Poe Man's Dreams

Spoiler:

The morning air was crisp, as Zokuro's early jog took him throughout the inner city of Kumogakure. Above the village were the warming rays of the sun, casting their glow of greeting upon their descendants. And amongst them was a hue of orange and blue skies which cascaded elegantly amongst the clouds. Along the limited amount of greenery that Zoku jogged past were due, symbolic of the condensed water vapor in the air. And to add to the ambience were birds chirping their singing song, which was the only noise aside from the pitter patter of Sarutobi's pace. It was common for him to go on these morning runs, and what came after was typically a rigorous training regiment. So in his mind, today would be no different.

As he jogged his mind wandered off, reflecting on the most pressing issue of his life at this point in time. The Gorilla could not seem to shake the fact that his shinobi records had been lost over the years, which effectively reset his progress as a ninja. It felt as if all of his hard work had been taken and stripped from him. Normally things like this had a way of working themselves out, and Zokuro was relatively perceptive to this fact. However he couldn't help but feel like he had a chip on his shoulder, as if he had something to prove. To whom? He wasn't quite sure. Perhaps to himself. Maybe he needed to remind himself that although he currently bore the rank of Genin, his experiences and capabilities told a different story. As he ran and thought more on the subject, he'd come to theorize that perhaps the stress this was bringing him was related to his upbringing as a workhand around his clan's farm. The manual labor was less than stimulating, and so perhaps the thought of failing as a shinobi led to a subsequent thought of having to return to the farm life. Although he still helped tend to his family's farm occasionally, the idea of returning to that full time and leading a life of mediocrity was unsettling.

His run had taken him just outside of the training grounds at this point, and though he had been going for over an hour he had not really worked up a sweat. It was a testament to his cardiovascular endurance, as well as his resilience to the absorbed heat from his black clothing. This could have been due to his Sarutobi nature and Ash affinity, meaning he himself was born to withstand the heat. And it was almost as if he was born to withstand both the heat and pressure of moments like this, where his will was tested. But during times like these, he calmed himself by thinking of Shogi. To him, he was either a gold or silver general, so it was important to maintain his composure and premeditate all of his actions. To help with this, he'd light a cigarette and sit upon a bench just outside the training grounds. Leaning back in his chair, he'd lift and fold one leg over the other so that his ankle rested upon his knee. And in silence, he thought. Hoping that this reflected allowed him to center himself before today's training session.

