The Path to Understanding [Solo, Mission]

Attempted Missions:

What was the meaning of Fuinjutsu? That strange shinobi art that all seemed to utilize, yet none bothered to understand?

Fuinjutsu wasn’t simply about ink placed upon paper. It was the conveying of meaning. Ideas from human thoughts into the action of chakra. At its core, Fuinjutsu was the art of communication taken to its utmost limit. Through symbolism and meaning, chakra was taught specific instructions. Teaching chakra. It was an absurd concept, really. As much as one could tell fire to only burn specific materials, or instruct lightning to follow a path that isn’t the most direct between two points. Ultimately, it was a precision art based in understanding of the world, that which it is placed upon, and the energies coursing throughout all of the planet. A singular mistake could cause the entire matrix to fail at a crucial moment- or worse, backfire upon the user. While she had never maintained a particular interest in calligraphy as a child, finding it to be a boring art when compared with the rest that the world had to offer, upon devoting herself to this particular branch of ninja arts she had awakened a newfound appreciation for it.

Such clear, concise strokes. Each one, varying in its thickness and heaviness, shows both beauty and restraint. There is only one interpretation that can be found in it. However, it does not force meaning upon the observer, as one would through darker means, but instead does so passively. It is what it is, and its singular meaning is conveyed through its existence. In that sense, it could be said to tangentially relate to the idea of zen. Finding inner peace within oneself, and from peace deriving purpose. It was a humbling thought, Kikuko felt. She had never considered herself a deeply spiritual individual, but some would say that the bond she had developed with the world itself was something bordering a religion. Were they right, or were they wrong? Quite frankly, she didn’t care for the answer. Regardless of what it was called, her feelings would not change.

Flipping the page, she let out a yawn as she rubbed her eyes. Dry reading had never suited her greatly, even when she was in the ninja academy. It wasn’t due to lack of interest, or hatred for the arts. If anything, she had a great respect for authors- those who could create worlds in the mind of readers without ever showing them a single picture. But at the same time, the idea of cloistering herself in a room, of reading but never experiencing, left her with a deep and heavy unsettlement within herself. While the words of those long past were nevertheless valuable and worthy of recording, she felt that those who based their knowledge solely upon records were lacking in a key trait of existence. What was the word for it? It was difficult for her to pin down. Was it vivacity? Liveliness? Energy? No...it slipped her tongue. Or perhaps that was the point? That such a complicated feeling could not be pinned down so easily through the usage of human language.

Another thing that she found strange was the very concept that she wrestled with right now. Today, she focused on a fundamental yet somewhat esoteric subset of Fuinjutsu- the augmentation of seals. Usually, once a seal was set, it was generally agreed upon that tampering with the matrix was a decidedly bad idea. Either you utilized it for its purpose, or disassembled it depending on what it was that you wished to do with the construct. What this text explained, however, was that such things weren’t immutable- that certain instructions could be modified, or changed. While interfering with complex machinery more often than not would cause intricate parts to fail, that didn’t always apply when considering how it was powered. More often than not, through the application of additional accessories, one could augment the amount or intensity of energy that flows into a given mechanism- granting the power needing to function at greater heights than would have been possible otherwise. In this sense, what it was proposing was an additional layer of the seal to be applied in order to deliver additional potency within the given result of a seal. It was almost deceptively simple, if not for the fact that if done wrong the potential for mishap would be that much greater. Really, who had thought of this sort of thing? While she wasn’t the sort of person to judge, she had a feeling that they were either a genius or an idiot. Why not both? She had heard once in a while that the line between sheer artistry and lunacy was that of a single stroke. Those who toed said line often were the greatest of their times.

Learning this delicate art would take trial and error, however. As much as she needed to temper her cautious, that didn’t mean that in exchange she needed to dull her curiosity as well. No. She would experiment in her own ways, little by little, until she eventually came to the desired result. Surely, there was some way that she could learn upon a more basic technique that had fall less chance of error. The Seal of Absorption and its twin the Seal of Direction were both right out- they were far too strong to be tampering with at this sort of experimental stage. The Breath Seal had its own merits, but she wasn’t foolhardy enough to begin tampering with her vascular system so foolheartedly. The basic sealing of storage...hmm. Now, there was a concept. But where could she manage using such a thing in everyday life? Especially when she already had a similar method of transport in her space time manipulating jutsu? Why, it would have to be a situation where she was in need of moving another person’s goods en mass. She would never have need of such a thing, unless.

Wait a minute. She had an idea.

Slowly, her face peeled into a grin. It seemed that today she would kill two birds with one stone.

======

“Good morning Mr. Temujin!” Kikuko walked into the docks with a pep in her step. The tang of sea salt, sand, and fish always energized her in a way that most people tended to regard as strange. Still, how could she help it? While she recognized that it wasn’t a scent that most enjoyed, in the end it was that very scent that reminded her of childhood. Reminded her of home. Every day she came to this place it was like she was that little girl hugging her father’s knee, staring wide eyed at the vast world before her. And in that vision was Mr. Temujin, her father’s long time co-worker and partner- albeit with far less gray hair and a stronger back than now. “I’m here to help with your shopping today!”

“Hmm? Is that you, Kikuko?” Placing down a crate, he would shake his head from side to side in a mock dismissive manner before approaching her with a smile. “Well well. Look at you! With the amount of times that you come back around here for missions, I’m starting to doubt if you really mean to become a ninja. With all the work that you’ve done, you could still be a fisherwoman full time if you tried!”

