An Office Visit (Seiichi & Yasahiro)

Leaving his home, Seiichi closed the door with a bang. That man... he thought as he left, always trying to tell me what to do. It wasn't that his father cared, but that he seemed to care too much sometimes. 'You can become village leader one day', he would say, 'or maybe even something covert, you know...' It was like he was living vicariously through him. At first becoming a ninja was Seiichi's idea, but now he questions that, maybe he just did it to please his dad. It was entirely possible that Seiichi would do this, after all, being a shinobi was more of a job than anything. But it kept him fit and people seemed to look up at him more often than not, so he deals with it.

He spent the whole time, while walking to the village leader's office, thinking about the spark that others had. Why did they become ninja? What drove people to spend their lives risking them? Seiichi thought about his girl friend, how she will be a little more safer now that he was on the village payroll, not to mention, maybe there are some perks they could get being a part of the military force. He could even have the 'Kage's' ear on day. He smirked at the thought. That would be the day, when this tiny thing of a village would become something grand. And he could say that he spent his life protecting it. He did start to feel a little better as he approached the castle.

Seiichi could see the huge beacon aflame as he approached the walls. He thought he could almost feel the heat coming off of it, but that might just be his nerves as he got closer to the village leader's door. This would be the first time he would meet the man. Seiichi was tasked to help him with paperwork, or some other administrative task, at least that is what he was thinking. The letter that was given to him was kind of cryptic. He held it in his breast pocket as he ascended the stairs of the large building.

It was a beautiful structure. The castle was the only thing that rivaled sundown in the bay, and being inside was an actual honor really. He could have the ability to serve the one who lives here, and not only that, but maybe be lucky enough to run the village himself some day. There it goes. My dad rubbing off on me again. He had a feeling that his fathers ambitions might as well become his in the end, he thinks about them so often. The thought jarred him enough. I am not my fathers slave! He pounded a fist into the village leaders door. He just meant to knock.

Oops...

wc:474

The thin veil of twilight fell softly over Tanbogakure as the final rays of sunlight slipped below the distant horizon. Lanterns flickered to life throughout the village, shops closed up, and regulars filed into the local bars to drink away the day's troubles—with winter fast approaching the days grew shorter and shorter, while bar tabs grew longer and longer. Overlooking it all stood the imposing Okada castle from which one could see the residential district below and well beyond to the terraced fields of rice that lent the country its name.

"Kazuko," Yasahiro slumped back into his chair. "Any chance we can clear tomorrow's schedule?"

The Komekage's diminutive aide, Kazuko Taika, shifted uneasily behind her desk. Tomorrow's schedule included a quarterly finance meeting on the state of the treasury, one they'd pushed back a week already. Unfortunately, her employer made a bad habit of trying to play hooky when anything to do with the village's finance team cropped up. Yasahiro would take a battlefield over a boardroom any day of the week.

"I don't think we can reschedule the—"

A loud thud against the door interrupted Kazuko.

"Ah," he glanced down at the thin dossier on his desk before making his way to the door. "That'll be my last appointment for the day. Kazuko, you can head out for the night, I'll see you tomorrow."

Suppressing a sigh, Kazuko gathered her things and, using an alternate exit, left the Komekage alone in his office. File cabinets lined the walls, a topographic map of Rice Country stood in the center of the room, and a large desk sat against the far wall. Since his cousin's return, the Yagami scion went to some lengths to keep his office cleaner than it might have been in the past.  

"Come on in, Seiichi," the Komekage said, opening the door for his latest guest. "Apologies for the rather cryptic summons. It's nothing bad, I promise."

He returned to the chair behind his desk.

"Please, take a seat," he gestured to the chair across from him. "Can I get you anything to drink? Tea, juice, or maybe something stronger?"

At first blush, the idea of meeting everyone in the village likely seemed a fool's errand at best. However, given the smaller size of Tanbogakure, it could be done if one were disciplined. Far too many leaders of larger villages lacked a personal connection with those they governed. They went to war and made peace based on personal feelings and inclinations, not bothering to think of the lives they would be risking. A leader, in Yasahiro's opinion, was a servant more than anything else, and what better way to serve his village than to get to know the people who called it home?

