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Lightning in the Clouds [Genin Exam]
2 posters
TottoriCitizen- Stat Page : The Executioner
Clan Focus : Taijutsu
Village : Vagabonds
Ryo : 58000
![Lightning in the Clouds [Genin Exam] Empty](https://2img.net/i/empty.gif)
Lightning in the Clouds [Genin Exam]
Sat Sep 04, 2021 10:48 pm
Kumogakure - the Village Hidden in the Clouds, the land of lightning, the paradigm of might where power and resolve reigned supreme - whatever monickers one desired to ascribe to the village hidden by the clouds and lightning, it was apparent that it was a village of purpose. It was one that never slept, never relented, and absolutely never seemed to amaze the Ninja World. However, the land of eternal strength had not always upheld power to its highest degree. It wavered. It faltered. It hesistated. The testament of Kumogakure's faults was when it was embarrassedly subjugated at its lowest point by the elusive man that was Gidyne Rygisae, usurping absolute control as the Ninth Lightning Shadow - before stepping down soon after. Many would say that the man was a coward, a mere failure of a Raikage for not assuming his role - yet many neglected that was the point. It was not his role to be a constant leader whose consistency would mistake others to believe that he was a being who would rule eternally, but rather, he was the engine - the flame which spurred the once euphemistic halcyon that was Kumogakure, into a brooding storm - hellbent on retaining its torrential vigor. He laid the stepping stones for Kiseragi Onomori, who passed the crown down to Noboru Kaito soon after. The village - in a matter of a single year, turned from an insidious nation slowly rotting from the inside, into the raging storm that it once was.
When people see lightning, they notice the vibrant lights that dominate the skies. They flock towards this impressive display of energy and what to see it for what it truly is. That was what Kumogakure was turning into...
And that was the reason Homura joined the Academy.
A man who was cast away from his clan for being an abnormality, desperately desired some sort of light. He finally found it, and he wouldn't let go. Perhaps he wanted to feel the heat of the lightning as if it would comfort him like his family never did; or perhaps he yearned for strength, so he wanted to imitate the lightning - and resemble its strength. For whatever reason the false Uzumaki joined the Academy of Kumogakure, he did it for a purpose - the same purpose that made the village into a self-sufficient society that created only the strongest.
When he joined the Shinobi Academy, he was met with derisive jeers and offensive hecklings from his peers. It was to be expected; for one, his peers were twelve years old and younger...which was to be once again expected, but it did get on his nerves that his classmates would recycle the same old insults about how he was joining the institution at such an old age compared to most who would join at around seven or eight years old. But the jokes would eventually be on them. As much as Homura desired to bash the little fuckers into the nearby wall for insulting his intelligence and older age, he knew that as a young man...he needed to show his superiority in other aspects. Back when he was in Konohagakure as a naive aspiring shinobi, he was a Genin who passed the Academy at the age of seven - a prodigy to most. Of course, that was eleven years ago but crucial information cannot be so easily forgotten. So, Homura would easily pass all of his tests with perfect scores. The proctors were a little irritated at the arrogant and pretentious mannerisms of the blonde foreigner...so they decided after a week of him entering the Academy - they would administer the Genin Exam, to see how well he truly understood the art of Shinobi.
Awaiting the Genin Exam with his usual casual attire which consisted of a black long-sleeved "biker" jacket, black pants, black combat shoes, and a white shirt underneath, at the entrance of the Academy Homura would be sent to the examination room - an enclosure where he and the proctor assigned to well...proctor his exam would begin. Homura would simply nod as the Academy teachers would send him to his examination room - his air of confidence and indifferent expression reeking through his body. Once arriving at the examination room, the blonde would prop himself on a vacant chair, waiting for his proctor to enter so they could get on with the exam.
"Waiting for an exam...I haven't experienced this in a while..."
WC: 833
[Requesting Proctor for Genin Exam]
When people see lightning, they notice the vibrant lights that dominate the skies. They flock towards this impressive display of energy and what to see it for what it truly is. That was what Kumogakure was turning into...
