One Thousand Raindrops [P]

It started with a single drop; one drop become two, two three, three four, and so on and so on until the low-hanging sky above Tanbogakure wept in earnest. Rushing rivulets ran parallel to unfinished streets, ever-changing constellations of tears painted windowpanes, and gutters gushed water down onto the heads of the unfortunate few who lacked the foresight to look up. The rainy season of Rice County certainly lived up to its name and then some—a far cry from the snow and cold one might find in the Land of Iron at this time of year.

Sheltered from the pitter-patter of the rain by a corrugated metal roof, Yasahiro waited for the village's newest archivist. Before him stood the latest addition to the military district: a top-of-the-line training grounds. Outfitted with training dummies, a sizable armory, and a few makeshift arenas, the plot of land that once held a run-down barracks took on a new life as a training ground. From daybreak to nightfall—and sometimes beyond—the shinobi and kunoichi of Tanbogakure could be found honing their craft both alone and in pairs. In a few short months, the village had come a long way and one could be, in Yasahiro's opinion, forgiven if they thought the village bigger than it was after seeing only the training grounds.

"Strike through your centerline, Kazuko," he called out to his diminutive assistant. "You're losing power by not putting your full weight into the strikes."

The only heir to the Taika name, Kazuko Taika spent much of her days working for the village behind a desk. However, as of late and through repeated requests, she had taken to practicing with a blade under the tutelage of the Komekage. While her parents would have certainly disapproved, the woman did not much care and reveled in furthering her grasp of the shinobi arts.

"Good, that's it," yielding to the woman's blade, the training dummy split down the center. "Perfect, now do it again."

Leaning up against the support beam at his back, Yasahiro cast a glance towards the entrance to the training grounds. Earlier in the week, he had requested a meeting with Seiichi to not only continue their previous conversation around the archives but also to make good on his promise to 'show him a thing or two' as the genin had put it when they first met. Of the many shinobi of Tanbogakure, Seiichi showed talent and, in Yasahiro's opinion, it was a leader's job to nurture talent lest it go to waste or, worse yet, astray.

---

WC: 426
TWC: 426

Kazuko Taika's Stat Page and Story

Rain fell from the heavens in lively waves that coated the village as the sky gave way to it's triumphant roar. Seiichi always imagined that someone was up there, laughing as people ran for cover, as to avoid getting wet. He himself couldn't help giggle at some of it himself as he walked through the streets hiding under an umbrella. It was black and grey striped with a long wooden handle that curved for ease of grip. Streams of water fell off of it as he made his way to the training center. The Kage, Village leader, rather, requested his audience. He wasn't sure what for exactly, but he thought it might have something to do with his data collection. He held a rather large scroll on his back, it wasn't nearly as full as it might have looked; the thing was three feet long long and about a foot thick, attached to him by a thick braided, gold and white rope that crossed his body.

He closed the umbrella before walking into the training grounds. Leaned it on the wall and then pushed the doors open. This was actually the first time inside the building. He documented the construction and their progress over time. But hasn't found time to practice in there. There was arenas and dummies. Everything that a growing ninja might need to increase in their skills. A true gem for the village, he could see that now. He made a mental note to document the experience, his first impressions, which could be valuable to someone looking for ideas on architecture, or even just see what the architecture of this time was. Then his glance fell on Yasahiro.

Lifting his arm in a wave. "How are you friend?" He asked as he approached. "Not letting the bureaucracy hold you down I can see."

It was funny. Seiichi didn't feel as nervous as he used to be, he hoped that his friendliness didn't come off as rude to the man. Seiichi understood their positions, and didn't have an ounce of disrespect for him. He was a Genin. Yasahiro was his superior, and Seiichi would gladly take any orders of him, short of falling on his own blade.

His gaze fell to the practicing women. He couldn't recall her name at the moment, but it seemed she was coming along with the sword. Trained by the village leader, there was no doubt she had some talent in it.

"Teaching us your ways I see." He smiled.

Seiichi was wearing a black robe, that lay over normal Tanbo ninja clothes. His wakizashi was hanging on his belt to his left.

