was flat but his words sounded very much like he was lecturing some one he thought uneducated on a certain subject. He ignored how insulting it must sound.

"Weapons and toys are obviously different things. To view a weapon as a mere toy is to show a lack of judgement and intelligence.  One does not give a blade to a child, One gives a blade to a warrior. A killer. You may use what ever blood line your clan has but Not all of us have that option. My own bloodline would destroy me in an instant if I tried. Last time I met another in my clan he tried to kill me. Osada wolfgang failed back then only because I made him bleed to the point of needing urgent care."

With another tug on the rope he pulled the curtain closed right in front of them. If the man wanted to call that rooms dangerous items as toys then he didn't need to see it further. Suddenly he began to question why he had let the man in at all. Was it the lack of fear? Was it because the man had not immediately tried to kill him? He could only assume that his judgement was impaired. So he took two paces away from the man before turning to look at him. Far enough to draw his blade if engaged. Before he spoke once more. His entire demeanor was cold and dangerous. Like looking into the eyes of a pit viper with it's gaze locked only on you. Some how this child felt dangerous. Whether or not it was just a feeling was up to the individual feeling the aura. But something screamed that it wasn't safe in that room. Like a danger sense going off.

"Are you satisfied? I do not wish to entertain tourists in my home often. So now that you know this place is not haunted, Know this. People risk injury for intruding on my domain after you leave. Trespassing is enough reason for me to send individuals to surgery. So I advise not advertising your adventure here. But before you go. Do you have any last thoughts Mr. Kaguya?"

Strength
D-D1 325/325
D1-D2 400/400

"Weapons and toys are obviously different things. To view a weapon as a mere toy is to show a lack of judgement and intelligence. One does not give a blade to a child, One gives a blade to a warrior. A killer. You may use what ever blood line your clan has but Not all of us have that option. My own bloodline would destroy me in an instant if I tried. Last time I met another in my clan he tried to kill me. Osada wolfgang failed back then only because I made him bleed to the point of needing urgent care." Well, it seemed he had hit a raw nerve on Sero. Kusono viewed almost everything as toys, including people. Everything could be used to amuse himself. But Sero mentioned Osada Wolfgang. He wondered why he didn't put it together before. Wolfgang was his sensei, who used boil release. Well, that was interesting. Sero had peaked his interest, he would have to mention this to Wolf the next time he saw him. Sero closed the curtain and approached him again

"Are you satisfied? I do not wish to entertain tourists in my home often. So now that you know this place is not haunted, Know this. People risk injury for intruding on my domain after you leave. Trespassing is enough reason for me to send individuals to surgery. So I advise not advertising your adventure here. But before you go. Do you have any last thoughts Mr. Kaguya?" Kuson scratched his chin then began. "Oh, i'm more than satisfied. Though i'd have liked to have seen a ghost or two." Kusono gave a small chuckle. "But you mentioned Osada Wolfgang? As chance would have it that's my new sensei. Care to let me in on your little family feud, or is that a personal thing?"

WC:311

Sero was perfectly fine with the answer. Though he did not understand why anyone would be fascinated with spirits. In most of the books he had read spirits had been moderately useless. Just something that scared people. His studies had led him to believe spirits could not effect the material plain. And thus if it could not hurt him he needed not fear it. So the fear of such things was irrational. Of course the man did not appear to be afraid of much. So perhaps he was looking for a more traditional Japanese spirit. Those all had some significant lore behind them. And often those spirits were either teachers or tricksters. Still he did not know of any there. So the point of finding a spirit or multiple spirits within his home was incredibly unlikely.

However, The man continued to speak. His words reflected how he knew Osada Wolfgang. And of all things it happened to be the mans sensei. That revelation struck him as surprising. First was that Wolfgang was still alive. He figured the only reason he was yet to be attacked was the man had met his end picking fights with others some where. Much like how he had picked a fight with Sero. The second was that not only was he alive but he had been given students. Some one with so little control and such brutal tactics had not only been given a squad but his student didn't appear scarred for it. That alone was unexpected. Still he was suddenly on alert. After all the man had sworn to kill him and now one of his students was right in front of him. He could only assume it was a trap of some sort. Likely Wolfgang had sent him and was some where public at the moment. So if he managed to kill Sero then Wolfgang couldn't be blamed.

Thinking the worst as soon as Kusono was done speaking Sero rapidly pulled out his rapier. The point of it flashing as he brought it up between them. His stance widened as he took a one handed sword stance. His grey eyes watched the boy now. His sword angled for his throat but still he did not press forward and attack. Instead he stood there ready. Killing aura falling off of him in waves. He spoke then. His voice cold as the metal aimed for Kusono's neck. Leaving no room for chuckling and amusement.

"He tried to kill me. In the middle of a crowded area he swore he would end my life and left limping. The fact that you are here now means this location is compromised. Get...out....Now." Those last three words were a cold demand that suggested he might try and stab him did he not comply. He was done taking this risk.

Strength
D2-D3 450/450

Kusono finished explaining himself to the Osada. It was quite an occurrence that they both happened to be from the same clan. This meant that Sero himself could use boil release, just like Wolf sensei could. Wolf was not a bad sensei to him, he actually reminded him of the teachers he had at the clan compound. They beat the crap out of clansmen and tested them to their limits, which made Kusono respect Wolf as a warrior. As soon as Kusono finished his thought, Sero unsheathed his rapier. pointing it towards Kusono's throat. Since they where about five feet apart, typical conversation distance, Kusono plainly saw him go for his rapier. Before Sero could get it pointed at him, Kusono took a step back and got into a fighting stance. The rapier would not be at his throat and he would be relatively safe. Sero's eyes widened and nostrils flaired, indicating extreme anger. "He tried to kill me. In the middle of a crowded area he swore he would end my life and left limping. The fact that you are here now means this location is compromised. Get...out....Now."

Looks like Kusono hit a raw nerve. Kusono did not budge from his stance yet, he would try to reason with Sero before trying to escalate the situation to violence. "Take it easy, Wolf has not mentioned you or even that he was an Osada. I'll leave if you wish, but know i don't intend to make an attempt on your life." Kusono would take a cautious step back, aiming to go out the front door while still keeping an eye on his potential attacker. Should Sero go and try to skewer him with his weapon, the bone re-enforcement technique would protect him from any harm.

WC:299

Sero watched the man in front of him as he assumed his stance. Immediately Sero cast his strongest justu. The blade of the rapier began to glow with chakra and sizzled. Steam rising off of the blade. The entire length of it hissing as it was coated in acid. And yet the blade itself did not corrode. Nor did Sero move. His silver eyes watched the man spoke. But the killer intent did fade a little. Sero did not move even as the man took a step back. He would let him leave. He did not need to kill some one not out to kill him. But he did speak in return as the man back walked towards the door.

"Then I shall not slay you. You are free to leave. But should Wolfgang mysteriously learn of my whereabouts. Only you and perhaps the Kage herself know of this place and my involvement with it. Should I survive your sensei. We will have another talk."

Sero would wait until the man was out the door before releasing his jutsu and sheathing his sword. He needed to prepare. He was likely no match for Wolfgang if he was powerful enough to teach now in a straight up fight. He needed to prepare for the worst case and set up some traps. Things to keep Wolfgang or any other attackers occupied. Should they survive all his traps he would be long gone. But should the traps work. He would find out their purpose and they would find out if he was there to release them, or there to execute them.