One Hand Washes The Other

A morning spent at work was not how he would rather start his day, yet necessity demanded he didn’t take days off just yet. Most of his time had been divided into two categories: work, and workout. Even Kiseragi hadn’t been able to tackle the mountains of work that demanded the handiwork of the Kage themselves, even with him having been the previous Kage. That being said, Kaito and Kiseragi had spent a long time together since his return so he could be properly instructed on how to perform the more… administrative part of the job. Being the Raikage wasn’t just about being strong, after all. That being said though, Kaito did feel the weight of his years taking their toll. More and more he had noticed he wasn’t as agile as he had been in the peak of his youth, and slowly his articulations would grind against each other. His best bet was to combat this with short bursts of power, but this demanded that he abandon his usual speedy fighting style that he had embraced as a Fuijin Howler, and now he had started his journey as a Raijin Drummer. And just as he had estimated, the paced but explosive style of the Drummers was now more practical for Kaito’s situation than the Fuijin Howling he had gotten used to growing up.

And so, for the most part, he would workout during the mornings and work the afternoon, or workout in the afternoons if he had to work during the morning for some last minute emergencies (or if he had neglected something and purposefully left it for the last minute). Sitting at his mahogany desk, a beautiful piece of furniture which was one of the last remnants of the Raikages of the past, with his back against the wall length windows, he looked above the pile of papers to glance at the office space. His office was spacious, and he liked that, as it had allowed him to create a gym-at-the-office situation. On his right side, a mini-bar kept him company, with a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables ready to be shredded into a smoothie, with some sake around as well to make the juice reach the muscles faster. After the first few meters, the office wall properly gave way to a wall made of one way glass, in which the office had the mirror face, while the other side was an empty space where his ANBU could monitor the happenings of the office at all times in case someone had some funky ideas. In front of the mirror, various lifting stations made themselves available, as well as elliptical, walking and rowing machines. On the other wall, more lifting stations, including a squatting rack, a few pull up bars against the wall, and many weight racks. Kettle weights and a medicine ball also decorated the rubber floors matts. From the double door at the entrance to the office up to back of the office where his desk was, the floor retained the original wooden floors, a corridor for those who visited to walk. To his left, a couch which could sit three people. On his desk’s right drawer, his imported Fang Country cigars.

Life was good.

Yet, sometimes the work made him doubt that claim. A knock on the door distracted him from observing his office, and he called out to whoever was at the door. Rei, his secretary, made her way through the double doors with a file in her arm, clutched to her chest. She was shorter than Nobo, luscious pink hair, full lips which she painted to match the hair, and a pretty face all around. In contrast to Nobo’s dark armor under the white robes of the Raikage, the belt of which dangled a peculiar bottle of sake, she was dressed rather modestly for the weather. If Nobo was a dating man he might’ve tried his luck. “How can I help you, my dear Rei?” She sighed. “You can’t, unfortunately, you need to help yourself. Here’s the Daimyo’s latest budget report, as well as some other concerns regarding our border and maritime territory control, and this one is about leaves of absences for our forces, some new ones came in from top brass.” She handed the files one at a time as she explained them. “Also, you have an appointment with two of your ninja today. I’ve coordinated with Mission Control so we could have the two of them free today and they have been summoned by the Mission Delivery team, they should be here at 11am. Do you want me to have them wait to enter together?” Kaito listened intently, looking at the files as they came in before looking up at her deep blue eyes. “No, send them in immediately when they arrive, I don’t need them to enter together.” She nodded at the command. “As you wish. Is there anything else I can do for you?” He recalled their time working together when he was a jonin. She had been available then. She was either over him by now, or being professional. “No, that will be all. Thank you for the good work.” She nodded once again. “Of course”, she said, before turning on her heels and making her way out the door.

Kaito worked through the morning, oblivious to the approaching 11am. When the two ninja arrived, Rei would welcome them and instruct them to enter, as the Raikage would be waiting for them already. When the door would reverberate a knocking next, he would call out to whoever knocked to enter.