WC:440

Something seemed different about Seiichi as he made his way across the training grounds, he was not the same man Yasahiro remembered from their first meeting. Of course, there was the scroll and the sword, both were certainly new additions. However, there was also something else that the Komekage couldn't quite put his finger on. Was he walking a bit taller? Were his movements more fluid? Did he hold his head a bit higher?

"I'm well," he replied and matched Seiichi's wave with a more subdued one of his own. "And I try my best, I can't very well stay cooped up in my office all day."

Ah, yes, confidence, that was it: Seiichi seemed more confident. Or, at the very least, he was less nervous than before. The Seiichi he remembered stumbled over a few words and deferred to authority far more than Yasahiro thought prudent at the time. Now, however, he appeared more relaxed and at ease in his own skin. It was a great step to see; shinobi, after all, had no room to stand on ceremony or wallow in their comfort zone when every mission could mean life or death.

"Teaching under duress, I'm afraid." He nodded over to where the Taika scion still practiced with her blade. "Kazuko here wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I didn't show her a thing or two."

If Kazuko heard her leader then she didn't turn her attention away from the task at hand, though the dummy did crumple before her blade with a bit more violence than it did the first time. Emotions, when properly channeled and controlled, could be a strong tool and allow even beginners to surpass their perceived limits.

"So," he returned his full attention to Seiichi without moving away from the support beam at his back. "Tell me, how fares the archive work, they're quite the mess aren't they?"

The dusty record rooms beneath Okada Castle were far from organized. Lord Naito, the current feudal lord of and political benefactor of Tanbogakure, was many things but a fastidious librarian he was not. Cobwebs clung to scrolls, the scent of mildew dominated the air, and sharp shadows danced about in the lantern light as if to hide secrets in their grasp; in all, it seemed a place where information went to die. Yet, somewhere in the poorly lit catacombs, one could find the history of Rice Country from its highest highs to its lowest lows, if only one had the wit and will to unravel it all—Yasahiro hoped Seiichi had both.

---

WC: 430
TWC: 856

"That is an understatement." He laughed. "Most of those boxes were covered in an inch of dust before I got to them, and I'm afraid its going to get messier before it gets cleaner. Trying to organize it all. I feel only then I will be able to make a proper study of it." Seiichi said.

Seiichi was happy that the man didn't take any offense to his lackadaisical way of communication. And decided to continue the way he was going. After all, it would be odd to switch back to using, "sir" or, "Komekaga". 

"I have been coming across odd history related to Konoha though. Were you aware they controlled this village for some time?" He asked.

Seiichi always looked at Konoha like a beacon of light, not warlords. But he also knew that in order to control a nation, you need to have power, income, and enough food for your people. If taking over a nation was the only way to ensure those things, he could see Tanbo doing the same thing. He just hopes he his ready when he gets those hard orders.

Seiichi has been careful to not let the boxes of data take up too much of his time. He has been practicing his skills and learning new jutsu the best he can. Carving out a few hours here and there in the morning for exercise, a few hours for cleaning the and sorting the information, and a few hours he would spend with his father in the evening. Anything in between he was spending the time with his summons and reading rather dry histories or other books his friends suggested.

"So, while we are here." Seiichi took off his black robe and blade, and set the scroll down next to them gently. Then, walking over to the bokuto that hung on the wall he grabbed two of them. "How about I show you what the Tanbogakure academy has been teaching us lately?" He tossed the man one of the wooden katana.

Seiichi wasn't a fool, this man would smoke him using a sword, but he was trying to be playful and funny. He did have a trick of his own up his sleeve, something his summons had taught him. Using the whistling of his lips to cast jutsu, it would come in handy in a situation like this, where one of his hands were occupied.

WC: 401
TWC: 841

"Konoha?" Yasahiro's face contorted into a frown as he recalled the many history lessons he once sat through. "Unfortunately, they have not always been the most peaceful neighbor. If memory serves, one of the Hokage once ruled much of the world under the banner of the Fire Nation."

