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Ninpocho Chronicles

Ninpocho Chronicles is a fantasy-ish setting storyline, set in an alternate universe World of Ninjas, where the Naruto and Boruto series take place. This means that none of the canon characters exists, or existed here.

Each ninja starts from the bottom and start their training as an Academy Student. From there they develop abilities akin to that of demigods as they grow in age and experience.

Along the way they gain new friends (or enemies), take on jobs and complete contracts and missions for their respective villages where their training and skill will be tested to their limits.

The sky is the limit as the blank page you see before you can be filled with countless of adventures with your character in the game.

This is Ninpocho Chronicles.

Current Ninpocho Time:

In Another Reflection, I Saw Yours Truly [Private]

T

Takahashi

Ninja
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Despite so much changing in the world, business seemed to carry on as usual in the Grand Palais. The area itself was a misguided and ironically named effort, to built as place where the poor and weak could live in peace. It truth it was little more than an abandoned pet project, and a prison. The entire area, sub-districts and all, had been cordoned away behind impenetrable walls of glass... Visually separated from the rest of the village, quarantined as though the residents were carriers of some plague. It was laughable, to Jin'ichi at least, that anyone thought such a foundation could blossom into anything more than chaotic strife. An environment had been created for the supposed helpless, only for those that could help to turn their backs. It was no wonder that many who called the Grand Palais home had cheered on the Cabal, even as death was brought to the doorsteps of the innocents.

Subterranean living made sunlight a distant memory for any who stayed there too long. Darkness would not swallow the people whole though, thousands of lightning infused bulbs gave the impression of an urban city's nightlife. In almost total paradox to the visual signs, night hadn't arrived, a large digital clock on a nearby building flashed 5:47 PM off in the distance. Mercantile establishments were in no short supply in these parts, and it was even whispered that the Black Bazaar offered stock found nowhere else in the world. There was a drug problem in the Grand Palais, and sources indicated the Black Bazaar as its epicenter. It was common knowledge that the local organizations operated as though various sectors within the Grand Palais belonged to them, implicitly. None of it made any sense, not when the supposed leaders of the village were capable of bending the elements and breaking stone barehanded. Something was very wrong with the village on a large scale, and it didn't start at the bottom or even with the criminal element...

Jin'ichi found himself sitting on a rail, apparently watching idly as the world moved around him. Just as in any other city, one could spot couples, vendors, the trekking businessman, and as unlikely as it seemed even parents with their children. With his left eye covered by an alabaster patch, his uncharacteristically blue right eye soaked in the scenery. If one were to relate it to our world, images of Time's Square or the Shibuya ward in Tokyo came to mind. The main difference really only being in the population, for as crowded as it seemed the Grand Palais was put a portion of Sunagakure itself. As convoluted as it was, Jin'ichi was reminded of home... Even if he had never considered the island of his birth a place worthy of being called home in the first place.

Today, like many others, he wouldn't stand out very much in his appearance. A dark jacket remained with its hood raised, and similarly dark jeans loosely covered his slim legs... Legs that swung nonchalantly as his mind raced with dangerous questions and heterodoxy. He was a descendant of the First Men, a Takahashi no less, and found himself disillusioned with everything they had stood for. It was said that Primus fought for the freedom of humanity, but even with the obliteration of the Ancients had that goal been accomplished? No longer were their visible chains on the bodies of most that lived within Wind Country, but were they free from their avarice? Were they free from their self-centered ways? Weren't many still enslaved by their emotions and their egos? It seemed that all who had the power to make things right decided their own personal motivations superseded any moral obligation. "I wonder if that's why he left..." He'd whisper to himself more than anyone else, while of course reaching into his jacket to pull out a cigarette.

