Through the Looking Glass [Q]

[Trigga]

A pain that the Uchiha wouldn’t even wish upon his most abhorrent enemy, the sheer sting that encompassed the area of his rib cage reeked of agony. A wise one once acknowledged that all forms of pain were merely psychological recognition of failure or weakness. The brain provided the needed indication and neural messages that sprinted through the body towards the targeted area at near unfathomed speeds. Messengers, more diminutive then a microbe racing towards the area of infliction, only to hint the body of the ultimate blatancy. Almost too mortified to believe it himself, the Uchiha was momentarily immobile.

The grass felt gawkily comfortable, or simply this was the impression of comatose settling as the scarlet-haired Shinobi’s face rested gently on the emerald pasture. His body now leveled, taking on a more calm position then previously expressed as his arms rested to his side. Breathing slowing down to a more convenient tone as shock completely flew over his senses and he now seemed more relaxed with the conditioning he was currently in. Aware that he hadn’t died, or simply giving into the ease-felt notion of being captured, either would be disregarded as Ryūsuke simply wanted an end to this horrifying means.

Guess I’ll find out who wants me dead—The Uchiha’s mind was obviously centralized on one concept, evident by the singular thought that outwardly reigned dominant in his consciousness. It was nigh unfeasible to conceive a thought of salvation when his uncle was nowhere to be found and his oppressor loomed overhead, and seemingly in control of the entire tribulation. If suspicion was true, and he wouldn’t kill him on spot, the next commonsensical step would be venturing to the man who hired the three individuals to rid the world of another Uchiha. Funny how he spent all this time and energy attempted to prolong his life, only for it to be controlled by an individual who on normal terms, wouldn’t have lasted.

Fading between reality in the realm of unconsciousness, the desertion of the mist almost went entirely disregarded, as well as the disappearance of the Hyūga as the Uchiha’s head shifted to his side. Eyes forcing themselves open, as an evident struggle to review the world around him was apparent, Ryūsuke looked on the visage of his uncle dismantling the opposition in a single strike. From his position, aiding in the assault was completely impracticable. Nonetheless, with enough will pumped through his mentality, and the strength of body to carrying himself to a gradual upright position, Ryūsuke stood inadequately.

[Messatsu!]

A peaceful, spiraling zephyr emanated out of the felled Hyuuga's back, sending his entire shirt asunder in minuscule pieces as the floated aimlessly like a pelt of snow. His skin and monotonous eyes retroverted as he slipped into the world of dreams, slumped over on Genryu's body as all motor function seemed absent from his body. The Hyuuga, even unconscious was too close for comfort, a quick, powerful shove of Genryu's forearm sent the man falling backwards as he haplessly plummeted into the terra firma. His body was utterly limp, completely deprived of strength and resilience with the elevation of his stomach being the only indication of life, however, as Genryu stood over him, reveling in his effortlessly victory, this innate, consuming urge to plunder the life from his very vessel overcame him.

Luckily -for the Hyuuga- Genryu was in no right to carry out such an act, he had done so with the first. The others were Ryu's tallies to mark up. Tears of blood spilled from his eye as its masterful design evanesced, momentarily erasing its existence as his gaze cast itself over towards the
inadequately standing Ryusuke. An assuaging smile came across his face as he saw that ready was alive and still breathing, as well as able to stand.

"Heh, you looked banged up, the hell happened you?!"

Playfully he spoke as casual footfalls carried him to Ryu's position with a reflexive hand that uplifted to his eye, patting away the trickles of blood with his sleeve as he stopped adjacent to Ryu. Silently Genryu Looked upon him with great assurance, realizing Ryu's strength and the dormant potential that laid within him. No matter how much Ryu believed otherwise, his body swelled with power, yet, only tamed and channeled through great danger and distress, drawing it out only when truly needed. The peaceful airs around Genryu swapped presence with that of a stoic mixture as he spoke once more with a cold, merciless tongue.

"Those two are yours, do what you will with them, they aren't mine to take care of."

[Trigga]

An existence forged solely on the principle of survival was only as fortified as the undercurrent which gave substance to face value. The message that was evident to the Uchiha and the sole interpretation for his strength was simple—a single word that not only described the purpose of a Shinobi, but as well the rationale behind the conception of obtaining strength; Protection. A Kage was chosen with the intentions of providing the best leader for a Village; sustaining not only the financial aspects, but the moral and civil prospects as well. A difficult task it was, and only the most enthusiastic would accomplish such a feat.

Though it pained him much to move, the Uchiha stood proud. His left side for the better part shattered by the overpowering force of the Hyūga, this hindered his movement speed, not his willingness to move. Peering forward, his eyes once again a clear violet signifying the cancelation of his Sharingan and with a single step he motioned forward. A soft growl of sorts escaped through the scarlet-hair’s lips as a sharp pain tingled through his side; movement would be a complex task but not utterly impossible. His life was no longer threatened, and as Genryū moved forward, his eye seemingly spewing a controllable flood of crimson red, he added dialect to an otherwise silent atmosphere

“It’s nothing too—argh—Serious.” Even the action of talking seemed excruciating. Nonetheless, beneath the smudges of dirt that coated his face, and the scrapes and bruises that danced over his skin, a radiant smile blossomed as Ryūsuke found inspiration. Right arm crossing over his chest and eventually holding his side, the Uchiha lowered, grabbing his Kunai from the paddock below with his left hand and stood upright once more, though gradually as his uncle held a more somber, murderous air when transitioning into his next statement. Eyes holding an emotionless gaze for the moment, the Uchiha nodded and soon proceeded over to the human spider.