“Sorry Mr. Temujin, but I’m not interested.” Bounding over to him, she would help him stack the last of the crates into a wagon. They’d likely be brought to the market later, possibly by a shinobi such as herself. If not, they’d have hired help to get the heavy merchandise into the homes of the village soon enough. “And it’s not that I hate fishing, you know? I love it! But I love Ninshu more. Feeling chakra is just right, you know? Whenever I practice it I feel alive in a way that I just can’t put to words. I’ll always love the ocean, but if I want to be happy I have to keep doing this.

A long, pregnant pause. He would look over her appraisingly with those old eyes of his. Eyes that had seen calms, storms, Kage rise and fall. The voice of experience was never something to underestimate, especially a man who had risen to such an advanced age. “Very well, little Kiku. You know I was only testing you.” Clicking his tongue, he would shake his head mirthfully. “Kikuko Hayashi, becoming a ninja. You know, if I had told your father that one day his only child would become a Kunoichi when you were little, he would have laughed his head off! Ah, it’s funny how things work sometimes.” Wiping false tears from the corners of his eyes, he would sigh good naturedly. “Ah, but I can’t complain. You, little lady, just need to keep going on the path that makes you happy. If that means working for this here village, then keep going. Surely you will find the end of what it is you are searching for.”

Honestly, it was a lot to process. Temujin had a habit of doing that- becoming philosophical at the drop of a hat. It wasn’t a particularly bad quality, but it was something that Kikuko had needed to learn to adapt to quickly as a child due to her close proximity to the family friend. “Alright, Mr. Temujin. I’ll make sure to keep it in mind. But first, we need to get your groceries…”

======

“Ah! Do you have any daikon?”

“As a matter of fact, we just received a fresh stock from Fire Country. Have a look!”

“Excellent! As a matter of fact, I think I’ll take five. I’m hosting a cook-out this weekend, would you like to come?”

“Well thank you! As a matter of fact, I’d be delighted. Unfortunately, I’ll need to run the shop around then. Ships are coming from Haven, you see.”

“Ah, no worries. We’ll always have next time.”

Mr. Temujin was always a sociable soul, Kikuko observed. There wasn’t a singular person in Kirigakure who she noted that he had a particularly bad relationship with. Well, besides the ruffians who sometimes would stalk the docks late at night when they got too deep into their cups. She had sworn that he wielded his broom with the force of an angry kami. Where did he get all of that energy at his advanced age? She supposed that it came from a strong spirit. Hopefully, when she became that old, she could maintain the same level of vivacity. Until then, she would simply need to continue living her life as she did in the now.

Taking ahold of the five daikon, as well as several carrots and a three bags of rice, she would roll out a simple little scroll with a mint embroidering. She had always liked the weight of ninja scrolls, although the reason why escaped her even now. Something about them just balanced right in her hand, she found. While she never was able to juggle that well, sometimes if she mentally dozed off she would come back to find herself twirling them between her hands the same way that other shinobi might a kunai. Still, that certainly wasn’t their main purpose. In the case of this particular scroll, it was for storage. Placing all of the objects on top of the matrix rolled within the scroll, she would surge her chakra into the paper with little fanfare. She could feel all the little parts moving inside, clicking, meeting together as they all worked together. Mixed with a singular, new piece she had added- a piece which pumped additional energy into the matrix. Would it cause additional storage space? Faster unloading and reloading speed? Quite frankly she didn’t know, and intended to find out. While some would say that testing out techniques while on a mission was irresponsible, she would argue the opposite. It was within real life situations that one finds obstacles they otherwise wouldn’t anticipate, and from there can effectively grade the true level of usage of each individual technique learned by a shinobi. With that being said...aha! The scroll now held an additional character, but no food. The sealing was a success.

“Come on Mr. Temujin, lets go! We have so many more shops to go visit!”

“Now now Kikuko, there’s no need to rush! Let these old bones finish talking, and we’ll soon be off.”

“Alright! I’ll be waiting outside!”

======

“Okay Kiku. I’ll just have you set down everything-” Temujin would pause, looking back at her once again. Slowly, confusion would spill across his face. “Now wait just a moment, missy. Where are all of my groceries?”

Aha! And this had been the moment she was waiting for. Slowly, a grin would split across her face. From her pocket she manifested not one, not two, but three scrolls. Her ‘employer’ had been so busy with speaking to each of his acquaintances at the market that he had yet to really pay attention to what exactly was happening to each of his purchases- only that she was taking care of it as she had been assigned to do so. Now that she had his full attention, however, it was her time to shine. In a fit of whimsy partially inspired by memories of her friend Saya, she would do a full spin on her heel before responding. Idly, she wondering what Ai and Pinocchio would have had to say about such behavior. Something about same brain cells, no doubt.

“They’re right here, Mr. Temujin!” Showing him the three scrolls in her hand, she would have to keep herself from letting out a little giggle of excitement as an expression of confusion would come across his face. Ah, she certainly had him now.

“Kiku, is this some sort of prank? Or is this a secret ninja joke?”

“It’s neither!” She would declare. “Just watch and learn, Mr. Temujin. You’ll be amazed!”

Rapidly rolling out each of the scrolls upon the ground, she would activate each one in a surge of chakra. Unsealing these was always the easiest among fuinjutsus- which made sense, seeing that its primary purpose was to seal and unseal. A triple burst of smoke would fill the room, before each of the scroll’s contents were unveiled. Rice, vegetables, fish, apples, meats. Temujin really had planned out a large feast, hadn’t he? It made her wonder just how many mouths he was intending to feed, or how he was bankrolling it off of his own wallet. Perhaps there was a community fund she didn’t know about? If there was, she’d need to figure out how to donate it.