Seiichi heard the man through the door and reached down to grab the handle. After turning it and walking in he gently shut it behind him and stood there. The map was the first thing that grasped his attention, but it quickly shifted to the Village leader. His stomach was doing flips. Was he going to get in trouble for practically pounding on the door? What did he want? Oh, they must have seen me doze off while on watch that one time. He thought. His stomach flipped again. Before He Seiichi could get a word out the Leader appologized for the cryptic message. "Nothing bad" He said. So, he wasn't in trouble for anything?

"Oh, you had me worried for a minute sir!" He said and scratched the top of his head.

Seiichi took the seat. The chair was actually pretty comfortable. He wondered if all of this furniture was here before him or if he had it brought in. Was this man rich, or? Seiichi suppressed all of the inward questions.

"T-Tea would be nice." He said as his nervous shown through. "So, what did you want to see me about sir?" He couldn't help but ask the question. "If it's nothing bad... if it is... well, you can take your time." He nervously laughed.

Ugh. he thought, I really have to learn to control that. He thought, thinking about his words and actions. Maybe there was some technique he could learn to get rid of nervous ticks, not jutsu, but maybe deep breathing, or that mindfulness stuff. He placed the thought in the back of his mind. Suppress.

He took a moment to look around the room as the Village leader grabbed the drinks. It seemed well kept. But as he soaked it in, it was more like an office building though. Cabinets along the wall. A map of the village. The nicest thing in the room had to be the desk and chair they were sitting at. Maybe he wasn't from a wealthy family like his father had told him. No doubt just rumors from the rocks, or those late night Shogi games he has been playing, it's been his fathers favorite pass-time for the last few months now.

Seiichi's stomach settled a bit after taking the look. His hands were still a bit sweaty, and his face was probably red from that embarrassing comment a moment ago, but other than that his mind started to clam a bit. This isn't so bad. he told him self. Not yet. The devil on his shoulder whispered calmly into his ear.

Seiichi's stomach flipped as he gulped.

[wc 449 = 923]

"Yuumi," the leader spoke into the intercom by his desk. "Can you bring us two cups of that ginger tea we got last week?"

Roughly a week ago, a small caravan of merchants from Tea Country arrived in Tanbogakure. They brought with them trinkets from the east, an overabundance of ryo, and, of course, tea all in the hopes of cornering the market on the latest bumper crop of rice. Such a monopoly would, however, never do, and they left empty-handed save for a few token concessions. Fortunately, in their hasty departure, they did not rescind their gift to Yasahiro of a generous chest of teas with varieties ranging from mundane to the fantastic. The ginger tea, while it fell more into the mundane category, quickly became a favorite of the Komekage despite—or perhaps because of—its rather biting aftertaste.

"Please, call me Yasahiro," the samurai said, returning his attention to Seiichi as the intercom cut out with a crackle. "Formality has its time and place, but it is neither here nor now. I just want to get to know you a bit better, and for you to do the same with me."

The far door swung open, interrupting the conversation and revealing a middle-aged woman in formal attire, Yuumi. Along with her came the spicy aroma of ginger mingled with the smell of the woman's strong jasmine perfume. Placing a steaming cup in front of both men, she then left after a curt bow and a good-natured nod of acknowledgment from the village leader.

"So," he took an exploratory sip of his tea. "Tell me about yourself. Who exactly is Seiichi Kittaru?"

A strange question to be sure, but one whose answer could turn out to be quite revealing and hopefully didn't add to the nervousness of the genin. After all, a hardened warrior might very well think of themselves as a mother or father first and solider second or a ruthless warlord consider themselves a peacekeeper—appearances tended towards deception. The words one used to describe oneself and the perspective they brought always fascinated the Komekage. Then again, perhaps he thought too much about such things, and it all meant nothing in the end. Who was to say?

