Zabi's Rain.(Arrival in Amegakure.)

Wind blows the frozen air and the ideas of a firey dance has already been commited to the waves of the moisture of the atmosphere. Enough of the contents of the shambles of the ninja world that is about to be in reality. Midarou who claims to be "Zabi Okinaga" steps foot on the wet soil with a look in his eyes of acomplishing something, taking his bag with him Zabi walks through the village and looks at the people,"Not much going on here eh?" Of course its the best place for a C ranked missing ninja. "Now where too?" He struts what he got down the village.

A few weeks had passed, Kamuza was awoken in bed from a nightmare he had about dropping in a pit. Once he woke up, he tended to the normal morning activities. Brushing his teeth, taking a shower, getting all his equipment and gear on. And finally the most important meal of the dayl. Enjoying a nice breakfast, after finishing eating Kamuza was in a good mood. He wandered out of his house onto the streets of Amegakure where once again it was raining. He wandered down the streets watching the children pass by until he met one stranger. He had never met before, and from his clothing he was not from Amegakure. Now where were those lazy guards? Fortunately for this boy, Kamuza was in a good mood and didn't want his time illspent. "Excuse me, you aren't from here. Are you?" he would say in a loud voice. With a face that showed no emotion, he would stare at the boy. Then noticing that they were not too far from the Amegakure gates. By this time, Kamuza would've been freezing this boy until his head would turn blue and be suffering from hypothermia. Kamuza stared hard down at this boy, which illsuited his mood. "Speak Boy" he would say. At any moment now, he would be ready to take matters to worse with this boy. If he were to ruin Kamuza's good mood then nothing would stop him from pursing this boy unless a higher man then his rank. With hands at his sides and not at his pockets, he would notice that boy had no headband and was carrying a bag which most likely would have items in it. Waiting for his answer, he would stand there in the cold rain. Waiting..for his move.

[Er, Short]

"Adorable atmosphere isnt it, my friend?" Zabi looks towards the Rain Shinobi not knowing what or why he is addressing him as boy,"Well you read me pretty well." Smiling he bows to the Rain ninja, and looks at him in a way that seemed inviting and comforting,"Hey mind if you show me around? Cause I'm kinda new here? I wanna start a new life if that makes sense?...You can call me Zabi." fixing his posture and moving the crimson hair out of his face he lets out a sigh and holds out his hand."What's your name?"


(Really Short cause Im busy)

Kamuza lets out a hmph when the boy was complemeting the "atmosphere". Most of the metal from the water vapors in the air would rust, and that caused much problems in Amegakure especially. But the young man did complement Kamuza's guess towards him. Generously, the boy had bowed towards him. Kamuza could have drawed his katana and decapitate the boy's head if he wanted too. Once again, fortunately for this boy he was in a good mood. And this boy allowed him to stay in it. "Show you around? I'd like to ask you some questions first...Zabi" he would reply. Even if he was new here, most shinobi would consider him a intruder towards the village. Most of all, he could be a spy and letting him walk on Amegakure grounds could lead to the death of innocent, oblivious people. Using his chakra senses he sensed if anyone was around this area. Of course to make sure that no one was following him, he noticed he could sense from 30 to 50 meters now. Impressive, it seemed Kamuza was improving on his skills. The boy then asked for Kamuza's name, he gave him a false name because he did not trust this boy no matter how inviting or comfortable he looked. "Zakama" he would approach. He noticed how the boy then let out his hand but they were sort of, 5 meters apart. "Well Zabi, follow me. If you wish to make a new life here, you must go through an exam". He would say as he waved his hand towards Zack to follow him to one private building of his own. Once reaching the building he would open the door to a room with nothing but a light from the ceiling, a table, four chairs then a mysterious door at the back wall. "Come in here, and sit down. First, I'd like you to tell me where you exactly came from"

Chakra Senses Lvl2: [1130/1000]

The path and purpose upon which the masked individual currently treks could best be described as aimless wandering, though under the facade of a patrol; shinobi of his caliber often had to engage in such meaningless activities. Clad in the mask of the strangest of sorts, which at some time the boy had acquired through the strangest of means, Paul’s appearance-while not entirely sinister per se-could certainly be described as one of many oddities. As a shield from the cutting frigid breeze, upon the upper portion of his body Paul sports a large sweater with an enormous, goofy heart knitted into it. The young man did not even know where the fuck this garment had come from, but somehow mysteriously, it had spawned in his closet one day. His regular combat boots and a pair of dark jeans cover his lower half, and his backpack tightly hugs his shoulders, providing no extra weight, and thus no burden, due to the simple fact that it is entirely empty. Now, why Paul carried an empty backpack around was unknown, perhaps it was a simple mater of compulsivity; he did not like straying from his daily routine. For a shinobi, the boy is scantily armed, a simple ninjato strapped to his left hip in a lackadaisical manner, though positioned with the hilt facing upwards at the perfect angle to allow a quick draw. 

