Quiet Reflection [Fukuro]

[in between chuunin exam round 1 and two]
Knowing better than to kneel and leave a divot, Hayate crouched next to the final tree, tying off razor wire around its base. With traps like this, it was the details that were important, and the smallest indication could give the whole thing away.  As he finished the knot he took a step backwards, tracing the barely above shin height line with his eyes from tree to tree among the forests edge.  That should be enough of a warning.   His hands fell into the practiced motions, and with three quick handseals the already hard to spot line shimmered slightly, then faded to true invisibility.

The initial task finished, he turned to regard the stream.  In the clearing between the waters edge and the forest trap he just set up, there should be plenty of room to practice.  And he had to admit, the thick konoha foliage make an effective dampener to the sounds of the village, not far away, but still almost unheard.  Most of the sounds were the morning bugs and birds, and the gentle babble of the stream.

He slowly approached the rivers edge.  Before practicing any martial arts, he'd first have to ensure he found his center, the calm he came here for.  And despite, or rather because of, his poor chakra control, he still need to practice that anyway.  He crouched once more, this time at the bank, sticking his hand in the clear water, turning it this way and that, letting the cool flow of liquid push against and break around his hand, enjoying the sensation.  Then he lifted his hand out of the water and rose to stand upright, slowly forming first the bird and then dog handseals.

The clear water he had his hand immersed in previously began to slowly siphon up out of the lake in a tendril, forming a circular base around his feet  and then gently accelerating, rising in height as it sped up.  The combat technique was faster, more violent, but this took more control.  Once it reached a little over his head, the water wrapped in a tight column not even an inch from his stationary body, yet not touching him, spinning rapidly, he triggered the now fully prepared jutsu.  The tight column broke its rigid confines, rapidly expanding around him, spraying in each direction violently.

It was a good start.   He took a fighting stance, and prepared to work through his warm up forms.

Black combat pants rustled as Hayate drove a knee into an imaginary opponents chest, Kunai in hand ready to block any make believe attacks, but before he could follow up by spinning into a low sweep to non existent person's off balanced legs, the "TWANG" of his tripwire being pulled taught and released drew his attention.

A body tumbled out of the treeline onto the ground, landing.... not entirely gracefully. Human, in a Kimono, and apparently completely unaware of him. The back of the sprawled boy boldly proclaimed a large symbol of that damned sharingan clan. Hayate's mind involuntarily flashed back to the moment in his first round fight when that eye took over his vision and then his body temporarily, but as quick as it came the sensation was gone.

He walked over to within a few meters of the boy, spinning the kunai with the ring around his right index finger, watching the boy mutter to himself. When Hayate was noticed, he'd cock his head over to the treeline and speak tersely. "Better watch your step. Tripwire". The wire had a short section visible where the Konoha Ninja had rubbed off the coating, though the visible part was slowly looking shorter and shorter as the chakra infused water crept back along the line, turning it invisible again.

Already making up his mind this wasn't a threat, the blonde genin stopped spinning the kunai and holstered it, watching the other boy. He wasn't sure if this was a clumsy spying attempt or an accidental meeting, but nothing in either trip suggested Konoha had any love for him, so he sure as hell wasn't going to turn his back.

All he had wanted was some peace away from Konoha for a short while. But noooooooo, it had to chase him, even outside its walls.

If Fukuro didn't move to leave within 10 seconds or so, Hayate would continue. "The wire means you're not welcome here." And he'd jerk his thumb toward the treeline, in a "head out" motion.

It was Hayate's turn to arch an eyebrow in amusement at the question posted to him, glancing up at the konoha headband centered on the Uchiha's forehead. "I thought a shinobi would know.  The land of fire is a vassal state of the Mist.  Every tree, every patch of dirt, is used by gracious permission of OUR Mizukage".  He emphasized the "our" to make sure the boy got the point, since he seemed so defiant, that he was also under mist rule.  The smirk that followed the sentence probably didn't help matters.

In fact, it certainly didn't.  A trained swordsman, Hayate couldn't miss the tensing of his opponent as if he was ready to strike.  The smirk slightly soured and Hayate's right hand gradually, nonchalantly drifted down the the hilt protruding from hip as if it was the most natural thing in the world, with no meaning or consequence.

