A walk in the C-C-COMBO BREAKER [Private]

[Oshiro Saki]

Almost immediately after Sukejuro and I left the ramen stand and that huge mess by it, I started asking him some questions about himself. What got me most curious was the amount-- and the variety-- of the weapons he carried readily with him at all times (or, at least, I assumed he carried with him at all times, considering that he had them when he grabbed that puppet). I expected that he was a shinobi, but his apparel, the nasty, degenerate rags he wore, suggested that he was probably homeless, or a hermit. Considering that Kumogakure had a pretty strict policy on utilizing everyone who could fight or manipulate chakra, I doubted that he was the latter. But it was still curious, and I wanted to see what I could pry at. What was under that mask he wore? Don't you dare say "a face" or something stupid like that, because that was obvious. What I mean is that I didn't understand why he wore the mask. What purpose did it hold? Was he paranoid of people knowing his identity? If so, why? Did he do something wrong? Was he hiding from a particular person? There was a lot to consider about this.

"So, Sukejuro... Well, my name is Jinkotsu Kosei. I was just really curious about you, if you're wondering why I wanted to talk. Are you a shinobi?"

It was a fair enough question. It would certainly answer most of my questions. Shinobi wear masks for different reasons, I knew that. I mean, I was in the ANBU corps. I wore a mask all the time. Regardless, if he was a shinobi, it would give us something in common that I could relate to (so I thought at the time).

 

[Horigome Sukejuro]

His eyes took some time to pull from the ramen shop, people of common interest communing now without the outsider - himself, lurking in the background. Excitement drained from him briefly before it was pulled back into him as he followed this male who had beckoned him. Such an odd situation, Sukejuro could not recall the last time someone had wanted to explicitly communicate with him and so he listened while he drained the very warm broth up through a straw in a ritualistic manner.

However, he knew the brief silence could not last for much longer and soon questions were levied toward him. For a minute he was stunned, things were moving...so fast, maybe he was getting cold feet. Shifting a bit as he looked around and after a great pause while looking at what appeared to be a random chimney stack he would reply.

"Yes, yes, yes I am. Chuunin Horigome Sukejuro at your service, and while I have no kiosk to host such pleasantries, it is rather pleasant to service kiosks. You understand, right?" He would ask, though the latter part of his answer seemed to make little sense. "Jin. Kot. Su. Ko. Sei. Your name is now special, for it is the first time in years someone has properly introduced themselves to me...personally, that is. Intimate, yes?" He went on to add with a bit more enthusiasm to his voice.

 

[Oshiro Saki]

As it turned out, Sukejuro WAS a shinobi--a chuunin, in fact. As it stood, that made him a higher rank than I... which, though I may or may not have been more skilled than he, he still outranked me. At that point in my life, I was still an ANBU in Training, which was the equivalent to a genin. Normally, I was perfectly fine with it, but in the year prior I'd begun to question whether or not I would ever be noticed. I had been with the ANBU corps for almost five years, and still I had nothing to show for it, save for scars from a whipping and a heightened situational awareness. Never a rank up. Never an honorary mention. Nothing. It really started to piss me off. I knew that I was probably more skilled than even some full-fledged ANBU members, and yet still there I was, AiT Kosei, the one nobody seems to notice in the corps.

But now's not the time for me to rant about that particular point in my life; I'll talk more about it later, in another thread.

I didn't know what he meant by "kiosks," as he mentioned at the end of his full introduction. Before I could reply to him and tell him I had no idea what he was talking about, he started in on with another sentence. He noted my name, repeating it slowly, with staccato for whatever reason, then... he told me that I was the first person to introduce myself to him in... too long. It's been far too long since I had the conversation with him, and I'm afraid I've forgotten how long he said it had been.

"I wouldn't exactly say it's intimate... but.. uh..."

To be honest, I wasn't expecting him to call an introduction "intimate," but I suppose that after a long enough time away from people, anything contact would be considered so.

"Sooooo what's up with the getup? I mean, why the cloths?" I asked, hypocritically. I, myself, was wearing regular black clothes, covered in a red "cloth"... even though it was more of a... cowl, thing... er... it was like a red ANBU uniform, minus the hood, and split open at the side, rather than down the middle.

Yea, I know I told you I was wearing a jacket in the other topic, but hey, I'M the narrator, it was MY life. I'LL tell the story however I wanna tell it.

 

[Horigome Sukejuro]

Murmurs cascaded through the immaterial world of his mind, the world around him seemed so mundane for a moment. Briefly, images danced through his head, ever shifting landmasses of stone imitating the shifting of clouds while made up of mockeries of flesh. These were part of the reason why he did not sleep so well anymore, howling winds of human screams echoed before he came back to reality in but very brief seconds.

Raising a hand to clutch at the mask as if it were his very own flesh upon his very own head, he held it firmly as pain shot through his head however he remained standing and was very much mobile. "Nonsense! Nonsense, nonsense and so forth! We are a blade forged of blood which no light should ever cast upon, and interpersonal relationships are a mockery of this~!" Sukejuro spoke as he turned towards Kosei "But that doesn't mean we should not cherish such, beneficial as they are harmful, harmful as they are a path to suffering." he was probably grinning underneath that bone white steel helmet of his before he waited for Kosei to properly address Sukejuro further.