“Ah! This is certainly something Kikuko. Is this the brush jutsu you’ve told me about?” Inspecting his goods, Temujin would check each of the items over for any perceived wear and tear. To Kikuko’s relief, it appeared that he found nothing amiss.

“Less about brushes, more about writing! I’m just glad I could help, Mr. Temujin.” Despite herself, she couldn’t help but let just a little bit of pride color her face. Praise was always a thing that she was weak to, and getting it from somebody she respected so much was certainly a rush in of itself. “Please make sure to call on me again if you have anything else you need!”

“I will, little Kikuko, I will. Now go on home, alright? It’s almost lunch, and I heard that your father is making herring.”

Herring? Oh gosh, she’d have to hurry before it was all gone. Time to get back home!

======

“Ms. Hayashi? Is there a Ms. Kikuko Hayashi?”

The voice startled her from her thoughts, buried as she had been in thoughts revolving around the augmentation of fuinjutsu. By the Kami, had the topic occupied a space in her mind these past few days like a termite to wood. It wasn’t as though she hated the fact that she had a new subject upon which to fixate, far from it, but at times it did make it difficult for her to live in the current moment when she was constantly dreaming of new things for her to try out once she finally had the time to test them for herself. Perhaps today she could try augmenting a technique such as the Mark Seal? Perhaps it would create a stronger ‘ping’ upon which sensors could locate more easily? Or would it augment the process in which the seal could be used as an anchor point for future summoning? The possibilities were endless, and yet they were simultaneously zero as long as she sat around and didn’t test any of them. It was maddening, from a certain point of view. At the same time, however, there was the cold and hard truth. As much as she would love to do nothing but play around all day and explore the truths of Ninshu at her own pace, she still had her responsibilities as a kunoichi to attend to. Today, that meant visiting the doctor’s. Who would have thought that she would get paid for visiting a doctor? It was a somewhat strange thought. Wasn’t the idea of going to a doctor that you paid them in exchange for their help? She supposed that it might be the village itself that was paying in this case, as opposed to some other equally confusing set up. Truth be told, the whole situation confused her. Monetary equations often made her head hurt, and as long as she ended up getting something good out of today’s visit then she wouldn’t complain too much.

“That’s me!” Getting up from her seat, she would give a small bow to the nurse waiting in the ajar doorway. “I’ll be right over.”

“Dr. Namai will be waiting for you in room six. Please remove your shoes, we’re going to do some preliminary weighing and measurements.

Weighing? Ack.

======

“Ms. Hayashi, you’re among the healthier of patients we get here at this establishment.” Dr. Namai was an older gentleman in his sixties, although he didn’t seem to show it beyond his graying hair. “While you’d expect ninja to keep themselves in standard shape, you’d be surprised what sort of injuries go unchecked without proper procedures. There are many ninja who sustain injuries during combat and trianing and are unable to recognize as such due to developing pain tolerance. It’s something of a hazard within your field, I’m told.”

Really? Truth be told, she had never heard of such things. Honestly, the idea scared her in a sort of nebulous way. To be harmed, yet unable to tell the difference between ones base start and a fractured one, stunk of a sort of cold disconnection that rattled her in complicated ways. Quietly, she resolved herself to check more thoroughly for any potential injuries she might sustain in the future. It was better for her to keep ahead of such things, after all.

“With that being said, there’s not a whole lot for you and I to talk about. Your blood pressure came back as slightly high, but unless it comes up again it shouldn’t be something to worry too much over. You come from a family of fishers, yes? If possible you may want to introduce more vegetables into your diet as opposed to a primarily pescetarian diet.”

“And on that note, I believe that you and I are done with this visit. Thank you for visiting Kikuko, and please be sure to visit us again if anything comes up. Our doors are always open.”

He was a nice man, Kikuko thought. Still, it unsettled her. Hopefully, there would never be a reason for her to step inside of the building again. Yet the body fails, and eventually everyone requires a helping hand. With any luck, that wouldn’t be until the far future, at least.

“Thank you sir! I’ll be on my way then.” With a deep bow, Kikuko would head out the door and back towards the busy streets. It was getting late now, and the smell of food hung in the air. Back at home, there was fish cooking. Ack. She better eat more pickles, if she knew what was good for her. Oh, the woes of keeping her body in check. Maybe there was some form of seal for it? No, probably not. The last thing she needed was her stomach getting sucked into another dimension. Dinner awaits!

======

The Academy Building of Kirigakure was a place of which Kikuko had made fond memories within. What else possibly could have occurred within? It was here, in these grounds, that she had awakened to the world of Ninshu and the shinobi that dwelled within it. With the aid of instructors and her classmates they had turned her unpolished interest into a desire to learn and develop. Like a raging river that turned rough rocks into a smooth pebble, time and training had helped her shrug off those doubts and insecurities she once had as a child to the functioning kunoichi she once was today. It wasn’t to say that the place was a miracle working machine, but at the same time a majority of her memories here were certainly skewed towards the positive end of the spectrum.

And so it was that when Kikuko was asked to speak here, at the academy, she was ecstatic. In many ways, it was a sort of homecoming for her. While she hadn’t graduated all that long ago, it still felt as though it was a lifetime ago. The her that had graduated the academy, and the her now. They were different people, weren’t they? Was that a bad thing? She didn’t think so. People naturally changed and evolved according to their experiences and time, and ultimately the people who we once were are left behind as we seek the ‘best us’. Hopefully she was a person that her former self could look up to, at least.

