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Naruto Saga » Kaminari no Kuni » Kumogakure » Let Me Be Your Teacher [Ibara, or Invite]

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Marici

Marici


S-rank
There were a few things that were no secret about Marici: the first was that she was married to Kobayashi Daremo, the second being she had two adorable twins that she loved and was beastly protective over, and the third being her love for fruit teas. Most people in the mornings were coffee drinkers, but Marici was perfectly content to stop on her way to wherever in the morning and buy herself a nice hot or iced - depending on the weather - fruit tea. As was the usual for Marici she had been up since five o’clock, her internal alarm unwilling to allow her to sleep later despite the fact that she had pulled a late shift at the hospital and hadn’t actually fallen asleep until nearly two o’clock in the early hours of the morning. Nonetheless she was awake and alert, and ready to start her day.

While technically off duty, and not needed at the hospital for the next three days, she was nonetheless not exactly free. Her husband had made a request of her in regards to a specific Senju, and Marici had been easily swayed out of curiosity to do as her husband had asked. From what she had gathered this particular female had no formal ninja training, and wasn’t technically a shinobi at all, and yet her husband was curious to see if she wished to learn and Marici… well, she was just curious. Ever since her days in Konoha she had become rather curious about the clan that used wood release with ease: plants could be dangerous and downright lethal, and a mixture of wood release and medical ninjutsu could pose a problem for even the most hardened of shinobi. So, the thirty-something year old red headed female was more than content to go question and - nicely - bully the young Senju into letting her take her under her proverbial wing and teach her a thing or two.

As she made her way to the market, knowing well where her first stop of the morning would be, she found herself thinking back to her own training: it had been brutal to put it lightly. Trained by a serial killer, Daremo’s mother, Mayuko had not been kind of gentle with the young Marici even though she had been barely hanging on to life due to her debilitating sickness. The woman had drilled into her throughout the years that no one would take it easy on her because she was sick, and in fact her sickness would make her look like easy prey for those looking to rob her or other nefarious plans. Her first training session at Mayuko’s hands had seen Marici being knocked unconscious, but not before a crater had been carved into the ground by Mayuko who had grabbed Marici by her hair and used her face as a gardening hoe. Almost every bone in Marici’s body had been broken at one point in time throughout the years of training, and while many in her position would have resented the woman for it Marici did not: Mayuko had broken Marici down just as she had promised and then had molded her into the strong and confident individual she was today. Marici knew within her heart that she wouldn’t have survived as a shinobi as long as she had without the woman’s training, and it had saved her butt on more than one occasion while on a mission.

As she turned properly into the market her leather boots made not a sound, and she simply gave a friendly nod to those whom looked her way. Her attire, a black long sleeved shirt cut off in the middle which revealed feminine but toned abs, and black leggings, was apparently eye catching enough to cause onlookers to pause and stare, or perhaps it was her long fiery red hair which today was done up in a bun and held in place by two wickedly sharp senbon with barbed ends. Either way it didn’t bother her: her pale skin had granted her the nickname “vampire” when she was younger, and truth be told that title was not far off the mark considering her fang-like canines and her chakra siphoning abilities. But, assumed vampire or not, she had little interest in the going-on’s of those around her and instead had her stormy grey colored gaze on a stall not all that far down which would end up killing two birds with one stone considering that was where the Senju in question she was seeking worked - and the fact that she could acquire her much beloved fruit tea from. Dodging a toddler who had made a sudden escape from a young and harred looking mother, Marici crossed the street and headed directly towards her destination.

Arriving at the stall she patiently awaited her turn before walking to the counter. “A strawberry fruit tea, please. Iced. I’m also looking for Senju Ibara?”, Marici spoke, her voice soft, kind, friendly sounding - complete opposite from the commanding voice used when on missions or when working within the walls of the hospital.

847

Ibara

Ibara


D-rank
Though she had been receiving such invitations before, the frequency of letters Ibara had received from the Raikage's and the members of his office regarding her enrollment with the shinobi forces of the village had increased significantly in time since the death of Hastur, the previous raikage. Ibara had completed her studies in the acadamy in her youth, but had since abandoned training focused on her role as a kunochi but instead on that of her family. Nearly every aspect of her life in her recent memory(for recent memories were all she seemed to have), seemed to be of life in nature and of its many facets. Upon one of the peaks of the many mountains that were in and around Kumogakure was her isolated garden home. From afar the lush green foliage would just peak from above the stone spires, but within were an unimaginable haven for plantlife. Emerald green it has been ever since her parents had planted the seeds of both their home and of their garden in this cove so long ago.

