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“It’s the type of feeling that you get when…” he’d briefly pause, not finishing his words. Midori had been lost in thought.

The pause in Midori's train of thought was all that Akuharu had required, his right hand's grip on the boys shoulder tightening to pull him forward a second before, as simultaneously his left hand rose, a charge of energy rising as it rushed forward, palm extended, to release a wave of chakra at point blank range directly into the Kusa native's face. By pulling and pushing at the same time, Akuharu ensured that the full brunt of the attack would successfully knock his 'opponent' a full five meters back, but as the attack would land, Akuharu's feet would near instantaneously disappear in a fluttering of steps. The shimmering motion would carry him around and behind Midori, coming to rest directly in the young man's path mid-air, and catching him by the back of his head with his now outstretched left arm as Midori's body still flew, propelled by pure concussive force, avoiding the sharper spines jutting out from the pitcher-plant like contraption woven to his body.

Midori would have little time to catch his bearings, of course, as he'd no doubt be disoriented by the direct blow to his head, and Akuharu's left arm drove the boy downwards, forcefully, into the very ground he seemed birthed from. He would not release that grip until his own right arm had gathered and released yet another burst of chakra, this time, catching the back of the boy's head with a crushing impact he would now be virtually unable to avoid. With a successful second attack, Akuharu would withdraw Nameless from it's sheathe, his heavy boot stomping into the boy's oddly structured covering to keep him in place, the blade coming down in a simple stabbing motion that would pierce through [approximately] the back of the boy's heart.

The entire time, the smile would not leave Akuharu's face, though in reality, he was a bit saddened that so many questions had been asked and answered without the possibility of a truly peaceful encounter. Though the young man's survival was unlikely, a flush of chakra would nevertheless flow through the Kirigakure shinobi's body, readying himself for the rigors of a 'battle' he'd attempted to avoid.

"It’s fine. I wasn’t able to see much anyways. Besides, you seem more interesting."

The young man answered casually, and Akuharu smiled again at the compliment. He brushed the hair from his face as a small wind began to pick up, and listened patiently as his new acquaintance spoke again.

"Akuharu, you say? I’m Midori. I’m not here to guard this place. I’m actually not even from this country. I traveled from a land far away. The Land of Grass is my home."

Midori. Well met. Kusa No Kuni? I have never been, but I have heard of its beauty before, particularly the large number of plant species unique to that region and climate. I have often imagined exploring such places, studying them, figuring out how they differ from other places I have traveled in my time. I have been in Mizu No Kuni for nearly a year, and it seems that this land has seldom more to offer than the endless procession of mist.

Akuharu spoke like a poet, as if older than he actually was, a halting pattern of gently overlapping tones that signified one who'd learned language only from the pages of ancient books and was thus unaccustomed to the modern flow of language.

There is a root that grows there, near the few bodies of water substantial enough to be classified as lakes, Ashtamangala Naraka. Like a rose, but marked with ribbons of violet and bright white. I believe it is used to cure madness.

He gazed into the sky, struggling to remember the fading heliotype the Six Paths of The Moon had shown him as a boy, his tiny fingers prodding the page as if the plant could spring forth and be touched. His gaze fell back upon Midori and careful not to be rude, he looked over the large structure that seemed to enclose the young man's dual-colored body, nodding as if in approval.

I am not completely certain where I am from, though I spent a great deal of time at the sea.

Perhaps that's why I've come here. Perhaps I am only truly at home when surrounded by water, in whatever form it may take.

It was a sensation much like drowning. He sat in a dense forest of overlapping wooden tusks, lit by the moon, jutting from the ground at bizarre angles covered in fog, and sprouting monochromatic blue flowers dripping dull pollen spores like viscera. His legs were crossed, both Akurojin-no-hi and Nameless, the blessed nodachi of the Death Coils, were strapped to his back with thin chain, and his eyes were closed against the surrounding dampness.

Beneath the lids, the red flare of his Sharingan was not present, and the dull black pupils shifted slightly, as if in nightmare, his thoughts sinking deeper and deeper into the recesses of his own memory. If he leaned forward just a few feet, close to the land's edge as he was, he would surely fall into the great swamp before him and be flushed by a sluice of dirty water into the greater expanse of the Salt Brine Loch. For the moment, he was blissfully unaware of the presence of others, and his forehead was absent the simple metal protector that declared allegiance to Kirigakure No Sato. Alone. Undisturbed. Waiting calmly and breathing deep and concerned primarily with how the remainder of his day might unfold.