He couldn't shake the tales about the founding of the village, how supposedly Mother Suna blessed the Sunahoshi and created their way of life. Having descended from one of the families that served the Sunahoshi, an absent force, left Jin'ichi discontent and somewhat resentful. Never having believed in the deity of Mother Suna, it had come as little surprise to him when he discovered what she really was... What came as a surprise to him, was the way that his cousin received that information. Unlike the logical and intellectual man he was known to be, Sousuke appeared to slip further into irrationality and emotion he was never taught to handle. The being unveiled as Mother Suna had been little more than a sentient remnant of the past, wounded by loss and rejection. Shiori... No, Suna as she called herself, was more victim than her hubris would ever realize. The Kazekage... No, Sousuke as he was named, was more alone and unaided than he'd ever openly admit. Neither were aware of how their trivial differences distracted them from the world at large. It didn't matter to Jin'ichi that Suna was inhuman, or that she was adopted... She was a Takahashi, and even though she never knew Jin'ichi was the one that had taken her son's life. Perhaps in some ways, he was responsible for the conflict between herself and his cousin... Rolling the cancer stick between his fingers, he tried to conceive a plan that would put things together.

It was true that he was an insignificant man within the village walls, and perhaps even to himself... Yet, even the seemingly insignificant man could change the world with as little as the right words. The problem, in his case, would be finding the words that mattered enough. Toraono Kuro was a powerful and respected man, and there was a primal connection that fostered camaraderie, but his willingness to give the benefit of the doubt without investigation was detrimental. Even Nanashi, the consciousness inhabiting various bodies and lacking in social or moral understanding was propositioned to join a special Toraono group... Jin'ichi himself had been offered to train as Nanashi's partner, but he chose to turn down the Demon Lord's offer and distance himself from uncertainty. No doubt Nanashi had accepted the "Oath", something Jin'ichi didn't even entertain, considering the short amount of time between meeting and invitation. The unorthodox Takahashi was a man of thought as much as action, and more importantly of conscience. All the while he sat there unnoticed by the world, his thoughts lingered on its fate. "Doubtful, he's too selfish to have cared..."<i></i> He responded to himself at last, finally sparking flame to his cigarette's tip and inhaling the minty toxins.

Miscellaneous:
- You don't have to worry about mirroring my post length, and I'm also not saying you shouldn't if you feel you can. (Your only requirement is the 50 word minimum asked for by the administrators.)
- I'm more concerned with content and quality than how long you can make your posts, you've already proven to have an eye for detail so I'm not worried.
- While we're starting this off private for now, there's always a small chance that it could change depending on how things go. (Meaning, there's a good chance I may invite one or two others.)
- For anyone interested in joining, I'd appreciate it if you could request invitation by PMing me first. This is because I don't want the thread to get out of control/be filled with too many people.
- Please, if you're going to ask to join, at least let me and Ken knock out a few rounds of posting first. Simultaneous introductions generally lack the proper foundation necessary for building strong bonds.
- Let's have fun, and hopefully this RP will be a good "Welcome to NC" thread for you.
- Word Count: 1,100
 
It was easy to get lost in the brightness and bustle of the Grand Palais district. Home to an overcrowded mess of assorted citizens, this section of the city was notorious for its "unique" atmosphere. A wide variety of civilians, peddlers, and criminals alike made their living here; yet despite the cheap cost and ambitious design, there was never enough space for everyone. The streets teemed with the overflow and it gave the Grand Palais some of the worst rep imaginable. In spite of this, business was still booming. Lightning chakra bulbs bathed the district with an iridescent glow, welcoming the patronage of any who couldn't afford to shop in a safer area. Of course, price wasn't always the issue, since there are some things you just can't buy in the Sietch.

None of this was new to Ken, obviously. In fact, the young ninja-in-training didn't even bother looking up from his book as the afternoon din droned on around him. Technically he wasn't supposed to be here, not unaccompanied anyways. He could almost hear his grandfather's disapproving growls echoing in his ears. "How many times do i have to tell you to stay out of that damned rat's nest? It's a pit of scum, and you have a name to uphold!" It all seemed so ridiculous to Ken. What, having a bowl of ramen in the poor district was going to somehow disqualify him from being a ninja? What a silly thought. Ken smiled at the absurdity of it. His grandfather always did have strong opinions about this place. The old man and Ken's father could never get along when the Grand Palais was involved.

"It just ain't right, what's going on down there!" the old man would snarl, "I don't know what's going on with your leadership today, but back before we went under that kind of scum would've been rooted out!" Ken's father always tried to explain to grandpa that things weren't that simple, but the old dog would never relent. "You ever hear of the San Fang? No? Well you've got me to thank for it! In those days shinobi knew what it meant to be shinobi. A lot of good men died to stomp out the corruption because we knew that our sacrifice would mean the safety of the village! We didn't just leave the criminal element quarantined, left to their own devices, we wiped them out!"

