Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat.

The sound was comforting to Sarutobi, Mitsuo as he sat at his desk in his compound, pen in hand, working on a small amount of paperwork that he had to take care of. He was Konohagakure no Kato’s Captain of the ANBU Black Ops, and that meant he was responsible for overseeing training and allocation of missions to different agents, a task which he didn’t overly mind as it gave him a nice break from the hectic mess that was his regular life. The rain on the rooftop was becoming louder and he realised there was a storm coming. He looked down at the list in front of him and sighed slightly, eyes running over the page constantly. He knew that the numbers of the Konohagakure no Kato ANBU were lower than they should be, and he had gone to recruit a few people, but he was having a difficult time finding people to fill in the voids left by the losses during the War of Seven Bells.

Since his return, and the actual reason of his return if he were to be honest, he had also been acting as the Commander of Konohagakure no Kato, or in essence the proxy hokage in the absence of the current kage, Mitsuhide Uzumaki. This had essentially doubled or potentially even tripled his workload and he had to work harder than he ever had before. There were times he regretted having had to return, missing his cozy room inside of the Aoi Bara mansion. He looked to the corner of his office where upon an armour dummy sat his old Aoi Bara cloak and mask, the cloak still heavily stained with blood from both missions he had performed as a part of the group, and from the countless enemies he had slain at the War of the Seven Bells Clan. He thought back to his invitation to join the strange motley crew of missing ninja from all over the world who were simply trying to make the world a better place and it put a slight smile on his face, thinking to the day that he first met Tsuyo Hyuuga, a day that had changed his life indeed. He was then snapped back to reality and sighed as he finished writing the letter that he had previously been working on.

Border Patrol duties will go to agents Kitsune and Hepa, all other agents are to report into me for their assignment, I expect this to be completed post haste. 16:00 on the dot, no exceptions. We are ANBU, we are proud, we are the shadows in the night. You have your orders.

Hiroshi, Hiruzen.

He finished the quick letter to his agents, putting his head into his hand and sighing slightly, his fingers running through his long hair. He had been through a lot himself recently and he had been thinking of the past events more and more, finding it difficult to just let go of the past and let it be. One of the things that he had brought back from his time in Iwagakure no Sato and Kirigakure no Sato was a conscious full of painful memories and a body full of new scars, but he had also brought back something much more important than that. He had learned to love again, something he hadn’t thought would be possible. As he looked towards the picture of Kimaru Hyuuga that he had sitting on his mantle he no longer felt as sad as he once had, but instead remembered his life and love fondly. He had learned to move on and let go of his past. He fell in love with a Sannin of Kirigakure no Sato named Strafe Aisu, a man who had even followed him back to Konoha, leaving his own village behind, and whom Mitsuo had moved into his compound. He had learned about true friendship, looking towards the urn of the remains of Ukiyo Senju, a person he had once considered to be like a sister. He supposed he still cared about her, as if he hadn’t she wouldn’t be sitting on his mantle beside the picture of Kimaru, but when she attacked him and his friends he learned a valuable lesson.

Ever since stepping up as the proxy Hokage, Mitsuo had found himself interacting with more and more people who he would otherwise never have the chance to interact with, and as he stood from his chair behind his desk and moved towards his Shadow Armour and began to dawn the modified ANBU armour, he thought about the person who he would be training. Today he would be helping a promising young shinobi who had an interesting kekkai genkai. His clan was known for using their blood as an element instead of any others, making them fascinating to say the least. He had been sent a personal request to train the young Rippa in the ways of the sword, and as his sensei had once done for him, he couldn’t help but accept. He finished strapping the gauntlets of his armour on and pulled his black leather trench coat on over the armour, as well as his black strap pants and combat boots, and then grabbed four training swords from his rack. Around his neck was the newly readorned Konohagakure no Kato forehead protector which had been sorely missed when he was not using it, and on his face were his trademark glasses, which he hadn’t needed to use for the past two years.

