Requesting Entry Four Knocks [Seeking Entry]

[Masaru Yuuto]

A large metallic dome came into view, sunlight glanced off its exterior in dull flashes where the surface caught just right.

Sunagakure, one of the major governing shinobi villages of the Wind Country. Hidden in the sand, perhaps, but its bulwark was impossible to miss.

The hairs along Yuuto’s neck rose. He felt watched.

It was only instinct, faint but persistent, and it made sense. Sand shinobi were second to none; they would have seen him long before he ever crossed into their line of sight.

Not that he was attempting to hide.

With his current appearance, subtlety was no longer an option.

The cloak helped, but it could only do so much. Bone traced along his face, extra eyes remained half-lidded, and his four arms were kept close to his sides. His stomach ... that thing was kept carefully concealed. There was no reason to scar someone with it unnecessarily.

Certain now that he had entered Suna’s territory, Yuuto came to a halt.

His personal adjustments were complete. With a practiced flick of his hands, the wooden frames behind him stirred, raising their own hands to their heads as their cloaks were lowered in unison.

Two puppets stood revealed.

One bore blue, divoted plates, its frame reinforced and balanced. The other was adorned in red plating, crowned with a single horn that curved forward like a challenge. These were his most complete works, treasures shaped from layered myths, ones with meticulous craft placed into them. A seed of belief if you will.

Yuuto secured a massive summoning scroll to the back of the blue puppet, tightening the bindings with care.

A hint of satisfaction crossed his expression.

They looked… normal.

At least more normal than he did.

He resumed his pace, eager to reach the city proper. Despite his altered constitution, he felt the weight of fatigue pressing in.

A room, solitude, time to recompose himself. Those were priorities. Yet the closer he drew to the gates, the more something felt wrong.

Metal and stone bore signs of wear: scuffed surfaces, mismatched repairs, newer materials standing out against older construction if one knew where to look.

Sections had crumbled and been replaced hastily, the seams still visible.

Reconstruction and recent at that. But this felt like scars .... damage.

His guard rose a fraction.

Has there been a battle here? He thought to himself.

He hoped they would not mistake him for another aggressor if tensions were still raw. Had this been old Kumogakure, his head would already be on the ground.

The accursed were not always welcome.

 

[Chikamatsu Shin]

The restoration work on the Bulwark's outer sensors had taken most of the afternoon.

Shin knelt beside one of the repaired junction boxes, running diagnostic chakra through the detection grid. The attack had left more damage than initially apparent—entire sections of their early warning systems had been compromised, blind spots that made him deeply uncomfortable.

Five days.

It had been two days since Suna had bled. They had so much to do before his plans were needed to be in effect. People were still concerned and it was noticeable in the village, as the wounds were still fresh. Not just in the metal and stone, but in the way people moved through the village now. Quicker. More watchful. Afraid.

He couldn't blame them.

The diagnostic seal pulsed green beneath his fingertips. Functional. Finally. Shin allowed himself a breath of relief that died the moment the newly repaired sensor screamed to life.

Movement. Approaching from the northwest.

His hand went to his weapon instinctively, heart rate spiking before discipline reasserted itself. The summoned twin blades buzzed in the palm of his hand, hidden but ready.

Breathe. Assess.

The readout was... wrong. Multiple heat signatures but the movement pattern suggested a single individual. Unusual chakra flow. And those shapes—

Shin's eyes narrowed as he enhanced his vision, focusing on the approaching figure.

Four arms. Bone protrusions. Multiple puppets in tow.

His jaw tightened.

Another one.

The visitor moved openly, made no attempt at stealth, but after what Suna had just endured, that meant very little. The bold approach could just as easily be confidence as it could be threat assessment.

Shin's mind raced through protocols. Sound the alarm? Mobilize a response team? But if this was a legitimate visitor, overreacting would create an incident. If it wasn't...

The figure drew closer, and Shin could see the damage more clearly now. The misshapen body, the unnatural modifications. His stomach turned slightly. Whatever had been done to this person—or whatever they'd done to themselves—it was extensive.

The puppets were masterwork, he could tell even from this distance. That spoke to skill, to resources, to Sunagakure training if the style was what he thought it was.

But it also spoke to capability. To danger.

Shin pressed his hands into his seals for the Mind Thread Jutsu, keeping his voice level despite the anxiety creeping up his spine. `Gate control, this is Chikamatsu Shin. I have visual on an incoming visitor. Probable puppet user, multiple constructs, physical abnormalities. Requesting backup to standby position but do not engage unless I signal.`

He didn't wait for confirmation before moving to intercept, positioning himself in the visitor's path but maintaining distance. Strategic distance. His fingers already threading chakra strings to the emergency mechanisms embedded in the gate structure itself.