Nodding along with Seiichi, Yasahiro took intermittent sips of tea as he listened. For a son of a sailor, the man had ambition, a trait shockingly lacking in shinobi and kunoichi the world over. Far too many found a comfortable position behind their village walls and stayed there until the end of their days. Such a lifestyle lent itself to a long life at the cost of a life well-lived. A single shinobi or kunoichi with a fire in their heart was, in the Komekage's opinion, worth a dozen without. Yes, he could definitely work with Seiichi's desire to prove himself.

"How long have I been here now?" he asked himself aloud, bringing a finger to his bearded chin. "I suppose it's been about nine months give or take a few weeks. When I first arrived there wasn't much of a centralized village to speak of beyond a few disparate farming hubs, and Zukumiki's men held much of the country.

Pausing, he took a sip of tea and savored the acidic bite of ginger at the back of his throat before continuing.

"I was fortunate enough to cross paths with Lord Naito," a slim smile slipped across the man's face, recalling his first meeting with the once-deposed feudal lord. "We found common cause in ousting Zukumiki from the immediate area, and the idea of Tanbogakure grew from there. With his established connections in the country, and the small fortune I was able to scrape together we made the village what it is today, more or less—I'm afraid it's not a very interesting story. Though, truth be told, I think that, much like you, I have yet to earn my title."

"As for family," he met Seiichi's gaze, fearful that his own expression might betray him. "That's a bit more difficult, I'm afraid. The only family member I'm close to now is Asahi, my cousin. He's actually here in the village now. I'm sure you'll meet him at some point; he's a bit eccentric, but he's been by my side through thick and thin. The rest of my family is a bit more complicated."

The Komekage's gaze dropped to the dossier from earlier, and he pushed back from the desk. Nearly two years had passed since the incident. Yet, he still saw the growing pool of blood about his brother's body every time he closed his eyes. Even in his most private of moments, he shoved the memory into the dark corners of his mind in a vain attempt to hide from it, but the conversation pulled the image to the fore once more as if it were just yesterday.

"I'm originally from the Land of Iron," he moved to the window overlooking the village below as he continued. "My family and I fell out after a dispute, and I haven't seen them for years...If I'm lucky, I'll get to see them again one day—my brother especially, I miss him horribly."

Returning from the window wearing a grim face, the village leader took a seat. Nothing he said was a lie, but still his conscience rebelled against the words he spoke. And so he began the painful process of repressing the memory of his long-lost family all over again. Perhaps this time it would stay buried away from the world as he always intended.

"What about you?" the Komekage gave a half nod. "Family that is, have you always lived in Rice Country?"

Nine months. Seiichi thought, I must have been gone a lot longer than I thought. Seiichi had been traveling with his father, going from one village to the next, to all of the ones that had docks anyway. Selling wears, food, rice, and other grains. He hasn't realized just how much time they spent on board his father's vessel until now. Almost 19 years they were moving around. It took his father all that time to decide to live in this village, somewhere nice an small, and quiet. All along not knowing or understand the village politics, who ran what, or who was in charge. The docks must have given his father a since of false security. That's all he could really gather in the quick moments of the conversation at least.

Not interesting? Who was this Lord Naito? By what means exactly did you use to 'oust' Zukumiki? Who was Zukumiki? A bunch of questions emerged in Seiichi's mind. Not wanting to disclose just how clueless he was, after all he was a Shinobi, he should already know all of this, he opted for the more indirect route, "Did you have anyone keep record during those times, I know they weren't that long ago, but maybe there is some written history, something I can read to get all caught up?" He said, raising his hand to scratch his head, and smiling nervously. It was always more obvious to others just how clueless he was, even when he thought he was pulling the wall over their eyes.

After hearing about where he was from Seiichi quickly asked, "Doesn't the land of Iron still use Samurai? Where did you learn your ninjutsu?" He said.

Seiichi could almost feel the sadness in the man's voice. He has been there plenty of times himself, lost without those who truly know you. He quickly assumed that they actually had more in common than he originally predicted. Though, he was older than Seiichi, and grew along side his family, he could see how it was almost a blessing to have just never known them in the first place. There wasn't much there to 'miss', but a hole was present nonetheless.

