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Mitsuo

Mitsuo


S-rank
There was always something that Mitsuo had found charming about the rain and the mist, which he pondered as he walked through the winding streets of Kirigakure no Sato, the Village Hidden in the Mists. Perhaps it was that rain was always romanticised in the stories that people told or the music that they played. He could understand the romantic properties of a kiss in the rain, which was one memory that he held very close to his heart. His first kiss was in the rain, at the front door of the Hyuga compound back in the Hidden Leaf Village with Kimaru Hyuga, the boy he had loved for years. He shook his head at the now painful memory of his dead lover, sighing as he made his way towards a small food stall where he purchased a small piece of fruit. He continued his jaunt through the rain and took a bite of the juicy peach, smiling softly and enjoying the taste of it.

He could still feeling the rain drops falling into his short normally spiked black hair, which was now resting flat against his head as he had decided not to put on his Shroud of Shadows today. There was a constant drip of water making its way down his nose at this point and he was sure that if he still wore glasses they would be soaked and useless at this point as well, though since his eye transplant he hadn’t needed them. The droplets would drip down his nose and ping as they hit his Iwagakure no Sato forehead protector that was wrapped around his neck, the symbol still foreign to him. The oil slicked trench coat that he was wearing managed to stay mostly dry as the rain slid right off of him and back onto the ground on the puddles that he was sure were a permanent fixture of the area. His coat was mostly closed over his black mesh shirt that covered his newly enhanced set of ANBU armour which he was quite attached to. His strap pants had becomes quite wet; especially around the front below the knees where there was no coat to possibly cover them. He was trying not to catch cold but he didn’t quite know how to do such a thing in a place like this. He knew that if he did, though, he would be able to go back to visit with Strafe Aisu again, something that he wouldn’t mind at all.

He decided that he would walk towards one of the indoor pools in the village, just for somewhere to visit as he hadn’t quite explored everything since his arrival. He had an odd feeling though, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was being tailed, in fact he was quite sure of it. He was someone who always knew when he was being followed, and it was something that had served him quite well in the past. He would wait, though, a little bit longer, and just carry on his way…

(513)

Sora1

Sora1


D-rank
The world felt like it was constricting, coiling around the albino's throat and suffocating him with the notion of the lack thereof. Sora was always an energetic, precocious creature. Despite all his talents in Ninjutsu and chakra control, he had always felt hampered in some way, not amused by the doldrums of the academy, being taught the same things that everyone had to know, or with missions he was allowed to take, opponents he was allowed to fight. The boy longed for, craved for something more challenging to push himself further, perhaps to test himself. Maybe he was suicidal, he had often mused, maybe he had some deep self hatred which could only be sated by the fine art of bloodlust. That could be true, though it was probably far more likely that he was something of an existential tourist, going from person to person, feeding off of their emotions and experiences to fill some void inside him, perhaps left by the absence of any real family, or perhaps he was just broken.

He had been out wandering the town in the rain, looking like a sad little vagrant (and he probably was), when he spotted the man he was following. He had heard tale, through the Kirigakure no Sato soldiers who had been posted near his youth hostel, that a foreign sword master had appeared in the city to lend a hand to the village in its time of need. From what he could make of it, the man was tremendously talented with a sword, and probably in many other areas as well. Sora wasn't sure where he was from or exactly where his talents lied, but that really wasn't his concern. One may have surmised, by his interest in the high ranking swordsman, that he sought out the man for training, to be taught how to grow stronger or to hone his skills or learn something new, but one would be wrong. In truth, he was interested not to interact with the man, but to go where he went. Sora had found that the highest ranking of the Shinobi world, those who wield true power, they always find themselves in the right place at the right time. This synchronicity was probably the reason for all of their knowledge and power, they were in the right place, so they got to learn the right ways and they grew stronger for it. Sora figured if he were to follow the foreign sword master, that perhaps he could feed of a little of that same fate.

It had been two days since his first time helping the village in a military capacity, he had ventured into the forest with another Genin and dispatched of some stragglers left behind by a Jounin strike team. It was the first time in a long while that Sora really felt useful, he was able to use his skills the way that he wanted, to use his raw talent the way that felt right to him instead of the way that felt right to those teachers who had tried vehemently to get him to 'apply himself' for all those years (each of which, interestingly, had one by one given up on him) in the academy. It felt refreshing to be rewarded for his skills, instead of scalded for his refusal of structured refinement.

So it came to be that Sora had seen the man walking through the streets alone, wandering the town in the rain. It was a good thing that people in this district didn't know who he was, or else maybe he'd have drawn a little too much attention with people saying hello and stopping him to chat. Really though, he just looked like a wayward youth slowly making his way down the streets, his body wrapped in a black hoodie, boots on his feet and a pair of dark blue jeans. All in all, it wasn't a good day to be tailing somebody. The war had really done a number on the village hidden in the mist, the streets were nearly empty, everyone either too afraid to venture outside, or aiding the village by volunteering in the districts that had been hit hardest by the whole ordeal.

Sora had been tailing the foreigner for about an hour now, keeping a good distance between them and keeping the man within line of sight. He seemed to be acting like a tourist, but Sora knew from what he had heard that the man was involved in the war in some way, so it was probably only a matter of time before something happened. Maybe one of the Seven Bells clan's assassins would come after him, or he would spar with one of Kirigakure no Sato's Sannin or Jounin. Nevertheless, Sora pursued the man relentlessly, hoping that soon something would happen.


{ 805|ELEMENT|1300 }

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