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-A Moment Of Understanding

Shiro set foot on the well-packed dirt on the outskirts of the village. There was only one road in the village, linking almost half of the village's house into a single lane. Where he stood, the road simply disappeared into the high grass of the countryside. The road continued ahead of him for almost a hundred meters, where it rose into a simple earthern bump at the edge of the forest. Shiro narrowed his eyes at it. Likely, it was what he sought. He took a step forward, his pulse quickening slightly.

“You, hey! Stop!”

Shiro ignored the old man. Wrinkled and bald, his gray beard was starting to fall out as well. He moved with a hobble, leaning heavily on a cane. He stood in the middle of the road, as though to bar the path to the grave. The young shinobi narrowed eyes at the old man, who responded with a glare just as fierce. Shiro sighed, shifting his weight. He didn't want to hurt an old man, but he had come too far to be stopped by propriety and moral foolishness. He locked his gaze on to the old man.

“Don't stop me, old man,” He said, his voice low with warning. “I need what's buried in that grave. They killed our people.” The old man regarded him with thoughtful eyes. After a moment of silence, he stepped aside, his eyes solemn. Perhaps he knew he couldn't stop a shinobi much younger and more fit than himself. Or perhaps he, too, wanted revenge on those who had torn their nation apart. He didn't have to voice his reasons to Shiro. His cooperation was enough.

“Make sure they suffer.” The old man's voice was weak and raspy. His eyes, however, were as hard as diamonds. Shiro nodded once, and then continued down the path.

-A Moment Of Disagreement

Konoha.

Shiro's fingers tightened as he heard his comrade speak. Konohagakure no Sato, the Village Hidden in the Leaves. The thought of it made his pulse quicken. A sickening sensation settled into his stomach. The thought of going there made him simultaneously excited and disgusted. The shinobi of that place had killed more of his friends than anyone else. It had been them that had destroyed a great deal of his life. He wouldn't deal with them. Not if he could help it. He would much rather kill them.

Besides, leaving the country...

He turned slightly, looking over at the faint image of the rampaging beast. He closed his eyes with a sigh, opening them again after a moment of consideration. He couldn't leave the country. Not right now. Someone had to stay, to ensure that this event was documented. Whoever was the new jinchuuriki was down there, and it would be an excellent opportunity to do a bit of recon. If they could figure out which nation obtained the Yonbi, they could be prepared for that threat as soon as possible.

“You speak well,” Shiro said, frowning slightly. “And you speak the truth. But I'm afraid I can't join your in this errand. Someone needs to keep an eye on things here. The beast is nearly defeated. Gathering information is highly vital right now. This village needs more than military strength, right now. We need to rebuild our society, as well. I will try to gather those who remain here, in the nation, so that we can have a village at all. Godspeed with you, Funikumi-san.”

If both of their tasks were successful, then the village would be both strengthened and restored all at once. One could not happen without the other. He hoped his associate wouldn't be too disappointed.He hoped that his comrade's journey went well. He bowed deeply to the man before stepping away, heading into the wilds.

-Exit

-A Moment Of Investigation

Shiro flicked his eyes over the scion of the Funikumi clan. Uzu no Kuni... He had never heard of such a place before. Then again, there were nations in all directions, beyond the borders of the known world and far out at sea. It was foolish to think that he knew all of them. Wherever it was, however, it was most likely destroyed, like all the other minor nations, his own included. Even nearby Ame no Kuni had been ripped apart. If such a prominent country had been lost, what luck did some place so obscure to be unheard of have?

So much destruction with no gain.

“Hn.” The sound was noncommital, more of an acknowledgement of understanding than anything else. His mind was working too fast for him to waste brain power answering right away. Things were moving a bit too quickly for his tastes. His fellow shinobi was highly trusting of him, it seemed. Either that, or he had more nefarious purposes in mind for Shiro. As a trained ninja, he was more inclined to believe that his counterpart had an agenda of his own than to believe that he trusted so easily.

“There are certain possibilities,” Shiro admitted. There had been rumors, especially, of a warrior of darkness that travelled the battlefield, serving no one but himself. What he was looking for, or what he was actually capable of, no one knew. What was clear, however, was a simple fact: he had been unstoppable. That sounded appealing to Shiro. “Tell me, Funikumi-san... What do you know about those lost here, in Kusa no Kuni? There's something you're holding back.”

Perhaps he knows about the one they called the Grudge...

SPOILER: Click to show

There's only one day left, so I don't know. Perhaps we could use this thread to work on it a bit?

-A Moment Of Curiosity

“Perhaps.”

He was unconvinced, but his answer was politely restrained. His comrade thought a bit too highly of their village, perhaps. Shiro was as much a patriot as anyone else, maybe even more so than most people. Even so, he couldn't deny the truth; their nation had been crushed under the feet of those who called themselves the Great Nations. Sand and Leaf, in particular had used their nation as a battlefield for their war, and their power had ground this nation into the rubble. Still, it was heartening to hear such vinegar in his people.

War blinds us with passion.

“I see,” He said, his voice dry. A small smile alighted his face, betraying his amusement. “Well, Funikumi-san, my name is Fushoku Shiro.” He listened as the boy went on. It did pique Shiro's interest. The boy looked a bit young, but people of all ages had fought in the war. He had killed children a decade younger than him, and did it without hesitation or mercy. Age had nothing to do with anything, in the world of shinobi, and especially not in war. Conflict bred conflict, and not even the young were spared.

A method of ending conflict.

“I fought in the wars as well. Our country was a great battlefield for three of the other powers. Perhaps something was left behind? Even legends died on the battlefield, here.” What was he suggesting? That they go dig up corpses laid to rest in the fallow fields of death that the war left on the nation? Perhaps he was. He didn't particularly mind the idea. One of the best ways ninja learn of the secrets of other nations was through examining the corpses of those bodies that escaped the notice of hunter nin.

“We can turn what they left behind against them, if it still exists.”

-A Moment Of Bemusement

Funikumi.

The name stood out in the stream of words to him almost immediately. He had never met one, of course, but he had heard the stories of the Funikumi clan throughout his travels with his squadron. They hadn't taken kindly to the attitude of the powerful clan. With Kusagakure destroyed, Shiro had imagined that the once-great and reviled Funikumi clan had scattered to the wind, like the other families in the Hidden Grass. Perhaps, however, there was one remaining before him. One who had changed his ways, even.

His words didn't ring false, however. The reconstruction of the nation was vital for the survival of every one of the scattered shinobi of Kusagakure. They would lose their identity, assimilating into other nations, and eventually fade away under the shadow of the other great nations. This was the fate before them if they couldn't reestablish their home. And it would need strength. That much was apparent. What better way than to create a living weapon? To capture one of the beasts for the sake of Kusagakure... A noble goal, indeed.

“No one could,” Shiro said simply, “Only by capturing a beast of our own could we ensure that whoever claims this one does not overrun us a second time.” Shiro was not naive. He knew that the boy desired power. He could see it, shining in his eyes, in the strange gleam they took on whenever he looked at the beast. But, if that desire could simply be channelled towards aiding the village, then what problem was there with those that desired to become stronger?

“It's too late for us to catch this beast,” Shiro said. “We have neither the knowledge or strength to defy the great nations. But you speak the truth, Funikumi-san. With one of these, no one would dare look down on Kusagakure again.”