Unconscious and unresponsive, this would be an easy task. Crouching down, namely near his leg region, the Uchiha, with one swift—precise slash gashed the softest point on the legs; the Achilles' tendon. Severing the capability to walk from the man’s body and eventually doing the same to his arms, Ryūsuke took another moment to inflict identical damage to the Hyūga. After a moment or two, it would become evident to Genryū that the victims weren’t dead; nonetheless, their days as assassins or even Shinobi would certainly end. Even with Medical attention, they wouldn’t be the same. Standing vertical, head propped down as strands of vibrant red fell over his eyes, masking the emotions in his oculars, He would speak; blood dripping from the tip of his down facing Kunai.

“I didn’t give them life. I have no right to take it.” He uttered in a monotone, nonetheless, loud enough for his Uncle to hear him.

[Messatsu!]

Though it had not physically shown itself, a wave of relief coursed through every inch of Genryu's very being as Ryu showed signs of full motor functions from muscle control to maintain all innate senses. However, Genryu himself had been far from 'in good condition', he had borrowed a fair amount of chakra and stamina from his wellsprings of power, putting a small dent in his reservoirs. It was not anything worth being alarmed about, he still had a sense of physical and spiritual freshness, able to continue on fighting if the situation called for it.

Nothing too serious eh? heh, that pride sure knows how show itself

It was amazing how Genryu could transition from mood to mood, demeanor to demeanor all at the snap of a finger, it was simply a mental discipline, not wanting to dwelling upon certain things for an overly long time. Never the less his teal gaze glanced over Ryu's back as he stepped forth with a faltered gait. He watched Ryu with hidden interest as he sunk low to the earth with a quick crouch, palming himself with cold steel. He seemed to have been reaching for something to sever, yet, at the angle in which he currently stood, Genryu could not pinpoint what.

"The hell is he doing, doesn't take that long to slit someones throat, jeez."

A sequence of sidewards steps carried him in a small arc before stopping at an angle, one if which granted him a better view of Ryu's true intentions. Severing tendons?! Genryu's eyes widened as he watched Ryu's display of mercy even after they had attempted to deprive him of life. Despite how much Genryu disagreed with his actions, he saw it as a trait to his personality which complimented and strengthened his faith in Ryu becoming Hokage. The Hokage was a leader, one who cherishes his home and all that resides within, accepted both the good and the bad, willing to forgive. And it was here, at this very moment, that it presented itself...

Ryusuke's ability to forgive.....but with consequences?!

Nevertheless, he held no desire to take their lives as they so contentedly did with him, truly a trait only a leader could have obtained through his lifetime. A soft 'tch' pressed itself from Genryu's lips, disgusted that this scum was given the opportunity to live, Genryu was different. When in the presence of acts such as these, forgiveness never existed, only the cold hands of deaths embrace, but that was what merely made him less of a candidate for Hokage than his nephew, Ryusuke.

"Heh, you always did have a big heart. This is over, its time head home. I wonder how much as change, guess theres only one way to find out.

Trudging through the incessant bodies of mist within Mizu no kuni, Genryu was well on his way back home, brimming with curiosity to see old face, new faces, and so much more, though it might not have shown, he was shaking with excitement down to his very core.

[/exit]

[Trigga]

Forgiveness was something of a rarity within the Shinobi world. An ethical trait instilled upon most during their youth and easily disregarded once the responsibilities of a Shinobi became apparent. Life and death were conjectural topics and while hosting numerous explanations, beliefs and ideals, there was only one universal notion. Everyone who lived would ultimately die. A one-way cycle that would eventually shepherd the souls who exited the womb to the cold coffin of the earth in time. This frame could span days, months and even years—transcending decades only to be realized in the prime of one’s elderly recognition.

So now the question was, why did Ryūsuke give something as atypical and unmerited as his forgiveness to those who expected to leave today with his head? The Hyūga, Shikigami and even the Sasanagi were all tools of destruction and eventually met the fates they projected to inflict upon others. Almost ignorant to allow trained killers to live, even more so considering they saw his face and experienced his battle prowess, Ryūsuke couldn’t rob life. A man of many morals, one was the preservation of existence itself. More suited to protect one then end them, the Uchiha couldn’t take what he didn’t give.

The Will of Fire—the codex which guided all who hailed from the Hidden Leaf was a life lesson in itself. One’s Nindō was treasured and Ryūsuke’s ninja way was simple; to protect all he could, and yes this even applied to enemies. Not bred to be a mindless executioner, the scarlet-haired was an individual and one who cherished the opportunity to walk the world and experience all it had. Nonetheless, the fate he decided to implicate was far worse than death for a Shinobi. They would be bed-bound for some time, and once they finally gained the bodily movement they once had, the Uchiha would be long gone, and most likely more powerful.

“Yeah, lets head home.” Genryū may have not agreed with his decision, but obviously respected him. Holding his side and progressing behind his Uncle, there was only one thought that seemed omnipresent in the young man’s consciousness. “Hokage eh? “ A smile subsequent a soft laughter, Ryūsuke had quite the road ahead of him, and from the looks of it, such an endeavor included leading his community as its Hokage—the shadow that loomed contantly over the sky of his village. What a task and expectation to place on someone so young. Nonetheless, with Genryū there, he would accomplish it.

/Exit

[Estilo]

+ 178!! @ Ryu
+ 8!! @ Toru

+ 108!! @ Gene
+ 75!! @ Gene^{x1.5 multiplier for August posts}