When he spoke, his voice carried across the sand, measured but unmistakably cautious.

"That's far enough."

Shin stood with deliberate stillness, though every muscle in his body was coiled tight. His eyes tracked the puppets, the extra arms, the concealed mass at the visitor's midsection. Cataloging threats. Calculating response times.

"State your name and business in Sunagakure."

A pause. His hands remained calm but ready.

"And forgive the reception, but given recent events, we're taking extra precautions with all arrivals."

His tone was professional, but there was an edge beneath it. A wariness born from watching his home burn two days ago. From pulling bodies from rubble. From knowing that their defenses had failed once already.

He would not let it happen again.

 

[Masaru Yuuto]

Something stung Yuuto, like a prick on the nape of his neck, the sudden

He felt the presences of multiple people moving about.

The sand shinobi were definitely onto him.

Guess it was option B after all...

Their sensors and gate guards did not move in. This was too organized to be a regular response.

Suddenly the largest signature he had felt since coming here appeared.

A man with a regal aura appeared before him. He appeared on the young side that or he had a prince-like charm, an air of nobility.

Yuuto noticed none approached with the man, yet they were poised and waiting, hiding in the shadows.

He surveyed the walls, looking at the top of the wall, partially ignoring the man before him.

It wasn't out of rudeness, simply that he needed to make sure that if he was attacked he could respond properly. Besides, his split vision made it easier to multi-task.

"That's far enough."

The man's voice cut the air. His tone was curt, dry, straight to the point. Not that Yuuto minded, but either this guy had a stick up his you-know-where normally or he was wary of him.

Not that Yuuto could blame him, he looked like something out of a horror book.

The accursed sighed, then complied. He dug his heels into the ground and waited. He could see the stranger looking him over, he looked like he was ready to explode at any moment.

Next, the shinobi asked him for his name and business, he even kindly offered that their caution wasn't personal...

"My name is Masaru Yuuto..." he said cautiously. He had abandoned Cloud during a time of strife, after the death of Hayate Shin. He then abandoned Leaf as well, leaving after stirring chaos unintentionally.

"My business?" He pondered for a moment, letting the question linger. He slowly moved through his mind recounting the facts.

Truth be told, he didn't even know what Year it was. He had been trapped in the Abyss, far beyond the reaches of mortal hands.

He had no large funds, he had no militia at his back, he didn't have alliances, influence, resources to craft. Yuuto was a bum now, for lack of better words.

Without much further though he blurted out an answer to the guard, "I am here to rebuild. To forge a new path."

The answer was simple, but mildly crtptic. It's not that he meant to be but it was what he truly felt.

However, he was not so unaware of the vibe that he'd leave the response on such an odd note.

"My apologies, my Clan's origin is in the Wind Country. Nomads from the Expanse, a few have served your village." His words were metered, weighed with truth.

"The Masaru Clan? Clan of monster hunters? Any information you have would be helpful."

Yuuto waited patiently, he didn't want to cause any unnecessary trouble it was clear their hostility wasn't aimed at him. Although he was still on guard too, underneath his cloak with one of his arms he clutched one of the treasures,

The Puppet weapon Tenrai, the heavenly lightning. A simple puppet blade that had some small compartments and tubing for the normal puppet armaments. However the inner wrappings were lined with summoning seals to bring out more of his puppet weaponry. An armament that while crude in design, evoked Yuuto's combat style.

Either way he wouldn't hold this puppet artifact threateningly just very tightly, under his cloak, in the instance that he was attacked.

[Hello!]

 

[Kureji]

Kureji would be casually walking around and see people rushing around, with Glowy Dude taking charge. He thought, what the hell. Maybe he can squeeze some yen out of him for doing a job here and there. Hands in his pockets, he would walk into the fray of things.

He had his guitar on his back, and anyone that appreciates art of puppetry would realize that the guitar was so much more than just a musical instrument. "Wassup peeps." He heard a little bit of what was going on. Glowy dude giving... He cocked his head to the side and scratched his head... A rather interesting individual a very short, one sentence rundown of problems have found its way to Sand.

The individual in question had an interesting body. Not that Kureji was interested in, but rather that he screamed different! Much more different than Kureji himself. He smiled that could be shown on the cover of Shinobi Today magazines as he would say, "Damn, you look cool. You must be a badass!" He said it as a compliment.

(entering with permission from both)