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-- mission 001. what's your name?

Ushinawa was not a tall person, by any stretch of the imagination. It might have been an exaggeration to say that he carried a presence with him as well. However, despite his physical shortcomings, there was something about him that had always worked in his advantage during times of combat. Perhaps it was his demeanor. As he stood before this lot of three who had more than a few pounds on him, in addition to a number of centimeters of height hovering over him, he stood unafraid. Granted, the fact that they had mistaken him for a woman might have played a part in that. There was a silence surrounding the situation. As a number of girls began to pour out of the schoolyard, it would catch the attention of the men to whom Matsumoto had approached.

"This chick's weird man." One would announce from the back.

"What the hell do you want?" The leader would prod once more, stuffing his wrists against his sides with a pout.

Perhaps the young man's patience grew too thing, or perhaps he simply felt like starting some sort of conflict. However, before the three of them could really understand what had happened, they would find themselves with their backs against the ground. Writhing in pain during varying intervals, the blood caused from the leader's damaged nose would begin to drip down his shirt as he pulled himself up against the fence. A confused and struggling expression crossed his face, and as his muscles spasmed and jerked in his attempt to use them, he would notice that the assault had yet to cease. Placing his foot directly onto the man's chest, he would force him back to the ground- leaning over in order to get a decent gaze between the two. As their eyes would meet, and the impeccably calm face of the shinobi would have solidified its place in the man's memory, the first words spoken would slip from his mouth.

"If I ever see you here again, expect the same result," He cooned with the voice to match the rest of his body. Shoving his foot once more into the man's chest, Ushinawa would raise his head and give a complete turn as he would ensure the other two, having been incapacitated by still yet unseen means, would begin to gather themselves to a respectable point. "The same goes for you two."

It was a rather rudimentary mission. Roughing up someone who had the potential to rough up others. It was a mission he had been on a number of times before committing to a place where he would actually be paid for it. It was funny, the only real difference between this and his time as a solider was their at least this time someone was paying him for violence. Was it any better? Probably not, but it was at least more acceptable. Instead of a constant call to kill, he would have to work his way up through the occasional chore. Perhaps this was what the council wanted for his rehabilitation. Perhaps if he got a chance to meet with people, and see them for what they were, he would be able to surpass seeing them as mere 'targets.' This of course, would take time.

As he began to depart the scene, two of them girls who had witnessed the bout approached him, their fingers pressed firmly against the books curled against their chests. They were no strangers, the lot having likely seen each other in this exact area a number of times. Whether it was his just being older, or being more advanced in combat, he did not spend much time with them in class, however. Either way, their approach came as a bit of a surprise. Conversation soon led to the discovery of their names, grades, and ambitions upon graduation. Topics discussing hair and clothing were also broached, and while he didn't appear to offer much insight, he was very much interested in listening. This concept of 'friends' would be interesting, so perhaps he would give it a try. Enter Ushinawa's first 'friends:' Yoko and Aoi.

-- mission complete.  

SPOILER: Click to show

{mission 001.}What's Your Name?
Rank: D
Description: Some of us just don't have social skills. There's a group of genin outside of the academy that keep hitting on students on their way home. Make sure the students get home safe, some of these kids can be a little 'touchy.'
Restrictions: None.
Rewards: 25 EXP and 500 Ryo..

A cursory glance to his right would reveal the sudden appearance of two masked men. While this would have normally caused reason for alarm, within the world of 'ninja,' it wasn't too uncommon. Years in battle had often revealed that men who cover their faces were often also covering other things. Of course, despite this understanding, it would seem to have fallen on the wayside this night. With his palms curved against the corner of the wall, his feet hanging over the side, he would catch their glimpse with complete stability. With a slight flutter of his eyelids at the sudden altering of his attention, he might have caused a bit of confusion amongst the duo. It was clear to most that Ushinawa was a man, but to strangers such as these, it would be far less clear. His voice upon answering, filled with soft speech patterns and delicacy of the tongue, didn't appear to lend any clarification.

'ANBU?'

"There's no cause for alarm. I'm simply enjoying the view."

While the explanation was presented in a very matter-of-fact tone, it would be clear that he had wished he hadn't been bothered in the first place. Leaning forward, the boy's strangely lanky legs would bend forward as he placed a step against the top of the wall. As he stood, the long dark hair, which draped across his shoulders as though a part of the night above them, would flutter outward towards the exterior of the walls. Curving his body slightly to account for the wind, he would give notice to both the position of the man accosting him, and the man who seemed to be approaching him in support. With their positions accounted for, he would also notice the considerable width of the walls in which they stood. Five meters from the interior to the exterior, it would give him more than enough space to flee should the two attempt to wrongfully detain him.

Raising his right hand, the cape which covered the entirety of his torso would lift. Revealing a sliver of metal at his waist, the image of an hourglass etched onto a metal plate could be seen hanging from his belt. While his opposite hand would remain hidden behind the cloak, his right hand would reach into his pocket to remove the ninja identification book he had received upon passing the genin exam. It was a small green book that was carried by most children of his rank. Given his status as a refugee, it was even more likely for him to carry it in circumstances such as these.

Removing it from his pocket, he would take a step forward before tossing the book in a spinning manner towards the ANBU's chest.

"That should be all of the proof that you need."

It's best not to be reminded of such trivial things. Memories are sometimes what hold us back. They prevent us from realizing that before us lies an ocean of new, and more exciting memories. Forget about old things. They bring no benefit. There are things that continue to captivate, however. There are things that remain in the present, the here, the now, that fulfill every desire that one would hope to have realized. The darkness of the past, and the faulty footing that is shed upon it is nothing compared to the sleek ambience of the present. This is where our story begins. Now.

It was a weekday. A day that one or two of us might be able to remember as some sort of eventful evening. The rest of us will continue to pass over it in the history books. There are things that happened that day that set up the rest of the week. Projects were finished, tests were completed, lunch was had, and so on and so forth. This weekday, however, was a bit more spectacular for one person in particular. 

Long, sleek, dark hair seemed to be carried along within the midsts of the summertime gale that swept over the town. From atop the village walls, the child could see the rest of the town below him. The dim lights which seemed to bleed onto the streets from each respective home showed signs of life. Perhaps it was a bit precocious to assume that each would represent a 'soul' inhabiting the room. The same could be said for the stars, which hung above the village almost as if an ocean reflecting it. This often seemed to be his hiding place. A locale where the souls within the stars, and the souls within the city would convene to show themselves off. Who held more light, who held more life? It was a constant battle that the genin seemed to have appreciated.

Matsumoto Ushinawa had been a resident of the village for nearly three months now. Having gone through the motions of graduating the academy was nothing more than a casual reminder of things he had already learned during his time in the desert. It was a bit symbolic. To his back, there was a vast darkness which composed the countryside of Kaze no Kuni. It was his previous home. To his front, was the illumination of life, and the 'souls' of each of his comrades, new and old. There was still much for him to learn about this village... but some things would seem to be a constant.