The night felt far worse for Taiho than it had in a long time. His body racked with the pain of failure and matched with the exhaustion of depression. His body seemed to gain an insurmountable weight as it lay there beneath the sheets, the cinderblocks of sadness weighing heavily on his limbs and chest. The dim lights of the Konohan sun had finally dipped beneath the horizon, casting his drawn room into completely darkness leaving him just to his thoughts. His matches had completed a few days ago. His exit from the exams themselves dragging his mood further down due to the promise he had made to Taeru to succeed and conquer this challenge. The regret he felt over failing this promise drove his mind deeper into the pits of depression, the darkness of the room swallowing him whole as he lamented his failures. He of course knew that she did not care about that, the young woman seemed less interested with his meager issues and more with his clearly devolving mental health. At times it felt like he was more of a lab rat or a patient than a fellow shinobi of her village.

His musings and feeble attempts to make sense of his woes were put aside as his ears picked up the sounds of the festival. The celebrations and sounds of joy and excitement roused him, the grip of depression still clinging fitfully to his body as he tried desperately to pinpoint the exact location and cause of this excitement. His body however, protested these actions, tripping him as he attempted to step foot out of bed and leaving him in a crumpled mess on the floor at the side of his bed. He was thankful that Shizuka had decided to go out to enjoy the festivities, the young man always seemed to pick up on Taiho’s moods better than Taiho himself, and he didn’t need his young charge doting over him this evening. He continued to lay there, wrapped in a cage of covers and blankets, half of his lithe body still draped over the foam mattress. Looking up at what he could only vaguely guess was the ceiling, he debated going to the festival himself. He knew if Shizuka was around the young boy would drag him out to it. His charge was oddly active for a somewhat sickly boy. It often brought a smile to his face, but with the current turmoil rumbling through his emotions, there seemed to be a distinct lack of said smile.

In any case, he would decide after he woke up again, whenever that would be. It didn’t seem to be anytime soon, considering he had just laid his head back and and closed his eyes to what he considered to be, the bullshit and depression. It would take a few more minutes before his room was entirely silent, the only sounds coming from anything would be the soft snores as he drifted into blissful unconsciousness.

He would awake with a start much later, the sound of music and laughter was damn near deafening to him as he reached over and grabbed the pillow next to his head before throwing it over his face to drown out the sound. He never understood the draw of festivals and the like, considering he had lived his whole life in the service of one nation or another, he was forever bound to his work and his country. He lived for training, breathed work ethic, and consumed knowledge that would better himself. It wasn’t to say he was a dull boy. He had hobbies and fascinations. But if you compared him to the average civilian or hell the average shinobi his age, the differences would be striking. His father always said he had a one track mind, only seeing that which he felt benefitted him the most in his quest to grow ever stronger.

In a way he was reminded of an old legend, the tale of one of the legendary ninja of the village he was now staying in for the duration of the Chuunin Exams. Sasuke Uchiha had been a man of single minded focus. The death of his brother for the destruction of his clan. The man had risked it all to kill his brother. He had abandoned his village, almost killed his best friend on multiple occasions, nearly killed his wife on multiple occasions, and tried to end the world at least once in a fit of misguided rage towards society and the establishment that had in some ways created him.

If Taiho was honest, he fit the man’s story to a tee, even if he in some ways resembled the man’s teammate and friend, Naruto Uzumaki, more. And try as he, his ‘teammates’ and his sensei might, he just couldn’t shake his past, nor his habits. At least not yet, and not completely. In his mind, there was still much to do, much to accomplish, much to atone for, and much to correct. In his mind, history had been written the day he had been effectively kicked out of his home by an invading force of warriors. And then history was written again when those same warriors assaulted him in his new home. Thankfully the shinobi of the village had managed to defeat the ninja in the initial encounter. But the fact of the matter was, he had been attacked twice, and had yet to deliver his own blow to those who had slighted him.

But now that Taiho thought about it, his single minded obsession was one of redemption, one of not only correcting the actions of those that had wronged him, but of correcting history so that it would paint those he cared about in a favorable light. Why should his people suffer under the heel and thumb of those who only wished to extort the natural resources and beauty of his land? Why should future history books label him and his family weak and traitorous to a nation and cause that they did not belong to? It was utter hogwash to think that he would ever serve under the banner of Gelel, the thought that he would answer to the beck and call of an endless warmachine. But if he ever stopped to think about it fully, he would realize that on that day he had been instilled with not only the core values of Hamel: Truth, Justice, Honor, Loyalty, Conviction, and Pride, but he had also been forced to learn some new ones from Gelel: Strength, Self Sufficiency, Respect, and Power.