What was it that she would speak about? They had opened to the floor to her, in the mission missive, and there was a part of her that was just about stumped. While usually she was quite to speak her mind, this particular incident gave her a pause unlike any other. If she was to speak to the young, the impressionable, she needed to deliver a message that didn’t bring shame upon the village Something inspiring, something powerful. Something-

No, no, no, that wouldn’t do at all. It wasn’t that she disliked the village- in fact, it was the opposite. She loved Kirigakure no Sato with a passion, and it held a dear place in her heart. That’s why she couldn’t just parrot praises to the Mizukage and the village without any thought. If she was to truly connect to these students, to give them the truth of the ninja life, everything that she said today needed to come directly from her heart. Honestly with one hundred percent deliverance, even if it meant that in the end she might end up rambling. They wouldn’t mind, right? Hopefully they wouldn’t. She could feel their eyes upon her, mentally. Watching, waiting, observing. Judging. No, stop that Kikuko. You’ve come too far to let nerves be your undoing here. Breathe in, breathe out. Count to ten. Reach for the door. And let yourself in.

Thirty pairs of eyes stare at her from their desks. No, thirty one. There’s the instructor- a middle aged man she didn’t recognize. Perhaps a newer teacher, or simply one she had never been assigned?

“Ah, I see our guest has arrived.” The teacher would gesture her over, Kikuko stepping to the center of the room as his prompting. Idly, she was aware of the fact that her headband was slightly smudged. Should she have polished it beforehand? Did her breath still smell like this morning’s seaweed? Gah, get ahold of yourself girl! It’s only a bunch of schoolchildren. If they could really smell her breath from this distance, then she had far more pressing issues in the moment. “Class, this is Kikuko Hayashi, a genin of Kirigakure. She’s come today to talk to you all about being a Ninja. Please pay attention, and feel free to ask questions at the end!”

A smattering of agreement. A few whining noises. They were young, she noted. Many wouldn’t graduate for years. But that was okay. “The floor is yours, Hayashi.”

“Right.” Stepping up to the podium proper, she would clear her throat. It was gametime now. “Good morning everyone. My name, as you’ve heard, is Kikuko Hayashi. I’m a kunoichi of Kirigakure no Sato, and I graduated about a year and a half ago from these very halls. Although, well, I’m not sure there’s anywhere else to graduate from.” She shrugs sheepishly. A few laughs. Alright, she’s on a roll. “Your instructor brought me here today to talk to you about being a ninja. With that being said, there’s a lot to go over. For starters, I’ll tell you all a bit about myself. From there, you can ask some questions and we’ll move from there. Does that sound good?”

A vague chorus of agreement. Such was the nature of children in class. It was the best she could hope for, honestly. “Alright! You’ve heard my name, so I won’t bother repeating it for a third time. I was born here in Island Country, and I’ve lived in Kirigakure for as long as I can remember. My mother is a tailor, and my father is a fisherman, so I’m the first ninja in my family as far as I’m aware. I entered the academy when I was around eleven, and I graduated back when I was sixteen. While I’m still a Genin, and I’m not assigned to any three man squad, I work together with other shinobi to carry out local missions for the village.”

An awkward pause. Were these kids really going to stay silent the entire time? If they did, it was going to become awkward incredibly quickly. Finally, deliverance. A raised hand, this one from a short haired boy. “Yes?”
“Why is your headband around your neck? Isn’t that not useful for defence?” Ah.

“Well, that’s mostly a fashion statement.” She scratches her head sheepishly. “When we shinobi are on duty, we’re required to keep our shinobi headbands on our person at all times as proof of identity. While I’d tie it on my forehead if I was on a combat mission, here in the village it would get sweaty if I were to wear it as such for too long. This way I’m able to comply with guidelines but also keep my from being hot. Does that explain things?”

“Are you from a clan, Miss Hayashi?”

“I’m not, actually.” She waggles a finger at this person- a redheaded girl. “I don’t have a bloodline or secret technique to my name. Nobody expected me to become a ninja, honestly. Still, I don’t let it stop me. Sure, the vast majority of ninja are skewed in favor of those who possess bloodline limits, but I don’t use that as a crutch for me being unable to compete against them in the field. As cliche as it is, I just have to put in more hard work to match them if they’re born with that sort of advantage. I won’t let myself be defined by what sort of blood was in my veins when I was born. That would be sad, wouldn’t it?”

A few uncomfortable shifts. Ah, that’s right. A good portion of these kids would be from the clans, wouldn’t they. Whoops. Ah well, it’s something they would need to hear eventually. People who derived their self worth solely from their lineage ultimately were setting themselves up for the ultimate letdown.

“What’s your favorite jutsu?”

“Ah!” Her eyes would light up. “That would be the Summoning Jutsu, hands down. It’s super versatile, and you can gather all sorts of things to your person with it. Anything from your own personal weapons to even some crazy stuff- like giant lucky cats with nails in them!” A few incredulous laughs. It was clear that none of them believed her, but that was fine. She had their interest, and that was all that matters. “Some of you upon graduation will encounter Summon Races- those are sapient animals with whom shinobi can sign Summoning Contracts. If you do that, you’ll be able to summon them to help you in missions so long as you treat them with respect. I, personally, am contracted with the Butterflies.”

“Eh? Butterflies? But those are so tiny! Aren’t they super weak?!” Kikuko would frown at that, rounding at a particularly triangle shaped child.

“As a matter of fact, they’re giant butterflies. But even the ones that are smaller are quite well versed in the shinobi arts, I’ll have you know!” She points a finger at the child. “In fact, you’d probably be hard pressed to even fight one of them. Never ever underestimate a Summon, or you might end up in the hospital!” The child gulped. Uh oh. Did she scare them off? She should cap this session off, before she says something that she regrets.