That concept, of parents and who they were and why they were no longer here was one that had escaped her. Despite that, she still seemed not allowed to fully forget what was at the edge of the darkness that wrapped around her mind. Condolences had come from both those that she knew and those that had known her parents, but she did not fully grasp the concept of either. Her lack of clarity in such matters was not all that unknown either, for those few that had spoken to her face to face both before and after the tragedy were not blind to the strangeness that had infected the once lively girl. Ibara would wonder to herself that perhaps this is why they tried so hard to enlist her, not for actual need of her skill but as a way to monitor what effects a trauma like this would instill in a young woman. Uncomfortably self-aware, Ibara had decided to maintain her self-mandated isolation and ignored such matters, only to be in the public eye when she maintained her late family's stall in the market every weekend from sunup to sundown.

Such was how Ibara's day had begun. Before the sun had begun to even let the horizon glow, she had loaded a heavy handcart with various herbs and nutritive varieties of fruits and vegetables. Indeed she could grow nearly anything desired by hand at a whim should the need be, but if she were to bring the onces gifted to her by her well tended garden she would neither need to expend the precious chakra that it required nor would she make another customer needlessly uncomfortable about “Non-organic food”, or whatever that meant. With the purples shifting to pinks and oranges of a sunrise she would have already done her full morning routine; fully stocked her stall of all produce, “refreshed” the previous weeks produce with mokuton chakra and restoring it to the state it were as if it had just been plucked, started a whole table of various herbal and fruit teas to brew, and already begun to delve back into “A Botanists Handbook” that she had started the evening before. Now the sun was bright in the sky and filtering sunlight through the fabrics that the stalls had to provide shade. Her own was well shaded, but for the spot in which she sat. A golden ray of sun would bathe the seat in which Ibara sat, a spot that she would move her chair to stay in as the sun would shift in the sky.

Fully immersed in the angsty being that a teenager in her situation might become(even if because she didnt seem to understand why the situation should be causing her distress in the first place), she had taken to socializing as little as possible even while tending to the stall. She was well aware of the the fact she did not need the income from this stall to provide for herself and could life in complete isolation should she lose that fragile connection she had with the people of this village, but still she would tend to it. Even if tending to it meant letting customers rifle through whatever they needed and leaving a basket on the table for them to drop whatever it was they wished to pay. A risky strategy, not that she would care in the least, but word of who she was and her less than favourable past would leave people treating her with a sort of dignified silence. Only the lowest of people would take items without at least dropping some small coins, though had anyone decided to formally ask her she likely would give them anything from the stall at no cost at all. That approach she waited for was dissuaded from her appearance though. Usually her head were tilted downward as an angle, so that her single pale pink eye could scan the page of whatever textbook lay open before her. Focused as she was and with only one eye to be used, often she just didn't see their approach. Paired with a rather unnatural stillness and the oh-so peculiar feature that was the stark variation in her other eye, or what ought to have been there, newcomers had wondered if perhaps she were not human at all but rather a porcelain statue with a large flower upon its visage. Indeed, there was no eye to speak of in the rightmost socket, though that was a fact most never came to see as a wide-petaled lily would bloom from where the eye would have been. Speckled pink across pale ivory petals, long pollen covered tendrils extending from its heart. To frame such an unforgettable face were nearly as unforgettable locks of long silky hair that shone like pearls.

It was this same position the red-maned woman who approach with purpose would find her in. And as always not even the smallest acknowledgment of someones approach. She did know, she always knew when one was close. But that would not change her behaviour. “A strawberry fruit tea, please. Iced.”, Ibara would jab a finger in the direction of the table of tea without bothering to look up from the age-yellowed page. Not another thought would have been spared had she not followed up with,”I’m also looking for Senju Ibara?” That would catch her attention, those who knew her name often were also aware that she likely would be nothing but repugnant should they approach her. From the page her pale eye would slide and up to the woman who addressed her. She would meet the gaze as best she could, though as unsettling as it normally was to meet eyes with a singular one, the stunning beauty of a flower upon her cheek would make the intensity slightly unsettling. Unnatural, like a painting come to life. Full lips would move so slightly, ”That would be I” She would stand to find that she were about the same height as the red headed woman, though her feet were bare on the soft pad of grass she had grown on the earth below her market stall. Walking the few feet to fill the ordered tea, she would inquire as to the purpose of her being sought, “Why are you looking for me?