Over time, or so Paul pondered, the element of stealth became increasingly rare among the ruthless breed of shinobi, and had somehow exchanged itself for bone-breaking maneuvers of the utmost radicalness, to the point where they were somewhat overkill. Albeit Paul kept the now archaic principles of stealth alive, and thus even amidst casual travels, such as the one on which he currently embarked, Paul kept to the shadows. Thus, the route which Paul currently travelled was no doubt one embraced by these shadow, and due to the refractions of the already scant light, in this manner he was thoroughly hidden from sight; or so hidden to those who may be at an angle at which their eyes might not be able to process Paul’s image that is. 

While deeming the tedious ritual of “patrolling” as utterly useless, on occasion, some could prove fruitful. Apparently, such an occasion was just now unraveling, casually strides upon an exchange between a newcomer and a jounin of his own village. The jounin is easily identifiable as one of Paul’s own village, made clear by the apparel which he dons, though the younger boy bears no demarcation of being from the village, and his entrance through the gates only further enflames Paul’s suspicions that he may be a nuke-nin. 

Paul continues to lurk through the shadowy alleyway which masks him from view to the point where he is ten meters away from the jounin-who, unbeknownst to Paul, is called Kamuza-and the other boy-who was apparently called Midarou. Though, the preparation of Paul’s jutsu to come having been formed at the distance of thirty five meters out, this technique is ready to be implemented by the time Paul is within twenty meters of the duo; his arrival just in time to catch Kamuza in the process of interrogating the man as to his whereabouts. 

Now, Midarou is five meters away from Kamuza, thus placing him five meters from Paul at the time which his technique is implemented, and a thick mist engulfs the area in its smothering abyss. Kamuza faces the direction in which Paul is, while he is behind Midarou’s back, though, neither of the two would be able to see them due to the angle at which he is positioned. Likening the layouts of the men in relation to Paul, and their surroundings in general, to that of an analog clock, Paul is positioned at Kamuza’s three o’clock, while at Midarou’s nine o’clock, due to Kamuza being placed slightly adjacent to Midarou. Thus, Kamuza would have to turn his head slightly in order to distinguish Paul’s presence, but even doing so, Paul would remain invisible to him due to the thick mist which Paul has spawned. Though, where has the mist come from? Amegakure no Sato is a village aptly named in the fact that deluges of epic proportions are certainly not uncommon within its confines, such as the one that roars down upon the land now. A constant layer of 3 inches of water lines the streets, which numerous pedestrians and shinobi alike slosh through, while in some areas-due to the topography of the location-puddles reach a depth of up to a foot and a half. Thus, the creation of such mist is made simple, due to the abundant masses of water located throughout. 

The arrival by Paul is timed in a fashion that, at no point, will he be visible to the man known as Kamuza, and clearly not to Midarou either. Corresponding to the exact timing at which the mist takes its effect, another flurry of hand seals flashes across Paul’s hands in a blur, before the five fingertips of his right hand take up a purple glow. Ignorant to the fact that Kamuza, being a shinobi of jounin level, possesses the sublime abilities of the chakra sensing technique, it matters not anyways, for umpteen civilians roam about the area from which Paul himself has just spawned, and Kamuza never having laid eyes upon Paul, the chakra signature approaching Midarou from behind could be just another civilian, as numerous civilians circulate around Kamuza and Midarou as they engage in pleasant discourse. Having no way of knowing the approaching signature is an attacker, the technique will not help Kamuza much. Though, even if he could distinguish between Paul and a civilian, Paul’s speed is greater than Kamuza’s thus placing him at a disadvantage. 

Now, the sensory technique does benefit Paul, for he has already laid eyes upon both Kamuza, and Midarou, and thus is aware that the signatures which embodied their locations are theirs’, and any movement of these signatures would correspond to the movements of the two of them. Paul’s ever active Silent Steps skill carries him across the surface of the water noiselessly, as it is being used in combination with the surface walking technique, and thus the minuscule distance between Paul and Midarou will be enclosed in the smallest intervals of time, but also with the utmost stealth. Now, even if Kamuza could sense or see Paul, or distinguish him through any method, Paul has both the advantage of speed, and the element of surprise; Kamuza, being caught off guard, would surely not be able to instantly snap into a state of mind in which he would be able to counter such a maneuver so flawlessly, not to mention Paul could abridge the distance between himself and Midarou far before Kamuza could abridge the distance between the two. 

Upon reaching Midarou, still cloaked in the mist and having completed his small and silent voyage, Paul’s right hand thrusts out towards the back of the boy’s back; this target being located through sensory skills alone. The unsuspecting, and far slower boy, if hit, will be rendered unconscious, and unable to use a single ounce of his chakra, and thus sent plummeting face first into the two inch deep water beneath him. As this maneuver occurs, Paul’s left hand clutches the hilt of his ninjato, ready to draw the blade from the side which it is on in a powerful uppercut should the need arise. 

Should Paul have to take on Kamuza, his ally, then he should, for Kamuza is the reason why Paul has had to get involved in the first place. The slightly retarded village jounin was clearly unaware of village procedure as it pertained to missing-nin, and one did not simply allow them to waltz into the village without a care in the world. The man should certainly know better. As lazy, unmotivated, and apathetic as Paul is, even he will not allow some little shit to waltz into his village unaccounted for, and potentially wreak great amounts of havoc upon Paul’s home. Having no respect, nor reverence for people with an intelligence quotient beneath that of a genetically defective turnip, Paul would really feel no remorse in kicking his village-mate’s ass.

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