It had been many years since Shu's eyes gazed at the towering steel gates. It was amazing the village had not collapse over the many years. He still remembered when this place was nothing but rocks and terrain and now this great land was polluted with nothing more than political sycophants and shrewd militia. Instead of having enemies from afar all of their enemies were within with each coup following the next. The shinobi arts had transforming into cheap parlor traded for money between mortal men. Mortal men that once viewed shinobi as mere myth but now...
"Why the hell am I am doing this, again?" Shu thought to himself as he approached the gates with dismay. "If that boy is wrong about the afterlife would not save him." He was sure that the man could hear him, of course no one ever really took Shu's blunt dispositions seriously. He was dressed in his old ANBU gear. Old gear that would not be recognizable in this day an age, except the samurai. In the olden days, the shinobi to pride in concealing everything and simplicity was the key to everything. There was nothing on him but simple gray leather mixed with steel. There were no visible pockets or sides except the simple sheath sword on his back. His countenance was concealed by a mask made of bandages only show his dark eyes.
"Why the hell am I am doing this, again?" Shu thought to himself as he approached the gates with dismay. "If that boy is wrong about the afterlife would not save him." He was sure that the man could hear him, of course no one ever really took Shu's blunt dispositions seriously. He was dressed in his old ANBU gear. Old gear that would not be recognizable in this day an age, except the samurai. In the olden days, the shinobi to pride in concealing everything and simplicity was the key to everything. There was nothing on him but simple gray leather mixed with steel. There were no visible pockets or sides except the simple sheath sword on his back. His countenance was concealed by a mask made of bandages only show his dark eyes.