The events which transpired in the strange land within the portal within Kirigakure no Sato would become a distant memory for the young samurai boy, almost as absent and insignificant as a dream. Somehow he awoke after his greivous wounds were recovered from. The samurai spirit and Kirei had obviously found aid for him. The group of three consisting of Watsuji, Hideyoshi, and Kirei would spend some time investigating this warped world. They faced many undead horrors and trying situations in that place both from within the group and without it. Hideyoshi seemed to have been in even more sour spirits with a body than when he was sealed in his blade. He went back inside of it quite willingly when the trio made their escape from the land of the dead. For quite some time afterwards the two would adventure and grow together. The friendship which had formed was just so easy and the two simply clicked. From separate worlds, they had so much to teach one another. In a world full to the brim of conflict and pain, friendship would prevail. Youth was beautiful in this way.

Caught up to the present day, a well-rested Watsuji woke up and stretched. All of his painful injuries had been healed away long ago. The spry young samurai would jump to his feet with excitement, prepared to embrace a new day. Upon the desk across the room a black envelope read lay, something that had become common of Kirei for delivering information to his often oversleeping friend. The partially naive young boy had taken almost no notice of the nearly packed and stacked room before opening up the letter and reading its contents. A meeting where Watsuji has first met the blonde shinobi. An exciting adventure for certain, would be the thoughts crossing through Watsuji’s mind. He had settled into this feeling of happiness and comfort. Safety, even. Just one good friend had changed everything for a boy. Youth was caring in this way.

Pulling on one of his now plentiful outfits, consisting of a navy blue robe with white trimmings, Watsuji would fasten his weapon’s to his side in their sheathed and finish getting dressed before pushing open the door and using his key to lock it behind him. A life of being required to be serious as to not lose ones life had robbed Watsuji of a chance to laugh and play. The twelve year old was well known to the neighbors and many street vendors now, always darting around every which direction and bringing smiles and joy to the onlookers. Youth was funny in this way.

As he exited the village, the guards opening the gates with little resistance but a smile and a careful glance and the boy carried nothing unusual for any mischief making. They had learned much of the boy and moreso they didn’t bother inspecting him anymore. He was a friend of the Mist. He skipped over and across the barren branches of through the wooded area, now able to navigate with the same haste and finesse he had witnessed Kirei doing on that first day the two met. This method of moving he had picked up from the Sharingan bearing a Uchiha had taken some time to master but everything seemed to have come to Watsuji with time and dedication. Spotting the clearing the two had originally fought the pirate scum in, Watsuji would release his grip on the tree limb along with the swinging momentum to toss himself lightly into a large pile of cold and frosted foliage, intentionally. He burst up from that pile with some gentle laughter and brushed himself off l, walking up to his friend “You know, the guys we found here...how about those get-ups? Clearly they were on another plane in terms of fashion weren’t they?

A laugh escaped him as he sat next to his pal and looked at his wonderful robe-clad soul sibling. It was only then as he sat here, the place where everything had begun, that Watsuji of the Miyamoto realized this meet-up might have been something far more important than he had realize for prepared for. He looked over to Kirei and asked directly “Why this place, Kirei? What’s going on?”

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The words which reached Watsuji’s ears would be heard before they were understood as the two boys sat together in the snow at the site of their first meeting. There were many memories associated with that place now. Formerly just a place in the wilderness, they had made it into more with actions. He would only remain quiet for just a spell longer than the usual pause in conversation before looking upwards toward the snow, a few flakes landing upon his nose and brushing over his face gently. Kirigakure was a land of oddities the young samurai boy had never seen before. His decision to leave home and break the long and strange pause on interaction between the Miyamoto and the shinobi was a worthwhile one. Not only had Watsuji felt a growth within as he has ventured alongside his newfound brother from a foreign land, but he had started to crack away at the tough shell of the nasty spirit within his tanto, Hideyoshi.

Even with the looming entity that was Hideyoshi, Kirei of the Uchiha had accepted the samurai and trusted him with his life. That was more than Watsuji could have ever asked for and made this moment even more trying. His home was not here in Kirigakure no sato, but with the village Hidden in the Leaves which lay deep in the land of fire, another place Watsuji had never ventured. His progress was surely something he would have to go home about, the village likely always needed it’s stronger people such as the young Uchiha. It was a reminder to Watsuji that his people might also need him. “Of course they need you, Kirei. They’d be fools to let you stay this far removed for long, wouldn’t they?”

The weather was cold and each moment of silence was notable, even following the light chuckle Watsuji did at his own remark toward Kirei, giving him a light jab on his shoulder. “We are warriors of our time, are we not? I’m sure my people would like to know how this adventure has gone as well. I know bloody well my mother is pondering all of the worst things that could have happened to me this far out from my home village. What do you think she’d do if I show up at the door around this time next week?” The question would be more rhetorical than anything, a response to Kirei’s offer for Watsuji to accompany him to Konohagakure. He would look around and twiddle his thumbs a bit, choking a bit on his sadness but too proud to be moved to tears. He would reach around and put his arm around Kirei as he awaited for a response giving him any amount of time he needed to speak.

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