And that was the reason Homura joined the Academy.
A man who was cast away from his clan for being an abnormality, desperately desired some sort of light. He finally found it, and he wouldn't let go. Perhaps he wanted to feel the heat of the lightning as if it would comfort him like his family never did; or perhaps he yearned for strength, so he wanted to imitate the lightning - and resemble its strength. For whatever reason the false Uzumaki joined the Academy of Kumogakure, he did it for a purpose - the same purpose that made the village into a self-sufficient society that created only the strongest.
When he joined the Shinobi Academy, he was met with derisive jeers and offensive hecklings from his peers. It was to be expected; for one, his peers were twelve years old and younger...which was to be once again expected, but it did get on his nerves that his classmates would recycle the same old insults about how he was joining the institution at such an old age compared to most who would join at around seven or eight years old. But the jokes would eventually be on them. As much as Homura desired to bash the little fuckers into the nearby wall for insulting his intelligence and older age, he knew that as a young man...he needed to show his superiority in other aspects. Back when he was in Konohagakure as a naive aspiring shinobi, he was a Genin who passed the Academy at the age of seven - a prodigy to most. Of course, that was eleven years ago but crucial information cannot be so easily forgotten. So, Homura would easily pass all of his tests with perfect scores. The proctors were a little irritated at the arrogant and pretentious mannerisms of the blonde foreigner...so they decided after a week of him entering the Academy - they would administer the Genin Exam, to see how well he truly understood the art of Shinobi.
Awaiting the Genin Exam with his usual casual attire which consisted of a black long-sleeved "biker" jacket, black pants, black combat shoes, and a white shirt underneath, at the entrance of the Academy Homura would be sent to the examination room - an enclosure where he and the proctor assigned to well...proctor his exam would begin. Homura would simply nod as the Academy teachers would send him to his examination room - his air of confidence and indifferent expression reeking through his body. Once arriving at the examination room, the blonde would prop himself on a vacant chair, waiting for his proctor to enter so they could get on with the exam.
"Waiting for an exam...I haven't experienced this in a while..."
WC: 833
[Requesting Proctor for Genin Exam]
Noboru KaitoMaster
- Stat Page : The father,
The son,
The daughter
Village : Kumogakure
Ryo : 155
Re: Lightning in the Clouds [Genin Exam]
Sat Sep 11, 2021 11:36 am
It would be a few solid minutes before Homura would hear the sounds of boots drowning out the sounds of shoes as a pair of men walked the hallway of the currently less than occupied Academy of the Kumogakure. But, once they arrived at the door from where Homura had walked not a few minutes ago, they halted and drew the door open to allow the figure of Noboru Kaito to imposingly cross the threshold. Having lived in the seedier parts of town, he was one who could appreciate the theatrics of a good entrance onto a room, a means of establishing himself as someone who did not like to be challenged, and to whom violence was but a second nature, a natural reflex as contracting the muscles around one’s chest to engage the lungs to breathe.
Close behind him followed one masked individual, who lacked a scent of an amble to his step. The Masked Individual stayed close to the door, closing it and observing Homura. The room would be laid out as one might expect; an amphitheater with rows of desks gradually raising higher to allow students equal opportunity to observe the dark board and raised platform where a teacher would have their own podium from which they would have their teaching materials. Kaito would make sure that not only was this the room, but also that no surprise could catch him off guard, his Byakugan enabled to observe the Academy for as far as he could see it, and enabled still as he walked into the room should he not see anything unexpected. It was with this lilac eye enabled under an eyepatch that ran from his forehead to his jaw that he was able to identify Homura, the lad sitting behind a desk in one of the many vacant chairs. Homura himself, if he laid eyes on the Raikage, would see a tall man -- one inch taller than himself -- with long strands of red hair streaming the sides of his face, and the side of his face which was not obfuscated by the eyepatch in a stoic expression reading something from a clipboard. Under a white cloak, a dark mesh of belts and metallic plates. His hat was nowhere to be seen, as the redhead had pocketed it to his displaced storage when he entered the academy.