Spared the sword by merit of its neutrality, the Land of Iron had remained free from the yoke of the Fire Nation. However, the rest of the world had not been nearly as lucky. Initially split between two warring nations—the Sky Nation and the Fire Nation—the world fell into the thrall of the Fire Nation after their victory over their long-time rival. For many years, Konoha thrived under the rule of the Hokage, Viper Uchiha, and could do no wrong. Until, one day, he disappeared off the face of the earth, never to be seen again.

"I don't expect that he met a savory end, however. His life's work fell apart with his disappearance and left Konoha as," he shrugged, "what it is today. Such is the end of all tyrants, I suppose."

Yasahiro, for his part, had few designs beyond the border of Rice County. The idea of sending his people off to battle on foreign shores did not sit well with the man. After all, what did they need that they could not find at home? Taking the lives and lands of another people simply because one could seemed, to the Komekage anyway, something unneeded in Tnabogakure's future. Far better to let larger nations fight it out without being drawn in—in the long run, peace paid far more than war ever could.

"Oh?" he caught the bokuto with one hand and pushed off the pillar at his back. "Anything, in particular, you'd like to focus on?"

Giving the wooden weapon a few experimental swings, Yasahiro rolled his neck and joined Seiichi on one of the smaller training fields. In truth, the leader had shied away from real combat ever since felling the unfortunate Hyuuga youth some months before. Indeed, even as he practiced the more basic kata, the poor boy's face appeared in his head, the life of a shinobi never ended well.

---

WC: 366
TWC: 1222

[OOC: I think I will stay away from combat calculations on this thread, as long as you agree/think it is appropriate.]

The Komekage's tory pretty much summarized what Seiichi had read, but in far greater detail. Historians liked to drag out their writing, filling them with so much unimportant information, that it was difficult to decipher exactly what they were talking about. Or they would use flowery words and poems to convey things, which Seiichi didn't mind, but it had the same effect. He liked them because it broke up the monotony of the long histories.

"I didn't know all of that. It can be hard to understand some of these writers. They seem to pride themselves on their many words." Seiichi closed the distance between him and the Komekage, they were about six feet apart now.

"Well, I recently learned a way to cast jutsu with my lips. By whistling." He shrugged his shoulders back while holding the bokuto out in front of him, his feet staggered and at a shoulder width apart. This was his stance, or at least what he thought was one, he had very little training with the sword. "I was wondering if there was any other way you can cast them. I have heard someone could use one hand?"

After he spoke Seiichi moved in. His step was exaggerated, giving the Komekage ample time to ready himself and block, or evade, whichever he preferred. Seiichi brought the sword up with both hands above his head. Then, as his front foot fell to the ground, lowered the "blade" to strike at the man's skull. He would be careful not to actually hit him, not yet.

Seiichi had been thinking about an opportunity to practice with the Komekage. He assumed the man's sword skills would out-match many in the village. Who better to learn from?

WC: 288
TWC: 1128

"One hand?"

A well-timed jab, a decisive slash, or a gutsy shoulder check, all would have served as a sufficient counter to Seiichi's telegraphed attack. However, Yasahiro elected, simply, to take a quick step back at the last moment, allowing his opponent's blade to bite through nothing save the empty air before him. Blade held by his right side with one hand and his left hand free, he kept shoulder-width apart with knees slightly bent, ready for Seiichi's next attack. It was far from an orthodox stance on Yasahiro's part, but sometimes one needed to try something different.

"Don't telegraph your movements so much," he gave a half nod to the Seiichi's leading foot. "Keep a strong base on the ground and strike from it."

He contorted his left hand into a single-handed ram sign.

"As for using a single hand when weaving hand signs, it's not too hard," an illusionary clone appeared to Yasahiro's right. "It just takes a bit of practice, give it a try with the ram seal."

The clone by his side faded away into nothingness leaving the two shinobi alone on the battlefield once more. The ability to weave hand seals and wield a sword at the same time provided options in combat, and the more options one had the better. However, creating these options meant spending the time to cultivate them. If Seiichi wanted to learn he would have to take the first step, and the single-handed ram seal would be just that for him.

---

WC: 251
TWC: 1473

[Sounds good to me, more than happy to make it a cinematic kind of thing rather than a mechanical one.]