There is no emotion, there is peace. His palms rose, closing to form the tiger handseal slowly and deliberately, nostrils flaring in the dark. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. His hands broke the seal, fingers folded, allowing the naturally built tension to fall away. There is no passion, there is serenity. A swelling of chakra built within him, a heartbeat, a steady pulse of flaring spiritual and physical energy that fluctuated in a clockwise rotation away from his core. There is no chaos, there is harmony. The temperature around him increased subtly, as the tiniest particles of katon chakra seemed birthed from his skin and ignited into finality around him.

As the incinerated flesh cooked itself into oblivion, a light sheen of sweat could be seen on the Kirigakure shinobi's forehead, and his hand moved swiftly to wipe it away. His chakra had not yet replenished itself, and as he waited, approached by the queen of spiders, Akurojin-no-hi shifted eagerly in his palm. The creature reared back, twenty meters away, and let out an inhuman screech Akuharu was surprised could even be produced by its constantly gnashing maw. As it made its way towards him, he pushed out, a flooding of chakra allowing his steps to traverse the distance between them in that same instance, the head of his Naginata biting out with all the ferocity of the creature it sought to destroy. Caught off guard, the beast seemed to crumple, the blade removing itself off to the right side and having entered just beneath the dark clump of sinister eyes that directed the things vision. His coal black eyes spotted the same contraption marring its otherwise bestial savagery, and he reached out his left hand to tap it and do away with the beast, when its fluttering of motion caught him by surprise.

It was like a dead thing, yet it did not seem disturbed by the wound it had suffered at his blade. It's legs scissored out, grasping him by the ankle and lifting him from the ground, as it shoved its face outwards and attempted to gnaw through the light-weight mesh covering the genin's frame. He twisted his body, hard, loosing its grip and landing on a single knee as his blade flashed upwards, though too slow. The spider merely moved away from it, allowing a hardened ball of webbing to crust over its clicking mandibles and be shot out, catching the spot where he crouched before he'd had the time to escape. Mid-jump, it stuck to his boot like glue and forced his body back down to the earth, as a flickering of all too valuable spiritual energy mixed with the physical and allowed his Sharingan to rotate into activity. The blood colored sphere showed him the insects angle of attack, as along its back, tiny droplets of liquid chitin solidified into horrifying realness, and rose on tiny senbon-thin legs, scattering into the wind.

He dropped the naginata blade first into the ground, attempting to use it as leverage as the spider readied another helping of web, its mouth like a hose that shot forth the off-white threads with incredible speed. Akuharu attempted to use the flash step yet again, but his feet could not gain traction and he instead only tore in vain, ducking at the last possible moment to avoid each new web the arachnid produced. In it's failure, some part of its mind not enslaved by the blinking red light strapped across it seemed furious; it hobbled towards him, steadily regaining its balance and bearing, before weighing him down bodily beneath its own form. He was forced to the dirt, breath escaping in a dust filled exhalation of irritation, his left hand pulling his weapon free of the arena floor. The spider smashed itself against him repeatedly, building a patchwork film of fine bruises across his skin, and preventing him from moving Akurojin-no-hi into the proper position to strike. It's gruesome mouth bore onto him, covering him in scratches and tears, as the tinier kin it produced swarmed the lower half of his body, hungry and stupid and vile.

He was disoriented. As the beast came down for what appeared to be its final physical assault, Akuharu raised his own head, the spiders constantly moving jaws catching him about the neck and removing his head as they snapped closed, then releasing him as time seemed to reverse and the burned in combat imprint undid itself. Akuharu curled his body up as the mouth of the beast truly came down, and he used his new positioning to sit up, swiftly, the newly tied headband he now wore slamming into the center of the arachnid queen, and sending a shockwave of heat and death through the tiny button that had given it its second wind. It fell off of him, confused, before the red light spread and its residual energies ignited and Akuharu lay, still covered in its web, eyeing his next opponent and wondering just how he would free himself.

Can't keep this up...forever...