One dark eye darted back and forth on the clipboard as Kaito approached the desk behind which Homura sat, and he stopped one foot short of it, holding one of the papers up to let him read what was under it, his attention mostly focused on Homura’s motions and observing his mannerisms as he witnessed this. He stood in silence for a hot second before putting the paper down and hurling the clipboard over his shoulder nonchalantly, which the masked individual caught as if the whole thing had been rehearsed.
“Homura Uzumaki, was it?” The masked individual harnessed their own chakra at this moment, their perceptual insight boosted beyond that of a trained lie detector, eyeing Homura as a hawk eyes prey from high in the sky. Kaito continued, his tone monotone but grave, his deep voice never betraying how it dragged as if a growl. “I have met a few geniuses in my lifetime. I’m not fond of people who inherit their talents, but I can’t say I don’t appreciate them, so when I was told someone absorbed their entire academic curriculum within one week I just had to come see them. How surprised was I when I found out you aren't a native, you just happened to walk in on our village. Tell me, what is the story of this young genius, Homura Uzumaki?”
Close behind him followed one masked individual, who lacked a scent of an amble to his step. The Masked Individual stayed close to the door, closing it and observing Homura. The room would be laid out as one might expect; an amphitheater with rows of desks gradually raising higher to allow students equal opportunity to observe the dark board and raised platform where a teacher would have their own podium from which they would have their teaching materials. Kaito would make sure that not only was this the room, but also that no surprise could catch him off guard, his Byakugan enabled to observe the Academy for as far as he could see it, and enabled still as he walked into the room should he not see anything unexpected. It was with this lilac eye enabled under an eyepatch that ran from his forehead to his jaw that he was able to identify Homura, the lad sitting behind a desk in one of the many vacant chairs. Homura himself, if he laid eyes on the Raikage, would see a tall man -- one inch taller than himself -- with long strands of red hair streaming the sides of his face, and the side of his face which was not obfuscated by the eyepatch in a stoic expression reading something from a clipboard. Under a white cloak, a dark mesh of belts and metallic plates. His hat was nowhere to be seen, as the redhead had pocketed it to his displaced storage when he entered the academy.
One dark eye darted back and forth on the clipboard as Kaito approached the desk behind which Homura sat, and he stopped one foot short of it, holding one of the papers up to let him read what was under it, his attention mostly focused on Homura’s motions and observing his mannerisms as he witnessed this. He stood in silence for a hot second before putting the paper down and hurling the clipboard over his shoulder nonchalantly, which the masked individual caught as if the whole thing had been rehearsed.
“Homura Uzumaki, was it?” The masked individual harnessed their own chakra at this moment, their perceptual insight boosted beyond that of a trained lie detector, eyeing Homura as a hawk eyes prey from high in the sky. Kaito continued, his tone monotone but grave, his deep voice never betraying how it dragged as if a growl. “I have met a few geniuses in my lifetime. I’m not fond of people who inherit their talents, but I can’t say I don’t appreciate them, so when I was told someone absorbed their entire academic curriculum within one week I just had to come see them. How surprised was I when I found out you aren't a native, you just happened to walk in on our village. Tell me, what is the story of this young genius, Homura Uzumaki?”
----------
WC: 625
-10AP Kaito Byakugan
-45AP Kiseragi
- TottoriCitizen
- Stat Page : The Executioner
Clan Focus : Taijutsu
Village : Vagabonds
Ryo : 58000
Re: Lightning in the Clouds [Genin Exam]
Sun Sep 19, 2021 8:56 pm
The methodical sound of footsteps reaching the examination room did not fall under deaf ears - in fact, it was loud...too loud...annoyingly loud for Homura's preferences. His scarlet blood-red eyes narrowed at the sound of such an oppressive noise, diluting the foreboding atmosphere of the room with a familiar aura. He knew this feeling - which is exactly why he hated it. It was the same sensation he felt many years ago when his skills were being tested for the second time by his own clan...little did he know that would be the last time he was ever tested as well as being the last day he ever slept in his home village. Those eyes, those stares, their filthy auras of superiority... No. Homura promised to himself that he would never look back; he would meet every challenge with a stronger counterattack. He would never fall. He would never relent. This exam was nothing more than a challenge...and the Uzumaki would make absolutely sure that he would pass - regardless of his past.