"No." Seiichi squirmed in the chair, then took a quick gulp of the tea that was brought to them. "My father, the sailor, he owned a merchant vessel. We traveled a lot until a few months ago. My father decided it was time for retirement, sold the ship, bought a house, and a Shogi board, and we have lived here ever since." Seiichi said. There was obvious distaste behind the word, "shogi". As much as he was happy his father was happy, he hated how he forced him to play that awful game now, and again. There was something about being told he had to do something, why can't people just ask? He thought, sipping his tea. 

"So, the village just kinda, fell into your lap then, huh?" He asked, "or is there more to this land than the responsibility of taking away, "leadership", the good or the bad, and having to replace it?" As soon as the words left his mouth he almost regretted it. "Sorry, that might have came out more rude than it was intended, uh, Yasahiro." He smiled nervously.

[wc 548 = 1991]

"I'm afraid recordkeeping is something that's fallen by the wayside. Save for a few disparate documents, I don't have much to show you in the way of reading material," the samurai shrugged. "At one point we had an archivist, Momoko Shinobu, but she was a far better warrior than a librarian. Since her return to fieldwork, finding a replacement has been, well, difficult to say the least."

Truth be told, the idea of a comprehensive history rarely crossed the Komekage's mind. Far too many unknowns existed on both sides of the equation that investing even one person's time in the project bordered on negligence. Especially in Tanbogakure's infancy, said person could be busying themselves with a thousand other things that might move the village forward in a more material way. Perhaps, however, the time was fast approaching that a written history might serve to propel Tanbogakure rather than hinder it—tradition, it seemed to the leader, had a certain power to inform the present to an almost disturbing extent.

"My mother taught me ninjutsu and chakra control," he waved to the blade propped up against the side of his desk. "However, you're right about the samurai bit, and I still far prefer a sword. Though, I suspect my family would laugh me out of house and home if they saw how I fought now."

Slinging jutsu and weaving hand seals lacked a certain personal touch one found in more physical combat. The crossing of blades and clashing of fists provided a visceral window into an opponent's mindset and goals. Without it combat became a surgical operation meant only to kill and maim, not to understand and discern; a set of skills that shinobi forgot about all too often, leaving them as mindless killing machines and nothing more.

"Shogi?" the leader smiled. "It's an acquired taste to be sure."

In his younger years, Yasahiro spent his days playing games of every sort from hopscotch to shogi and everything in between. Of late, the busy schedule of a village leader precluded such frivolities for the most part. However, when he was able to, he would sneak in a game or two with his cousin over a drink. Childish? Probably, but everyone needed something to unwind with at the end of the day.

"It didn't come off as rude in the slightest, and I sometimes wonder the same thing," he furrowed his brow. "In a way, yes, I was in the right place at the right time, but I also think that because I am where I am today that I have a responsibility to leave this country a better place than I found it for everyone who calls it home.

He finished off the last of his tea.

"At the risk of treading into the esoteric, a leader's job is twofold, in my opinion. On one hand, they must lead. Then, on the other hand, they must also serve those they lead. As with anything in life, there's a balance to be struck between 'servant' and 'leader'. And it's certainly not a balance I've been able to strike just yet, unfortunately. In that same vein, and out of curiosity, what's your take on Tanbogakure as it stands now? Are we moving in the right direction?"

"Well, the village does seem cleaner, the people are nice, as long as you help out in the fields once in a while." He smiled. "And I have noticed a little more commerce these last few weeks. So, it would look to me that the village is in a stead incline." Seiichi wasn't one to get into politics or to notice a lot of the minutia. Everything he said was true, but the whole, "more ships" thing he got from his father. If he was going to be a ninja, and gather information, he is going to have to learn to keep his eyes open a little wider. "I'd say for things just falling into place like that, you are doing a fine job." Seiichi smiled.