“A-anyways. There’s lots of stuff that we can cover, but most of that will be covered by your Sensei. So make sure to pay attention to him, okay?” A series of blank nods. “And the most important thing of all...stay true to yourself. You joined this academy of your own volition. Whatever the reason you chose to pursue the path of the shinobi- don’t lose it. So long as you can maintain that compass within you, that reason to be, you will go far. I just know it. And perhaps, some day, you and I will be working side by side. I’ll be looking forward to it, you know.” She beams from ear to ear, and finds that some of them are smiling back. It’s not the full crowd, but it’s fine. In her eyes, this is already a complete win.

To inspire the next generation, and to sow seeds that you will never see bear fruit in your lifetime. Is this what it means, to begin to appreciate ones age? Ah, how the wheel of time continues to turn.

But the day was young, and not yet over for the young Kunoichi. She had yet another appointment, today. One to which she had begun to fear she was growing steadily later to. Oh dear.

======

“You’re late!” Her client, a portly woman and her several sons, clustered around her like pigs around a particularly delicious morsel of slop. “I hired you to be our guide, and that means being punctual! I have half a mind to cancel the contract right now!”

Oh dear. Today would be one of those, wouldn’t it? Kikuko wasn’t the sort to judge off of impressions, but she had heard rumors through the markets of a particularly vain and snooty tradesman’s wife who would be coming through in a few days. More than likely, this was him paying for some sort of entertainment for her. Seriously? Was that all she was considered to be by that sort of person? The thought was mildly infuriating. It was just her luck to be in charge of escorting her through the village. Gosh darnit, you can do this Kiku. Just be a professional, and, well, be calm. Surely she isn’t as bad as she seems at first glance? People are complicated, is all.

“Apologies, ma’am. I was assigned at the Academy for a previous mission, and came as fast as I could.” Before she could even finish a bow, she was already yelling.

“Like I care! When I hire a shinobi, I expect service and speed! And above all, attendance! Now, hurry up and guide us! I’ll be writing up a letter if you aren’t damn thorough with every single aspect!”

Behind her, a few passerby flashed her a look of pity. Internally, she wished she could wave back to them. It seemed that today was going to be a long day.

=======

“As you can see here Ma’am, this is the New Kirigakure Harbor. It may not be far fro It may not be far from where we started, it’s no less important. Here is where we receive all sorts of important materials from far off lands- and export them as well for trade. It isn’t an overstatement to say that here is one of the most important functions of the village.” Alright, here we go. She had done this before, there was a beat to it. She knew her home like the back of her hand, and these were familiar waters to her- both figuratively and literally. Surrounded by those who had grown up with her, who had nurtured her, how could she not feel comfortable? Hopping up onto a stone pillar, she would gain her zen. One breathe. Inhale, exhale-

“As if I’d care about this place! It reeks of fish guts!” She exclaims, waving her arms around wildly. “Trade happens everyone, so what it happens to come in through this particular area? There are a million others just like it, girl. Quite frankly, it’s a waste of my time to stay here for even a minute longer. Next stop on the list, now. Chop chop, girl!”

Oh gosh. She was actually going to lose her cool. No, stop it. Simmer down, Kikuko. Put on a smile, even if you’re not feeling it.

“...Alright! Of course, miss. We’ll be heading to our next destination- the village market. Here in Kirigakure, we pride ourselves on global trade…

=======

The jingling of coins. Laughter, arguing, chatter. Emotions simmer, bubble, boil over. Fortunes are slowly made, over time, through the daily trade and haggle. This may not be a gambling den, but the question is asked in the back of every trader’s mind all the same. ‘Was the gamble I made today worth it’? She didn’t know. Nobody did, for that matter. Even the greatest of investors was at heart, a dreamer placing their fortune upon risk. Patterns can always be broken, odds defied, for better or worse. Still, she did her best to not dwell on it for too long. Focus on the present. The smell of fresh cooked beef, simmering in soy and barbecued. Pickled fish hanging with a thick aroma, being sold in open crates. A florist with their bouquets, enticing young women to perhaps bring home a bundle for themselves. The market was a place of many things, opportunities, people. And, perhaps…

Her hand hovers, pauses. No, no. This wasn’t it. While she had considered buying a small gift for her charges, she eventually decided against it. Quite frankly, it appeared that anything she said or did would be used against her- even gestures of outright kindness. If she was being utterly transparent, then she could admit to herself the truth- that this woman’s behavior was infuriating. The sort of people who commoditize the world itself, turning everyone into that which ‘wastes one’s time’ and that which is ‘worth one’s time’. What a terribly shallow, pitiful way to live.

“Ugh! How revolting. And you sell these? Have you no shame?” Her charge was harassing a local fruit farmer- one who she noted was selling durian. Usually they wouldn’t be allowed within the market proper, due to their stench, but there were special regulations once every few weeks. Of course, that had to coincide with today’s mission. Rolling up her sleeves, she prepared to intercede between her charge and the stall owner seemingly ready to bean her over the head with a rolling pin. Just one more stop in today’s adventure, and it would be over. She was almost done. She could already smell the food at home already- her mother had promised udon. She could do this. She was ready.

Okay, that was a lie. But she sure as hell wished it was true.

======

It could be said that life was a great cycle, beginning with birth and ending with death. Much like the wheel of samsara, we go through our daily activities- the trifles and tribulations that make us what we are. Wakening to the sun, and becoming human once again from the beastly sleep. Fulfilling our tasks, completing our duties, being part of the world. Experiencing, living, growth. And when the sun sets, we slumber- to dream, to rest, to begin once again. We complete the same cycle countless times, never tiring of it. It is simply how we are- beings who are part of the cycle and obey it with steadfastness.