Throughout the myriad of internal monologuing that would fester within the false Uzumaki's cerebrum, time arbored no patience. The door slid open with swift action, allowing the proctor to enter the examination room with all of his glory; Homura would take note of such a sound, his eyes changing focus in an instant as he met the gaze of the figure that entered the door...yet the moment that his scarlet eyes set to focus on the figure, he looked away, as if he automatically considered himself unworthy of meeting the figure's imposing gaze. "..." Broad sets of shoulders that held two pillars of strength and vigor; the pillars were strong yet had many years on them, having endured the toughest of junctures but still remained - unrelenting towards any and all threats. Where Homura saw pillars of absolute strength, any other human would see "arms." The man's body was the pinnacle of conditioning, the embodiment of dedication to the craft of killing. Scarlet hair - the same color as Homura's eyes streamed down the visage of the man with an eyepatch able to be discerned from the imposing figure.
Homura gulped.
He knew exactly who the man was.
Who wouldn't?
This was some sort of sick joke. The proctors most likely ruminated the best way to intimidate the Uzumaki into submission was to bring the face of Kumogakure- the village of storms and valor - to the Academy. If there was any sort of confidence the Shinkou had, it evaporated in a pathetic display the moment the Raikage stepped into the examination room. The flame of solipsism that flared deep within Homura's entity merely disappeared. “Homura Uzumaki, was it?” Noboru Kaito, the 11th Raikage of Kumogakure, acknowledged the presence of the subdued faker. It was likely punishable to not respond when the Raikage was talking, so Homura would give a meek nod. His voice, impassive as it was fierce would begin to flood the examination room - the suffocating atmosphere of his aura nearly strangling Homura. Nevertheless, the Raikage didn't seem to care about the uncomfortable expression the blonde hair Uzumaki had - continuing to ask about the so-called "genius" origins. The Uzumaki's eyes would nearly widen? Should he lie, or should he tell the truth? The truth was unsettling at best and revolting at worst...but, was lying to someone who could cut him down in an instant really worth it? Well, it didn't really matter anymore. His confidence was gone. The exam was probably rigged anyway. It would be better just to give up and return to his normal lifestyle.
"No."
A single voice shattered all of Homura's regrets. It was the same voice that talked to him many years ago - that spurred the propagation of the fire that made him cast away his family for good - that made him change the course of his face...that would be the same voice that brought the Uzumaki's fire back.
"Homura Uzumaki hails from the Uzumaki Clan of Konohagakure no Sato, son of the clan head Tatsumi Uzumaki. From as young as he began to walk, he studied and trained the arts of his clans for hours on end - learning the intricacies of Fuuinjutsu and Juinjutsu. Even though he became an expert at a young age, he could never truly began to grasp the ability of his clan techniques. Such a defective son was looked down upon by the Uzumaki Clan. Rumors of banishment to even eugenics rose behind closed doors. It was clear that Homura never truly belonged in the Uzumaki Clan, but he was hopelessly desperate for acceptance and love. He requested for the clan heads to view his showing of the sacred Uzumaki Sealing Technique, hoping that finally, he could be accepted into his clan. As he placed his hand on the ground, forming the handseals required for the jutsu that determined whether one was an Uzumaki or not, it rejected him. Flames enveloped the area, destroying many regalias and ceramics sacred to the Konohagakure Uzumaki Clan...and it also claimed his mother as well. Sanae Uzumaki gave Homura life, Homura returned it with death. His clan banished him, leaving him with only the clothes on his back, as he was left to survive in the Shinobi World. He managed, and he soon found himself infatuated with the idea of becoming a shinobi that could be strong enough to morph one's own fate in a positive direction."