1248

Daremo




S-rank
Daremo was not a heavy sleeper. Years of experience as a shinobi, and with a mother who drilled into him the need for being aware at all times, sculpted him into an individual who will awake from the slightest of noises or moment within the vicinity. That is why, even though his wife tried her best not to disturb his sleeping, he woke up at the same time as she did. Her slight moment being just enough disturbance to kick him out of his slumber. Stretching, the sound of his bones popping echoed loudly through the room, he did not mind being woken up by her. For, a quick glance at the clock told him, he needed to get to the office today away. He needed to get an early start on looking over the document pertaining to some of the other shinobis within the village, and also finish distributing squads.

Speaking on shinobi, his thoughts drifted onto one that he had asked Marici to look into Senju Ibara. Although, if one would be technical, the teenager was not a full-fledged shinobi, she did complete her studies during her youth, but, forgone any advancement afterward. He could not really blame the teenager due to the injury that she sustained, and the lengths in which her family went to in ensuring her survival. Becoming a shinobi would have been the furthest thing from anyone’s mind if they were in her shoes. And while he very much would have loved to respect her privacy, allowing her to continue on being a civilian, he could not overlook the potential she had in become something great.

The Senju clan nearly always produced shinobi with talent that went above the average shinobi and those from lesser known clans. From the likes of Ukiyo, the S-rank missing-nin from Konoha who caused enough havoc that she forced Ayakashi, Tsuyo, and the Hokage at the time, to act against her. To his personal friend, Airi, the herbalist who was more intuned with nature more than others. Both of them had show or shown the potential in what a Senju can or could do if nurtured correctly. Seeing the potential in others from her clan, it made him curious in seeing if Ibara had the same latent potential. Could she become something like Ukiyo, except not a missing-nin, but feared by the nations? Or could she become attuned with mother nature to the point that she can see through her eyes? What would become of Ibara, if she had a dedicated teacher?

Though, there was another reason why he was doing this. He had seen the number of requests the council had made for her. They wanting to draw her back into the military for their own reasons. He knew not of the thoughts which lurked behind the minds of the council, but, he could guess what some thought. Why allow a valuable asset like her continue to waste themselves by acting like a civilian. Probably too many, the girl was just wasting her time running a fruit and tea stall. So, in order to get the council off of Ibara’s back, and to sate his own curiosity, he asked Marici to meet her. Who better to meet the girl than the Raikage’s bodyguard?

But, apart of him was also curious about the Senju. He wanted to meet her personally, to see what she is like for words in a file can only tell an individual so much. Thus, instead of heading straight to his office, like he told his wife, he instead sent a shadow clone, as he, himself, made a detour. His Anbu guard silently following him in the shadows as he moved across the rooftops before dropping down in a nearby alleyway, and merging with the crowds in the marketplace. Wearing a dark grey kisode, black hakama, and wooden geta, he did not stick out amongst the crowd as there were others dressed in similar kimono-like entire. Tugging on the white haori, citrine eyes located the fruit and tea stand. “I will get the same thing she is having.”, his words came out smoothed as he stood beside Marici, and gave her a knowing sideways glance before turning his attention back to Ibara. “How is business?”, he questioned, deciding to make small talk for now.


727



Marici

Marici


S-rank
Marici knew the moment her husband detoured from heading to his office: the sensation of his chakra was well known to her considering the fact that the pair had been around one another since she was born and had grew and strengthened at each others sides. She knew his chakra better than the chakra of anyone else, and could sense it at vast distances. Of course, it helped that she was also paranoid as hell about the new mantle her husband had just claimed and the dangers that had come with it. The fact that he was blending in with the crowd instead of keeping his distance made her twitch: while she didn’t doubt his own skill, she doubted Anbu very much. She didn’t trust them, and didn’t like the majority of them nor felt they were competent. Then again, she was an overprotective wife who didn’t like the man she loved being in dangerous situations.

