Yojo came to a halt as he reached the edge of the lake. He crouched in the cover of the shaded canopy of the treeline surrounding the large body of water. His sharingan scanned the area as he tried to pick up the chakra trail he'd been tracking along the wilderness of Kirigakure. He'd been careful to avoid the main roads, to keep out of what he thought was the sensory range of any hunter-nin. Whilst what he was doing may not necessarily have been illegal per se, it would still be difficult to sell to any shinobi he encountered. "Where are you?" he whispered to himself in thought, narrowing his gaze as he scanned over the lake. It was no good. The chakra signature he'd been tracking had disappeared as it ran across the surface of the water. The ambient water chakra had made scattered and diluted the trail over a wide area, making it impossible for him to continue any further... He had failed.

As that realization set in, and with no other shinobi in sight of his sharingan, Yojo stood up from his cover and let out a yell of frustration and anger. He had been hunting this signature for weeks now, through sleet and snow, through storm and clear skies. The death of the former Hokage seemed to have been a rather uneventful affair to the eyes of the Hidden Leaf village. While the Hokage had brought the nation forwards many years with his innovation of steam power, he was not seen as a 'strong' leader, unlike the former Hastur or Ayakashi. Instead, with his death and the ascension of Lord Takao, a sense of elation had swept over the people. The weak Kage had been killed and been replaced by one who would return them to the glory days. No one seemed too intrested to uncover Rippa's killer, no one had even tried- it disgusted him. A Hokage had been assasinated, and yet no one raised a finger to help. It hurt him in a way tha the couldn't explain... More importantly, the whole thing smelled rotten.

He had to have justice, he had to find the truth.

So, he had left Hi no Kuni. He'd phrased it as a 'leave of absence' to recover from his battle at the Land of Frost. Of course, he'd only truly rest when he was dead. If no one in his village wanted to solve Rippa's murder, then he would do it himself. After analyzing the crime scene, he'd picked up a peculiar chakra signature. With no other leads, he'd followed it out of Konohagakure. Using his knowledge of the murder, and the reports of a Kirigakure shinobi being responsible for the assasination, Yojo headed east. As he neared the coast, the trail had grown strained, but he managed to track it easy enough to the coastal towns. Here though, his luck turned sour. It had occured to him that his suspect could have escaped by using any number of ships to travel to any number of countries. Taking a leap of faith, Yojo traveled to the Land of Water to further test the credibility of a Kiri-nin being responsible. He'd had hope, yet, as he continued to track a chakra signature that seemed close to identical to the original, his luck had finally run out. He was standing on the edge of a peaceful lake, yelling in frustration as the trail had at last run cold.

Continuing his yell, the man picked up a pebble and threw it as far as he could, aiming for the large Torii gate situated near the shoreline. It missed by a wide margin, dropping into the undisturbed water with little fanfare. Dropping onto his bum, Yojo let out a sigh of defeat, his shoulders slumping. He suddenly felt oh so very alone. What the hell was he doing here? Sitting on some isolated shore in the Land of Water pretending to try and think he was some kind of arbiter of justice? Why had he set out on this stupid quest? Why couldn't he just smile and rejoice about the re-ascension of Lord Takao like everyone else had? They were questions eating him up. He couldn't find any good answers to them. His dull golden eyes looked out over the surface of the water, his glaring frown eventually subsiding into a more melancholic and sad expression. He could see the ripples caused by the pebble he'd thrown expand infinitely across the surface of the water, gradually growing weaker as they moved along their horizontal axis.

Sighing, the man focused on the fading ripple with his sharingan. He'd been practicing for years the basics of water style, largely as a hobby realy. He'd always loved the feeling of being underwater, of swimming in the streams of the Land of Fire. The first time he'd attempted it, he'd nearly drowned. The second time, nothing happened. Forcing his will on an element that was inherently shaped by its surroundings and other external factors had seemed easy in his mind. He did it effortlessly with Raiton and Futon. Yet, as he tried to shape and alter the Yang chakra found in the water around him, he'd found nothing but frustration for all of his effort. Even now, as he formed a hand seal meagerly, focusing on the already moving water, his attempt at extending the ripple of water seemed destine for another failure. Yojo put his hands back down at his sides, sitting cross-legged, sighing in resignation, stuck within his own mind... Unaware of the environment around him.

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