Greetings Rippa,

I am writing you to request that you join me in my compound this afternoon at three pm so that I may accept your request of sword training. I would be honored to help train one of the future swordsmen of our village, and as Head of the Sword Saints division I believe it is my duty to insure that the blades of Konohagakure no Kato are sharp and our warriors ready. I will provide training weapons and I will be your opponent so you must be on your toes. I will teach you as my master once taught me, through hard work and beratement, so I hope you are ready.

Looking forward to seeing you,
Mitsuo Sarutobi,
Commander of Konohagakure no Kato and Head of Konoha's ANBU Black Ops.

He sent the letter out with a member of his ANBU to ensure that it would arrive as quickly as possible, as it was nearly the requested time, and then made for the door.

He stepped out into the courtyard of the Sarutobi compound, the rain still coming down above him, and he smiled and inhaled deeply. This was exactly what he was hoping for. A little bit of rain always helped make sword training more interesting. He wouldn’t be using live steel today, instead favouring a pair of    training blades which were blunted so they would not be able to do any serious damage, but if they were using real weapons these conditions could be just as deadly as either of the combatants in the fight. Mitsuo had always been told to use the elements to his advantage, and he would hopefully instill this into his newest charge, setting two of the swords onto a holder that was near the edge of the courtyard and holding the other two in each of his hands. He had recently began favouring a two weapon approach to fighting, and he had hoped that Rippa would appreciate the style as it was a particularly dangerous one to fight against. The weapons that he had set aside were a pair of long swords, a katana and a bastard sword. He would give him plenty of opportunity to choose whatever he felt comfortable with. As Mitsuo waited, he took to attacking one of the training pillars they had set up, striking it with a thrust from his left while blocking his left side with his right blade and then following up with a strike from his right blade while bringing his left to block. Poetry in motion, swordplay was art plain and simple, and Rippa would certainly learn that today…

(1369)

Rippa sat within the weight room of the guest house he resided in on his fathers lot of land. He still refused to live in the main house itself. After all the smells of medical supplies and illness was not something he wanted to be associated with his memories of childhood. And that was almost all the house smelled like whenever he passed it. With his father dying of the blood illness and Orochi Enaka working tirelessly on his uncles pay roll to try and save a dying man. It had been attempted for generations but he didn't think Enaka of all people was going to find something a family focused entirely on medicine for generation after generation of research couldn't. He felt lost at the thought. As if the disease was incurable. What was the worst part about it was the disease was genetic. Most of the family had not been allowed to breed if they had the disease and had nearly wiped it out. But his family had always been to proud of a bloodline to accept the dictations of others. So naturally they had continued to have sons and died younger then most expected. And so was to be his fate. That was unless him and his uncle died without having children. If they could manage that then the disease might just die with them.

He wasn't to familiar with the other two branches or how they handled the blood disease but he was sure they either accepted it as he did or had already wiped it out due to forced lack of breeding. He didn't see that happening with the Oni path though. They had always been too self centered to sacrifice themselves. There was a time in the history of the clan where the Oni branch had attacked his branch due to jealousy of their riches. Mostly rich due to their innate healing capabilities. They had all become medical professionals which had proven to be lucrative prospects for the branch. But these days the third branch enforced peace between them all. And going against the third branch was asking to face destruction. By far they were the most combat capable. Still he just wanted to forget it all and leave it all behind.

And so he had sent out a request to train on how to use a weapon. Something most people in his clan regardless of branch avoided. After all getting cut was asking for the blood curse to take over. Thats what he had heard it called anyway. The blood curse. When a Chi member was injured and they berserked uncontrollably. No chi member had ever broken free of that curse. It was just a truth that if they bled then they lost control. So blades were typically taboo. But that was something he would choose to ignore. The battle plan up until this point had always been to keep the enemy at a range. But that was hardly ever possible with close range specialist. So he needed to up his close range game too. He was naturally not as strong as others so bladed combat to their fists sounded like a plan. But who to teach him? He doubted he would get a response but still he had sent a formal request to the rumored strongest swordsman in the world. The acting commander of Konoha himself. He needed someone strong enough to easily fend off his blood curse in the case of an accident and who better? Still he thought the request sent in vain. Who had time for some one who was so green to using a sword? Still he sat there looking at the letter an Anbu member had just dropped off for him. Its contents laid out before him.

