Takao loathed many things. From mundane things like the flavours of foods to the more severe, like the open ocean. But nothing inspired so much ire within him than meetings. When he held office, it was meeting after meeting. He would wake up and go to a meeting, leave that meeting for another, and then another and another until night had fallen and the cycle was to be repeated. One could describe Takao as a neophiliac, given that repetition was something he avoided at every opportunity.

At some point, the Kimura family had grown. What had originally started with just him and his father began to branch out. Men married, women married, and children were born. It was reminiscent of a proper clan now, and they had even managed their own compound within the great Village Hidden in the Leaves... yet Takao despised it. Shinobi were creatures of deception and disguise, of deceit and duplicity. With a known name came new abilities, and with a known face came an unwilling forfeit of the element of surprise. There was no better feeling than overwhelming an opponent that was taken by surprise, yet it seemed an event of that caliber was losing its plausibility. A plethora of tricks remained up his sleeve still, but he preferred to have as many at his disposal as possible.

His dislike of meetings and his dislike of the compound in general were largely unrelated to each other, until the time came for clan meetings within the compound. He would never say so himself, but over the years, Takao had become something of a prominent figure within the clan. Perhaps not a household name, but certainly a factor in decisions and the like.

"Guess that's the residual Hokage effect." Takao muttered idly, his words slightly muffled by the unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. The more he thought about the meetings that had been held, the more ironic it seemed. It was a discussion about their eyes. The Kimura were an interesting bunch, their Dōjutsu wasn’t especially potent or powerful in the traditional sense, but it provided them with an angle on the battlefield that so many were quick to ignore. Too often did those combating Dōjutsu rely solely on a field of chakra to protect them, and it was in deception that Kimura prevailed so strongly.

Yet there was troublesome news afloat. Thieves of eyes, a concept that Takao was by no means unfamiliar with, yet the potential for them to target the Kimura was very real. He could only imagine that Suutei might have made the Dōjutsu known to the world, given that he was the only Kimura he knew to have left the village. The kid had always been proud of his bloodline.

The Kimura clansmen that were present for the meeting had dispersed, leaving the compound in an odd state of vacancy. It seemed like he was alone with his thoughts, with only the wind and ambiance of rustling foliage, with the faintest sounds of running water in the distance. He continued down the road for a while, until the sounds of footsteps alerted him to the presence of another.

It was a girl who looked to be a bit younger than him in age, and noticeably shorter as well. She was black of hair, long enough to reach her thighs, and a trained gaze picked out the hazel colour of her eyes that communicated boredom. In the interest of being social, Takao opted to start a conversation.

“I didn’t think anybody would still be around.” Takao said as he approached Shihai, hands falling into the pockets of his black trousers. His jaded eyes lingered on her, hoping that his approach hadn’t caught her off guard. “What’re you doin’ out here?”

Takao watched her carefully as she tilted her head and spoke with hesitation. She made mention of the meeting and being booted from attendance, which brought forth a lowly chuckle. “Ah, yeah. They like to keep unnecessary things secret… but since it was your brother, I guess I can understand their concern. Don’t worry, we didn’t do anythin’ bad to him or somethin’. Was more like a report.” He said, allowing for her to continue before he responded.

"You make it sound like I'm the posterboy for the Kimura. Not sure if I'm into that, to be honest.” Takao said, mulling over the thought just long enough for it to bring a chuckle to rumble in his chest and a small smirk to pull at the corner of his mouth. He liked to think that he embodied the spirit of what it was to be a shinobi. Deception, secrecy, covertness, all that hooplah. Being the face of a clan whose success hinged on deception and secrecy didn’t bode well for him… but in the end, it didn’t matter all that much; an amusing thought none-the-less.

“Anyway… S’nice t’meet you, Shihai. You already know who I am, but I’d still like to introduce myself proper. I’m Takao.” He said, offering a friendly smile. He’d always been taught manners, although they were something he rarely practiced, making this a rare occasion.

She asked if they were in danger, and the question brought him to pause. Were they? The obvious answer was yes, shinobi were always in danger. He wagered to say it was even in the job description as a shinobi. They were tools of war, some regarded as more human than others, but ultimately their purpose remained the same; kill the enemies of the state, the country, and thy neighbor. The notion of protecting comrades was occasionally thrown in to soften the rather unpleasant blow that was the reality of a shinobi’s life, but Takao had believed himself to have seen the underbelly of the beast. He had operated as ANBU and done the dirty work; the training of mental endurance that haunted him, the torturing for information, the brutalizing. All things that would remain with him for a lifetime, and all things that heavily skewed his perception of what it was to “be a ninja”.

"They told me to keep it confidential, but..." He lingered on the final syllable of the word as he mulled over a thought. "It concerns you just as much as it does them. It's better for you to know anyway." Takao continued. He knew fully well that if a team is to operate at pique performance, they need to be on the same “wavelength”, so to speak. Understanding not only what to do, but why to do it in that way was paramount to success, lest they imagine a better way that diverges from the main plan and thus incite chaos and disorder. In this case, knowing the situation they faced might help safeguard her, at least to some degree.

"We have “reason to believe” that the Kimura and several other Dōjutsu wielding clans are being targeted by eye hunters-- shinobi that hunt down Dōjutsu and steal them. Usually they'll sell 'em on some black market, but sometimes they'll have them implanted for themselves." Takao explained, his right hand raising to take the cigarette from the corner of his mouth and hold it between his index and middle fingers.

