A Loser's Redemption

The blue-haired not-Chuunin woke up in a fuss. Oriton's head ached horribly, and he couldn't help but think back to the first time he got wasted with a bunch of friends. He went to push himself off of his bed, but the warm sheets, uncomfortable bed, and the sterile sound wasn't his room.

"Shit," He muttered as he forced himself to get off the bed. His bare feet pressing against the cold floor sent a shiver up his spine. It took him a minute, but he was able to stand upright. His attire consisted of a gown, one given to patients. His mind was a bit of a blur, but as his blood began to pump again and his eyes came back from being dilated, he began to remember it all.

The sudden flash of lights from his opponent, the sudden pain, and the next thing he knew he was waking up here, alone. It was his first Chuunin Exams, the first match, and the first move. Over in half the speed of the blink of an eye. A feeling welled up in his gut, his throat constricted.

Warm tears were a vast contrast to the chilly hospital, a welcome one at that, his only form of comfort in comprehending that he failed — his plan, his motive, and what felt like his dreams.

That moment lost as quickly as it came, "Oriton Senju." 

The boy in question jumped, frantically wiping at his tears with the bottom of his palm, "Yes?" He questioned somewhat worryingly. 

In front of him stood an ANBU, dressed in pitch-black clothing, geared up the ass. The voice module that they possessed didn't allow him any recognition of if they were a male or a female. The figure was still and quiet for a few minutes. Oriton was afraid that steel would come flying down at him at any second.

"The Mizukage wants you to come to him as soon as you can, located at the Hokage Mountains. Get dressed, and head out." And like that, they were gone, their speed too fast to comprehend with his untrained eyes.

Now that he knew the request stated, he wished that a katana had just slit him across his throat. Once again wiping his tears on his gown, he dropped it to the ground and got dressed in his regular attire. He moved to the bathroom and began to wash his hands and face.

A second glance in the mirror and went back to cleaning himself, but then hurriedly looked up again. The boy's pale skin disgraced by a black,  purplish color that surrounded his eye and spread slightly above his eyebrow to his forehead from the hit. Oriton gently brought his fingers up to grace it but hissed in pain as soon as he touched it. That was going to hurt for a while.

The boy continued to dress and once done, began to head towards the Hokage mountain, stopping only at a convenience store to equip a pair of aviator sunglasses. It didn't take Oriton long to reach the destination, but once there, he wasn't sure the exact spot to look.

He slowly began to scan the area.

Standing alone at the greatest precipice of Konohagakure, the silver haired individual, now with bluish streaks running erratically through his mane. Cold, dead eyes gazed over the land he'd conquered with vision almost as refined as an eagles. He picked nothing in particular out from his observation, yet instead.. he merely soaked in the atmosphere of the monument. A silent appreciation for the history of Konohagakure, and the land he had been destined to destroy.

An ANBU operative had been dispatched not too long ago to inform Oriton that the Mizukage requested his presence in a rather solitary area; a steep cliff-face without much room to escape should things turn awry. The boy had suffered a humiliating defeat in front of every nation, perhaps even garnering some laughs from the bemused crowd in how quickly they fall. Perhaps they'd produce ill-thought out plans to turn on Kirigakure.. an unsound belief that they'd ground weak, all because of this single genin. Oriton.

A harsh wind howled through the village on this day, almost threatening to throw the civilians of the village to the floor or against the wall of the nearest store. Perhaps it was merely nature, or the will of Xyxer exceeding his mortal form. After all, some in Kirigakure had started to view the kage as more than a mere man, for his deeds would weigh too heavily on a creature with a conscience. Too gruesome to be an angel, yet not evil enough to be considered a demon by his own people. The Demon had died back in Tengakure, and a more evolved specimen rose from the ashes of the forsaken title.

People could not rally under a demon after all.

Up here, the the leaves rustled as if yielding the failed efforts of sneaking civilian.. failing to play as a shinobi. That's what most people were doing these days, and Xyxer understood that to its fullest extent. They did not take the core principles of shinobi to heart, they believed they were afforded the same rights as a civilian, the same liberal indulgence of being carefree and without worry. They were incredibly wrong, as had been demonstrated innumerable times when the Abysswalker had eviscerated his opponents for little more than a misstep. If they were unwilling to become true shinobi, then they ought to forfeit their will to live, whether they wish to or not.