It always troubled Ken that his father would never refute those points. He would claim that things were more complicated now, that a full scale shakedown just wasn't an option, but grandfather's accusations of corruption and complacency never went opposed. As far Ken could tell, however, the Grand Palais wasn't the den of seedy corruption that his grandpa made it out to be. Sure it could get sketchy at times. You'd do well to keep close watch on your wallet, but all in all it was full of people just trying to get by with what they had. It didn't matter how many times Ken interrogated his father on the subject, however, the answer was always a sad smile and an "I'll tell you when you're older." So much for that sentiment

Ken shut the book he had been absently staring at, and threw a few yen on the counter for his half-finished ramen. He had lost his appetite. Standing up from his seat and stretching, he looked out onto the street and couldn't help but smile at the bustling crowd. All these people going about their daily business as things were still as they had been for the passed 30 years. It was all he could do not to shout out to them "Go! You're free now! Explore the world!" Ken was still trapped here until he could finish his training, but soon he'd be able to take advantage of the village's new-found freedom. The young boy shoved his book into one of the pockets of his over-sized cargo shorts and turned to make his way back home, walking face-first into a cloud of menthol smoke.

"Whoof!" Ken exclaimed, waving a hand in front of his face to dispel the minty haze. Looking up at the source of the smoke, he saw man with a distinctive white eye-patch. Besides the pirate accessory, the man was pretty nondescript. His clothing fit in pretty well with the crowd, but he didn't really strike Ken as a local. There was no reason for Ken to think this man had anything interesting to say, and he nearly stepped away without a word, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Hey," the boy started, pointing at the man in black's face, "What happened to your eye?"
 
Thoughts could be distracting, taking away concentrated focus from the surrounding environment and turning it inward upon the self. Jin'ichi didn't have to worry about that much though, because his mind remained almost as alert as it was busy. No matter how loud his thoughts, the external world always seemed louder. Heightened senses betrayed the movements of those nearby, from subtle sounds to the mild vibrations in the soil and earth itself. Instead of being overwhelmed by so many sensations all at once, his brain immediately went about dissecting and identifying the source of every disturbance. It wasn't even something he consciously had to do, but more a reflexive action secondary to his usual thought process. It was what helped him navigate social waters despite his natural inclination to solitude. It was easy for him to spot a million details at a glance, and register the subtle changes in a person's body language or temperament. Being in tune with his primal senses was what ultimately set him truly apart from his cousin, and was perhaps the source of his rebellious nature.

Perception of time was another thing entirely, with each minute bleeding into the next. For as long as he'd been sitting upon the rail, looking out at the citizens, he had lost track of the time within moments of taking his seat. His attention to detail and the environment made the passing of anyone who came too close noticeable, but his body language showed no response. Anyone looking at him for long enough would assume him to be daydreaming at best, and absentminded at worst. Many feet tapped the cool surface of the subterranean project, but only a single pair broke into space he considered personally his own. The sound of a harsh, but youthful cough made his ears twitch beneath the shadow of his hood. Looking to his left he noticed a boy standing there, simply looking at him through the dissipating smoke. Unbeknownst to Jin'ichi, this child had been less than a few feet away from him reading and eating at a ramen stand for probably as long as he'd been seated on the rail. The boy asked about his eye, but Jin'ichi remained silent as his uncovered eye lingered on the child.

The boy was small and scrawny, and it was doubtful he'd break sixty pounds on a good day. The ebony hair was wild and unkempt, with blue eyes that seemed identical in hue to the shade his own right had taken overnight. What was further of interest, is that when the boy spoke Jin'ichi glimpsed the missing tooth mirroring his own childhood injury. Seeing the similarities brought an unconscious warm smile to his face, one that showed off his own missing tooth for a fraction of a moment. Giving a small shrug he looked down at his cigarette and flicked it across the street, surprisingly not hitting anyone as he did so. "It's complicated, but let's just say it has a tendency to do what it wants to." Cryptic as usual, avoiding any details about the malformation that laid beneath. Normally, his cigarette wouldn't have been discarded for anyone, but something about blowing smoke in a child's face didn't sit well with him... Recalling the days when he told himself he'd never touch the smelly cancer sticks, only to start puffing away by the time he was thirteen or so. The boy reminded him of himself a lot, since even mere months ago his hair had been wild and untamed prior to an atomic shift within.