When the knock came at his door, Kaito growled out an invitation, which was soon followed by someone opening the double doors and walking in. Kaito lifted his eyes from the document he was reading, observing as he finally met Enyo Gushiken for the first time, the one who Anaphiel didn’t consider worthy of a promotion at her current stage. He went back to reading the document he had been reading, before finally signing it as she stood in front of his desk, as soldierly as one might expect from the toughest the Kumogakure had to offer. He finally put the paper and pen down, looking at her with his dark eye as he leaned back in his comfortable office chair. “The fabled Enyo Gushiken. You can take a seat, if you wish”, he said as he gestured towards the sofa to his left, while gyrating towards the right towards the bar. “Can I get you anything? Some sake? A smoothie?” He would prepare whatever Enyo replied with, before pouring himself some sake and delivering what was asked -- or nothing at all if that had been her wish -- before going back to the stand to the right of his desk.

He observed her stance and posture, whether she was sitting or standing. “You a Drummer? Or a Howler?” It was clear she was a fighter of some sort. Not only her musculate, but her mere posture gave that away. He would wait for a reply before continuing. “I’m a Dummer myself. Used to be a Howler most of my life, but had to adapt to the times. Old age comes for us all.” He sighed, before lifting his glass and drinking from it. Soon as it came down, he was refilling it already. It would seem Beanstalk was late. No matter.

He turned around and put his glass on his desk, making sure to put a coaster on the beautiful wood of the desk. He was a warrior, to be sure, but not a fucking animal. He reached into his desk’s top drawer, pulling out a box of cigars. “You smoke?” He would offer if she would take it, and take one for himself. “So, since our friend is late, let’s get this started ourselves.” He drew a cigar cutter, and cut the tip of the curled cigar. “Mission report”, he started, almost monotone, allowing the cutter to punctuate his sentence, “the theft of information from the Kage’s office.” He flipped the cigar, cutting the other tip as he commanded her with a dispassionate “go”. He would then listen to her, carefully observing her mannerisms with his peripheral vision as the dark eye met hers, smoking the cigar slowly.

A light raise of the brow told Noboru that she was somewhat surprised with his approach, as far as he could see. No matter, she took a seat anyway, and after serving her sake, she replied to his question, informing him that she was a Drummer, much as he might be one. He clarified for her he was indeed a Drummer, and she retorted that one must adapt to the times. The redhead would chuckle and grin, tilting his head to the side before drinking. She sat as what one might call “a proper lady”, though the Kage was not one for such denominations. Male or female, thug or aristocratic, his ninja were tools to be used for the greater cause of the preservation and elevation of the Lightning Country. He never forgot this, nor would he let them forget that either.

She recoiled at Noboru’s offer of a cigar, placing her hand by her bandages. Noboru shrugged it off, not paying too much attention to it. He wasn’t a telepath or a medical specialist, and her bandages had done a good job of hiding whatever was under them. He barely associated it with her dislike of the flame. When he asked for the report on the mission, he took a drag as she began to speak, feigning disinterest, and propped himself off the desk to walk to the window, pulling a mechanism that allowed for the wall sided window to tilt inward and allow the strong scent of the cigar to go out. He took a drag, allowing for the flavors to dance along his tongue, before relaxing his throat and retrohaling the cigar smoke through his nostrils, the strong scents once again waving and dancing among his scent receptors. As she spoke, his mind whispered of the rumors that drummers are as hollow as the drums they beat, and only good for beating drums as their name implied. Ironic, he thought.