He now understood the difference between Strength, Power and Respect. Those three had been driven into him particularly hard on both occasions as he looked back at the trials he had to endure. And he would never forget those values, no they would become a new basis for who he was to become. And in a way, it was ironic that new person he was to become would effectively embody the values and persona of the nation that he sought to destroy.

It would take him awhile to finally snap out of this angsty review of his persona. Finally taking the pillow from his face, he sighed and rose up from the floor, the covers untwisting and pooling in a semicircle around his naked body, he would push them off with a quick movement before turning his body to face the window. Rising to grasp the curtains, he’d wrench them wide open, revealing his bare body to the world as the light from the street lights and festival lamps finally streamed into the room from the open passageway, his lightly tanned body finally illuminated by the incandescent rays. Dull red eyes looked over the excitement down below, the fervent festival goers seemingly undeterred by the time of night it was. In fact it seemed as if they only got louder the longer the night went on. It didn’t escape him that if he had won his fight that he would likely be down there celebrating along with everyone else, but he just couldn’t help the melancholy feeling that gripped his chest tight. He struggled to breath as he tore himself away from the sight, resigning himself to socializing even if he would rather drown himself in his bathtub.

A cursory sniff would alert him to the fact he hadn’t showered since the loss. His whole appearance had likely suffered from his depression, he could feel the dirt and grime along his face and hair, and from what he could taste, his breath was likely rancid from his mouth being ignored for several days. Frowning at this feeling of being so unclean, the young male would step over to the bathroom before turning on the shower and cranking the heat as far as it could go. It wouldn’t take long before steam filled the bathroom, slightly obscuring his vision and giving him a reason to drown out his thoughts of self harm as he stepped into the shower itself.

The shower would be long, and thorough. Getting into every crack and crevice. He’d reach between his legs to clean along the strip of skin that existed between his cock, balls and anus, making sure everything was properly cleaned and kept before taking his soap to clean even more thoroughly. He’d also grab a bar of pumice to add in the scrubbing, ensuring that his skin was rubbed raw but sufficiently clean to his own standards. The steam had only thickened as he finally put down the bar and picked up his shampoo. Pouring out a rather large dollop of the cream, he’d begin to lather it deeply into his hair, making sure to cover and wash each multicolored follicle of hair. His dismay at losing his rather long and lustrous hair still stung him heavily. He had always known that Berserk Mode carried with it its own unique disadvantages and dangers, but he never figured that the one side effect that he would care about the most would be the change to his hair. Thankfully the new shade of turquoise green could be stylized to be more fashionable and thus it wasn’t all lost. However losing years of hair growth left behind a pit that he didn’t think would ever be filled.

Opening his mouth to whistle and hum a soft sad tune as he cleaned his hair, he took extra care to make sure that his hair was cleaned to perfection before finally taking the shower head down to change the mode of the spout to spray before rinsing his body of the of the impurities. Because of his hair and the various cracks around his body, it would take him a few minutes to fully rinse himself clean before finally stepping out of the shower to dry himself off. The hotel had provided fairly soft towels considering he was staying at an upscale hotel on his teachers dime. He was thankful that the man had been so confident in his combat ability that the man had paid for him and Shizuka to stay. It was yet another reminder of his failure that he was unable to repay the man’s kindness and attention with victory. He would have to work harder to ensure that he did better next time. He no longer wished for the man to place his life on the line for someone who was apparently too weak to even excel in a competition filled with his ‘peers’.

The drying process would also take a minute or so as he meticulously wicked away all of the excess moisture before wrapping his hair up in the towel. Finally he woud grab his toothbrush and toothpaste, easing the cap off with his pinky before squeezing out a dollap to coat the fine bristles. Frowning at the fact that the mirror was completely fogged over, he would wipe it down to reveal his soft facial features and cute dull blue eyes. It was no wonder that his mind had instinctively dragged him into his ‘killer’ mindset after the thoughts that had preoccupied him earlier, but now that he was out of the shower and thinking fairly clearly, the light and shine began to come back to his eyes revealing the bright and bubbly visage that he showed to people every day. He’d give himself a soft and loving smile as he admired his rather beautiful features. Putting the cap back on the tube, he’d take the object before using it to brush his teeth. Like all of his other actions before, he was meticulous in handling his toothbrush, ensuring that he got every gap and crevice of his mouth. He took extra care to make sure his gums and tongue were properly scrubbed before swishing around the minty paste about to and fro in his mouth. Gargling deeply, he’d grip the sink with both hands before spitting the fluid out into the sink before turning out the spout and rinsing it away.