So, it was no surprise when she felt the sensation of Daremo coming up behind her, and it tamed her reaction to the sensation of power at her back that otherwise would have had her reacting in a violent manner. Instead she kept her stormy-grey gaze focused on the Senju as the girl stood and moved to go about getting the tea Marici had ordered. At the question posed to her as to what Marici was seeking her out for Marici couldn’t help but to wonder at what the girls reaction would be when she answered. Would she agree so readily? Would she argue against being taught by Marici and joining the shinobi forces? Or would the reaction be something else entirely? “I’m here to offer you a proposal, actually.”, Marici would begin, pausing to give a glance towards her husband: silently communicating her curiosity if this was going to go over well or not.

”I don’t take on many students - but I want to offer up a chance to be trained under me. I’m sure you’ve had your reasons for not being a shinobi, but I’m hoping to change your mind. I think you have a lot of potential, and could go far. If nothing else my training would ensure you could protect yourself properly and better than you can now - which for anyone running a stall is a necessity considering the bandits and thieves around.” Marici had no way of telling if she could persuade the girl so easily, or if she would have to switch tactics. Her words however were truthful, especially with the damned Infinity Gang which had slowly begun to make itself known in the village. While they likely wouldn’t have cared much about what the girl had to sell they were a nasty lot, and she really didn’t want to see someone else fall prey to them - her own child already had nearly done so, and her son had nearly been murdered by them.

”Of course, I’m sure you’re wondering what I get out of this too… let’s just say I’ve been curious to see what a Senju that’s properly trained can really do. I’ve met more than a few in my time, but they were nothing more than Genin and in the infancy of their abilities. I’d like to help you excel past that.” Her words were truthful: her curiosity was her greatest motivation. She didn’t often take students, especially those who were Genin or lower. She preferred those who were seasoned and could more easily handle her training style without complaint. Yet, she was willing to make an exception if it sated her curiosity, and with her husband asking her to do this well… she had even more reason to do so. All she could do was wait and see though if this would work, or if she would end up having to try harder to convince the girl or not.



655 | 1,502

Ibara

Ibara


D-rank
“I’m here to offer you a proposal, actually.”, Ibara's head would tilt slightly and the petals of the bloom upon her cheek would ruffle in the wind. One pale pink eye would meet a steely gray gaze, Ibara's interest sparked by the fact that either this woman did not know her reputation as being rather unsociable or she knew and did not care. From behind where this woman stood, another individual would approach. This time a man, who's presence would draw a glance from this red maned woman before she would offer up the proposal to Ibara. ”I don’t take on many students - but I want to offer up a chance to be trained under me. I’m sure you’ve had your reasons for not being a shinobi, but I’m hoping to change your mind. I think you have a lot of potential, and could go far. If nothing else my training would ensure you could protect yourself properly and better than you can now - which for anyone running a stall is a necessity considering the bandits and thieves around.”

Ibara would listen quietly, letting the words sink in. She had of course trained in the acadamy as a youth, but no recollection of her time there was held in the weak memory of Ibara's life before she had become what she was now. After that her time had been occupied by the simple life and routine that her parents had led before her, maintaining the wonderous garden that they had begun and the stall that profited from the fruits of the aforementioned labor. Becoming a fully fledged shinobi had not been a thought that had even crossed her mind. While manning her stall she had always encountered a great number of shinobi doing their standard trips to the market, frequenting her stall because of the quality of the produce and its healthy qualities. When she would think on the matter she had never considered it a position that she would be suited for, as in her mind she would picture a shinobi to be one with a significant amount of physical prowess. Before she could answer, the man who approached would intrude on the conversation to order a tea of his own. Ibara's brow would furrow slightly, frustrated that this man would interrupt a conversation that could potentially be quite meaningful in her future. Ibara was about to speak when the masculine voice would intrude again, a kindhearted inquiry about the wellbeing of her business but unwelcome by Ibara nonetheless.

Turning to scowl at the man,  though the bright flower upon her face would lessen the effect a scowl might have, Ibara would snap, “Excuse me, can't you see im having a conversation.” Crossing her arms angrily under her chest, she would speak again though her demeanor was visibly more sour now, “That is a very kind offer...” Shuffling her feet, shrugging her shoulders, and letting out a heavy sigh, Ibara would express all the visible indications that she were extremely uncomfortable. A long pause would pass before she would speak up the words,“But I must admit I do not know how to fight. At all.” Looking down at the ground with that scowl still painted across her face, she would avoid the look of the two who stood before. Ibara did not know whether she should be embarrassed about her lack of combat skill, but it was an emotion she felt anyway.

