Witnessing Wujing: You can (not) be a shinobi!

His name was Wujing of the Senju Clan and the quest for that precious headband was driving him mad. He needed it, he wished for it more than words could describe, it was the sign that he was a fully fledged shinobi.
He wasn't exactly sure what he was meant to do in the exam, would it be a written test? A test of strength? Perhaps a puzzle! He hadn't a clue but the young Senju was ready for anything. Making his way along the cobbled stone streets of Kirigakure he passed the familiar settings of the item stores, smithy and others only to find his home away from home or rather home away from theatre before him. This was it, his last day of Academy and he was ready for anything. Before entering the bamboo walls that surrounded the academy he stopped for a moment, his tattered flak jacket that was left open waving in the breeze as he took a deep breathe.

"This is it Wujing..." he said to himself looking at the entrance gate and punching his fist into his palm "Time to prove my worth, y'know!" he stated with a cheeky grin as he made his way through the gate with a fire raging inside of him ready for the chance to prove himself as a shinobi. His eyes were on fire, as was his stomach with a force that could only be described us unwavering determination. This was his chance to finally earn that headband and as he made his first step through the gate he couldn't help but mentally take note as his bare feet hit the cobbled stone below making a smacking noise that this was his first step in his path of the shinobi. As he swung his leg once more to step again against the cobbled floors a grin began to form on his pale face widening his thin lips out to show his fanged teeth. The Academy was huge, it's triangular rooftop littered with bamboo tiling that drifted below the breaker made those who looked on it believe they were in another era if not for the ear pieces and technology all about this world. Wujing had always admired the architecture of Kirigakure being an eclectic mix of differing eras but at it's core holding the concept of the mist throughout it all, traditionalistic, practical and functional. It was why you would never see skyscrappers or grand pieces of pointless art but rather a small park in the centre of a city hub or a barricaded willow tree that had stood for hundreds of years.

Finally up the path the young shinobi placed his hands on the red door that was lined thinly with red leather with several golden studs hinged to the tanned oak that comprised of the walls and with some force the door swang gently open creaking and letting light pierce the darkness of the room. Was he early? Surely he was not, but then again this was not the type of event he had every day, perhaps even the absence of anyone was part of the test all together, he knew that once he entered he wouldn't be able to even know what was test and what was simply run of the mill examination behavior and so the little shinobi decided to do what he did best. Lay on his back in the center of the dark room and day dream hoping the examiner may arrive soon.

The boy would enter the room and Yazu's hand would instantly snap to cover the mouth of the woman sitting behind the desk of the academy.  Yazu sat in the chair with his right hand extended over the mouth of the dying instructor.  His left sitting at the desk.  The woman made a muffled attempt at screaming but to no avail.  The thread strengthened hand would clasp tighter.  He looked over the desk at the boy who had just entered, a smile would crease his white face.  The body being not visible behind the desk.

"How can I help you?" Yazu would ask feigning friendliness, the large smile looking slightly menacing.

A smile would find it's way over his pale face as he gazed upon what would be his instructor, a nervous shake in his hands he tried to keep still be focusing on his breathing, although he often relied on it his breathing techniques and yoga were a true part of himself, it kept him centered in a role in which he would have to take lives unlike his parents and because of this his coping techniques always found it's way seeping through the cracks. Before a performance his father would oft breathe in for five and out for five to slow his heart rate before placing a kabuki mask on and so too did Wujing mirror this as he looked across the desk to his instructor breathing deeply in for five allowing air to fill his lungs and allow his heart to slowly stop. It calmed him but not as much as the mask, the mask to him was as much an extension to his present being than he himself was and as he entered the room he placed it upon his face, a small spiralled mask of wood that would allow him to hide aways his face and so too what ever he entended to do. It hid away his pale flesh, his dark eyes, his malnourished body and yet his body concerned him not, thinner than most in which his body looked emancipated entirely, like a surviving orphan.

Looking about the room he took note, several desks placed in an oval about a small section opened for the teacher, A desk placed in the center of that space and a seperate door to the left mirroring that up the tip of the students oval that allowed the teacher to leave seperately. It was an astounding fact and thus the White Mamba of Kirigakure looked to the man standing at the desk, the teacher surely that was assigned to talk to he and thus so one that would interest he completely. "My name is..." he stuttered for a moment trying to figure out what to say, trying to truly figure out what to say exactly to fully get across his point of who or rather what he wants "My name is the Future Sword of the Hidden Mist Wujing and I'm here for my final lesson, y'know!" he reclaimed as he looked to the man behind the desk expressing himself with a rather dramatic pose in which his placed his fist forward and a hand upon the hip. His head cocked to the side as he looked up and down the pale man, as pale as he infact who looked as though he had seen many a battle and smirked, his lips curling into something of an impish pose "And me? Y'know, I'm ready to do whatever it takes to be Kirigakures next swordsmen of the mist, y'know!" he remarked scratching his nose as he said so peering at the instructor with a curious gaze cocking his head to the side and relaxing his body.

