Takayama's eyes widened as the seemingly simple set of handseals began to turn back time on the scrapes, bruises and sharp aches that had settled into his ribs. His ears still rang and his thumb could not be helped without something more, but to have had so many of the small hindrances simply pulled away into thin air was enough to breathe tremendous energy into him. As the warm and flowing sensation eased into a gentle hum the blue haired boy began to sit up, his vision rolling over his arms and legs in fascination. He was going to have to learn how to do that. As focused as he was, his words still seemed to leave without him.
"Thank you, shinobi-sama... I owe you my life...
The boy lifted himself, slowly at first, but with a quiet sort of determination that reflected some deeper purpose not readily spoken. His knees did not buckle like he had expected them to, but they did still ache enough to lend his stance a mild wobble. Once he was settled on his feet he gave as deep a bow as he could manage, followed by a hesitant question layered with tentative tones. It had started out excited, if anything. "... Are you a refugee too? I heard Kirigakure had to be abandoned as well, but my father never really explained-..." His voice trailed off, the boy realizing he may have offered too much to someone he didn't fully understand yet. His eyes fell to the swords at the man's sides, then worked their way over the trim in his military coat and up to his eyes. The swords bore very specific symbols that many in Konohagakure revered, if not worshiped, but they were not of the same cultural artistry that Takayama was familiar with. There was something decidedly foreign about them, the same went for the man's attire. It was too rigid to be from Konoha, something strict and regal about it that he couldn't put his finger on. The eyes were of a clan familiar to him and essential royalty in leaf, but even as young as Takayama was he could tell there was something unusual about the man's skin and facial structure that spoke generations of difference.
It was safer to remember his place for now, he would need to correct himself.
"I-I apologize for prying, shinobi-sama..."
He bowed again, his mind aflutter with one unanswered question after another. He would rise slowly, his gaze still burning with curiosity and that same quiet determination it had started off with. A determination that hinted at a will fueled by the seething embers and ancient promises...