Changing the subject, he'd flip the tables on the youth. "What happened to your tooth? Growing up?"<i></i> He teased at the possibility of a natural occurrence, unlike his own that would never grow back. On any other day, it would be unheard of to see him conversing with someone that hadn't even hit puberty... The last time involved a young Sunaku girl, and while things turned out alright in the end she'd surely be traumatized in ways only the future could reveal. It wasn't that he had done anything to her, but trouble had a way of following him in particular...

Miscellaneous:
- Absolutely loved your post, more or less exactly what I was looking for.
- Word Count: 0,693
 
It took a few moments for the mystery man to react to Ken's question. Whether he was still lost in thought, formulating an answer or simply ignoring Ken was anyone's guess. Ken was leaning toward the latter, it wouldn't be the first time. One got those kind of people sometimes: People who just ignore what someone has to say because they're a kid. It was especially prevalent among self-proclaimed "tough guys," who seemed to think themselves above interaction with minors. As if they had never been a child themselves. Although there was always the possibility the man didn't hear Ken, it was unlikely considering his single eye was fixated directly on the boy. The atmosphere was beginning to get a bit weird, and Ken was getting ready to repeat his question when the man cracked a smile.

For the briefest of moments, Ken glimpsed the mirror image of a missing front tooth, and his tongue involuntarily ran over the gap left by his own baby tooth's departure. The smile seemed hard fought but genuine, as if the man wasn't used to showing such displays of emotion. The appearance of the smile relieved some of the tension that had built up between the two, and allowed Ken to relax a little. The man thankfully relieved himself of his cigarette, but only responded to Ken's question with a shrug and a meaningless non-answer. Apparently this man was averse to speaking plainly. This would have normally been irritating to Ken, except something about this mysterious stranger intrigued him. His good eye seemed to pierce through Ken. It was as if despite only having half his vision, he could perceive at a greater level than those with the use of both eyes.

Before Ken could respond to the man's "answer" he was posed a question himself, the man drawing attention to Ken's missing tooth. This time it was Ken's turn to smile, his signature goofy grin spreading over his face. This guy was alright. He seemed kind of serious at first but he obviously didn't take himself too seriously. "Yeah," Ken answered, "I guess the tooth fairy likes to do what she wants to as well." He let out a little chuckle at his own silly joke, but decided to elaborate instead of simply leaving it at that. "It's just my baby tooth. My grandpa says it should have grown back by now, but it's not like he was a medical ninja or anything. He probably doesn't know about things like that." Ken wasn't sure why he went into detail about what his grandpa had to say on the subject, but it didn't seem like it was hurting anything. Maybe if he gave some information the man would be more willing to give some in return.

Despite knowing that he probably wouldn't get a full answer, Ken decided to try giving another question to the man. "You're not from around here, are you? It's not like you stick out or anything, you just don't seem like a local." Ken hoped the prying wouldn't scare the guy off. He was just really curious, though honestly that was par for the course. Hardly a week went by that Ken's "curiosity" didn't land him in hot water at some point or another.
 
With the scraggly youth's smile came an almost simultaneous little chuckle, near inaudible but made apparent through gesture more than anything. His own innocence and childlike nature had been snuffed out almost completely by the time he was around the same age, give or take a year. Things like poverty, isolation, loss and death... He had become intimately acquainted with, long before reaching the village of his paternal ancestry. The sincere and untainted expression reminded him, if even for a moment, that not everyone was out for themselves. Without interruption, he'd listen to the explanation involving a tooth fairy, feigning surprise as he raised a brow. "No sh- I mean... Yea?" Though playing along, he found it somewhat difficult to censor himself, amused by his own slip as much as he was by the reflective joke. Foul language was pervasive in the world, and it was doubtful the child wasn't already aware of several foul words of his own. Still, if he could allow this boy to exist in a more pure train of thought for even a moment, then it was worth it.