What he assumed was the instructor was as pale as he, something he thought quite unusual and hadn't really seen before and yet before him here stood a fellow ghost without a drop of melanin to spare much like the young Senju. "Say...We're not, y'know, related are we?" he asked genuinely curious.

Yazu would look down at the woman who was within his hand, she struggled to no avail to signal the boy.  Yazu would continue listening to what the boy said.  Having introduced himself as Wujing, accompanied by a title. Yazu would roll the sliding chair at the desk back about one meter and would take his left hand and place it on the back of the woman's head, with his right still over her mouth.  He continued looking at the boy never taking his eyes off of him.

With a quick tug, the only thing that could be heard was a popping noise as the old instructor's neck was shattered.  Yazu would drop the woman with a dull thud and would take his place back at the desk, now with both hands on the top.  Most of what had transpired wilful not be visible to the boy, but Yazu went to no great lengths to hide it, so if a glimpse would be caught, that would be beyond the white haired chuunin's ability.

"So you have come to make an attempt at becoming genin, have you?  I am Yazu, nice to meet you.  The normal instructor is......Uh.........indisposed, though I think I can handle her duties for now."  Yazu would state looking at the similarly pale Wujing.

Yazu would then proceed to stand. and then begin speaking, "This will be your "final" lesson, and in the nature of the bloody mist I will make it interesting."  The white haired boy in his mid teens sauntered over to the front of the desk, his white kimono stained with blood.

"Perform the necessary juts to achieve the rank here before me.  If you can do it without faltering you will receive the rank......" a long pause would linger as Yazu fidget ed with the threads that seemed to connect his forearm to the rest of his arm. "However, if you fail..I will kill you where you stand...."

Yazu's signature smile was chiseled on his face having ignored the boys question in regards to relation.

Wiping his nose with his thumb as was the habit of the young Genin he listened intently to the ghostly looking man who seemed to be fumbling with himself beneath the desk. Wujing would have spoken out but he chose not to get between a man and his private time even if that private time was in the presence of a Genin and so he merely focused on the eyes of the man that looked bizarre when staring into. Surely he must have been related, nobody was as pale as he! He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this man than met the eye, not in the sense of a dark chakra or an evil aura but the design and look of the man screamed that he held a rather interesting back story but Wujing wouldn't dwell on such things. Instead his eyes were focused in on those mirrored black and yellow eyes and as the instructor began to stand so too did Wujing adjust his posture and stare the man up and down noticing the blood splatter across the white Kimono. "Hey...You spilled some strawberry jam on ya kimono, y'know!" he stated pointing at the splashes of red that marked the rimming and lower half of the kimono "I know a good dry cleaner, good for stains...especially food stains. You ever eat at the Tetsu Tea House? Place is nuts! Spills galore!" he exclaimed throwing his hand out to the sides with a large smile on his face before realising he was in an exam and so with a quick shake of the head he reformed his posture listening to the instructors words.

"If you fail...I will kill you where you stand"

Those words rang in Wujings head as he gazed at the man, his eyes bulging for a second as he attempted to comprehend just what was said. He would be struck down? This quickly? It was only fair really, a shinobi was only as good as their ability and if he faltered well he wouldn't be a shinobi at all and thus not worth the blood that pumped through his veins. His chin lowered ever so slightly as he looked back to the stain, perhaps it wasn't food, perhaps it was something far worse. The prior student perhaps? How many had come before Wujing? As this went on his fight or flee response kicked in and as per usual this caused Wujing's false sense of bravery to snap to the front of his form, wiping his nose with his thumb one more a smug smile formed across his face "So it's like that, huh?" he stated calmly, almost unervingly calm although inside he was trembling, shaking at the very notion of failure his voice sang out another tale. Could he even be able to take on this man if he struck him? Surely not. No he would be hunted till his last days and unable to escape fate if this was so and thus Wujing prepared himself "Well...Then let me give it my best shot, y'know! I am the White Mamba of Kirigakure, after all!" he stated with a slightly chuckle and began to scan his memory of the homework he had done not three days prior.

There were three techniques that were essential in becoming a genin, the transformation technique which Wujing was quite a fan of, the Replacement Jutsu and finally the clone jutsu. These three Wujing had attempted to master in a short time and although he was not fully proficient he had the spirit to give it his all regardless. The one that worried him almost entirely was that of the Transformation Jutsu. Although it had messed with him psychologically Wujing had trouble recalling the smaller details of things and to make an exact copy could not only cost him his rank but so to his life. "Before I start, y'know, I need to know something." he said calmly looking deep into the eyes, those black voidless eyes with his own lightened blue eyes "What's your name? I mean...You know mine, but...I want to know the name of the ninja who kills me if I fail!" he remarked placing his head high and smiling to the pale man.