Footsteps echoing trepidation sounded a relative distance away, yet he knew it was the boy he'd ordered to come here. Nobody else would be so nervous to wander in this area, and fear was something that oozed from a young boys actions. A difficult emotion to hide for it was so powerful. One of the greatest tools in coercion, the boy having perhaps came solely because of the fear of what could happen if he didn't. The wind howled again while the shinobi in a black leather jacket with golden inlays representing tentacles across the hems waited, expecting the courtesies of the boy for he was now in the jaw of a beast.

Oriton felt as if he would've been able to enjoy the wind if not for his long hair, blown back and to the side as he walked. Also, the looming threat of death. That was important as well. It didn't take him long to find Xyxer; the silverish blue hair stood out prominently in Konoha, a place overrun by the color green. Oriton continued to walk towards his Kage. His muscles screamed in protest, night from the fight, but fight or flight instincts. His brain told him to run but also told him to stay cause he'd die either way. Oriton wasn't a trained ninja, fear bled onto his face, and pain erupted from the wound around his eye.

"Mizukage," Oriton said. He dropped to his knees and looked down at the ground. His eyes widened in fright. The visage of his face was one of worry. That happened when you knew that someone could kill you with a single breath. "I'm sorry. I have failed my first exam, my first match. Is that what you have called me here for?"

The boy wouldn't speak out of turn. He could barely have his voice come out at all.

Heavy, tentative plods advanced towards Xyxer and he knew that the boy was finally here. For a moment he was curious how the boy looked after his crushing defeat in the Chuunin Exams, he'd gone down harshly and there'd been concerns for his life until his opponent had the mercy to heal him.. it was an irony of life, perhaps, that Oriton had been saved from the jaws of death only to be engulfed by them once more in the presence of his leader.

Xyxer's hands were clasped behind his lower back, his stance proud and solid. As he was a swordsman, he found a superb posture came only second-nature to him. The trembling footsteps came ever closer before they finally dropped down, almost revealing the burden of weight that was on the conscience of the boy, one that had perhaps accepted the end of his life.

After a short silence with only the rustling of leaves and perhaps even the heavy breaths of Oriton polluting the vicinity, Xyxer offered a reply to the defeated boy. "Rise. Come here, stand with me." He gestured directly down to the position next to him, which would put the two of them immediately at the edge of the head they were standing on with a steep, fatal drop being the only way further forward.

While he waited for the decision of the boy, he started to take note of the ants that were beneath him. Going about their mundane lives in the village that temporarily housed so many different cultures and people. Kirigakure, Kumogakure, Hoshigakure, Konohagakure.. together in one village.. all because the man had decreed it. His power was second to none. The heads he now stood upon held little weight to him, for he was surpassing the entirety of Konohagakure's weak legends and false gods.

Oriton's heart jumped as Xxyer's voice echoed out, threatening the sound of wind. It seemed as if the climate calmed as the Mizukage spoke, splitting straight through the air. The boy stood shakily and walked over to the threatening man, looking over the village of Konoha. Everything seemed calm. The wind blew hard, but citizens still bustled about, tending to their everyday lives. Attending to their children, doing their jobs, enjoying the aspect of life, of living. Maybe this is what Xyxer wanted to show him, how much life went on, how everything worked. All of that could be taken away in an instant, the bottom of the cliff could be his final destination with a little push, maybe a gust of wind.

Oriton didn't want to die.

"Mizukage," He said, looking down towards the village, "Have I disappointed you?"

Once the trembling boy found his place beside Xyxer on the top of the monument, Xyxer's hand moved from his side in a largely telegraphed move to rest on the square of Oriton's back, holding him there firmly should he decide he wanted to move backwards. While this happened the boy seemed to speak out towards him yet Xyxer offered no response to the boy. He'd learnt that the most effective way to get your point across was to allow others to bask in their own anxiety, to wallow in their own imagination of what he could possibly desire from them. In the young boy's case Xyxer knew that he was terrified, it didn't take a scientist to acknowledge that it was taking everything in the boys power to merely obey the orders rather than desecrate himself further before the Kage.

Fortunately, however, the boy was not glancing up at Xyxer as if he was some misshapen orphan wanting to find their new father figure. Instead, his eyes were exactly where they needed to be on the lessers of the village. The civilians of Konohagakure, as well as the shinobi from other villages that squandered throughout the bustling village. It was an entirely different makeup to Kirigakure, something the boy couldn't appreciate while he was so wound up.. yet it was understandable. "Look down at this village, Oriton, and tell me.." He paused for a moment, his own eyes picking up the details of his second village, "What do you see?" His tone was gentle and almost calming if one was unaware of the rumours of the psychopathic Mizukage, no malice nor anger lined his words in a layer of bile-charged venom. Calm, and almost soft, his words flew like delicate doves that still pierced the severity of the wind around them.