He turned back around, glancing at her and locking his dark eye with hers as she made closing remarks on Anaphiel’s recommendation against her promotion, how that angered her and how she was ready to be punished, and would be punished willingly. Noboru’s fingers curled around the cigar, and held on to it as he shook his head lightly, clicking his tongue against the roof of his in disapproval. He approached the bar, picked up the bootle once again and brought it closer. He was too sober to deal with this. “Whatever punishment, I will take it willingly as chastising”, he repeated, almost in a mocking way, but reigned in enough that it would carry mostly his disapproval. “Enyo, am I running a daycare here? Actually, before you answer that”, he would raise his hand whence the cigar hung curled between his index finger and against his middle finger, “I want you to think very carefully about the implications of your actions. Not only did you disparage me, your Kage, by questioning your assigned commanding officer as directed by the Mission Board which I oversee and employ, you disobeyed a direct order in the line of duty. And that’s not even the worst.” He would pick up the sake bottle and approach Enyo to refill her glass, unless she motioned she didn’t want to drink more, not likely the best of decisions as he was watching her as a hawk might watch a rabbit. “Did you stop to think that killing individuals with information on their motives, or employers, or potential buyers, could implicate you as a double agent?” He took a moment, and observed her facial expression and subsequent reactions, stoic as a statue.

He would back away after a moment -- which for some might’ve felt like an eternity -- and place the bottle back on the table, when they were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in”, he would invite. He clearly recalled asking Rei to inform the duo to just walk in, he would have to talk to her about this later. Anaphiel would walk into the room. Out of respect, he didn’t call him by his usual name, as they would be meeting for the first time after a sensitive subject took place. Instead, he switched the cigar from his right hand to his left, and met Anaphiel halfway through his office so he could have a private word with the man. He extended the right hand to Anaphiel to shake it, and in a hush tone expressed his sympathies. “I heard what happened. You have my condolences.” He would then turn once again, and begin walking back towards the bar. “As the two of you are already acquainted, I will spare you the introductions. Please, take a seat.” Kaito produced another glass, brought it towards the desk, and filled it with sake, before putting the bottle down and handing the glass to Anaphiel. “You smoke?” He gestured with the cigar, and if Anaphiel accepted, he would produce his cigar box and cigar cutter to the man.

“Now, Anaphiel, before you arrived, I was just about done questioning Enyo about her choices on that fateful morning. So, if you will give her a moment to answer to what I asked her, I will want you to give me your mission report for the intel recovery mission, and if you could…” Noboru approached his desk, pulling out Anaphiel’s note address to him, before giving it to Anaphiel, “read this out loud and explain what it means.”

Noboru would once again lean on his desk, observing the situation. His motions, deliberate and paced for maximum effect, spoke of his presence in the room as the predator, and any unexpected motion would be met with fierce prejudice.

Truly, words were the weapon of choice of the weak.

Enyo asserted she was not a traitor, professing her loyalty while admitting her forethought was lacking, sitting up as agitation stirred within her. Anaphiel, having explained himself regarding his tardiness, declined a cigar before he went on his tirade. Fuijin damn it, the redhead forgot he did that. Then again, he did ask for it, so he endured it. As he listened to the chunin, he walked towards the window, looking over his village through the reflection of the room before him as the cigar smoke expelled from his nostrils was vacated through the open window. The droning went on, yet Noboru was sure some report writer and reader would appreciate how thorough the man was. The reports seemed to match, yet from two differing points of view, obviously. While Enyo appeared to want to send a message to who knows who regarding Kumogakure’s stance on espionage, Anaphiel spoke of how he had allowed Enyo to continue performing even after a blatant statement she would disregard his commands on the thought of preventing it himself down the line, something he was ill equipped to do considering his next order to her was to take on assailants on her own without his supervision.

The veins on either temple of Noboru’s weathered face began to pulse. He did not like where this was going.

Anaphiel read the note which Noboru had read a few times already in dismay. Hearing it from his mouth was just as intriguing as to read it in what the redhead thought his voice would sound like, and yet so much more infuriating. Note read, he added an addendum to what his thoughts on it were, and while he claimed the Kage would have the last word, he would oppose the promotion until Enyo understood what it truly meant to be loyal to the village.

There was that word again. Loyal.