Hoping he'd get a response Wujing closed his eyes and took a deep breathe in allowing the air to fill his lungs as he began to feel the swirling sea of chakra in his stomach trying to find the ying and yang chakra that allowed a ninja to manipulate form. Placing his hands in the form of a seal that enabled his body to stabilize and so too his chakra to flow more regularly he allowed the chakra to seep down his legs as he began to mentally repeat a mantra of focus 'Om Mani Padme Hum' he repeated in his mind again and again as he attempted to manipulate said chakra into a clone. In doing so the chakra seeped from his feet and fell towards the ground slithering along as it began to twirl invisible about and about creating a human form. The human form then begining to take the shape of Wujing himself forming and then stabilizing with a large puff of white smoke before the clone stood beside Wujing and smiled to it's creator "Looking good!" Wujing stated to the clone "What's a handsome guy like you doing in a place like this, huh?" he remarked before dissipating the clone. His brow was sweating, he was tense and stressed but the little moments of humor were the only thing that stopped him from completely collapsing and throwing up from fear. He needed to pretend it was a game lest he be paralyzed with fear from the pale man in front of him.


Next came a similar technique, the henge jutsu. He needed to think for a moment who to become, he needed to think of who he could replicate and then it snapped in his head. He didn't need to replicate anything too enormous merely show he COULD replicate somethings appearance and with that he gave something of a laugh smacking his forehead as he again made a similar sign as before, chakra this time spilled down to the balls of his feet and instead of seeping out through the floor would spiral gently around his body giving him something of an invisible suit or a bubble that would pop upon a single hit but would place the false image over himself. That image was of course that of the instructor himself. Peering at the instructor Wujing made a quick note of it all, trying to find the details and in an instant puff replicated the appearance of Yazu. "You wouldn't...strike yourself down, y'know, heh?" he nervously jested as he finally prepared himself for the final technique.

This technique was actually the only one that Wujing felt comfortable with. Taking a moment to let the chakra well up once more the young shinobi allowed the large wave of smoke to eminate out of his wrists and cover his body and in one motion reached outward grasping a chair with one hand and placing himself in the chair's position with a switch. Sitting a top the desk next to Yazu Wujing gave a thumbs up with a smile, panting "How...How was that, y'know?" he stated before closing his eyes and allowing his hands to fall behind his back "If...If I failed...just make sure my body goes back to my folks, y'know?" he remarked smiling softly as he extended his neck ready for a strike with his eyes shut tight as could be.

"Do not test my patience, I am in no way joking.  As I said before my name is Yazu, Yazu of the Bloody Mist.  Now please proceed."  Yazu would say as Wujing would ask for his name following Yazu already having introduced himself.  Yazu was not fond of repeating himself.

As the boy went through the motions of showing him the jutsu, Yazu would nod with each success.  Despite the pressure the boy would most definately be feeling, he performed quite admirably.  Though in a bad mood, he would spare the boy and allow him to pass, provided he succeeds the final portion of the test.  Yazu would walk over to the lockers located in the back of the room where he had stuffed one of the academy students who had witnessed him in his search.  Yazu's never ending quest for power.  

He would reach out his white hand and click the locker open pulling out a bound up bundle with a boy no older than 13 who was currently unconscious.  Yazu would drag the boy over and lay him on the ground in front of Wujing.  With his other hand he would present Wujing a kunai.

"This boy is a genin, in order to keep the balance of strength ever growing, you must kill him and remove his headband.  That headband will be yours. This is the same way I received mine.  Once this is accomplished. you will receive your rank."  Yazu would announce to Wujing with a deadly serious look on his face, Yazu wanted to know whether this boy was willing to do what it took to advance himself within The Bloody Mist.

Wujing's eyes fell dark as he gazed down at the boy. Something felt wrong about this, something felt truly wrong, eerily wrong. "I..I.. cannot." he remarked as he looked to Yazu with concern, his head cocking to the side "He is unconcious...This isn't a fair fight." he remarked as he looked to Yazu's own dark eyes. For a moment he thought deeply about what this meant. This was the headband he sought, the headband he truly wanted and the only way to obtain such a place in the hidden mist. Was this what it meant to be a shinobi? To kill without asking a question like some form of puppet? Grasping the Kunai in hand he began to spin it about "What's his name?" Wujing asked as he kneeled down beside the boy, closing his eyes and breathing deeply he made a promise to himself, within himself whispering words that would brand his very soul. He had to kill so that he might save more in the future but he needed to promise himself here and now he would take the life of this boy only so that he may live a life of a shinobi.

