Return of the Shinobi (P, Gidyne)

The blows of a hammer pounding on a metal plate could be heard throughout the whole block. Originating from the blacksmith shop where Ichigo was producing those sounds as he was busy creating a suit of armor requested by Maximillian. Not that long ago was the Drunk visited by the little lord who was in need of someone capable of refitting a set of armor which held great emotional value as it used to belong to one of his friends. Ichigo, proud of being the son of a blacksmith, of course agreed to the boy's request. The tattooed man had started a fire and supplied it with a blower to get the temperature up high. He then placed the steel in the fire while he kept an eye on it. Once it turned red he removed it from the fire, placed it on his anvil and changed its shape with a hammer.

Drops of sweat running down his forehead due to the heat being produced. In an attempt to wipe them away he was left with a spot of dirt on his face, similar to those on his white tank top he was wearing. Loosening his grip on the hammer he took a moment to admire the fine piece of work he finished forging. He was sure Maximillian would be pleased with the result. He would then grab the nearest bottle of water to quench his thirst in a means to refresh himself. Not his favorite drink in the world but it would do the trick. As an admirer of a certain liquid called alcohol he knew this job required him to stay sober in order not to mess up. The Drunk started to wonder what the little lord had in mind when he told Ichigo to meet him at the training grounds tomorrow. Obviously it wasn't an invite to a picknick, that much he knew. 

Ichigo remembered what Max said, to see what he was capable of so far. When he thought about it he had to admit it was something even he was curious about. Exactly how far had he come ever since the day he decided to put on his shinobi headband once more? His physical strength was leagues above most people and he knew how to use his fists but he doubted something like that would be the only thing required from the shinobi in the present day. The time they were living in right now was one filled with people of  extraordinary skills, far more talented than he was. It made the tattooed genin wonder if he really had his place amongst them. Cause after all, he was still only a genin. Even though he had already reached the age of twenty-seven he wasn't able to ascend the ranks. 

Taking another sip from his bottle of water he began to wonder what it was that he was missing. Could it simply be a lack of talent, not enough ambition? No, he didn't want to use an excuse like that. The Drunk didn't mind putting in the extra amount of hard work to compensate for his lack of natural born talent. Hard work beats talent when talent fails to work hard. But even it were true, how come he was struggling to keep up? Were the others truly that more gifted than he was? Was the gap between them so big it wouldn't allow him to catch up? Or was it simply a case of bad luck? All questions he had asked himself more than once. Maybe he just didn't believe that he would be more than capable of making a fine shinobi. Or maybe it would be all of the above, who knew? Ichigo would crush the empty bottle between his hands before standing up, taking a look at what was going on in the streets. 

(WC: 641)

The troubled blacksmith’s sudden gaze would witness a spreading plague as the once colorful streets of Kumogakure were stricken with a bleak cloud of perturbation. The environmental tone shift would foreshadow the coming storm: the once lively chatter of the streets dimming to a drowned hush, awkward and compromised body positions carrying a nature of unease with their robotic movements, the mass of bodies once coating every inch of the street paving a new road for the unexpected guest of honor as he walked the common streets on an unexpected visit. The once sunny skies would slowly amass heavy clouds as it aimed to encapture the melancholy below. The leadership of Kumogakure a common topic of anxiety and confusion due to the lack of transparency amongst its people along with the demise that could one day come from their lack of competence, that same mysterious source of fear and inequity would be right before their very eyes as he wore the cloaks of the Raikage.

A different man then the one who conquered the Village long ago though a man nonetheless, the ANBU that guarded the target would provide some form of credibility to his position along with indicating a sense of danger witnessing such a pronounced method of transportation with a high class individual in an average settlement of the village. Gidyne’s own interests were tailored specifically to the documents in his hand as he studied it’s contents while traveling to his destination, a focused and calculated expression coming off his charcoal eyes, the pale skin that flipped the pages only making him a greater anomaly due to his contradicting characteristics.

Shortly he’d arrive before the shop where the blacksmith took refuge, two ANBU guarding the front of the establishment as two more escorted him personally to his person of interest. Once finding his target, the Raikage would keep to his documents for quite some time, expecting the blacksmith to wait before being addressed and if doing so prior simply ignoring him. In time he’d finally partake in an action outside of turning the pages, slowly raising the papers up in front of him to compare the picture he saw and the Blacksmith side-by-side. Witnessing a once promising and upbeat youth compared to a now woeful and distraught older gentleman he’d finally speak, “You’re Ichigo Sato, correct? It’s nice to meet you, my name is Gidyne Rygisae and I’m the 9th Raikage. Hopefully my rather… dramatic entrance didn’t worry you too much, I wasn’t expecting to be received with so much animosity, though that might be the backlash I deserve for sending such an abrasive associate here so long ago - Though I’m getting ahead of myself.”

