morality; cause and effect. [open]

[—yuujin.]

Diligent and hardworking people cease the greatest prize in life. He was no different, but exceptionally well at working hard at the jobs most refused to do. In a world so divided, lost by the power of shinobi, the trust level had dramatically depreciated over the past years. Every shinobi's job should be to gain the trust of their villagers back, but such a feat is difficult without perseverance. Still but a Genin, due to a lack of inspiration and spirit, Yuujin would find himself at a point in his life where all that 'is', is no longer relevant. The point where choice is based upon moral decisions, living in a world where everything goes. The outcome was unknown to him[it was unknown to everyone], however, he would not allow himself to be the one with the shit end of the stick. His neighbors and fellow shinobi would recognize him for his willing attitude, and hard working drive.

"You work so well. Please stay for supper. I've prepared a sure to be filling meal for you, if you'd life." - elderly woman

The friendly gesture would be noted, and the response would be a slight smirk followed by a nod of the head. The dirt would crumble below his feet as he raked leaves from his neighbor's yard; an older couple, who could use the assistance. The leaves would begin to blow in the breeze. The slightest echo of a caw in the distance would cause his left earlobe to twitch. His eyes would follow the sound, raven strands of hair flowing in the breeze as calm as the seas. Panning off into the distance, clouded by a thick mist, a facade could be visibly seen. Whether it be his imagination or not, he would not take it lightly. Gripping the rake tightly, spreading both legs shoulders width apart, he would stare off into the distance.

[feel free to open as the shaded figure, or any other way you see fit]

[—yuujin.]

The figure would remain for another few moments before fading into the mist. Looking off towards the house sitting in silence, he would sigh lightly under his breath. It seemed that even during times such as these, battle was a hard thing to come by; a strange thing to miss. After raking the remaining leaves into the massive pile created at the corner of the yard, he would place the rake against the nearest tree. Rushing each of the five digits upon his left hand through his silk like hair, he would stare into the sky.

"...this blows." - yuujin

His boredom was evident, but with no solution. Walking off towards the direction of the house, he would slowly pace himself towards the doorstep

-strong breeze-

Slowing to a stop, he'd slighty turn his head, his eyes rolled to the corner of his head. His hard work now blew in the wind. Too tired and irritable to complain, he continued toward the house, entering the front door. The warmth overwhelmed him, but it was comforting. An old man lay rapped in a blanket; feet open to a open fireplace. The smell of warm bread and fish would take over his senses, triggering the slightest growl in his stomach. The woman would smile, chuckling to herself.

"Someone must be hungry." - elderly woman

"The leaves I raked kinda blew off in the wind...Sorry." - yuujin

"Hmph, figures. Well, no crying over spilled milk...Eat something, boy. You're no good to me dead." - elderly man

Something about the old man made Yuujin curious, ever since the day he ran into him in town. He was straight forward, though sometimes couldn't hold back from responding in a rather off[sometimes rude] manor. In some sense, Yuujin was void of emotions, so his responses were limited to simply sighs of annoyance. He would nod in response to the old mans words, turning to the small elderly woman standing nearly two feet below his own height. Her bony fingers would grasp his forearm, pulling him towards the kitchen, and situating the table before him. He would sit, grasping the nearest pair of chop sticks to stare down into his plate. In the blink of an eye, the food would vanish, followed by the sound of Yuujin sucking his fingers clean. The woman would smile.

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[Mamushi]

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Hiromasa watched the man for several long silent moments as he in turn watched an afternoon's worth of work blow away in the breeze. The kid was the type to laugh at the misfortune of others, but he kept his silence now, not even opting to breathe until the man had entered the home. He was not often the stealthy type, but he prided himself on his versatility.

Very interesting...

He hadn't known that such reconstruction had already begun - here, the scorched earth and razed grounds near the Western Mountains seemed light years away. How long where we in those catacombs? He wasn't sure who the man was who had been raking the grass, but his entire persona screamed 'shinobi!'. There was no hiding such a thing, especially from Hiromasa. The question was, was he hostile? Hiromasa doubted it - hostile shinobi weren't the type to rake yards for civilians.

Might was well introduce myself.. there aren't many of us left, after all.

He left his hidden perch in the forest and ghosted across the ground to the house, his movements as rapid as they were silent. He raked his knuckles against the door three times, and waited, appearing to take great care in adjusting the hitai-ate around his bicep. His blonde hair hung messily, bangs falling in his eyes.

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[—yuujin.]

His ear would twitch to the sound of a knock upon the door. The old woman would look towards the sound before glancing over to her husband. It were apparent they did not expect any other guests to arrive. Yuujin did not respond in a curious manor, till the lightest ruby glimmer would flicker from his eye; his awareness ominous. A crow would begin to fly directly above the house, almost like a vulture waiting for his prey to keel over and die. A head topped with Golden hair and a rather sly demeanor would stand waiting at the door.

Who was this individual? The old woman would make her way towards the door, only to be halted by Yuujin's hand upon her shoulder. She would stop as he proceeded towards the door. The old man only stared into the fire, as though he feared no intruder; though his elderly wife appeared cautious. Lightly grasping the hilt of his ninjato, he would slowly grip the door knob, twisting and pulling the door open. Before him stood another figure about his height. Almost at eye level, he would glare into the guests eyes; a silent pause.

"...Yes?" - yuujin

What more could he say? This wasn't his house. Oh, but there was a specific reason for him approaching the door as if it were his house. Only through a vision under a higher state of mind, created through chakra airborn, would mentally connect he and his companions at equal brainwaves. And as he presumed, a weapon in plain site. This one was not to be mis-judged. Though he appeared young, his stature were that of an older man. It demanded respect, amplifying the already evident chuunin vest. How would he respond?

[Mamushi]

[/i], was left unsaid.