He finished the last of his tea and stood up out of his chair. The room was starting to feel it's size now. Not too large, but not too crowded. It was a sign his nerves were calming down a bit, that his blood pressure and heart rate were slowing, that he was becoming comfortable talking to the man, even though he was the leader of the village. He would love to see if he could spend more time around the man. His father will see it as Seiichi was listening to him, and Seiichi would have to be ok with that. Fathers win now and again.

"Maybe I can be your, new "archivists"" He said, "I promise I won't let it effect my effectiveness on the battle field." Seiichi could see how that could be concern for a growing village. The leader would want all of his men at their best. "A lot of it I might have to get from you, but the rest, I am sure they have store rooms of documents somewhere around here." He said, thinking aloud. "Heck, maybe you can show me a thing or two with your sword. It would be a great bit in the book, a little history about where you came from, how you defeated this, 'Zukimiki' guy, what techniques you might have employed." Seiichi actually started to think it might be fun. Plus, who knows what else he would find digging through the bowels of this old building.

Leading was definitely a servants job. Only after being a servant can you know how you should treat your men. You were there, you know what they were going through, how they think. You could understand, and make sure that they understand, that they aren't just numbers, even if they are given a number. If given the opportunity, he would be sure to mention just how good of a leader this man was. He hoped that the more time he spent with him would just make him grow fonder.

[wc 464 - twc 2455]

A half-smile slipped across the Komekage's face upon hearing Seiichi's assessment of the village, not because it was incorrect but because it varied so greatly from the leader's own take on it. Through sleepless nights, mind-numbing meetings, and endless uncertainty, the village always felt to be on the brink of some disaster or another. Then again, perhaps that was the lot of any leader: to bear unseen burdens so that those they lead do not have to. Though, even that sounded a bit pretentious to the man—oh well, 'a fine job' was good enough for him at this point in the village's life.

"I wouldn't be opposed to working with you to document our village's history," he stood up with Seiichi and made his way around the desk. "And I'd be happy to go a few rounds with you as well, it's been a while since I've had the privilege of teaching someone else."

His gaze danced over the blade by his desk. The last time he'd faced a comparable opponent was back in the Land of Iron in a spar against his father. Since then, Asahi, his cousin, proved to be a pushover when it came to blade work. He talked a big game—as he did about most things—but lacked both the skill and experience to make their bouts little more than a spirited warm-up. Perhaps teaching another would serve to fill the void created by the lack of a rival—if he couldn't find a skilled individual, then perhaps he could nurture one.

"As for the chapter on Zukumiki, I'm afraid I won't be able to provide you a satisfactory conclusion just yet, but maybe you can help with that too..."

The warlord remained a permanent fixture in the southern half of Rice Country. Behind an impenetrable line of outposts and countless well-outfitted men at arms, Zukumiki maintained a strong presence that rivaled the continued ascendency of Tanbogakure. In time, a final showdown would surely precipitate. In the meantime, however, all the Komekage could do was prepare for what would become a struggle for the very soul of all the inhabitants of Rice Country.

"Yasahiro," the intercom crackled to life once more. "Lord Naito is requesting your presence."

The line went dead with an electronic beep.

"Ah," the Komekage frowned. "I guess that's my cue. Seiichi, it's been a pleasure talking with you. Please stop by again some time, and perhaps we can cross blades. I'll also ensure that you have access to our limited archives—I look forward to seeing what you might dig up."

In a few strides, the man stood by the door and held it open for his erstwhile visitor. If Naito wanted to see him this late in the day, then it couldn't be anything good. However, simply leaving Seiichi without seeing him out seemed, in the leader's opinion, more than a bit rude. The feudal lord of the rice could wait a few more minutes, it wouldn't hurt him to exercise some patience.

---
Exit.
TWC: 2449
+ 288 words towards Clanless Pureblood, fully trained (1249 words + 463 words + 288 words = 2000/2000)
+ 840 words towards Lightness Skill, fully trained (160 words + 840 words = 1000/1000)
+ 500 to fully train Feint
+ 821 words towards Heavenly Body
+ 48 ap from max stat training