The smooth voice mixed with a hidden deadly edge, only able to be done by skilled shinobi. Shinobi that had seen what the world had to give, gone through trials and either succeeded or failed, have seen more blood than the human body can carry a thousand times over. Xyxer didn't seem new to this; if anyone were even aware of his presence, they would know that he was nobody to trifle with, nor to irk. As he stood on the rock formation of the Kages and looked down on the village, Oriton could tell that he didn't find much beauty in it, as if the world owed him itself; strangely, in a non-conceding way. 

His question was ignored once again, doing nothing to calm his nerves. Oriton couldn't tell if his shaking was from the breeze, like a leave taken off a stray in the wind from its tree. Or was it because he was frightened like a puppy abandoned in a river, to swim out or sink on its own. Xyxer's voice knocked him out of his state, and he made a glance to the reason he served as a shinobi. Looking down upon the village again, he frowns, "Konohagakure no Sato, sir. A town with a family diversity, full of busy working people. A nice place to relax in the sun, no cares in the world. A civil society that seems like it could never erupt no matter what the situation."

Oriton wasn't sure if that was what he wanted, but he continued as he spotted every little thing, "Proud shinobi, believing their village to be the best. Cats yawning on fence posts, birds chirping as they head South for the winter, life going on in every separate way that you could imagine to coalesce into one movement." If the situation weren't so tense for the new Genin, he would ask Xyxer himself what he thought, but he stood there.

The height was frightening, to the point where he went to back up a little but found himself unable to budge from the Kage's arm. Oriton took a deep breath, "It's very different from our village, Mizukage."

The boys quaking voice provided a response to the Mizukage, going on about the most generic of details that were afforded to him in the brief moment.. perhaps fear had gripped his mind and shook him of any ability for a deeper analysis, one that would give a greater insight into the people rather than the stories he had heard from a child leaving an impression. Too many times people would go around believing the tales they heard in their youth, how Konohagakure was the powerhouse of the villages and an impenetrable fortress; how could a village bearing the districts of the Uchiha, Hyuuga, and Senju lineage ever fall into a state of weakness? If one was to believe those tales, they never could.

Seeing through the lies and mimicry of others was key to being a shinobi. To see within a situations core to determine the most fulfilling action, or series thereof. "That is why you lost, Oriton." In response to the boy trying to shy backwards, his hand not only stood firm, but even moved further forward from its original position by an inch, threatening to launch the boy into a flightless descent above the village should he continue to squirm.

Life continued to run its grand course all around them, and to witness only the surface level of details was the greatest mistake a shinobi could make. To only make deductions based on tales they'd heard as children, to only come to conclusions based on images others wanted to provide. In this village, at this very moment, was the greatest opportunity for teaching the future of the shinobi world. Lessons that could not be taught in any other situation were vibrant and inviting here, for the combination of the villages provided just enough unrest.

Finally, Xyxer spoke once again to encourage more words from the blue haired boy, "You scratch the surface, yet you don't dare look deeper, to peer into the soul of a man. You were outclassed in that fight, yet like our ancestors that used only spear and flame, you don't have to fail because of it. If you approach fights like a fool, you will be culled like one. Instead, our brethren hunted their stronger, deadlier bestial adversaries until they could travel no longer; run as they might, try as they will.. We always won in the end." Xyxer kept his gaze focused on the movement in the village, not caring too much for the stationary buildings and breathtaking scenic views.

If the boy had still not caught his breath, Xyxer continued further, "Revise what you've just said, and truly tell me what you see. While the light graces my kingdom before you, tell me what truly drives it, what they hope to achieve, the true reason for every village being here. Then, tell me what you did wrong in the exams." The words danced from his mouth as if he was a teacher that truly enjoyed the subject he was teaching, yet perhaps that was not the best thing for the boy next to him.

The blue-haired child looked towards his Kage. That's why he failed? As soon as he had moved to back up, Xyxer threatened a single push, one that would send him plummeting to a sure death. He took a deep breath and stood still; his body wouldn't move forward even if he commanded it to go. Oriton continued to look down as Xyxer spoke, nodding every time he finished a sentence to let him know he was still listening. If he survived this encounter with his Mizukage, then instilled inside him would be great fear for heights. He hadn't been this close to an edge, nor up this high.