Retrace your steps. Where are you? Have you found yourself in the same place you one were before? Ask yourself- is it truly so bad? Is here, where you are, the end? Or is it simply the beginning of something new? Perhaps you are where you are meant to be. Repetition is memory- and through memory, we define ourselves.

She was wary about this particular destination. While she had considered bringing her charges to the Ninja Academy, or perhaps the Training Facility, ultimately they fell flat. Certainly, they would have fulfilled the purpose, and indeed placated the woman. But it wouldnt satisfy her. They were not places filled with memory. Or rather, filled with that which the woman sought to consume. To absorb, like a hungry caterpillar. Eurgh.

Staring at the statue which she had so meticulously cleaned only hours ago, she couldn’t help but feel a small modicum of pride in it. The previous Mizukage’s armor shone in the sunlight, as though he might spring to life at any moment in defense of the village. Once more, she found herself pondering upon the nature of the Kami within the statue. Were they a benevolent spirit? Warlike? Surely, they were one that held some form of feeling for the village. Love, admiration, protection. Otherwise it would have crumpled away long before.

There was no need to introduce the statue. It was a personal experience- between person and monument. Approach the stone, so full of memories. Admire it, inspect it, approach it. Soon, you will add to it- just as it adds to you. We all effect each other, and are affected in turn. Would she have a legacy as he did, one day? She did not know. Even if she did- such grandeur was a concept greater than her. Still. That sort of thought was for the future, far ahead of the current ‘now’. She simply had to stay here, in the moment. With her charges, beneath the watchful gaze of the great leader. For a few moments longer, they would linger before she brought them to the appropriate lodgings.

For once, the woman was silent. She and her children staring up at the behelmeted visage of Lord Xyxer. Her tongue was still. Not a scathing retort to be heard. And quite frankly, she couldn’t blame her. What more could possibly be said? Here, in the shadow of a hero of legend, nothing could be uttered without fading into utter insignificance.

The shadow of greats casts great and long, even after they are long gone. This she knew, and this she was reminded of today.

======

The night had done much to renew her physically, but her mind was still weary. Another day, another mission. They just kept coming, didn’t they? Why was she being assigned so many in such quick succession? It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help out the village- the opposite, really. But ultimately, the flesh had limits. Limits that she was starting to feel. Still, she had to persevere. She could keep going. Surely her big break was just over the horizon. She could feel it in her bones.

From what she gathered, her target had been hanging around the restaurant district for the last few days. A young man, about a year younger than her, characterized by his short brown hair and constant scowl upon his face. She frowned. Really, it was a terrible thing to be primarily identifiable by your own bad attitude? What did that say about you, really? She hoped that she would never become that sort of a person.

And still, it was an unusual mission. The fact that she had been assigned it was...decidedly surprising? It wasn’t that she would refuse to do so, but rather that she figured these sort of matters would usually be handled by a Chunin or Hunter Ninja- certainly not a ‘lowly genin’ such as herself. In an odd way, didn’t this seem a sort of beratement? They were the same rank! Well, they used to be. From what she had understood, he had quit the services about a month and a half ago.

That in itself, while disappointing, was not something too out of the ordinary. There were those who found that shinobi life wasn’t for then, at times. Sometimes finances would get in the way, and Genin wouldn’t be able to support both themselves and family if they were head of household. Other times, injury would cause a forced retirement- the dangers of being an inexperienced ninja out in the real world. No, leaving the Shinobi forces early was a reality that certainly existed, even if it was somewhat uncommon. What was the issue, however, was the way that he was comporting himself.

It was the sad reality of the world that not all dreams were meant to flower. Whether it be due to ones own fears, factors outside of immediate control, or failure at key parts in ones life- the path to happiness, to fulfillment, was never certain. Sometimes a person would travel down a path only to realize that the destination at the end was not a place that they wanted to be. At these times, that theoretical person had a choice- to leave the path, or to continue onwards regardless of their fears.

But to interfere with those travelling down the path, those who held hearts full of conviction and happiness, and to tear them down? To whisper poison into their ears, twisting their thoughts and pitting their own mind against their heart? To her, that sort of behavior- no that sort of cruelty- could not be tolerated. The purpose of life was to follow ones own heart, to devote oneself towards that which brings happiness and fulfillment within this universe. Whether it be the path of the shinobi or another it did not matter. But to inflict ones own sorry and misery upon others, solely due to their own pain, did not justify them whatsoever. She had to stop herself from balling her hands upon into fists. No, Kikuko. You were better then that. You had to be. You are a shinobi, not a bruiser or ruffian. You’ll handle this the right way.

Still, she had been given a considerable amount of freedom in how this was handled so long as she could guarantee that the incidents would come to a conclusion. And for that, she had a few ideas.

======

Hiruko Nagama. A civilian, born to a wealthy carpenter and his wife. They were from Konohagakure, originally, but had moved to Island Country several years before his birth in search of a better job opportunity. Eventually he had joined the ninja academy and passed the graduation exam. He was a Genin. He would get the recognition he reserved. The praise, the admiration. What he truly received was everything but that.