WC = 546

Herozen rolled over and pressed the snooze button on his alarm, “I just need five more minutes.” He said as he closed his eyes. Just then the light in his room turned on as the smell of ozone filled Herozen’s small bedroom. “Get up, Herozen; you started the academy late in your life; there are eight-year-olds with more experience than you. You’ll need to work harder to catch up to your full potential.” Herozen’s mom, Takunare, said in a sharp straight-to-the-point tone. Herozen’s mother, Takunare, was Herozen’s idol, the pinnacle of the idea of Uchiha in Herozen’s eye. She was a jounin for the village of Kumogakure, where she had accomplished high-level missions since Herozen was a small child. “We are from the mighty Uchiha clan, I allowed you to try your hand at a different profession than the one I dreamed for you when you were first born. Look at your brother; he’s a chuunin at seventeen.” Herozen groaned as he rolled over and turned off his alarm. “Alright, mom, I’ll get up. I’m going to have a smoke and then get ready.” He said as he walked over to his dresser, where his pack of cigarettes lay securely in their pack. He flicked one out, held it to his mouth, and sparked his lighter. He pulled a few times before putting it in his ashtray and placing the cigarette in its pack. Herozen quickly got ready and dressed.
Herozen walked out of his room and into the kitchen to grab a cup of tea where he spotted his father. “Good morning, Herozen, are you off to start training? I know it took you a while to recognize your dream of being a shinobi. Understand your mother and I are always available for help.” He smiled at Herozen as he poured tea for him. Yokuba Uchiha was just an ordinary man save for the black eyes and black hair that most Uchiha was known to have. Herozen loved his dad, but he used him as a minimum. If he just did the minimum, he would wind up just like him, forty-one and just a subpar jounin teacher in the academy. Herozen was disappointed in his father and couldn’t use Uchiha’s famous Sharingan, unlike Herozen’s mother and brother. Herozen grabbed his cup of tea and gulped it down. “Thank you, Dad. I’ll see you at the academy later for class.” He said as he bowed and exited the Uchiha house.
As Herozen ran toward the training grounds, he was so lost in thought that he wasn’t aware of the sun beginning to peak over the horizon, casting orange and purple into the clouds as the earth began to heat up. The air cut deep into Herozen’s skin through his clothing. The rhythmic beating of his feet as he raced through the streets of the sleepy city helped his thoughts invade his mind, even though the cold air kept him in reality. He was thinking about his mom's words from earlier; his brother was a gifted shinobi, a chuunin with the abilities of the Sharingan; what if he could never awaken his? What if he failed the academy and brought shame to his family name? If you were looking at Herozen, you would never have been able to tell he was worried. The man exuded confidence even if he was filled with self-doubt. Herozen picked up the pace and needed to train to prove to himself and his family that he could also be a powerful shinobi like his brother and mother.
As Herozen approached the training ground, he reached into his pocket for his pack and found his partially smoked cigarette from earlier in the morning. He reached into his other pocket to find his lighter, and instantly, his mood was ruined. “Ah, come on. Please don’t tell me I left the fucking thing at home.” Herozen whispered to himself as he patted down his pockets in vain. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Herozen got a little bit louder; he wanted to smoke before he started training. After a few moments, he smelled the sweet aroma of cigarettes from one of the park benches. He finally noticed the man sitting on the bench; he was darker than most shinobi and had braided long black hair. He hadn’t noticed Herozen’s outburst, or if he had, he hadn’t looked over at Herozen quite yet. “Uh, excuse me, I have forgotten my lighter at home. Could I bother you for a light?” Herozen said, regretting having to ask this stranger for a lighter; he felt so irresponsible.

WC: 764

The cigarette within Zokuro's grasp smoldered with its ash dancing in the breeze. His eyes fell upon their dance, and as they would his mind couldn't shake that thought that how they blew away was akin to the fleeting of his career highlights among the lost files. Zoku would exhale, allowing the smoke to coalesce in a swirling motion before dissipating in the air. With each puff of his cigarette his mind cleared more, and his worries started the fade. However the gravity of the situation remained. There was still more of the game to play. He'd think on this more, and how it was somewhat similar to shogi, where even if one lost many pieces they still had a path to victory. It was a matter of playing one's pieces correctly. The long play. Strategy beyond the present. This idea brought him some peace, as another comforting element about the situation was that it was reported the Raikage had already begun investigating the matter. And like all Kage which he served before the Twelfth, Zokuro had complete confidence in him to make the best move. Hopefully, this would be Zo's path to victory. So while he smoked he reflected on this, he trusted that even if his board was in a state of disarray, he'd find his place once things were resolved. Similar to how the ash from his cigarette settled on the ground beneath his feet. 

When the cigarette was finished and only its stub remained, the Gorilla's mind segued to the next topic. He'd smother the ember and flick its butt, precisely so that it landed in a nearby wastebasket, right as another shinobi began to approach him. Interestingly enough this shinobi also seemed to be in a state of frustration. Although his words suggested that it was simply due to forgetting his lighter and needing a cigarette, which Zo understood all too well, his demeanor portrayed a facade of confidence. Zokuro's own eyes would flicker, taking in the appearance of the man which bore a similar statue to his own, thus much stockier. Perhaps the fighter type. Though the heavy jacket and cargo pants he wore seemed relatively restrictive, so perhaps not.