At first, he assumed that the man was messing with him, a sick game until he was finally let go to be free, in the afterlife. He was wrong. The way he spoke filled with wisdom, each word meant, and no breath wasted, glee in teaching Oriton about what was happening and why he had failed. The boy clenched his eyes shut, and continued to think. Strip away each layer of skin from the animal, discard the fat, get to the part that mattered.

The people roaming the streets, the shinobi, the animals; none of that mattered. Why had he failed after all? Was it because of the enormous adversities in his way, cause he simply wasn't prepared? Or was it because he didn't know what it meant to be a true shinobi, not only that but one of Kirigakure no Sato.

"I failed because I couldn't see the bigger picture," He muttered, the wind carrying the words to the Kage, "What they hope to achieve, the reason for every village being here? Pride, prestige, a place to show off? It doesn't seem that way when first thought, but maybe I didn't take this as seriously as I should've."

He shook his head, "I'm aware that I could've done better, I should've reached for more. What I did wrong in the exams was my fault. What moves to make, what road to take, which punch to throw, all of that was for waste." A strong feeling lay in his throat as if he was underwater and he couldn't breathe. He wouldn't show weakness now if Xyxer weren't here salty tears would be rolling down his face, the warmth from them taking away by the cold and harsh wind.

Instead, he grits his teeth, "Our village doesn't lose is the problem. Hayate succeeded, Nero succeeded, and I failed. I don't understand what it means to win or lose, nor did I take it seriously. Konoha is strong, yes, but I should've been stronger. Striven for better."

He looked back towards Xyxer, and went to say something but stopped in his tracks. Currently, it wasn't the time for an apology, sorry would only make it worse. Instead, he stood there firm and waited for his response.

Frigid jerks of the boys head sent blue locks sprawling messily over his scalp, aided in their freedom by the wind that continued to whip around them. How fast his poor heart must be beating as the fight or flight response remained unanswered inside of his bruised physique; an uncomfortable feeling for a tense moment, perfect to imprint the lessons the child would need if he was to avoid displaying such weak behaviour as he currently did; the fear and sorrow in his form were as distinct as a glorious peacock fanning its feathers, yet not as pretty nor admirable.

The words that came from him showed a deeper understanding of the situation, one that was seemingly ignored by the boy only a few minutes earlier. How quickly humans seemed to adapt to stressful situations when their life was apparently on the line, it almost brought a smile to the narrowed lips of the Mizukage, yet this situation didn't allow for much humanity to be feigned.

Soon enough the boys words became self-loathing in nature, and perhaps even a tad self-sanctimonious. Did Oriton believe that groveling with his words about how much of a fool he had been, a common jester playing some insidious joke on himself, that this would earn him some credit with the man notoriously without empathy? To be weak was one thing, yet to be negative towards oneself was a quality that defeated many. The phantom hand that grasped the ankle in the depths of the water, submerging the frenzied mind with gradual haste.

Oriton finished rather strongly. He wanted to strive to be better, yet his initial start had irked the man to some extent.. The notion of Kirigakure never losing ridiculous. The boy merely wanted to seem like he understood the way of the shinobi, rather than truly doing so.

A gentle, yet stern force came from behind the blue haired genin a few moments when he finished, ushering him forwards with a light push between his shoulderblades so that he'd be sent off from the safety of the kage head and out into the open air; soar like an eagle or fall like a stone, as he'd always thought when on a high ledge.

Yet, moments off the precipice of past legend and nigh forgotten leaders, Oriton would find his weight suspended in the air with a firm grasp locked onto his wrist. The hand, of course, belonged to the same man that had knocked him off from the monument. He wanted the boy to feel the imminence of true death. To know what it was like to be truly incapable of changing the outcome of what was about to happen. To accept doom was to master it, something the boy clearly had no grasp of. The voice of the Mizukage rose once more, his words as calm as they had always been, "Greatness can come from failure just as much as any success, you learn more from them once you break it down. To wallow in your own sorrow and beat yourself up like an insolent brat is not the way of any Shinobi, let alone an honourable citizen of Kirigakure. You didn't shy from the fight, even if you did taste the bitterness of defeat."

Xyxer continued to hold the boy further away from the ledge, no possibility remaining for him to find sanctity by placing his feet on the stone to steady himself. "Now, once more, analyse this entire situation for me. Tell me what drives people in their core being, what your aspirations truly are, the importance of mortality. Open your heart now, Oriton, or I fear you'll find yourself naught but a crimson blemish at the foothold below." While the man spoke, the wind started to work on lightly swaying the boy around; a toy for the elements, that they would inevitably break should he fail.

Fear was important in shaping a person; if one couldn't operate and deduce under its duress, they were no better than a coward.