"Yazu of the Mist..." Wujing remarked turning to his instructor with angered eyes, a furrowed brow and tensed eyes as he let loose the Kunai to fly plunging into the throat of the Genin boy. He ensured he locked eyes with the pale man before him, remembering every feature he had, remembering it down to his bones. The kunai flung through and pierced the boys throat causing blood to spray about as Wujing walked over to the shambled corpse grasping the head band around the corpses head and pulling it off in a hard yank. "...So this is the bloody mist's shinobi..." he remarked. In his heart he made a promise to himself, a secret promise, he would live the life of this boy from here on out. He would become what this genin could not. One day he would free the mist from it's blood and he would get revenge for this boy.

Yazu could see the pain and emotion written all over Wujing's expression.  It was not unlike the first time he was asked to take a life, the difference being, that if in the grand scheme of things this boy had never met Yazu, he may never have had to take an innocent life, whereas Yazu was a monster seemingly created in the pits of hell.  Yazu had no other options, this was his design, this was his purpose.

Watching the boy struggle to manage to take snatched the life of a peer was not lost on him.  He however no longer felt the emotions that this boy showed.  Yazu would continue watching, though the smile had disappeared from his face and was now a line across his face.

"You have performed well, Wujing the White Mamba of the mist.  You have hereby passed your genin exam, and as such you are a full fledged shinobi." Yazu would say bowing handing him the blood drenched headband.  

"It is the most difficult thing you will ever do, to take the life of an innocent.  More difficult by far in comparison to killing an enemy.  Now that you have accomplished that you will no longer hesitate in a field of battle, when you are tested.  Hold firm to what you feel now and let it be your guide.  You are now a shinobi of the bloody mist."

Yazu would say these words as solemnly as he could muster.  A small smile would appear when he finished and he would place his hand on the boy's shoulder to offer him some peace.  Then Yazu would exit the building with his head low.

Holding the genin band in his hands the young shinobi simply dropped to his knees looking at the band that laid loosely over his hands. What Yazu had said was true, this was soul damaging, the hardest thing he had ever done and what had he done it for? A headband? He felt a pain...a pain he couldn't describe, like something had been cut out of him. Was he made just for this? Just to make others suffer. Holding the band there in his hand he looked to the boy's dead body. Walking over to it on legs that wobbled like iced jelly he placed his hand underneath the body and slumped it over his shoulder., holding the body against his chest. As he did so tears began to roll down his face, looking into the face of a Genin who had failed he thought for a moment at what had transpired. His mind was racing, this was what Kirigakure No Sato was. This was what the mist was and he hated everything it stood for. This is not what he wanted for his people and thus he knew what he had to do.

"I...don't even know your name." he muttered as he looked to the boy "...My name is Wujing. No...No that boy is gone...Who am I now?" he muttered slinging the corpse over his shoulder and shakingly making his way outside. Pushing the thin door open he moved his way to the small garden that surrounded the Academy and slumped the body onto the grass there. Kneeling beside it for a moment the boy panted, huffing and puffing. As he looked to the boy before screaming out at the sky.

Hushing himself he allowed more sobs and tears to fall as he began to dig with his hands into the ground, making a hole just big enough to hold the body and placing branches and tinder about the hole. Then placing the kunai in the boy's hand and laying the band across the corpses head he used a shuriken and a kunai to spark and thus ignite the small hole. Looking down into it he gave a deep breathe as the body began to burn, black smoke filling the air as the smell of pork hung wafting in the breeze. "I don't even know your god damn name..." he stated hanging his head "...but I know what I have to do now..." Wujing stated as he tensed his fist grasping his kunai firmly in his knuckle as he looked down. He dare not say the next part aloud, instead he made a note in his mind. If what it meant to be a Mist Shinobi was to take the lives of others then he knew which life he would have to take.

"One day...I'll find a way to stop all pain in this world..." he muttered as the body burned. Hours passed with Wujing kneeling beside the body, rain began to fall from the smoke hitting the air and extinguishing the flames, all that was left was the fragments of ash and a rather burned Kunai as well as a rather burned headband. It's shiny luscious metal no longer glistened now charred and scorched with fire Wujing picked it up and while it still burned red hot he pressed the emblem side onto his chest where his heart may reside burning into him the sign of Kirigakure. Screaming out in pain and causing his entire body to tense as he dropped the piece of steel once more "I promise...on this day...I'll find a way to stop the pain of this world." he stated as he slipped both the scorched Kunai into his pocket and the now scorched piece of metal so too walking away from the Academy.