"Our Dōjutsu is unique since it doesn't see chakra, and most people don't think to hide their body temperature. Makes it a nice tracking mechanism. If that sort of information became public or the wrong people got 'hold of it, it's more than likely we'd be targeted." A deliberately slow inhale through his nostrils flooded his lungs with air, and was followed by the inevitable exhale.

“I don’t expect us to be in any more danger than normal. Your brother isn’t in any particular danger either; I don’t know that it’s my place to tell you ‘bout everything that went on though, so I’ll leave it to him to decide.” Takao said, not wanting to overstep the boundaries of what the siblings might have to discuss. It wasn’t his place after all, as he’d said.

“So, Shihai.” Takao began with an offer to change the subject to something a bit more casual. “You said you’re a fresh graduate, yeah? Have you been given a squad assignment yet?”

A careful set of eyes watched as she lifted her hand and touched her own right eye, resulting in the slight smile on his face to tug downward into a more neutral and borderline frown. It was a morbid thought to implant into the mind of somebody that was fresh to the evils of the world, to tell them that somebody they didn’t know would have no problem with plucking an eye from their skull to use for themselves… or even worse, to simply sell, as if they were just cattle to be harvested. It was important for her to be informed of the dangers, that much he couldn’t deny himself, but disturbed none the less.

“You’re a Kimura,” Takao began, the desire to offer her a bit of comfort after the distressing news he’d given. “...and Kimura protect each other. For as long as I’m alive ‘n breathing, nobody’s gonna take your eyes-- or anybody else’s eyes for that matter.” He said, offering another smile of reassurance. It was a tall order to lay claim to, protecting the entirety of the clan. He knew fully well that there was always somebody bigger and stronger, but it was no less a life worth protecting.

“Forming a squad on the streets?” Takao asked curiously, one eyebrow quirked upward and his arms folded. There were a plethora of issues that came with an inactive, borderline Missing-In-Action Hokage. The workload found itself scattered chaotically which lead to disorganization and, as one would expect, chaos indeed. But for something like squad assignments to fall through the cracks? That was certainly an annoying product of the umpteenth’s Hokage’s absence.

“...Well, ‘spose that’s one way to do it. The village sure is disorganized at the moment. You’d think squad assignments would be easy enough to do.” Takao muttered lowly, more-so thinking out loud than actually offering a response. Takao hadn’t been the best Hokage during his short time some years ago, although he did like to think he was cut some slack due to the circumstances. Taking over at the age of sixteen and immediately heading into a war negotiations was a lot to expect from a kid, and he’d done his best… even if it had resulted in a few unnecessary deaths. Win some, lose some, all that nonsense.

“I’ve had a few squads over the years, actually. Most of ‘em ended up retiring, although one of my students ended up becoming Hokage.” He answered, words not particularly intended to be bragging. Tatsumaru, the Hokage that had succeeded Takao, was an old memory he would much rather forget. Thusly, he quickly moved on from the subject. “But uh, yeah. Had a few squads that didn’t work out.”

Her inquiry developed into a request, or a proposition of studentship. Takao’s head tilted to side slightly and he considered her for a moment, glancing her over before nodding slowly. “Y’know, I’ve actually been looking for a proper student. My old students never really worked out ‘cause I’m a bit of a hard ass and don’t share my secrets, but…” His arms unfolded, one moved into his pocket and the other rested on his hip. “My secrets are more-so the Kimura secrets-- techniques and strategies that only work when used by a Kimura. So, I’d be happy to have you as my student, Shihai.”

Takao was no stranger to making bold claims and big promises. It had landed him in trouble in the past and would continue to do so in the indefinite future, but he just couldn’t help himself. Setting a goal for himself to achieve was what kept him moving forward, what kept his progression from plateauing and his mind from rotting at the hands of inactivity. Promising others the safety with the odds stacked so strenuously against him wasn’t fair, neither to himself nor to them, but he seldom concerned himself and his decisions with what was fair and what wasn’t. He would protect them until he drew his last breath. Shihai, the Kimura, and even Konohagakure. It was his home, and they were his family. In the darkest moments, they would be the light that shined for him. They would be the beacon in the darkness that kept him walking forward.

So it wasn’t fair for him to use her and the Kimura as his means of giving himself purpose, but it was what he felt needed to be done. Simply by its nature, it wasn’t a selfish pledge either. It just wasn’t something he was necessarily doing out of the good in his heart.

“They’ll slip up and make a mistake eventually. ‘n when they do, we’ll be there to make sure they don’t get an opportunity to make another. I’d be happy t’have you with me then.” He said, offering her a slight nod of his head.

At the inquiry of his squads not working out, he simply shook his head and shrugged. “They like t’think that the squad selection process works wonders, but it’s a gamble in reality. Skillset compatibility rarely align with personality compatibility, and chances of success are severely hindered if a squad is constantly at odds with one another.” He explained, arms folding at his chest. It hardly looked good to have so many squads under his leadership fall apart, and some might say it spoke of his ability to lead and teach. In reality, Takao understood when he was the right teacher for somebody and when his instruction would be more detrimental than it was good.

It was then that some suit and tie approached him, briefcase in hand, and informed him that there were inconclusive reports ready. A huff of breath escaped his nostrils and he nodded, glancing back to Shihai. “Sorry to bail on you.” He said, bowing his head slightly. “I’ll be around the compound. Have fun at the marketplace.”