Leaving the sink running, he’d run a hand underneath the faucet to cup a handful of water before lifting it up to his mouth and pouring it into his mouth. Once again swishing around the liquid a few times to ensure that he got all of the paste out of his mouth, he’d once again grip the sink before spitting into it to remove all of the remaining past from his mouth. Looking up at the mirror, he’d grin and grit his teeth before turning his head from side to side to inspect the gaps between his pearly whites. Seeing what looked to be a tiny fleck of fat left over from his meal last night, he’d reach down and grab a pack of floss before slipping out a strand of the thin wire like material. Looping both ends around a finger, he’d begin to carefully wiggle the tiny strand between the two teeth that the piece of fat was stuck between, careful not to irritate his guns nor slice them with what was effectively a strand of ninja wire that he had placed in his mouth. It was difficult to work and jiggle about the strand to actually collect and pull the piece of fat from between his teeth and gums.

He’d let out a soft grunt of disgust at the offending fat before shimmying the strand up a bit until it was in a safe gap between his teeth before tugging it out completely without it ever once touching his teeth. He would stop to grin and bare his teeth to the mirror again for another close inspection, his pride in his appearance was only matched by his irritation at minor blemishes on his person, and gunk in his teeth could easily be considered a blemish. With a thorough inspection of his mouth complete, and any offending materials taken care of, it was time to manage and maintain the follicles of hair that dotted his face here and there as they attempted to grown in through the majesty of puberty. He knew that he was slowly coming upon the time and age where such changes would begin to take away the assumed femininity of his form. He knew that he would never reach such a hyper masculine form such as the one his father held, but then again that man was really almost a freak of nature in reality. He towered over everyone and everything like a majestic empathetic giant. The man required most of the doors in the nation to be changed so that he could fit his form through them. Of course, he paid for these adjustments as he had been a rather benevolent king to his servants and would never put a price on meeting them at their homes and sharing bread at their tables.

Such thoughts brought a small smile to his face as he thought back to simpler times. His hands dropping from his face to grip the sink as he looked down in the pooling water that was slowly growing from the leaking faucet. The details of his hotel room now becoming hyper focused and yet so irrelevant in contrast to the life he once lived as Hamel’s Crown Prince and Future Guardian. He could see the stark white limestone walls, the material being the key component to much of the buildings in the nation. The nation was always considered incredibly rich due to the lavish architecture it held, however the nation itself didn’t value such frivolous details in the end. Limestone was plentiful on the island, and strong if treated with other materials to make a sort of cement like material that once hardened took an extremely long time to deteriorate and could be considered to be extremely hard to demolish or tear down. It was also relatively easy to shape and mold into bricks to be used for construction and could even be used as a sort of glue between said bricks to keep the whole structure together. Due to it’s rather bright white nature, it also reflected a great deal of light, keeping the nation cool in its rather warm and humid springs and summers.

But atop many of the houses and ornating many of the buildings were caps of gold that shone like beacons in the distance whenever sunlight hit them. The gold itself was ornate and ornamental in nature, never much gold was actually used to accentuate the buildings, usually only marking one particular pillar or entrance as a way of denoting a home or business. Only royal buildings and those of the priesthood could realistically have gold covering most of the limestone pillars and rooftops in their complexes. The gold was also necessary as an added protection for the limestone, ensuring that the buildings wouldn’t erode from the constant rains and fog that frequently came through and covered the nation in dense precipitation. Since gold reacts favorably with water, the Rulers of Hamel didn’t have to worry about their palaces or places of worship slowly falling apart or requiring more maintenance than much other places with a similar climate. Of course only the capital district and some of the surrounding towns could even afford such ornate fixtures like gold caps. The rest of the nation still benefited greatly from the limestone architecture as it meant that their homes for the most part were protected from the elements surrounding them.

Thinking of the buildings reminded him of his training and the reason and purpose behind him becoming a Guardian in the first place. A multitude of faces flashed before his eyes as he retread a path through the capital mentally, the route he would normally take out to the palace parade grounds that was used primarily for military training and organization. The central courtyard was vast, easily taking up a good quarter of the palaces land area by itself. The courtyard was stationed in the center of the palace as it allowed the soldiers barracks to be placed within the surrounding walls, giving them easy access not only to their gear, but also to their commanding officers. It also allowed them to quickly assume defensive positions around the palace itself from any direction as long as said gate was not blocked. This allowed the palace proper to be protected from most threats while also serving as a central location for the rest of the capital.