He was receiving the same look he got last visit, the same look he got walking the town, the same look after he cut last years favorite.  The Konoha Hate. Made worse by those arrogant Uchiha, who still thought they were great, still thought they had control, even after being beat as a village and in individual matches. The blind, arrogant hate.  It seemed all this village was capable of.  So much for expecting otherwise, or escaping it for even one morning.....

This wasn't polite, or fun for him anymore.

A note of cold steel, as pure as any forged blade, entered the the Mist genins voice.  "My business is not your concern, LEAF."  He almost spat the last word.  "Didn't your parents teach you any manners? Move along."

And there it was. With a weapon drawn, all emotion and pretense was out the window, and it was business. Hayate didn't tense up, but his body seemed to become still, without idle movement.

"Maybe in the land of fire those are used as toys, but we in the mist dont draw a weapon on another unless we intend to use it." Hayate slid his hilt forward the slightest amount away from the scabbard then stopped, about an inch of steel exposed, shining in contrast with the natural glade. "You have two seconds to put that away, and to run, not walk, out of here. Or i'll show you just how useless your father's teaching were."

A second passed, as both ninja sized each other up in the clearing. The subtle movements of the leaves in the breeze and the water in the stream seemed amplified in contrast to the stillness before a fight.

It was a feeling Hayate knew well at this point, no longer the inexperienced novice. He himself took a steady, deep breath, to see if the rarest of all occurrences, a prudently heeded warning and the swallowing of pride, would take place.

The flicker of Fukuro's blue eyes to the inch of exposed steel on Hayate's blade told him everything he needed to know. A charge followed, with barely the slightest tell to give it away. But at this point, Hayate was on full alert, concentrating on the intricate, unique dance that was each battle, wielding each muscle as if it were its own weapon. (activating Body is a Weapon Jutsu)

The strike came, shoulder height (20 speed), and Hayate sidestepped to the right (175 speed). It was only the slow speed of the attack that stayed Hayate's sword in the sheath, instead of seeing the mist ninja use the rotation of his body to release his grandfathers blade across the genin's chest. He couldn't bring himself to use such an heirloom on this level of attack. Even his senses didn't want to react as if the attack was lethal, and his hand released the weapon, letting it slide back, fully holstered once more.

The first swipe wasn't the end of the attack, though. Fukuro continued his slashing assault, only to have Hayate continue to dance just at the edge of his reach, sidestepping, moving backwards, alternating dodges with sweeping blocks to the forearm, driving the assaulting hand out and away from his body. Hayate's body was reacting almost on autopilot, more like fighting the wooden dummies at the dojo then an actual opponent.

A stab towards the center of Hayate's chest was the last attack in the series the Leaf ninja would get off. The mist ninja accelerated even faster, rolling his left side backwards and pulling his torso almost horizontal in a matrix-like dodge (split second jutsu, 215 speed). While his body rotated backwards and to the left, Hayate's right palm rose at the same incredible speed, slamming into Fukuros wrist, attempting to send the Kunai held in it spinning into the air above the stream.

The rotational energy would be put to good use, as Hayate would continue to spin, his left leg rising as it passed behind him. He leaned into the turn instead of recovering back to forwards, and a spinning reverse kick would slam into Fukuro's solar plexus, sending his body a few meters backwards in the air.

Fukuro would hit the ground for the second time today, followed shortly by the splash of his kunai finally obeying gravity after being lofted so high in the air, coming to rest in the streambed.

He was ready to expect anything, but this? This was the madness that was Konoha. A genin obviously barely out of the academy, not yet ready to fight, wandering in on and attacking a member of Kiri. The town operated on indignation, as if it deserved better, was better than it really was. It disgusted him. He couldn't believe how excited he was for his first trip here, believing the stories were probably exaggerations. Full of naïveté that had slowly, steadily been squashed out of him.


He spoke, not yelling, eyes slightly lowered, with disappointment in his voice. As if he had expected, had almost hoped for better. "There's an order to this world. Everything, everyone has a place. I know right where mine is. Know yours, fallen leaf. Dont get up. There are no second chances for ninja." His eyes would stay fixed on the figure of the boy. He would see this through, one way or the other.




311AP -10 (hidden trinkets) -10 (storms center) -40 (body is a weapon) - 30 split second = 221AP.