"They are my skin, just as this is my face. My mother raised me properly like a filthy cur, and I am humbled that I was accepted as kin by the shinobi here. I do not serve to wear fine garments! I am a tool, I am a dog, I should not even bear so much as a name for the sort of trash they allowed in! Heheheh, but they did, and so I will be the noose around the throats of our foes!"

And though his words perhaps bellied wisdom of some sensibility however the very way he said it was off...the giddy glee he expressed when he referred to himself as trash, it was almost inhuman.

"But I wonder, why did you become a Shinobi? Do you know what it is like to live behind a mask for most of your life?" he would ask with...almost naive anticipation as he drew a hand from his head.

 

[Oshiro Saki]

I remember thinking that, from the way he talked, Sukejuro might have been borderline insane. One second, he'd be speaking in a manner I'd never be able to completely understand, as though his words carried a meaning deeper than man could reason, and yet at the same time they seemed so simple that a child could understand what he said in its simplicity. He spoke of his rags as his skin, and his mask as his face... and so I assumed that he must believe himself to be something... I don't know. Something. He definitely had a lower opinion of himself than was natural of a human to feel. Was he even human? Nonsense, of course he was.I shuddered nonetheless.

I was fine with him sounding crazy, but when he questioned me as to why I became a shinobi, I paused for a moment. My thought process halted just as quickly as my feet did, and I thought about my past. My head sunk a bit into my chest at the thought of my family, but I tried my best not to show it much. I picked the pace up again to match Sukejuro's,

"I became a shinobi to prove myself. My original surname is not Jinkotsu, it is Ichita, My entire family tree is filled with idiots, screw-up shinobi who died in vain, and complete failures in whatever vocation they went into. I was the first person in my family to show any sign of skill in ninjutsu (or anything), and so my I pushed myself into the Academy to show the world that my family wasn't a screw-up. I wanted to prove that I could break my family's string of poor luck. And I did." I said.

I faked a cough in a vain attempt to scare away the lump in my throat.

"A few years ago, my family was offered to join the Jinkotsu clan. We had the benefit of losing our family's horrible reputation, and they had the benefit of growing the Jinkotsu clan. Now, I'm the head of Jinkotsu... and I suppose it was worth it. I don't know."

 

[Horigome Sukejuro]

It was quite fascinating, it was a fascinating thing. Masks were not always so physical or simple but two people whom were so different, Sukejuro could see the differences and the similarities.

Yes, oh yes, he an I wear a mask!

A Mask of shame,​

Shame for his kin,​

and shame from mine to me.​

The pieces were fitting in, they had to be, most definately. Liquid fire coursed through his head, compelled to put together the facts as his focus managed to briefly peak beyond the fog clouds of mediocrity.

"You and I." he started off, "We are very different but similar. We bear masks, you adopted yours by choice but I was given mine by force. We must all play the hand we are dealt." he offered, before he choose to dig further on what he had ingested but the ilk made him feel sick in his gut. "I am regretful though, that we never met in the academy. I remember the day I graduated vividly..." He would look over to Kosei "Sometimes now, I feel it would be nice to make someone proud. Instead...there are just cold shadows projected from the baleful gaze of the moon to greet me, night after night."

for a moment, it appeared as if the quirks of his madness had been swept away only to return like rolling waves.

"My, my, my...where was I?" He muttered, before he snapped his fingers "So you gave up on your own family in favor for a new one? I was not certain that families were capable of being traded, but I will have to look for this next time I am shopping. Maybe one day I will afford one..."

 

[Oshiro Saki]

[color=0080ff]What Sukejuro said struck me. Was I really any different than he? Me, in my wealth, in my seeming carelessness of money? Here was a man who most likely lived in the slums, cast out by society, rejected of mankind... yet so wise. And I, foolish. Why was this? Why was he so much farther than I? Skill of shinobiri aside, this man had obviously progressed much more than I had. I no longer had to worry about silly things like money--I was the head of Jinkotsu, a fairly prominent Kumogakurean clan. I had money to use as kindling for fires. And this man... had nothing. That I could tell, anyways. Reality struck me.

"Sukejuro..." I said, not knowing where to start. "I have much to think about. You've opened my eyes to something I've never considered. I need to head home... but if you ever want to visit, if you ever need anything, visit the Jinkotsu Mansion in the Seki District. I'll inform people of you, and you are more than welcome to stay for some time if you need to.Thank you..."

I turned to walk away, still pondering over his relation of our own "masks." Maybe he hadn't meant it that way, but it was how I took it. It was a reality check for me, and now I needed rest. I was still worn out from my coma...

Was this the turn of a new leaf?[/color]

[TL]
Sorry for taking FOREVER. College stuff + girlfriend + forgeting = slow post >.>