collection. [t]

[BLKND]

o g o n . k u r a i

Many people suggest that Genin are incapable of doing much more than blabbering about what they wish that they could do. The small doses of phenomenal potential that each of them exerts is hardly enough to fuel an entire village. The brash and unready souls are nothing more than a filler, allowing the true warriors a filter to become top tier. With a low-level shinobi simply boast about their ability, there is nothing short of a miracle allowing them from being capable of anything truly noteworthy. In short, it is the strong that know when to use their abilities. It is the weak that abuse them.

The day was coming to an end. The snare that would surround the head of the Genin would slowly come undone as he would leave the confines of his apartment. His only family didn't appear to be home. His sisters were gone; away from home on whatever official business would call for their attention. Not really having many friends, he didn't know who to contact. He was leaving the village for the first time tomorrow, and the anxiety of it all was slowly eating away at him. The harsh Kaminari wind would hit his bare arms hard. Single strands of platinum hair would dance along the confines of his forehead. The light which would illuminate the marketed area in which he lived was enticing to say the least; his balcony always being a great place to observe them. The apartment building was small. Sitting on top of an established flower-shop, it would introduce his family to a number of visitors. Of course, the well scented shop would only serve as business for his family. The solitary Genin didn't share the same affiliation. No, unlike this flower shop, he knew no one. In turn, the people of Kumogakure no Sato were unaware of who he was either. Aside from being one of the few Yamanaka in the city, he had no namesake. Being named 'Nazo,' by his peers at the academy, he had prepared himself for war by simply ignoring the emotions that were directed towards him. All of the fights instigated at him, all of the admiration directed towards him was all simply ignored. He was an enigma to this village. It would sometime cross his mind that this place was not made for him. Perhaps he would force himself to leave in search of a place where he was known, or appreciated.

Perhaps not.

p o s t . o n e

[BLKND]

o g o n . k u r a i

A 'pop' of gunpowder would be set off into the air as one of the few villagers in the small, crowded street would exclaim. Kurai's eyes would slowly slide from the vision of the street, to the vision of the individual. A simple man, his clothing would slowly slide from his shoulders as his arms would contort into many different expressions. The straw sandals covering the soles of his feet would quickly flop around as his feet would join in on the uncanny, impromptu dance.

"My son's going to the Chuunin Exams!" The man would shout from his gut, bellowing for the entire street to hear.

People would whip their heads around. His voice drawing their attention immediately. Of course they were all curious to see what this seemingly crazed man was exclaiming about, but of course, attention was due. The exams were indeed not the most difficult thing to become eligible for. Instead, it was the need of recommendation from both Chuunin and Jounin advisers that would draw complication. With every step of the process, there was nothing but just that: complication. With a Chuunin teacher who was nothing impressive, or a Jounin adviser that he had stays in contact through snail mail, Kurai's acceptance into the examination was nothing short of a miracle. So as the older man would begin to dance in the street, his family slowly attempting to calm him down, Kurai would appreciate his enthusiasm. A father appreciating the contents of his son was something that he had been deprived of. Despite his ability, he was far from appreciated. However, as he would stare at this man, white kimono draping his thin contours, he would begin to realize just what made this examination so powerful. For every one father celebrating their child's success, was a young shinobi who would not hesitate to eliminate Kurai just to be closer to succeeding. For that same reason, every shinobi who would enter the exams would be countless amounts of abilities that would be able to do the deed. The breeze that would embrace his arms had connected every shinobi in the area. He had to defeat those shinobi. Whether it was physically, or intellectually, he had to win. That meant that this man celebrating, no doubt drunk with success would be one of many that would have to fail. As they would be sent home, exhausted and defeated, he would make sure that he was the one to do it. That meant that his abilities had to increase. He had to learn more; he had to grow stronger.

p o s t . t w o

[BLKND]

o g o n . k u r a i

The thick leather gloves that would rest on the metal railing of his apartment's balcony would slowly push the young man up. His two feet would straighten him out. The length of the boy's body made him all the more capable. Turning his gaze away from the enticing neon lights of the area, it would instead find itself staring into the sky. While the lights of the village would make it near impossible to see the stars in their full worth, it did allow him to see what he needed to see. The allowance of what appeared to be an alien life form would only go so far before curiosity would overcome the shinobi. He had sensed the presence of someone else for his entire time on the balcony. However, what didn't really make much sense was that this foreign life form had been doing nothing this entire time. Perhaps, like a statue, this life form did not require movement. Or perhaps they would assume that their movement would set off some sort of alert to their presence. Regardless, the blank brown eyes would continue to stare at Kurai through a small white mask, their silence as eerie as the number of statues that surround the village. Long, bushy dark hair would cover the peripherals of the mask, that would appear to be in the image of a snake. Kurai would immediately assume this shinobi to be an ANBU, however when getting a better look at the staring shinobi, it would become obvious that their attire would not match up with the attire that he had seen Kumogakure ANBU wear in the past.

"Ogon Kurai." The voice would relay, quickly revealing the gender of the ninja.