Noboru flipped the cigar in his fingers, before pressing the hot coal against the palm of the opposing hand and smothering it out, and as flakes of tobacco and ash lazed towards the floor, he pressed the entire thing between his palms and shredded the dried rolled leaves onto an Autumn shower. “Loyal”, he repeated. “Such a beautiful word, yet the two of you had displayed none of it during that mission.” He turned around, and the two would be able to see by the grave expression of his face -- if his dispassionate yet low growl of his voice hadn’t been enough -- that Noboru was now in an inverse mood with which he had greeted them earlier.

“The only reason the two of you are here talking to me is because my Storm Operatives didn’t see fit to lock you up under the mountain to rot and die, and so with that I must take it on their reports that they did not see any major espionage happening. But the gross disrespect and incompetence shown towards your village cannot stand. And you”, he pointed a firm finger on the ashed hand towards Enyo, “you better sink back into that fucking couch or the memory of those burns will feel like warm sake on a sunny day.” With that, Noboru had had enough, and the doors of the Gate of Opening flew wide open, his invigorated state allowing his presence to fill the entire room with a display of power few could stand against. Objects started rumbling all around, from papers on his desk, to his glass of sake to the bottle next to it, weights and bars across the room. The overwhelming presence of Noboru Kaito, and all the quiet, violent rage that burned within him would now be felt by everyone around, as the gourd of sake at his hip glowed a faint orange. Beneath his feet, tobacco and ash began to circle the man as they rose around his figure.

Booming once again, his voice carried through with ease as if distant thunder, yet it would reach both with the intensity of a close strike, as papers not clamped down by a paper weight began to flutter away and make their flight across the room. “Your loyalty to the village means squat shit if you can’t act on it. Disobeying a superior in the line of duty -- I’ve killed men for less.” A clear and translucent crimson would form around Noboru. “And while the last traitor that I disemboweled personally did far worse, you better believe he too thought what he did was for the sake of the village, backed by his loyalty. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, Gushiken. You best remember that whenever your loyalty to this village gives you any ideas that a basic genin shouldn’t even have.” Taking the form of a skeletal snake, the head would show, an eyepatch over the right socket, and a full mane of crimson hair billowing with the pressure of Noboru’s presence as the opened window rattled on its hinges. “And you.”

His black eye swirled in infinite crimson as Noboru turned his head, before taking the appearance of the three concentric semicircles of the Mangekyou Sharingan, one which the snake’s skull now sported. “Do you think Katsumi would’ve allowed you to progress in a mission if you declared you would disregard her orders? Do you think I wouldn’t break your orbital bones if you presumed to talk back to me? You speak truthfully and write engrossingly, yet it’s your lack of a spine that jeopardized your entire mission. You may have hailed from Konohagakure, but you best start acting like a Kumogakure ninja if you want to stay one.” He looked between the two, now speaking to both. “Weakness and stupidity will not be allowed to flourish within my organization, and I ever have to speak to either of you in this capacity, it will be under the mountains of the Kumogakure.”

And with that, as if a sonic boom that spread across the room, everything went back to normal. The Gate of Opening closed, and his crimson speckled eye became a fully black eye. The skeletal snake was nowhere in sight. Noboru looked at the floor, where broken shards of ceramic sat upon a clear liquid puddle. “Not my fucking sake…” He sighed, before looking back at the two.

What would Kutari do? To be sure, Kutari would rob them of a limb, as he had with the ninja who presumed to offer his healing skills to the Young Conqueror as he vanquished all foes before him. Yet, he recalled Kenshin’s words, of how Kutari’s fatal flaws were his unwillingness to help something he would deem as unworthy, but also his brutality in terms of rule. Kenshin had been brutal towards the Kumogakure, yet the way he presented his speech led Nobo to believe he might’ve handled such a situation differently. No. Noboru would have to find his own way in this scenario.

“Now. Seeing as the two of you have been given a second chance at life, I suggest you use it to the best of your abilities. Yet, I wish to have something that we can all remember this meeting for. Seeing as both of you are so keen in having an hand in the decisions that are made in this office, you can both leave one of your hands here before you go.”

He would reach into weapon pouches and take two lengths of wire. “Garrote the wrist, and seperate the hand however you want, as long as it stays. And don’t leave blood on my couch.”