”Of course, I’m sure you’re wondering what I get out of this too… let’s just say I’ve been curious to see what a Senju that’s properly trained can really do. I’ve met more than a few in my time, but they were nothing more than Genin and in the infancy of their abilities. I’d like to help you excel past that.” Properly trained senju? Use of her abilities? That was much more up her alley. Excitement was not an emotion she knew how to express however, and the rush of emotion needed an outlet. That outlet would be an angry quip and direct glare in the direction of that man whom she had taken no notice of rather than his being a bother to her, “I said we are having a conversation. A private one.” She did not like having conversations with most of the population in general, and liked much less having the few conversations she would take part in being spectated.

Turning back to the woman who addressed her she would lose the look of distain,  “As I said, I don't know how to fight. I am however skilled with mokuton chakra. The abilities I believe you mentioned.” Too many emotions were flowing through her, something she was neither used to nor good at subduing. A rush of nerves would make her glance at her feet, and cheeks flush red though only one was visible. “Is that enough?”, those last words were weak, almost pleading that the answer be yes. Perhaps the only bit of weakness she had truly shown to anyone in quite some time. A tough exterior yes, like a fruit with a rind. Hard, unfeeling, petulant exterior, but within soft, and sweet. Perhaps even she had a kind heart within, only wrapped in strangling vines.

893 WC

Daremo




S-rank
Reptilian eyes glanced over to his wife, silently communicating with her his opinion how the meeting was going to go. If Ibara knew who Marici was, her standing within the Shinobi forces,and showed interest in learning again  than the meeting would go off without a hitch. His wife would have a new student, and the council would be pleased that a Senju was not on their active roster. If Ibara was apathy and could care less about learning the shinobi arts then he would just call it a failure, and allow the Senju to be. By the time she learn what the world did to the weak, the invitation to be taught by Marcici, or anyone for that matter, would be long gone. He wasn’t going to waste time on someone who don’t want to learn. Surely the council would be mad, but, there were always others.

He almost snorted in amusement, and made a comment,  when Marici mentioned not taking on many students. He knew exactly why she did not take on many students, it was a combination of them never living up to her standards, and her torturous training, something inherited from his mother. He can’t remember the last time she took on a student who lasted longer than a few days. The shinobi of this generation was not like that of the old. Many of them was too weak-minded, lacking the mental fortitude to withstand punishing training, and ego crushing evaluations. Then there were those who were too full of themselves, believing they did not to be taught by a superior. Yeah, there were reasons why neither of them have students for long.Thus, for Marici to even entertain the notion which he had presented to her was telling.

Automatically, Daremo’s hand went out to squeeze’s Marici’s free hand in a comforting manner. The display of affection would be lost on all of those in the vicinity. But, for the husband and wife, they knew the reason behind it. The mention of bandit and thieves brought back unwanted memories of Zaylee and Mamoru being kidnapped and nearly murdered to the forefront of their minds. His wife wanted to Ibara a chance to not end in a worse situation than their own children. While Zaylee and Mamoru was saved from the Infinity Gang, it did not mean Ibara would be so lucky. At least by learning how to fight, she would stand a chance at defending herself long enough for help to arrival.

Daremo’s citrine eyes gazed at Ibara, noting the scowl that was on her face. She seemingly did not like that he had intruded in a conversation, “My mistake. I’m sorry.”, the words came out as smooth as silk with an unnatural practical ease to them. Meaningfully words to the ears of those, except for Marici, who would pick up on the lack of genuine emotion within them. The words was something practice thousands of times during his years as a Geisha, where he had to placid a guest when something did not go their way. He simply did not care of the girl was angry at him or not.

At her admission not knowing how to fight, Daremo glanced over at Marici, a silent communication going between them. It was surprising to see a genin who admit not knowing how to fight. Many of them believed they were capable fighters who needed no instruction. To see Ibara admit otherwise made Daremo hopefully that she would take his wife’s offer. Thinking of other Senjus his thoughts to those who he knew about. The ones who showed the might of what a Senju could do in the right or wrong hands. Now where would she fall in this matter? His thoughts would be interrupted by Ibara once again directing a glare at him.