Greetings Rippa,

I am writing you to request that you join me in my compound this afternoon at three pm so that I may accept your request of sword training. I would be honored to help train one of the future swordsmen of our village, and as Head of the Sword Saints division I believe it is my duty to insure that the blades of Konohagakure no Kato are sharp and our warriors ready. I will provide training weapons and I will be your opponent so you must be on your toes. I will teach you as my master once taught me, through hard work and beratement, so I hope you are ready.

Looking forward to seeing you,
Mitsuo Sarutobi,
Commander of Konohagakure no Kato and Head of Konoha's ANBU Black Ops.

He had read the letter over and over again. Even now it was only noon and he was unsure if it wasn't some prank. Regardless though he should at least investigate and find out if it was true. His blue eyes looked up to the window as if scanning the rain drops slapping against it for the answer to it all. Most would question his motives. He had a promising future in the medical field. His family would easily have given him a position at the hospital had he intended to be a civilian. But that had never appealed to him. Most would have gladly forced his education outside of the ninja academy but his father had responded unexpectedly to his childish request and instead of denying him, he supported the choice. And so he had become a shinobi of the angel branch. Almost unheard of up until that point. Still if he was to prove his father wasn't wrong in putting his belief in with his childs then he shouldn't hesitate to go. In truth though he supposed that he didn't really suspect it was a prank. In fact he suspected it was an opportunity. But he had always been one to hesitate before. Stepping into the heat of battle was never without a thought process for him. Always gathering information before moving. That was why he had no intentions of joining up with the sword saints. No, in fact he was intent on the medical division.

So why join who was arguably the best swordsman in the world for what could only be the strangest and most intense of training sessions in his life. The level of their abilities was so different that he knew the man would have to hold back just to keep from killing him. Or so the fables of his power would imply. So he would go and try. And survive. Failure was not an option. And maybe he could prove he was stronger then anyone else thought. But prove it to Mitsuo or to himself? It didn't really matter. He rose up from the weight bench he had been using to his feet and moved out of the weight room. He only had a couple of hours to arrive and it would not serve his intentions to be late. So he walked down the hall and up the stairs. His room was still as empty and clean as ever he noticed as he opened the door. Stripping out of the sweat stained work out clothes of shorts and a grey tank top only to slip into the shower briefly. Using the hot water as more of a way to relax and renew his muscles before his next work out. And finally he would prepare by getting dressed. A black tank top with black shinobi pants. Black socks and black combat boots. Even slipping on some black finger-less gloves. It looked like a bit of a theme with his clothing but he always dressed that way before heading out on assignment or for training. But that was not all there was to his outfit. He slipped on a knee length red leather coat with the Konoha headband stitched into the left shoulder. And a silver necklace with angel wings as a symbol hung about his neck. For the occasion he tied his white hair back into a small pony tail. And with that he was ready.

He left his complex with a red umbrella used to keep the rain off of him. His boots splashing mud as he walked down the path. Everyone seemed to have decided to stay home for the day to avoid the rain. Aside from the shops with actual roofs the street merchants were all packed up and dry. His walk was lonely and uneventful as he approached the compound were the infamous Mitsuo Sarutobi was waiting. He moved to the front gate before handing them the letter. After a few moments the letter was returned to him and one of the guards led him to the compound itself and then to the courtyard. It was there that he first laid eyes on his would be instructor. His blue eyes never wavered as he bowed his head keeping his eyes on the man. Something in his eyes seemed to show utter conviction. As if he was there with purpose. He would not go down easily if he could help it. That much was fact to him and his resolve.

"Chi Rippa reporting in for training."

WC 1517
Speed
D-1 ~> D-2, 400/400
D-2 ~> D-3, 450/450
D-3 ~> C, 525/525

Left over 142