The constant meniality of everything he did. The pointless missions, the endless requests. Why was he, a Genin of Kirigakure no Sato, being made to weed some old fogey’s garden like a common laborer? Who the heck hired a ninja to take care of some snot nosed kids?! He wanted action- fighting, combat, something he could actually brag about. But each time he was rebuffed. He was too bloodthirsty, too reckless. He needed to learn to temper his resolve first on these missions, to learn a sense of patience that he was sorely lacking. Bah, but that was ridiculous. What the heck did they know?! Those desk jockeys, sitting behind their walls of parchments and oaken desks never saw combat, never understood the sheer thrill of flesh against flesh. If he couldn’t experience that, then what was the point in being a ninja? There was none, obviously. And so he quit- full of disgust and revulsion for the waste of time he had devoted his entire early life to. He would tell them all, the fools who hadn’t figured it out yet. He was doing them a favor, realizing that the entire system was rigged against them.

Honestly, they should be thanking him. Look at all of the good he was doing! He’d managed to get three to have serious doubts about the ridiculous job that they had cornered themselves into, and two that were on the fence. Sure, it was a small number- but it would domino, eventually. Soon, he would visit the academy itself. Teach those little kids the real story about being a ninja. Hah! Whoever gave those sorts of talks must be a real chump. First, though, he was hungry. Best to grab some food along the way.

Ah, the sweet smell of dumplings. Dango. Yep, that’s where he was going. Lunch awaits.

======

Munch, munch, munch. Sweet bean dango- anko, some called it- was truly the best. It went down his throat well, and left an aftertaste that could only be described as the sort of happiness one experiences when taste teeters on the edge of sweetness before toppling into outright sugar. While meat dumplings also had their place, right now this was what he craved. Maybe he would order another plate?

“They’re really good, right? Dango, I mean.” Hmm? Who was that? A curious girl, dressed in a white sundress. She was pretty, he thought- the way that her skin was burnished from time in the sun. The sort of person you figure runs across the sand barefoot, spending lots of time just floating upon the water. Upon her plate was a half eaten stick, as well as a small side plate of sushi.

“A-ah, yeah.” He agreed awkwardly. Damnit, get yourself together. Don’t go spaghetti mode in front of her just because she’s a girl. Be cool, Hiruko. “I actually come here pretty often to eat. The food is really good, so it’s my favorite place. What about you?”

She would shrug good naturedly, but there was no malice in it. “I’ve actually never tried it before. I think I like it, honestly!” Popping another one in her mouth, she would chew it thoroughly before swallowing. “Personally I’m a seafood girl, but there’s something to be said about the classics.”

“Yeah, totally! I get that. I like salmon especially. Sometimes I’ll prepare it for my father if I know he’s working late over at the docks. If there’s too much, I’ll even prepare some for the ninja if there’s extra helpers for the day.” He would narrow his eyes at that remark, before snorting.

“Ninja? Working at a dock? Hah! Serves them right.” Munching noisily on his food, he turns to fully face her. “Ah, err, no offense. It’s just, well. Ninja are just such a big lie, you know? They tell you you’ll be fighting bad guys and working in the service of the village. But you know what? They’re just looking for chumps and reduced pay labor.”

A long, awkward pause. Did he mess it up? Ah, damnit. She-

She held his hand in her own. Confusion lights in his eyes. Did she- did she really feel the same way? Was this his fated moment, right here at this shop? The heavens couldn’t have been more fortuitious. She would be his soulmate. They would rally against the ninja system, and expose them for the lies that they cast over them all. Together-

She removes her hand. For the briefest moment, there’s a black dot of something upon him. Dirt?

“I was waiting for you to show your true colors, Hiruko.” Finishing the last bit of her food, she would straighten up to face him fully. His face paled. Oh, shit. He didn’t tell her his name, that’s for certain. So then how did she know? Why was she here? Suddenly, this felt less like a random encounter that happened upon the street. No, this was almost certainly planned. “You’ve got a lot of hate inside of you, you know that? It’s not good for you.”

“Who the heck are you, lady?” He would rise from his seat, before the hand once again clasped around him. His arm, this time. Firm, yet not too forceful. “I’m not just going to sit here while you’lre being all creepy and cryptic! Let me go! Stop staring at me!”

“Staring at you?” She pauses. “Ah, I suppose I’m staring at you. And so is everyone else, seeing that you’re making a scene. Still, I’d really prefer if you did sit back down. Otherwise things might get worse for you.”

Worse? Was that a threat? There was a part of him that wanted to attack this little slip of a girl. She was close enough that there was no way she’d be able to dodge. And what would she be able to do, really? But at the same time, it was the stare that made him pause. A look that had no doubts about itself. She was going to have him stay, whether he liked it or not. Slowly, carefully, he sat back into his seat.

Why was she looking at him like that? Sure, she had the appearance of a young girl. But there was something inside of it that was anything but. Something analytical, careful, calculating. Like a tiger waiting to pounce at any moment. Or a snake in the grass, smelling out fear and blood. Tasting the water for prey.

“Thank you. I’d really have hated to cause anything bigger than you already have.” Folding her hands into her lap, she would address him fully.

“Now, let’s talk. I’m here today as a messenger, so please don’t hate me too much. Hiruko, it was fine of you to quit the ninja forces. Nobody begrudges you, and your choice was your own. Your opinion about the shinobi forces is also your own, and you’re free to have it. Nobody will stop you. Certainly not me.” Okay then, fine. But why was she here in this case? Why track him down to one of his favorite haunts?

“But you’ve been talking to other Shinobi. Based on your previous movements, it looks like you’ll be moving towards the Academy Students. Affecting the active roster of ninja is already skirting dangerous close to treason Hiruko. But talking to the kids, the next generation? Hiruko, you’re going to end up in prison if you go there. I promise you, this isn’t a threat. The Hunter Nin will take you out, and it’ll be the end of it.” A cold chill went through his body. This wasn’t a threat, he realized. It was a promise. Oh hell, oh shit.