His words were like lightning, yet his expression was calm. He didn't hate his past anymore, he merely accepted it as a part of himself. He regretted many things he did, but it was the past. There was no way one could change their past, so the only thing one could do was move forward. Homura had two legs, it was time that he started using them.
"It is the greatest of pleasures to meet you, Lord Raikage. I am Homura Uzumaki. I am the boy who could never learn a single jutsu from his own clan. I will not try to justify the atrocities I committed in the past. I killed my mother, accident or not. I am no genius, no matter how much my test scores may obfuscate the truth. What you see here is someone who couldn't even perform the techniques of their clan...a genius could have easily done that. My resolve is the only thing that led me to this point in my life, and I will continue to use it. Does that make me a genius? I do not know the answer to the question, yet, I believe that makes me a shinobi of Kumogakure."
His eyes were unwavering, matching the Raikage's visage with burning conviction.
WC: 1124
TWC: 1954
Throughout the myriad of internal monologuing that would fester within the false Uzumaki's cerebrum, time arbored no patience. The door slid open with swift action, allowing the proctor to enter the examination room with all of his glory; Homura would take note of such a sound, his eyes changing focus in an instant as he met the gaze of the figure that entered the door...yet the moment that his scarlet eyes set to focus on the figure, he looked away, as if he automatically considered himself unworthy of meeting the figure's imposing gaze. "..." Broad sets of shoulders that held two pillars of strength and vigor; the pillars were strong yet had many years on them, having endured the toughest of junctures but still remained - unrelenting towards any and all threats. Where Homura saw pillars of absolute strength, any other human would see "arms." The man's body was the pinnacle of conditioning, the embodiment of dedication to the craft of killing. Scarlet hair - the same color as Homura's eyes streamed down the visage of the man with an eyepatch able to be discerned from the imposing figure.
Homura gulped.
He knew exactly who the man was.
Who wouldn't?
This was some sort of sick joke. The proctors most likely ruminated the best way to intimidate the Uzumaki into submission was to bring the face of Kumogakure- the village of storms and valor - to the Academy. If there was any sort of confidence the Shinkou had, it evaporated in a pathetic display the moment the Raikage stepped into the examination room. The flame of solipsism that flared deep within Homura's entity merely disappeared. “Homura Uzumaki, was it?” Noboru Kaito, the 11th Raikage of Kumogakure, acknowledged the presence of the subdued faker. It was likely punishable to not respond when the Raikage was talking, so Homura would give a meek nod. His voice, impassive as it was fierce would begin to flood the examination room - the suffocating atmosphere of his aura nearly strangling Homura. Nevertheless, the Raikage didn't seem to care about the uncomfortable expression the blonde hair Uzumaki had - continuing to ask about the so-called "genius" origins. The Uzumaki's eyes would nearly widen? Should he lie, or should he tell the truth? The truth was unsettling at best and revolting at worst...but, was lying to someone who could cut him down in an instant really worth it? Well, it didn't really matter anymore. His confidence was gone. The exam was probably rigged anyway. It would be better just to give up and return to his normal lifestyle.
"No."
A single voice shattered all of Homura's regrets. It was the same voice that talked to him many years ago - that spurred the propagation of the fire that made him cast away his family for good - that made him change the course of his face...that would be the same voice that brought the Uzumaki's fire back.
