AT ROSHAN PIT

The wind lapped at the water, and in the nature of things, the water lapped at the sides of the boat- ripples of disturbance finding solace in the hardened caricature of transport Akuharu currently resided on. His optics scanned the waters, leaning as he was on the side of the boat- feeling quite at home on the sea. The wooden outburst beneath him provided a number of purposes. Primarily it was a handrail for people traversing the deck. Aft to fore. Port to - Akuharu had forgotten now, been a long time since he had been on a sailing ship. And this wasn't even a sailing one, it was a fancy steam powered deal. Many of the sailors worked below the deck, only coming out when on break or their shift was over. It seemed like such a departure from the old world of seafaring that Akuharu was familiar with it slightly perturbed him. These ships were considered expensive and fairly classy by the standards of the modern world and being on leave from his Village they did occasionally splash some money in that general direction to give their shinobi a worthwhile break. Akuharu had the vauge feeling that it was normally spent on vices such as brothels, alcohol and other such frivolities. But that was the way of things unfortunately.

With a great many yells and other screamed communications, the ship came into dock at the port- its sides rubbing up against the rubber births designed to stop the ships from being dashed against the steel frame of the jetty as the tide waxed and waned as the lunar chains from the celestial bodies pulled at the liquid mass.

Disembarking with his meagre possessions, the majority of which were sealed into various artefacts that he could carry without terribly much difficulty. There was little to no way of actually telling him apart from the mass of civilian bodies aside from chakra sensory, however there was no opportunity for such an event to occur as he approached the 'Foreign Shinobi Registration Department'. Or whatever they called it, a lot of these Administration Centres were build around the same template from the founding Village.

Doing this was more of a formality then nothing else, but it made sure that if he was picked up by a Sensory Shinobi who then went and raised the alarm it meant that he had a fairly hefty sway of legal legislation in his favour so he didn't get killed. Of course, that wasn't a terribly good guarantee in the field because Shinobi quite often came at their targets with the intent to kill them almost immediately. So it was up to him to be able to hold his own until he could present a more peaceful solution to his opponent(s). Which again, might not happen. It was a risky business, travelling - however Akuharu had made sure to suppress his chakra passively for the time being so low levelled sensors would be unable to actually sense his presence for the most part. However it would not save him from the higher ranking shinobi who specialised in the art like his own Sensei.

Waiting in the lobby for a local Shinobi to come pick him up and do the whole introduction thing, he decided to unseal some of his books from a small notepad he had in his pocket which he kept the majority of the books he was reading at any one time. Some were a little more mature then others, so he only pulled a reasonably safely grounded book on the subject of Bacteriophages in the role of disposing of Gram-negative Klebsiella infections. Mostly technical with very little substance for fun between its covers.

Hopefully unlike what would happen between the time he left Kirigakure and came back.

Smoke wafted through the air as he sat down at the bar, slightly dazed but coherent and aware. The melancholic tones coming from the jukebox shoved in the corner of the drink tap honestly made his mood worse for wear, but he didn’t care all. He still sat there slowly nursing a shot of Jack that laid swirling in his crystalline glass cup. Staring down at the murky amber toned liquid he oddly reminisced about his recent problems; Oddly wondered if his depression was self caused. Surely it came out of the clear blue of no where with no real basis on anything. It’s just his life had seemed rather dull recently, sure he had acquired a student but without having seen him since the incident at the gates a few weeks prior there hadn’t been much interaction between the teacher-student pair, and now he was to take on more students to fill the void that his first created. Though honestly if he thought back it was his own fault, but truly he was busy with so many things that it was just so hard to focus, like trying to zoom in on an extremely exquisite painting to find the contour lines only to miss the beautiful hues of the work of art. Now here he was thinking about art metaphors to his problem without actually dealing with said problem. Story of his life.

But he digressed, that was them breaks. When life called, you answered, no one was perfect, no one had the expert analytical mind that could make perfect decisions and handle thousands of tasks at once at the snap of a finger. Humanity was built the way they were to provide constant hardship which would in turn eventually give them the wisdom to make sense of why they were here on this planet for so long. It’s what kept them apart from other living sentient animals. And sure they ate some special fruit that gave them powers, but the powers that be decided that the powers shouldn’t make the lives of humans easier... No. No no no. That was too easy. Humanity had to LEARN it’s mistake, or it would not grow as a species. So why does it feel like humanity hadn’t made progress, why did he feel like his life was pointless. What part did he play in this grand cycle called life. Was he just some other gopher, destined to live and die on the field, saving some other fool who would in turn save another fool who would maybe deliver a document that would do nothing more than start a war? What was the point in that? Where did he advance humanity in that? Was he not some super soldier born from a lab, given the task to live? Did he not have the genes, and the knowledge to live and succeed? So why was he so... complacent...

Head slamming on the bar counter he groaned at the headache he just caused himself, whether it was more severe from the smoke in the air or the hard ass mahogany wood, well it was up for grabs. Shrugging back up to a slouched, he leaned his head back and knocked out the shot with ease as most shinobi were able to do. Might as well down it since he bought it, no need to waste good liquor. Slapping the glass back onto the counter the young military officer scooted off his barstool, absently bumping into one of the young pretty brown haired barmaids who gave off a soft and cute ‘Eep’ before scowling at the boy. Raising his hands in a placating manner he backed out of the bar with a soft smile as the girl growled before storming off to deliver her wares to the patrons. Returning his hands to his pockets, he slouched as he stepped out into the midday sunlight. He must have really felt some kind of way because he had been in one of the few bars that opened before six, usually frequented by heavy drinkers who had lost their way so to speak. He guessed in a way he had lost his own way, not knowing what was the right thing to do, and who to go to. He struggled to piece together his jigsaw of a life and hoped to god the final picture held some sort of answer to the questions he had.

Hearing a shrill caw, the boy held out his arm as he turned and began to walk towards the gates, knowing he had gate duty today for some silly ass reason, his Kage was a man with a sense of humor apparently, according to the man this was to teach him the lesson of ‘Stop wasting all my got damn time and go do something useful rather than stand over me like a lost pigeon’ cranky old man... Having the messenger hawk land on his arm, the boy pulled the scroll off of it’s offered leg before stroking the soft plumage on it’s back as it cawed once again before leaping off his arm and returning to the skies. Peeling open the small scroll he read over the contents before shrugging, he was heading that way anyway. Tossing it over his shoulder, the small piece of paper ignited suddenly as it flew before turning to ashes suddenly due to the flash of fire that engulfed it. ‘Ashes to Ashes’.

Stepping up to the ‘Foreign Shinobi Center’ which was stupid in itself, it was a Hidden Village, a Hidden, Fucking Village. Not like those leaf fucks that couldn’t hide a mountain behind a tree, but an actual hidden village, this shit wasn’t even on a map let alone a sign post. Any foreign shinobi should instinctively know not to come here or risk being shot, with a kunai. And if they don’t expect that much, well death is always an option. Clenching his fist behind his back as he stepped through the door, he popped each of his knuckles at once, alerting the smaller boy of his presence. “Welcome... to Otogakure.” he spoke smoothly, disinterested eyes giving the young cerulean haired boy a once over before turning to the rest of the office building that was about as bleak and bland as a mental institution, or a scientific building. He didn’t like being here one bit. “Follow me...” he spoke again quickly, before turning right back out the door, he didn’t care if the boy followed him, honestly if he didn’t that’d be one less thing on his conscious, maybe he could slip away from the village during gate duty. Amatsu would understand wouldn’t he? Sometimes a man just had to make sense of himself, and to do that he had to do something new, and sometimes that new was getting the fuck out of his village.