“But that’s only if you come to the Ninja Academy. So really, you have two options. Live with your opinions, and be more discrete. Or throw everything away to satisfy your own ugly rage and desires. The choice is yours.” Rising from her spot, she would bow politely to him before turning away to Hiruko. “Thank you for your time, Hiruko. The choice is yours. Just remember. The eyes of Kirigakure are always watching. Always.” Damn her. She was like a demon. He couldn’t even say anything. It all caught in his throat, congested and fearful and filled with all sorts of nasty emotions. He’d get her, one day. Certainly. But the fear of the Hunter-Nin-

“Excuse me, sir?” He was interrupted by the appearance of a waitress. “Sir, here’s your bill.”

Kami damnit! She had stuck him with her bill!

======

The smell of hot air heated by powerful, incredibly hot lights. Coffee being brewed, passed around. In the sound booth, a crowd of skilled engineers yelled and bickered as they prepared for the next segment. The hosting journalist was yet to be found. He would come once they were on the air, she had been told.

The idea of speaking on the airwaves scared her, truth be told. It wasn’t that she was afraid of crowds, and in fact liked them very much. No, rather it was the lack of audience. The fact that she was speaking, being heard, but couldn’t see their face. What was their reaction? Their feelings? Their emotions? Without being able to see such things, she felt blind and unprepared going into this interview.

No, no. It would be fine. This was a relatively unimportant piece, they had told her. It would be an open and shut sort of interview about local topics, missions, herself. While it was assigned as a B-Rank assignment, that was mostly due to the importance of keeping good public relationships between the shinobi forces and the village proper. So long as she kept her cool and gave sensible answers, she would be alright. Definitely. Totally. She could do this.

Breathe in, breath out. Count to ten. Find the center within yourself. The swirling energy around all things, bundled right now to your heart. Can you feel its flow? How warm it is? How beautiful it is? That is chakra. So long as she stayed in tune with herself, with the energy that gave her life and power to appreciate that around her, she would be okay.

“Ms. Hayashi! You’re on in three minutes. Please sit in the proper area and get ready to broadcast.”

It’s showtime. Ready or not, she would do this. She could do this. She could do this. She could do this.

======

That was almost impossible.

Why her? Of all the times to do a serious discussion and talk about past politics? The (somewhat) freshly minted Genin right out of the academy? She hadn’t even participated in that war! Hells, she had barely even met the Mizukage period! Still, it wasn’t possible for her to run away from the conversation. She was on air, after all, and she was on an official mission. Like it or not, she would need to give the best answer she could.

“Who is the Mizukage?” Well, that was both a simple and complicated question. There was the literal answer, and that was that the Mizukage was a man who ran the village’s operations and conducted military matters of state But the truth was so much deeper, so much more nuanced. The Mizukage was man and symbolism. He was strength, might, power. So long as the Mizukage lived, the image of Kirigakure no Sato’s strength would be felt across the world. His strength was their strength, and his weakness was their weakness. The chain of command would always need to continue, from one leader unto another. That was how Kirigakure maintained its life, its vivacity, its legacy. Buildings fall, the land trembles. But ideas? Ideas can never die in a way that matters.

“Why was the village not informed of the events at the Kage Summit?” The village didn’t need to know, quite frankly. The lives of ninja quite often fall into that of subterfuge and concealment, for the betterment of the village as a whole. She didn’t know a whole lot either, to be honest. But there was one thing that she did know and one thing that she did stress. Kirigakure has always looked after its own. If that meant that certain things needed to be concealed from the village as a whole, then they would do it.

“Is Konohagakure really worth it? Can you really say that it’s right?” No, stop, no. End of question. She won’t answer that on air. Not simply because she’s a Genin of Kirigakure, but because it isn’t her place. Konoha was a pressing and divisive topic among the village, and letting somebody such as her who was so uninformed about the situation give an in depth opinion would only stoke to fuel the flames of discontent among each other. Let those who actually know what they’re talking about debate and press against each other. For the rest of us, there was only one option. To trust in each other, despite our divided opinions. Even if there was things that we could not agree upon, we cannot let that be the final straw.

Kirigakure’s woes are not yet over. The other nations’s eyes are upon us, and they are more scrutinizing than ever. Behind our storm wall we might be safe, but a turtle who hides within its shell forever can never be said to be truly living. When Kirigakure was ready, they would face the world and speak for their actions in the past. But they would need to do it as one. One piece, one village, one destiny. Civilian and ninja side by side, working towards a common goal. True piece might be a pipe dream, but it was a dream she believed in. Wasn’t that worth fighting for?

A disbelieving look from her interviewer. She didn’t care, frankly. It was what she believed in, and what she fought for. Even if that world was ever so distant, she would struggle until she reached it. That was her ninja way.

=====

[exit]
9581 words
Claiming the Following:

Stats:

Retraining:
-Minus 25 Strength
-Plus 25 speed
-Minus 10 Chakra
-Plus 10 Vigor

AP Gain: 30+20+20+10+10+5=95 AP gain

Ryo: 6000+4000+4000+2000+2000+1000= 19000 ryo

Claiming the Following Jutsu: 6750


Gafas [1875/1875]

Chakra Sensory [1500/1500]

One Handed Seals [1500/1500]

Fuinjutsu Amplifier (A-Rank) [1875/1875]

Seal of Protection (B-Rank) [1312/1312]

Lightning Element [1500/1500]
18 remaining words towards Telepathy Seal [435/2500]

Well, that's one way to hit C-Rank. Nicely done!

Approved