Taking some initiative [Nobo]

The lad had some stones, that much was sure. Once commanded to get into the coffin, he hesitated, but Yoko stayed impassive, a statue wrapped in cloth and porcelain, but soon enough the Nara would enter the coffin and pull the lid over himself. Yoko jumped into the grave. “Don’t move, dead man.” On her one hand, six common six inch smooth shank nails, on the other, the hammer she had been using before. Thump, thump, THUMP, went once, twice, six times, all around the corners and twice in the middle of the length of the coffin’s lid. She jumped back up, and bowed her head in reverence.

“Here lies Ryuuzaki Nara, chunin of the Kumogakure. Though his death was a violent one, no one will ever know for sure. Though he sacrificed his life for the Kumogakure, no one will ever feel grateful for it. Much as his loved ones would like to mourn over his body, it was never recovered. He gave himself selflessly, not for honor, not for glory, but for his village.Here lies Ryuuzaki Nara. May he rest in peace.”

If Ryuuzaki didn’t panic until now, Yoko would take the shovel, and start shovelling spadefuls of dirt onto the casket. She kept her hears pricked for sounds that could be coming from the coffin. Shovel after shovel, she picked up pace, the dirt cascading almost like a waterfall. Full swathes would send vast amounts of dirt onto the now filling grave, until a mound of dirt indicated all the dirt now covered the grave and coffin. She patted down the earth.

She then took a few steps back, and observed with her Byakugan, waiting for Ryuuzaki’s reaction, patient. She wondered how long it would take before he acted.

As a hawk peering at prey did the lilac Byakugan peer through the earth, still soft from when it was broken, but slowly settling into its new position, at the young man within the coffin, adjusting to his new position in life. Given the size of the coffin and the lad, she estimated he had about half an hour before he ran out of oxygen.

It had been quite a while since Ryuuzaki had been under. Yoko would disable her Byakugan from time to time and raise her eyes to the night sky, observing the passing of time as the stars shifted through the heavens, pondering on her own trials so long ago. The ritual had but one objective: to indoctrinate one onto the organization, create a sense of belonging, mold their perspective to become more receptive to their new position and demands. It had been maybe two or three years since Gale inducted her, and now she inducted Ryuuzaki.

Thumping could be heard from underneath the ground, and she tilted her head down enabling her Byakugan. The thumping was the consequence of Ryuuzaki’s one inch punches, which broke the coffin quick and easy, before burrowing his way out of his early grave. She observed placidly, as if she sat in a movie theater, completely detached from reality. Covered in fresh dirt which stuck to the sweat of his skin, Ryuuzaki lamented that his will to live was stronger than his loyalty to the village. “Suffocation is one of the worst ways the common person can die. But if we wanted to test your will to live, we would’ve tried to drown you. This was about something else.”

She pointed to the grave from her seated position, her hand lazily pointing over her crossed legs. “That grave is where you have been buried. You are no longer Ryuuzaki Nara of the Kumogakure. You are a dead man. Your loyalty is now to the Storm Ops, to serve those who are worthy of the title of Raikage, for the benefit of the Hidden Cloud, but also the benefit of the Lightning Country. Dead men have no self-preservation instincts, no wishes, no dreams. No affiliations, and leave no trace. If you’re caught in the future, we will deny your existence and intentions. If you succeed in your tasks, no one will know of it to thank you for your sacrifices.”

“Or not. It’s not up to us to dictate your decisions. But if you agree to all that, visit the Lord Raikage on his office tomorrow to retrieve your enhanced armor, and wear a black band on your left arm. When he asks what it’s for, inform him you’re mourning for the loss of a close friend if you wish to pursue this thankless career.”

With that, she got up from her seat, and started walking away. No further comment would be made towards Ryuuzaki if he addressed her.

***

In the morning, if Ryuuzaki visited, Rei would inform him the Raikage was waiting, and that he could enter whenever he wished.

In wide strides did the Nara walk into his office, a sight for sore eyes. Noboru wasn’t privy to the details of the trial the Nara had endured, but he knew there was a couple more steps to the process that had to be respected, and seeing the band on the youth’s arm was one of those steps. He was glad.

“Ah, Ryuuzaki, welcome. Come, sit.” He waved his arm invitingly, before pointing to the couch. Ryuuzaki would see the tall pillar next to the Raikage, hidden by a tarp of sorts. “You know, when I left here yesterday, I went straight to the works and started processing the materials you gave me. Meteoric iron takes an absurd amount of time to melt and treat, and even more time to pound into a workable shape, ruined a handful of hammers against it, but it is well worth it, let me tell you.” He spoke excitedly, he had a passion he never knew about for the craft, and now that he got to share it, he felt the need to speak on it. He had gotten off his chair, and now prepared to remove the tarp. “Behold.” He pulled it down, revealing the same armor Ryuuzaki had left him, with a few noticeable changes.

Nobo started to point out what went where. “See the shiny streaks of metal? That’s light reflecting off the meteoric iron, it’s almost magical to look at, depending on the angle the shine travels with you, I folded it so much it looks like a cross section of a stack of paper. It reinforces all the traditional places where you can’t take a wound and survive… erm… the lads at the Institute call it ‘survivalship bias study’, basically the places where you never find puncture or slashing wounds in recovered vests and armors, because the ones who die never get them repaired, you know? So you reinforce the points where you can’t survive a hit. Pretty clever, I’d never think of something like that.”

He would point to the jade crystals. “Now, this jade is fascinating to work, but I couldn’t make it too intricate, didn’t have time, so these medallions I shaped into cicadas. They’re meant to represent the preservation of the vital force in the recently departed, but I hoped it would work just as well for the living.” He gave Ryuuzaki a smile. “Lastly, I made the senju wood into fibers that I wove into the fabrics themselves all over the suit. You won’t see it, but if some chakra technique hits the suit, it’ll take spent chakra and direct them to the jade amulets, and you can use it as if it were your own. Quite handy, that. I’m stealing that. I’m putting it into my armor too.” He nodded as he spoke the last few lines.

“So, that’s that from me.” He crossed his arms, and looked at Ryuuzaki. “How about you? How are you?” He nodded at the band. “What’s that for?”

With the implied presence of the band around Ryuzaki’s arm, it was obvious what was about to happen. If the Nara chickened out at the last moment, Nobo would allow him to take his armor and leave. If he presented him with the phrase that signified his passing onto the next stage, Nobo would verbally express his condolences, while his hands would signal congratulations, and he would then say outloud to the man that he could take a few days off for his own while signaling in the battle hand sign language the next steps on his new journey as a Storm Op, and invite him closer to the center of the room, from where he removed one of the foam matts off the floor, revealing an handle that when pulled, brought up a circular hidden compartment, allowing Ryuzaki to chose one to learn. If Ryuzaki needed help, and Noboru knew how to help, he would teach Ryuzaki whatever he knew about it to make the process easier.