While it was amusing to see her riled up over the smallest of things, it was time to finally introduce himself, and see what she does with the information. Though, he would wait until after she spoke to Marici before doing so, “Don’t sell yourself short. Already having skills in the Mokuton is more than most Senjus your age can admit. As my wife said, she does not take on students unless they show some potential. When I ask her to look into Senju Ibara, and try to convince them to become her student, I was surprise that she even agreed to it.” he casually spoke, “Honestly, thought I would have to use my current title as the Raikage to get her to come here, but, I am glad that was not the case. Though, I admit, I was also curious to meet the Senju which the council had been nagging me about.”

Allowing the words to sink in, and for Marici to confirm them, if needed,  he formally introduced himself, “Name’s Kobayashi Daremo. It is nice to finally meet you, Senju Ibara.”

832 | 1559

Marici

Marici


S-rank
It took quite a lot to keep her face straight when Ibara spoke to her husband in such a manner over interrupting them. It wasn’t so much the fact that he was her husband, but rather the fact of his newest position. Of course, there were still few who knew what he looked like as of right now, having been so newly appointed, so mistakes like this were likely to occur. Yet, she still couldn’t help but to wonder how her husband would deal with such. Would it incite his rage? Or would he handle it in a cool and collected manner? Of course, as Marici continued on, with Ibara responding by saying she didn’t know how to fight at all, she found herself about to answer that statement when Ibara mentioned once more to her husband that they were having a private conversation. This was certainly making the whole situation amusing. Yet, her husband seemed to handle it well enough, apologizing for interrupting which caused Marici’s eyebrows to raise in curiosity and interest.

Instead of focusing on the situation between Ibara and Daremo though she instead kept her focus on her hopefully future student. She didn’t mind the girl not knowing how to fight, in fact that worked better in her favor if nothing else. She was very much like her own teacher: she wanted to break people down to the basics and then build them anew, preferably into something far more stronger, tougher, smarter, and faster. This would simply make breaking Ibara of old habits that much more easier. ”You not knowing how to fight is not a problem, that’s what I’m here to do. The fact that you don’t know how to fight works in my favor because it means I’ll have less bad habits to have to break you out of. Most sensei have their own style, and it shows in their students. No offense to some of my colleagues, but not all of them are the brightest bunch of apples.” Ah yes, downright honest Marici, even in front of the Raikage she was willing to speak her mind. It spoke volumes on how she hadn’t changed a bit even with her husbands newest title - she was the same Marici as before, open minded and willing to speak on things she didn’t like without hesitation.

Keeping her attention onto her student a thoughtful look crossed her face. “Your ability to control Mokuton will actually come very much in handy, and works in your favor. I’ll even help you to create your own jutsu, different from those your clan already knows. If done right you could easily poison someone, or fight without even having to lift a finger.” This was only the tip of the iceberg of ideas she had for her student: she was willing to help in any way she could, if for only to sate her own curiosity. It was not often she took an interest in a student, but Ibara was different. While many would have saw the attitude she just threw around as problematic, Marici didn’t. In fact, she was glad to see it. Someone willing to speak her mind? Yes, please. She didn’t want some docile and innocent student, she wanted someone tough and willing to speak her mind, which so far from her interactions with Ibara seemed to be her style.

She would stop speaking though as her husband made it a point to comment on Ibara selling herself short, and Marici found herself nodding in agreement with his words. They were certainly true after all. Then she listened as he pointedly made the connection between himself as her husband, and also the Raikage, a grin spreading across her face: she had been waiting for that, and was curious to see Ibara’s reaction to now knowing exactly who she had just told to butt out of their conversation. ”He’s right of course, I really don’t normally take on students. Nor do students honestly want me as their teacher. I’m demanding, and expect a lot. But it’s always rewarding in the end for those willing to stick with my training. If you’re willing then my training will take you far - and that’s not bragging, it’s the truth. The things I could teach you to do with your abilities will be horrifying to any opponent you face, but it will ultimately do its job of keeping you alive. You’ll be prepared for whatever obstacle you face, and if you find yourself in a position you cannot handle, I will do my duty as your sensei to keep you alive.” Once more the words were brutal but honest: Marici did not believe in sugar coating. Pretending that life wasn’t hard, that shinobi didn’t have a dangerous career path, would do nothing to prepare her or anyone else for that matter for what they were to face. She would rather Ibara be prepared for what was going to happen, and the darkness of the world, than be left unprepared and not ready when that time came.

858 | 2,360

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