Gidyne would pass the documents he held over to one of the ANBU beside him as he went to browse the merchandise the blacksmith was creating, taking note of it’s detail and tailoring, “You’ve done fine work here. Definitely something worth being proud of, though I’m sure you already knew that given the clients you receive.” Rising from his position once squatted down to inspect the various tools, he’d come before Ichigo again with a more prompt approach, “Though sadly this isn’t what I’m here for, Ichigo. In fact I have business with you specifically; an inquiry regarding the life you once lived and why that no longer is the case. Tell me, why is it you gave up being a Shinobi in favor of becoming a Blacksmith? The look in your eyes tells me there’s something more to it then your father’s situation, and clearly a Blacksmith of your caliber wields favorable intelligence to keep up as a Shinobi.” The data he received in the profile of Ichigo Sato effective in approaching this predicament, there was something he wished to obtain out of this encounter however knew such a situation would likely require a more delicate approach to successfully install.

His eyes following every movement of those walking the streets in his neighborhood. New faces, familiar faces, all could be found around the block where Sato's Blacksmith was located. As the only son it was Ichigo's duty to take over shop ever since his father fell ill. A slight chuckle escaped his mouth the moment he thought about that single word, duty. What did it even mean? How does one decide on something as complex as responsibility, obligation, commitment? Sure, as a shinobi of Kumogakure his duty lay towards his village, but as a man he was responsible for his family. The Drunk knew all too well there were people who'd think bad of him for abandoning life of a shinobi, but even then deep down inside he knew it was the right thing to do.

Ichigo's mind had wandered off for a second but soon his thoughts were brought back to what was going on in front of him. Commotion had taken place with the sudden arrival of an unexpected guest. A certain form of uneasiness filled the streets, people's gazes were all directed at the same group of individuals. Chills all over his body without even knowing what was going on. Without having the time to even blink, let alone process what was happening two guards had gathered at the front of the shop while two others escorted an interesting looking individual towards the Drunk. "Must be someone of high importance" he muttered to himself, still unaware of what was going on. At this point he doubted they were simply angry customers unhappy with the service they received.

But then it started to become clear. Pale skin, ANBU escorts, a striking cloak. And then, a voice to confirm and a question to answer. "The one and only. Welcome to our humble shop, Lord Raikage. Apologies for the mess." Grabbing some cloth to wipe away the dirt on his hands Ichigo bowed while he listened attentively to the man's words. Mentions about his associate who put on quite the show when he first arrived at the gates of Kumogakure as the cause of the animosity towards him. Ichigo remembered that fated day. Well, part of it since most of the time he was drunk. But still, it left quite the impression. "People need time, I'm sure they'll change their mind, Lord Raikage." Just like the people of the village Gidyne would need time to leave his mark and win the approval of Kumogakure.

"It's one of the few talents I possess, but I doubt you came here just to compliment my craft?" His question hadn't even fully left his lips or the true purpose of Gidyne's visit reached its surface. As expected the day had come where people would come and look for him to find out the reason he abandoned his life as a shinobi. "I suppose not everything is written in those files" the Drunk remarked with an ironic smile. Knowing all too well the moment had arrived where he had to come clean. "While my father's condition isn't an excuse in any way possible, you were right that there is more to it than it looks. Standing before you is a broken man, robbed of his confidence and uncertain he still has a part to play. I'm sorry to disappoint you with a lame answer like this. I'm sure you expected something more honorable but the truth is far less beautiful, but fact of the matter is that it's still the truth. Quite pathetic isn't it? A man my age struggling with something as trivial as confidence." Ichigo could only hope the Raikage didn't expect all of his forces to be the same as the Drunk standing in front of him. 

(WC: 625, TWC: 1266)

[Exit, because for the life of me I can't write a proper post for this topic or even proper exit. I'm sorry just imagine an anbu whispered in his ear and was like ayo we gotta go youre needed and im like 'we'll resume this later'. Sorry about that]

TWC:653

Claim:

653 towards mastered cloak

600 wc for 12 AP

Approved

Also making my exit.

(TWC: 1266)
Claims:
- 1000 to upgrade B-Rank Tank to its A-Rank version
- 12 stats

Approved