In any case, Zokuro would unfold his leg and rise to his feet to look the man in his eyes. He'd stuff both hands into their respective pockets, and from the left one he'd grab ahold of his trusty lighter. Pulled his hand from the pocket, it was revealed to be a picture of sleek gun metal black composition, accented by ornate designs of contrasting light grey ash. The edges of the lighter along with its lid were made of silver, which matched the silver jewelry which its own displayed in his necklace and earrings. Those same silver edges were in the shape of monkey figure engraving, a testament to his lineage's close connection to their summoning race. 

With the lighter in his hand, he'd give it a light toss to the man which stood only two meters from him. He'd expect him to catch it, though if he were to fumble and drop it, Zo would certainly be disappointed. But assuming that he did indeed catch it, the Sarutobi would respond to the man.

"Been there before," he'd offer to make the man's forgetfulness normalized. He'd pause before continuing, "The name's Zo. Can't say I've seen you around before. You new?" Zokuro's last comment was an indirect way of saying that after his two decades of servitude to Kumogakure's forces, he was somewhat astonished that he did not recognize the man before him. Based on his stature and the fact that he stood outside the training grounds suggested that he was was a shinobi as well. But given that Zokuro was unfamiliar with him, potentially he had been a new recruit. 

WC = 638. TWC = 1184

Herozen hadn’t noticed the shinobi was in deep thought before he uncrossed his legs and stood up. He caught eye contact from the stranger as he fished around in his left pocket. It was a quick transference hand from pocket to lighter sailing in the air towards Herozen. With every ounce of grace Herozen could muster, he stretched out his hand and caught the sleek gunmetal black lighter Zo passed to him. “Thank you very much, today would have been the absolute worst if I couldn’t have a smoke before training.” He smiled at Zo. “It’s good to meet you, Zo, mine’s Herozen.” He said the last two syllables mumbled as he held the cigarette in his lips and lit the beautiful torch in his hands. “I am a new shinobi, and I just joined the academy. I was actually going to train a bit before class started so I don’t look like a complete newbie in front of the children.” He said with a slight chuckle. Herozen puffed a few more times, realizing he held onto the lighter a bit longer than he should have. He glanced at it and realized just how beautiful the object was.

He held out his hand to return the lighter and puffed away. The cold air didn’t bother the shinobi as much anymore. With this precious cigarette, he could focus and banish his nerves.  He thought about the awkwardness he was about to face with being the only adult in his class, he suspected. Was this really his path? He was an excellent entrepreneur and a decent cook. He would be the eldest in his class. He thought between puffs of his cigarette.

Zo brought peace to the situation for Herozen. He’d forgotten how many people frequently asked him for a lighter. He’s right; this is a minor inconvenience at worst; why was Herozen so nervous? It’s like ever since his girlfriend got captured by bandits, Herozen hasn’t been the calm, cool, and collected person he was used to being. He knew he’d have to work through that, and joining the academy was just the first step. He would learn the shinobi way and gain his confidence back. He drew the cigarette down to the filter, flicked the burning cherry onto the hard ground a short distance from his foot, and stamped it out.

Honestly, Herozen didn’t even know what he was planning on doing for training. He hadn’t done much of it, and his parents were always helping his brother, who chose to be a shinobi as a child. Should I just run laps? How would that help? Maybe throw a few shurikens? Now Herozen was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed. This Zo guy seemed alright by him; maybe he’d have an idea. The older shinobi would probably have a few ideas. Herozen had already bothered him

“Any tips for a beginner?” Herozen asked, hoping Zo might be in a charitable mood. How annoying must I be? A twenty-one-year-old academy student must be awkward for him to address. It’d be like talking to an adult going to primary school. Now Herozen blushed in embarrassment as he looked at the Genin back in the eyes. Would it be a shame he saw in those calming eyes or acceptance?

WC: 546
TWC: 1310

Zokuro was completely understanding of the predicament this Herozen had been in. It was never easy to curb the cravings of a cigarette, especially when the stresses of life and its obstacles were ever so present. And to be without one, because of forgetting a lighter, was almost like a punishment. But Heorzen confirmed Zokuro's suspicions, he was indeed a new shinobi. One which seemed to admire Zoku's reliable lighter. When offered his flame back, the Gorilla would extend his hand to grab ahold of it then return it to its rightful resting place. Following this, Zo would offer a pleasantry of his own and a response to Herozen's status.