The womanly curves of the shinobi would remain invisible behind the lengthy white coat that would hide the majority of her body. In fact, the only visible portion of her skin would remain to be the slender brown neck that would peek from behind the mask. Kurai would refuse to answer, instead slowly lowering his knees, his hands simultaneously reaching behind his back as he would stroke the fabrics covering his ninja-to's handle. Her eyes would quickly narrow as she would continue to stare at him. Continuing to freeze, she would speak quickly, in the same tone of voice as before.

"I have the upper ground. I suggest you don't do anything brash." She would suggest, clearly unintimidated by the idea of engaging Kurai in combat.

p o s t . t h r e e

[BLKND]

o g o n . k u r a i

Kurai would sneer with a taste of disdain as he would nod to her suggestion. As his hands would slowly grip the contents of his blade, they would begin to grip tightly around the scabbard of the ninja-to. Her eyes would narrow violently as he made his next move. Within an instant, his body would surge with chakra, the explosion of chakra at his feet launching him into the air as he would launch himself into the air in a superior gust of movement. The kunoichi would thrust herself backward, the dust covering the top of the building quickly exploding in the air due to the rapid movement. Her hand would keep her balanced as she would skid, her opposite hand dragging along the ground as to assist in her stopping speed. Opposite of her stood the shinobi in she she had called by name. As his feet would land promptly on the tiled roof of the opposite roof, he would continue to stare at her, his face now mimicking hers with the intensity of his stare. His dark skin would contrast the whiteness of his ninja-to, which had yet to ever draw blood. Considering his simple dislike for blood, that could have been the reason. However, considering that he had never left the village, he would never have a use to kill. Perhaps this night would change that.

Her jacket would flap wildly through the air, along with her hair as she would continue to stare, motionless at the shinobi. His blade was upside down, his left hand open wide as it would support the end of the handle while the right hand would grasp it at the base of the handle. His legs bent, he was prepared to leave this area in an instant. He didn't want anyone to see this. It would be a matter of seconds before someone would report it, and the ANBU would no doubt step in... assuming that this woman wasn't ANBU herself. Either way, he wouldn't be proven weak by a stranger, especially the day before the biggest day of his life. The movement of the woman would initiate a surprise as she would stand to her feet, her empty hands quickly filling the air around her with hand seals. The speed of her hands were unreal. She wasn't a Genin, that he could be sure of. However, as he anticipated her jutsu, it would take far too long for anything to happen. That's when it hit him. He would notice her body instantly falling to the ground, the dust thrusting itself from underneath the weight of her body. Shintenshin.

The eyes of the shinobi would widen as he would realize the depth of her abilities. His foot would take a single step to the left, the precursor to a lavish leap to the left, however, as his foot would hit the ground he would realize the error of his mistake. Her technique was flawless. As his movements would make their way towards the evasive position, he could slowly feel the paralysis of her technique surrounding his slender frame. His knees would buckle, sending his head crashing to the floor of the roof, his body slowly leaning towards the street below.

p o s t . f o u r

[BLKND]

o g o n . k u r a i

Within an instant his body would feel the cold breeze of the mountains cease. Instead, the warmth of his on consciousness would surround him. An inconceivable flurry of colors would surround his frame. Whirlpools of blues. Showers of whites. Parades of yellows. The shades were blinding, but at the same time enticing. However, the longer that he would float in this state of paradigm, it would only take a short while for his enemy to reveal themselves. The massive brown eyes of the kunoichi would fade through the ocean of colors until her entire frame was on top of the young man.

"What do you want from me?" He would plead with her, his tone as serious as he could make it.

Her gloved hands would slowly reach out at him, her hair fluttering in the non-existent realm to simulate the wind in which they two were actually exposed to. As her gloved palm would reach over his head, he would slowly begin to understand what her mission had been this entire time. With no answer, she would probe his body in a way that felt unrealistic. A surge of warmth as her slender fingertips would pass right through his body. His head, his torso, his legs, his arms. There was no space was spared. However, as she would finish her examination of what he believed to be his soul, she would take a second to engage him. Her right arm would slide over his shoulder as her left hand would slowly cover the fitted snake mask that hid her face. Sliding the wooden mask from her face, her massive brown eyes would reveal the lavish beauty of her face. Two lush lips would begin to rotate into a twister of words, keeping his eager eyes fully captivated.

"The world is a fickle place Kurai. Power captivates and controls. Do not allow yourself to become caught up in the lures of power. You have a great gift bestowed upon you," She would say as her hands would slowly lift up his own, the warmth of her touch spared from his massive black gloves. "Behind these gloves, you hold the root to power. Don't forget that." She would finish, her face lighting up with a smile that would challenge Venus.

Within a flash, her image would vanish from his peripheral. The sun would begin to invade his peeled eyes, his body feeling flushed and rested as he would slowly awaken from the roof in which he had last felt the cool breeze of the mountains. Today was the day. Today he would make his first step to becoming a Chuunin.

exit.

p o s t . f i v e

[DAVID BOWE]

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