"Homura Uzumaki hails from the Uzumaki Clan of Konohagakure no Sato, son of the clan head Tatsumi Uzumaki. From as young as he began to walk, he studied and trained the arts of his clans for hours on end - learning the intricacies of Fuuinjutsu and Juinjutsu. Even though he became an expert at a young age, he could never truly began to grasp the ability of his clan techniques. Such a defective son was looked down upon by the Uzumaki Clan. Rumors of banishment to even eugenics rose behind closed doors. It was clear that Homura never truly belonged in the Uzumaki Clan, but he was hopelessly desperate for acceptance and love. He requested for the clan heads to view his showing of the sacred Uzumaki Sealing Technique, hoping that finally, he could be accepted into his clan. As he placed his hand on the ground, forming the handseals required for the jutsu that determined whether one was an Uzumaki or not, it rejected him. Flames enveloped the area, destroying many regalias and ceramics sacred to the Konohagakure Uzumaki Clan...and it also claimed his mother as well. Sanae Uzumaki gave Homura life, Homura returned it with death. His clan banished him, leaving him with only the clothes on his back, as he was left to survive in the Shinobi World. He managed, and he soon found himself infatuated with the idea of becoming a shinobi that could be strong enough to morph one's own fate in a positive direction."
His words were like lightning, yet his expression was calm. He didn't hate his past anymore, he merely accepted it as a part of himself. He regretted many things he did, but it was the past. There was no way one could change their past, so the only thing one could do was move forward. Homura had two legs, it was time that he started using them.
"It is the greatest of pleasures to meet you, Lord Raikage. I am Homura Uzumaki. I am the boy who could never learn a single jutsu from his own clan. I will not try to justify the atrocities I committed in the past. I killed my mother, accident or not. I am no genius, no matter how much my test scores may obfuscate the truth. What you see here is someone who couldn't even perform the techniques of their clan...a genius could have easily done that. My resolve is the only thing that led me to this point in my life, and I will continue to use it. Does that make me a genius? I do not know the answer to the question, yet, I believe that makes me a shinobi of Kumogakure."
His eyes were unwavering, matching the Raikage's visage with burning conviction.
WC: 1124
TWC: 1954
- Noboru KaitoMaster
- Stat Page : The father,
The son,
The daughter
Village : Kumogakure
Ryo : 155
Re: Lightning in the Clouds [Genin Exam]
Tue Sep 21, 2021 4:09 pm
In any other circumstance, Noboru might have felt pity tug at his heart strings when he impartially observed the youth lose his confident demeanor slowly but surely with each step he took into the room and towards him. The single dynamic of him standing up imposingly while the youth shrinked from comfortably resting to awkwardly sitting set the scene and asserted their roles, with Noboru's draconic presence dominating the exchange in an iron grip. Yet, he had learned early on that the reigns of power must be held confidently, and whipped fiercely. He saw quite a bit of himself in the youth, as he was now in his shoes, much as Noboru now tried to fill Kutari Uchiha’s shoes. It had been his plan all along after all: to embody the power he wished his brethren to covet and work towards. A gulp, a weak nod, a microexpression of surprise: Noboru could not relent, would not relent.
He had to make sure.
And yet, just as he was about to speak, he… changed. Not physically, perhaps, but the telltale signs were there. He spoke in a calm voice, looking at Noboru's dark eye with the two crimson eyes, as uncharacteristic of an Uzumaki as was the golden mane of hair. Spoken in the third person as only a true megalomaniac might be able to practice, the boy regaled Noboru with his tale, all of which Kaito took in as if his own face was a mask, his breathing steady throughout the experience. Before him another member of the Konohagakure, and while he did think back to the child at the gates, he forced himself to think of Beanstalk, someone who migrated to the Kumogakure during the reign of Maximillian Yamaguchi. He provided further details of his mastery of fuinjutsu and juijutsu, but was unable to perform techniques exclusive to the Uzumaki clan. Noboru might’ve sympathized, as he had been mistaken for an Uzumaki in his early days, however unlike Homura, he had no aptitude towards the sealing arts.
The golden child spoke of how in his failure to please the elders of the clan to perform the sacred rites of the Uzumaki, he inadvertently caused the death of his own mother. That alone was almost enough to break Noboru’s facade given his personal feelings towards his own mother, but he persevered, and he maintained his stoic expression through the morbid tale, punctuating it with his exile and goal of being able to still become a ninja.