The Palace was also connected to the Outer Walls by a series of tunnels that had occasional openings throughout the city that allowed the Guardians and Palace Guards to traverse the city quickly without alerting the enemy or the citizens themselves. This defensive network all together gave the capital a sense of security, a sense of peace if you will. Forever protected under the valiant and ever vigilant eye of the Guardians. Blessed with prosperity and happiness. The city and nation of Hamel existed peacefully within its own lands, but that is not to say that it got along with everybody or even itself all of the times. But it was definitely peaceful for the most part as it avoided a good deal of the wars that seemed to plague the mainland greatly.

Pulling himself back to his appearance, Taiho would glance at the mirror and let off a small smile at his now dull blue eyes. It was hard to not slip into his bloodlusted side when he thought of his old home fondly. He could still remember the tangy smell of seawater and limestone against the more hearty aromas of cooked meats and pies. The laughter of his people and hard work they seemingly breathed into the nation in everything they did. It was no wonder he took great pride in the nation itself and the people that inhabited it. He loved his people dearly, he loved every faucet of his society and the fact that it was all wrenched from him in essentially a week tore through his mind, body and soul. His grip of the sink grew to the point it was beginning to crack around the points where his fingers pressed into the porcelain, his eyes flashing dangerously from dull blue to dull red as he attempted to reign in his anger and prevent himself from going over the deep end in a bathroom that only he was currently residing in. Going berserk now would essentially be equivalent to raging out against a fly for all the good explaining it would do.

He’d let out the breath he had held, his grip softening so that it was no longer on the verge of breaking the entire sink to pieces. While he was grateful for his teacher purchasing this hotel room, he was more than certain the man would make him pay for the damages done to it and thus did his best to avoid further damages with his mental recollections. He would return to pulling out the last few hairs that had started to grow in on his jawline, the golden follicles taunting him further with their existence just before they were removed from his person. He would finish this action by grabbing a nearby hand towel and running warm water through it to wet it before wiping down his face softly. Breathing in deeply through the hand towel, he’d drag it softly down his face before staring back at his expression through the mirror, the dull blue returning as his body calmed down from its agitated state. It seemed he would have to take another expedition at this rate. He was still unable to control his rage impulses, though at this point he knew the reason why. Try as he might, he couldn’t escape genetics, and Seiker’s might as well have been born of Ulric’s rage itself for as angry and spiteful that they could be. Luckily he had managed to at least separate the rage itself from the pure urge to harm and mutilate someone. Some semblance of control was necessary if he was to be allowed in Iwa’s forces in any capacity.

Stepping from the bathroom, he’d gather himself mentally and shrug off his towel. The water had finally dried from his form and it was now time to prepare his body for the festivities that were still going off loudly in the background. He’d lay out his red qipao, the flower imprint embroidered in gold before also laying out a pair of black stockings and some underwear. His hair could be ignored for now as he looked for his fragrant lotion, a softer fragrance this time to avoid any unwanted and unsolicited attention. He’d settle for a softer lily fragrance, the smell filling the room as he gently glided his fingertips over his flawless skin. It always amazed him that no matter the injury, unless it was something severe his skin never seemed to blemish. It was what spurned him to work harder, knowing that even with all the hard work he put in, he would never have to worry about looking rough and ragged in his years. He would smile as his fingertips tickled the underside of his knee, a soft giggle escaping his lips as for the small fraction of time he tended to himself, he was able to forget the hardship of the exams, the pain of failure, and the sadness of a lost homeland.

Instead he focused on the other things around him, like the soft fabric of the underwear, pantyhose and garter set he wore. The fabric of the qipao was always exquisite, and easily the best gift he had ever received. It still saddened him that he had not seen Umeko since he had left Iwa. The young woman always brought a smile to his face with her antics and her desire to dress him up in as many pretty clothes as she could find. It was a different pace from Himari, that young woman was far more brash, a bit sexy in Taiho’s tastes if he was honest. The blush that accompanied his face as he thought of his fellow asylum seeker made it clear that the two had more than a few intimate stories between them. She was one of the few aside from Shizuka who had the chance to learn about the real him, the one behind all of the pampering and the posturing. The young man who still struggled emotionally to find out who he was and why he was here in the first place. He just wanted to belong if he was honest, and Iwa had given him that as far as he was concerned but he knew that there was more out there. He had learned all too well recently that the world was just far too large to only have one truth. There were too many mysteries, too many convenient moments for life to be so cut and dry now.