"Nice to meet you as well." The man was a little taken back that this older gentlemen was an Academy Student, though everyone developed at their own pace. Besides the current Raikage had also started his shinobi career later in his life. "My suggestion to you is to disregard whatever notions you have about the Academy and how you'll come across. It's highly likely there will be others your age which are newly enrolled as well."

He'd pause, briefly enough to smell the scent of Herozen's own cigarette. The way he had been smoking it suggested that he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Perhaps there was a separate stressor which was making him feel discouraged as an older Academy student. But when he'd conclude his cigarette by putting it out on the street when there was a perfectly good wastebasket only a few feet away, Zokuro was slightly vexed. Not enough to comment, but instead he offered a sigh with a slight shaking of his head. This mannerism was subtle, not enough for either man to focus on.

Following this the student inquired if Zokuro had any tips for a rookie shinobi. Seeing as he had experience beyond his rank, he certainly did have some advice. "It depends on what you're looking for. In general though, I always found success when I casted aside my doubts and focused on my own development. Outside of classes and instructions. My biggest growth has always been a result of hard work, training, and being challenged during missions." He'd refrain, glancing towards the training grounds, then look back upon Herozen. "I suppose the training grounds is why we're both here today. If you want, I can teach you a few jutsu. Whether it be the basic ones to prepare for your eventual Genin test, or something more sophisticated."

WC = 418. TWC = 1602

“Well,” Herozen thought out loud as he put the butt of his cigarette into the pack he pulled it from. “I think a cool genjutsu or some form of ninjutsu would be cool.” Herozen thought it over. He really didn’t know exactly what he wanted to learn from this guy. What was the extent of this guy's abilities? Herozen decided to try to size this guy up again. His mom and brother had been teaching him different strategies when they had the time. “Hey, do you know anything about one handed seals? That might make me stand out amongst the rest if I was able to show that off.” Herozen was starting to get worked up and motivated. “Honestly, whatever you want to teach me I’m sure it would be a big help.”

The air was starting to warm up, and Herozen knew he only had a few more hours to train before class started. It made him anxious thinking about his first day, but if he thought about Zo’s words about older people being in the academy with him, this gave Herozen a chance to breathe. Were there really others who would be his age? This motivated Herozen to do his best. His mom's words rang in his head, “You’ll need to work harder to catch up to your full potential.” That work would start here, and thanks to Zo, he would have some solid instruction. Maybe after this training session, he could work on training alone.

Herozen took a breath and looked at Zo; he seemed like a guy who knew what he was talking about. Herozen didn’t notice the angular and sharp facial features; they made him look more masculine. As he looked into the older shinobi’s eyes, he caught a wave of calm, almost disarming, but he knew this shinobi was a killer and was capable and quick-witted. The look in his eyes was that of being detached as if this situation wasn’t something he was looking forward to, but he was focused, and Herozen knew Zo wasn’t about to slack off in training, even if Herozen was nowhere near his level. This made Herozen want to impress Zo in the training. Herozen thought about the line, “My biggest growth has always been a result of hard work, training, and being challenged during missions.”  Was he willing to work hard to become a great shinobi? He was here to train, but he was practically forced to come out here by his mom; no, she’s not out here training for him. Herozen knew he had what it took to put in the hard work and train as hard as possible.

“Don’t go easy on me!” Herozen said with a renewed vigor. “What’s the first thing you want to teach me?” Herozen asked as he stretched to get himself physically ready. He was now focused and determined to impress his new friend and learn at least one new jutsu to impress his mom and brother and show them he had what it took to become a great shinobi. Herozen was starting to warm up from the stretching he was doing. No point in getting hurt before he goes to class from a pulled muscle.

WC: 536
TWC:1846