Body language told a story all its own; that was what Akarui was taught as a young boy, and it held true even for the Tsuchikage here and now. As Akarui watched the man he seemed to remember something, looking to the side and smiling. He noted that Akira smiled quite a bit. Whether it was because he was confident or pleased he had yet to determine. He was quite relieved when Akira refilled his sake cup for him. It was not particularly good sake; it would have been a waste to prepare it hot if it were; but he was enjoying the warmth of it all the same. Akarui even allowed himself a knowing smile to the Tsuchikage as his cup was filled. Allowed himself? No, the Kōga were taught to seal their emotions from all but the closest people in their lives. Perhaps it was the sake talking? He had only had a single cup. It was an interesting conundrum that Akarui would have to figure out before he drank too must. At least, that was what he thought as he brought the cup up to his lips to take another sip. As Akira began to respond to his rambling, Akarui helped himself to another serving of the stir fry rice; there was no point in letting it get cold. Helping himself hungrily, he lost more and more composure as he continued to eat. He was not used to staying up at night. It would take extra food to keep him going and even more sleep later to stay healthy. However, even as he indulged in his meal, Akarui kept his eyes pinned on Akira, intent on hearing every last word.
As Akira spoke, however, Akarui became somewhat worried. If a taijutsu specialist trained their temple, their weapon, to become stronger and harder, then what did that make him, a bukijutsu specialist? Was his strength dependent on the quality and price of his weapons? Or is a bukijutsu specialist also dependent on the strength of his body along with the quality of his weapons? If this were true did this mean that taijutsu and bukijutsu were not too dissimilar? He did say that a body needed to be able to endure what it is hit with. In Akarui's case this meant his weapon; but did it also mean his body? There was no denying that taijutsu was the pinnacle of training the body. So what good was he if he did not train his body to such levels? Sure, Akarui's weapons were also of great importance for training. That closet would need to be expanded as well with new weapons, new techniques, and new strategies. But an unbalanced body was also a great risk. Sealing was a great defense against jutsu, but against brute strength Akarui had to rely on his weapons and speed. Did that mean that his weapons were merely compensating for Akarui's lack of bodily strength? If that were the case, he wanted to train himself so that they supplemented his strength rather than made up for it. There were many questions Akarui wished to ask the Tsuchikage, but before he could, Akira had already grabbed and knocked out a restaurant patron, and was removing something from him.
Akarui mumbled something vulgar to himself as Akira retrieved a katana from the man's body. Taking a sip of his sake, he looked around the establishment in case one of the armed waitresses or one of the unconscious man's friends came over. As neither did, Akarui sighed, looking down as he continued nibbling at his rice. There was not much of a question of what the Tsuchikage was going to do with the weapon, and it seemed Akarui was going to be a part of it no matter what. It certainly was not much to look at, other than the blade's distinctive wrapping and pommel. Still, while he may not have agreed with his host's reasoning and means, Akarui was not about to reject a gift; especially not a gift from someone so powerful both personally and in the shinobi world as a whole. It was safe to say that the blade had seen better days, and Akira said as much. It was not exactly surprising to Akarui, seeing as how it was taken off of a drunk man in a bar in a minor country without shinobi who obviously was not doing to well for himself. Thought of that way, it was almost quite the find. In fact, the whole situation seemed stranger and stranger to Akarui as it went on. It would not surprise Akarui if this whole event were staged just to allow the Tsuchikage to show off a little. That theory seemed in line with his personality at least. Ask Akira tossed the blade to Akarui he felt the weight of it in his hands as well as the insubstantial amount of care the Tsuchikage had for weapons. If he were honest to himself, it stung a little, though not nearly so much as he appreciated this random act of kindness which he still slightly suspected was not so random.
"Yes we train our body but I have tricks of my own."
So even the Tsuchikage, the pinnacle of human bodily training, supplemented himself with trickery? Others might have suspected that the trickery was the source of the Tsuchikage's overconfidence. Akarui suspected, however, that Akira's confidence stemmed not from his strength at all, but most likely from some psychological complex. Either way, however, this revelation changed the game. If even the taijutsu specialists used supplementary methods, then perhaps being a master of the supplementary was not such a bad thing after all. All this thinking was really getting to Akarui's head. Taking the cup of sake in hand, he downed it, wincing at the burn of the drink in his throat before sliding from his seat and holding the weapon before him, sheathed between his hands.
"Well, if this weapon is going to be reborn in new hands, it will need a new name." Akarui pulled the blade as smoothly as he could from the sheath, though he sighed in a disgruntled manner as the ill maintained weapon complained against its scabbard. Holding it up before him, Akarui smiled as he covered half of Akira's face from his sight.
"From now on, you'll be called Tsuchi no Āmu." Once more Akarui pivoted his head to observe the rest of the restaurant. The last thing he wanted was some waitress coming over to kick them out; or perhaps Akira doing what he feared even more-so in knocking out the rest of the staff and starting a bar fight. As quietly as he could, Akarui slid the sheath for the blade onto the table. He grinned to Akira, sliding his feet into a correct slashing stance and taking a decent swing at the fabric before him. Akira was maybe overconfident, but he was not dumb. At least, he was not dumber than Akarui was. Akarui didn't think that the Tsuchikage would leave himself defenseless even against a genin from another village. With even less hesitation than Akarui had given to the situation, the blade clanked against the overcoat before sliding off and pointing down to the ground. Even suspecting some special jutsu, Akarui was not entirely expecting armor on a taijutsu specialist; not even light armor was all that common from what he knew of.
"Same old confident Tsuchikage sama, hmn? Giving out trade secrets to other villages. I suppose you could just off me if it were truly so much of a problem." Akarui grinned wider at Akira now. Perhaps he was overtired, or maybe the drink was loosening a few things, or maybe Akarui just didn't care about pretenses anymore, but he was having the time of his life.
1322 + 3210 =
4532