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[—yuujin.]

He didn't speak, but he listened. Looking over his shoulder towards the elderly couple, he would step forward closing the door behind him. The old door would then make a howling screech before closing shut. This was a sly one, though Yuujin couldn't quite put his finger on it. Outward appearances have been known to be deceiving to the average eye, but to the eye of a shinobi, an easy feat; most cases. However, his own demeanor would not change because his alertness had not. He was always prepared, and even the shinobi's calming words were not enough to put him at ease. He wasn't rude however, so he would respond.

"Kuro...Yuujin." - yuujin

Though he never broke eye contact with the shinobi, his every movement was under thorough observation. Yuujin's hand had not yet left his hilt, though he had loosened his gript. He felt it irrelevant to ask the same question, knowing beyond a doubt they were both shinobi. The title "shinobi" wasn't a mere name one could claim, despite the downfall of the great shinobi nations; he'd have to prove himself with that blade if it came down to it. They stood there, Hiromasa's blonde hair contrast to Yuujin's raven colored hair; yin & yang. Whether it be through intuition or just a gut feeling, he couldn't help but to ask:

"You've been watching me?" - yuujin

[Mamushi]

[/b]." He said, and stared pointedly at Yuujin's hand wrapped loosely around his ninjato. "Do you feel threatened?" And why would you have a reason to... His pleasant facade dulled as his brow lowered and his smile evened out. Neutral, objective, neither angry nor excited - serious, in the way of cataclysmic catastrophe's.

"I've yet to become threatening, and trust me, you don't want me to. Take your hand off that weapon."

His arms hung loose at his sides, his legs poised ever-so-slightly to spring - he hadn't even realized he'd moved.
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[—yuujin.]

He ignored the order. Though this weren't his house, he felt the right to bare his armed weapon was no more unwarranted than the guest at the door. The tone the stranger held changed dramatically within a matter of moments. It were as if a door were slowing being open to the true intentions kept deep within this individual, but he kept himself calm despite his slight impatience[whether that be because Yuujin's alignment were still in question or not didn't matter]

"Well that makes two of us. Though its safer to assume I'm from this village than it is for the stranger at my doorstep, no? If you're not here to start trouble, you shouldn't feel threatened by me holding it." - yuujin

Of course he were bending the truth by playing the "this is my property" card for a house that wasn't even his to begin with, but the Chuunin wouldn't know the difference. How could he argue against that? However, his response would make the final decision on which direction this conversation would turn. Yuujin would lean against the frame of the doorway, his eyes never leaving the shinobi's. He personally had all the time in the world to shoot the shit.

"...you say your name is Hiromasa?" - yuujin

[Mamushi]

[/ul]

[—yuujin.]

He only blinked at the remark, but the following question seemed to soften the tension. It were a question he had been asked before in the past...but he had no true answer for it now. What could he say? All that was real seemed to fade into oblivion along with his dreams. There was once a thrill for this lifestyle, but now it seemed to be nothing more than a useless title to him.

"I became a shinobi to challenge myself, and to be my best. But that doesn't really matter much now..." - yuujin

One could assume he had given up on life, but that weren't the case. He just hadn't found the right direction to go in. Who was this Hiromasa to question him on his past choices? It really didn't matter though, since it gave him something interesting to talk about. He could tell that they were both on edge, each keeping their weapon close as if the other would suddenly attack. He would give this an opportunity chance by removing his hand from the ninjato before crossing both arms. He then smirked.

"So I assume you became one so you could harass the rest of us...you still find a thrill in this lifestyle?" - yuujin

His sarcasm usually went over other people's head, but he didn't assume the same for this one. He seemed very alert and aware of his surroundings, but for what reason, Yuujin could not decide yet. It were a natural shinobi instinct to be alert and aware, but Yuujin didn't worry too much about it at this point. Realistically, Yuujin only felt a loyalty to the people, and not so much for the shinobi who created the current hell the people live in to this day. He didn't his title worth being honored, or even being mentioned for that matter.

[Mamushi]

[You keep mentioning weapons, plural... I don't have a weapon, as least not one showing. Only you do.]

[/i] orefer it. "You would spend the rest of your years tending the yard for these civilians? Weeding their garden and settling in for a nice cup of milk and cookies with granny?" He couldn't quite keep his disdain out of his voice, not that he tried. "Our nation's have bled dry, our comrades are dead, and the world itself is on the cusp of annihilation, and you would give up all that you were, all that you could be.. for this?" He swept his eyes again over the house, as if measuring it. "You're completely mental."

He turned and walked back down the pathway, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I'll be Kage one day," he called back over his shoulder. "And when I am, there'll be no place in my village for tentative shinobi. Ciao."

[ Exit ]

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[—yuujin.]

[well if I wasn't drunk everytime you post...and I didn't know hitai-ate meant "headband", I woulda assumed otherwise lol]

"Kage?....hahahaha!" - yuujin

Was he serious? Such a foolish kid to believe that he could change the world through his own will. Kage was a position only given to the most elite, and though he was aware of the Chuunin vest, he doubted Hiromasa's chances of being Mizukage. His presence was bold, and his stature past his own time, but he wasn't Mizukage material; in Yuujin's eyes. Not that he himself were worthy of the position, but for someone to openly accept the position without any approval or acknowledgment? That was unheard of.

"Well maybe someday you'll surprise me..." - yuujin

. He laughed, but could very well be wrong in his assumption. It wasn't like he were aiming for the position, so in his own opinion, such a feat were possible. He simply shrugged and watched as the stranger walked off before heading back into the house to tend to the elder's he were assisting. He wouldn't forget this "Hiromasa", though he had proved nothing but his ability to gas a person up for something intense. He tapped the hilt of his blade, and turned to open the door behind.

[DAVID BOWE]

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