Standing up from his mirror, he’d flatten out the dress before slipping into a pair of black heeled slippers. He still never understood the draw of the shoes but sometimes the made him feel a bit taller so that was all that mattered. He’d gather a few of his things, forgoing bringing his gauntlets for once but still packing a few senbon into the longer sleeve of the dress. He would be silly to travel about in a foreign village without any weapons, but he wasn’t going to just set himself up to be accosted by the local authorities if he didn’t have to. Stepping out of the hotel room, he’d make sure to lock up before tucking the key into a secret place somewhere on his body.

It would only take a minute to reach the busy village streets and immediately he was assaulted from all sides with the sights and sounds of the village in full party mode. It seemed celebrations were in order due to the top four being comprised of entirely Konoha shinobi. The fact struck Taiho deep as he watched all of the happy and gallant faces sharing in the joyous occasion. It was difficult to understand their happiness, how could they celebrate over someone elses defeat, was it just something that had to do with the fact that it was technically a competition? Or was it something more callous? Did the village see themselves so above everyone else that they would celebrate what would only be a logical conclusion? Of course Taiho was overthinking their intentions. The people of the village didn’t care too much about ensuring their dominance over other villages and nations, or rather the common civilian, they were likely celebrating another successful exam with no hiccups, which was apparently pretty rare in the self proclaimed strongest village. It honestly astounded Taiho how often such a village was invaded when he was finally informed on the history of the land.

Stepping away from the hotel, he would merge into the crowds, his mood slowly souring as he further immersed himself in the festivities. Large televisions dotted the streets replaying the various fights of the exams. Some were met with cheers as those who hadn’t had the chance to actually watch the fights themselves crowded around to enjoy the spectacle, while others were met with jeers as one after another, genin from Konoha were kicked out. Of course that made sense to Taiho that such nationalism would be met with such a reaction, but it didn’t leave a good taste in his mouth as he watched his fellow Iwa nin fight for what was effectively entertainment for the ‘enemy’.

His stroll brought him before a set of televisions that held his two final matches up on the screen. Apparently he had been somewhat a highlight for those who were interested in the various contestants. His fight versus Hebiyachi stunned and awed the crowd at his swift movements and moments of physical brilliance as he outmaneuvered the technically superior ninja to score a crucial blow against the boy. The fight versus N’Jobu was met with harsh criticism however due to his apparently loss of mental and emotional control and showed just how unstable he could be. Such a display shamed Taiho greatly, his face turning downward to hide itself from the views of others as he watched himself rage violently against nothing but a wall of indifferent insects. Next was his final fight of the winners bracket, and what he considered the end of his Chuunin exams if he was honest. The talk with Taeru had definitely been a good one, but he just seemingly couldn’t keep it together and nearly received a clearly debilitating blow to his body, however his mental duress didn’t stop there as his last fight showed the mental struggle he had to control himself. Watching himself rage once again against a clearly superior opponent caused Taiho to grip his hand so hard that his chakra unnaturally flared among the crowd, the ill intent as his eyes dulled as his mind drifted showing that it wasn’t just in fights that he failed to control himself.

However before he could snap off in the middle of a crowded street, he would push past mostly stunned civilians, the few shinobi there already keeping a close eye on the emotionally drained young adult. His body carried him far away, closer towards the outskirts of Konoha that he’d like. Sticking to the rooftops once he had gotten a clear enough opening to jump to them, he’d finally stop before a rather large shrine with a red spiral on the front. His heart beating heavily in his chest as his dull red eyes glued themselves to the dirt in front of him. His mind racing as it tried to stick to one thought, one idea, but alas it was nothing but white noise in the end as he frantically attempted to pull himself together. He was foolish for thinking that he was mentally stable enough to actually step out into public. He should have stayed inside, but now he was lost in a foreign village with no one around to him guide him, and he was too mentally drained to actually attempt to find someone. So instead he walked forward, his breaths coming in slow and labored as he pushed past the red flaps to step into the expansive shrine. He ignored the shadowed faces on the wall for now and focused on finding somewhere to sit for now, his primary goal was to steady himself before moving forward and finding out where he was.

Post WC: 5,259
Topic EP WC: 5,259/12,500
EP Gained: 2
Undiscovered WC: 3,000/3,000