The lad broke character and spoke in the first person, informing Noboru how it was a pleasure to meet him, and how he would not try to justify his past, yet he would try and justify why he was so good at the exams -- not by virtue of being a genius, but because he had passed them in the past, if his age and attempt at performing higher arts were any indication. He looked Noboru dead in the eye and claimed he may not be a genius, but had the resolve to make him a genin of the Kumogakure.
Noboru gazed down on the academy student with contempt.
“Do you know what makes a shinobi of the Kumogakure, Homura?” His voice was as stoic as he could muster, but this dispassionate facade was betrayed by the smallest inkling of disdain towards the golden haired youth before him. “The willingness to sacrifice for one’s beliefs. Sacrifice of mind, body and time in the pursuit of strength, and the belief that Kumogakure -- for all its flaws and shortcomings -- deserves to be protected and preserved. Your sob story might’ve made many a maid weep between the Fire Country and the Lightning Country, but to me, it makes me wonder… Why would a foreign trained ninja try to lie their way into my organization? You can rest assured in one thing: I no longer believe you to be a genius. A genius might’ve seen lying to trained murderers as a bad idea.”
In this, one thing Noboru was almost certain: so far, the boy had not lied. The Masked Man by the door had given no indication of finding a lie in the statements. Yet the evasion of the truth had pricked Noboru, as if a pebble in his shoe, one he must remove by force if necessary.
He had to make sure.
And yet, just as he was about to speak, he… changed. Not physically, perhaps, but the telltale signs were there. He spoke in a calm voice, looking at Noboru's dark eye with the two crimson eyes, as uncharacteristic of an Uzumaki as was the golden mane of hair. Spoken in the third person as only a true megalomaniac might be able to practice, the boy regaled Noboru with his tale, all of which Kaito took in as if his own face was a mask, his breathing steady throughout the experience. Before him another member of the Konohagakure, and while he did think back to the child at the gates, he forced himself to think of Beanstalk, someone who migrated to the Kumogakure during the reign of Maximillian Yamaguchi. He provided further details of his mastery of fuinjutsu and juijutsu, but was unable to perform techniques exclusive to the Uzumaki clan. Noboru might’ve sympathized, as he had been mistaken for an Uzumaki in his early days, however unlike Homura, he had no aptitude towards the sealing arts.
The golden child spoke of how in his failure to please the elders of the clan to perform the sacred rites of the Uzumaki, he inadvertently caused the death of his own mother. That alone was almost enough to break Noboru’s facade given his personal feelings towards his own mother, but he persevered, and he maintained his stoic expression through the morbid tale, punctuating it with his exile and goal of being able to still become a ninja.
The lad broke character and spoke in the first person, informing Noboru how it was a pleasure to meet him, and how he would not try to justify his past, yet he would try and justify why he was so good at the exams -- not by virtue of being a genius, but because he had passed them in the past, if his age and attempt at performing higher arts were any indication. He looked Noboru dead in the eye and claimed he may not be a genius, but had the resolve to make him a genin of the Kumogakure.
Noboru gazed down on the academy student with contempt.
“Do you know what makes a shinobi of the Kumogakure, Homura?” His voice was as stoic as he could muster, but this dispassionate facade was betrayed by the smallest inkling of disdain towards the golden haired youth before him. “The willingness to sacrifice for one’s beliefs. Sacrifice of mind, body and time in the pursuit of strength, and the belief that Kumogakure -- for all its flaws and shortcomings -- deserves to be protected and preserved. Your sob story might’ve made many a maid weep between the Fire Country and the Lightning Country, but to me, it makes me wonder… Why would a foreign trained ninja try to lie their way into my organization? You can rest assured in one thing: I no longer believe you to be a genius. A genius might’ve seen lying to trained murderers as a bad idea.”
In this, one thing Noboru was almost certain: so far, the boy had not lied. The Masked Man by the door had given no indication of finding a lie in the statements. Yet the evasion of the truth had pricked Noboru, as if a pebble in his shoe, one he must remove by force if necessary.
===============
WC: 720
TWC: 1345
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