Soldiers brandishing the symbol of the village of the leaf on their back moved back and forth, crates and boxes along with various supplies in arms. It was mid-afternoon, the sun just beyond the point of total height in the sky. A song made by the breeze whistled through the greenery as the group of soldiers, a fair quantity for such a small alcove, worked back and forth, in the latter end of the day’s preparations. Scattered around the grassy, secluded area that the large group was were half erect tents, the majority of their supports down slack or not yet in place, and crates all over. From an outside perspective, it was a mess. From an inside, reality of a perspective, this was all part of the job.

And specifically on a job, was a short genin. Clad in rather plain attire, a mixture of reds and whites to form no consistent pattern, the ninja stood at a mere five foot five, feet wearing basic combat sandals. In their pale, lithe hands, he held a crate that seemed almost comically larger than the one carrying it, a wooden crate filled with assorted coloured flares, each concealed within a deep grey container. His hair, long, and a deep enough shade of blue to perhaps be mistaken for black, lay neatly behind him, done back in a ponytail from the middle of his head. His eyes, soft and grey, the eyes of the byakugan, the Hyuga. But behind the softness of his eyes lied an intent of malice, of anger, of frustration; a calculated façade upheld by a calculating individual. This interesting little guy was Izayoi of the branch family of the Hyuga clan. A rather messed up individual. Not the most messed up, but fairly up there in terms of how messed up. Truly, they are what is scientifically known, as fucked up.

Yet, despite the underlying hatred that was Izayoi’s true personality, his façade kept smiling as he went about a task he deemed menial and annoying. This was not at all like the task he had completed recently, wherein he had to simply perform a simple task of recording locations on a piece of paper, cartography if you will. Yet this was setting up equipment that he wasn’t given the luxury of knowing what it did. All he knew was that it was boring, stupid, and a waste of his time. Why did the Hokage waste resources on things such as these tests? All it did was annoy the Hyuuga, although perhaps he should not judge, not knowing the Hokage personally, or enough about the man to judge him on this.

So, the grumpy ninja went about his task, carrying crates to and from various locations around the camp, a smile spread across his face the entire time. Seconds seemed like minutes. Minutes seemed like hours. And the hours passed like slugs, never moving, persistently wasting his time. What probably didn’t help with this was the soldiers’ insistent idea that everyone would love to hear their war stories. At every moment the genin stopped, and sometimes when he was moving, someone, or sometimes multiple people, would begin telling, recanting their never ending story. Some talked about their being around during the Seven Bells incident and retiring to Konoha, only to find themselves back in the military. Others, about the very little things they did or do while on patrol around the land of fire. How boring. So, of course, Izayoi was delighted when they were finished. When the task was done. Saying his farewells as if it was a task he enjoyed, Izayoi left, still smiling. Oh how he hoped they died one day.

616 WC DONE

[EXIT]