In the end, it seemed like the boy had lost his tooth naturally but experienced a slight delay in regeneration. The mention of a grandfather brought memories of his own grandmother, mainly because she was the opposite of the elder described. There was a bravery inside the child that showed he wasn't afraid of stranger, or of asking questions about anything that really came to his mind. Jin'ichi himself had been far more reserved, with his own courage only surfacing when it came down to the wire. He couldn't imagine himself just walking up to complete strangers, or even those he knew well and just saying anything. Nowadays though... He was an evolved being, for better or worse, one that would continue to morph into something unprecedented. The boy though, it seemed he was simply gifted with the will to mingle and voice himself from an early age. It would have been something to envy, if it weren't for the fact that he felt a kind of happiness towards thoughts of the next generation progressing faster than those who had come before. Communication was something that almost no one in the Shinobi world seemed truly capable of, and Jin'ichi usually remained to himself... Mostly to avoid being misunderstood, as was his personal curse of sorts.

Most people were protective of their children, and rightfully so. In a world where even babes were fair game for murderers, rapists, and extortionists, it was simply the right way to be. However; in Shinobi villages things seemed to be different. The dangers were even greater, and yet the parents who had short lives of their own usually gave their youth free reign outside of training. It wasn't too surprising though, not if one remembered that a Shinobi was considered little more than a profitable tool of war. People could dress it up with their beautiful words, soak it in drivel about patriotism and heritage, but the truth of the matter was that no greater good was being served... No care was given towards the lives that came and went in the blink of an eye, and only the strong survived long enough to be remembered. Who really cared if some child that hadn't even made it to the rank of Genin turned up missing? Even Makeinu... The bare minimum of effort put forth into investigating his disappearance stacked atop his own guilt, a sorrowful feeling he couldn't share with anyone yet. With all that in mind, it was no wonder he steered clear of most children... If he hadn't a good reason for interacting with them, any number of vile assumptions could be made. After all, he was a stranger... Even to those that shared his name.

Capable of thinking at speeds most simply fantasized about, his idle musings passed in mere seconds before being interrupted by another question. Blinking his one visible eye, Jin'ichi raised the brow of the one covered by the patch as if actually caught off guard for once. "Sharp... I probably shouldn't be surprised by what kids in a place like this are capable of."</COLOR><i></i> Turning his gaze away from the child, and now seemed to watch the people walk by as he had done before. Rather than ignoring him as one would erroneously predict if they followed his actions, he indulged the festering curiosity. "You're right though, I'm not from here... I was born in a place far away, well beyond Sora or Soon's Haven. You'd have to cross the sea just to get there." The exaggeration of distance was mild, and only implied rather than explicitly stated. Everything he said was true, while the island was still considered mostly a part of Wind Country by proximity, it could be considered an independent environment altogether... In ancient times it had been a green place, but as time droned on much of it was leveled and turned into an urban metropolis of sorts... More of a social cesspool than anything else. It was no wonder that his father, a criminal, would drag a woman there to hideout with and conclusively abandon.

"There aren't any Shinobi there, at least not openly... I can't make up my mind whether the Grand Palais is actually better or worse." His expression, while never overly animated seemed to grow a little more solemn and distant. "It's nowhere special though, and almost everyone there would sell their mother to leave it behind. I guess that's a given with a nickname like 'Concrete Hell'.</B><i></i> The sound of his lighter clicked rhythmically as he continued the little story, not loud enough to detract from the tale. <B>"I didn't really care that much about gettin' out. However; there's a man I want to kill. He was once a Shinobi, from here in Sunagakure actually. The problem with Shinobi, is that you usually need another one to take 'em out." He looked towards the boy, grinning mischievously as he wiped his thumb across his own throat. Everything from his tone to his actions were reminiscent of someone telling stories around a campfire, avoiding certain details while still making an interesting tale. "Hirin' someone else to take him out would've cost money I didn't have, and I wouldn't really get any satisfaction from someone else doin' it. So I got my shi- I mean... I got my stuff together, and boarded a ship to the mainland. If I'm goin' to kill a Shinobi, who better to learn from than the ones who taught that Shinobi? I decided I'd join Sunagakure."

Tilting his head away from the boy while tugging lightly at his own collar, he would expose the forehead protector and emblem tied about his neck. <COLOR color="red">"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."<i></i> He quoted an ancient adage. He fell silent and shifted his gaze back towards the floor, now slouching over with his elbows resting atop his knees. He pondered the point of telling as much as he did, but found little, other than it simply felt okay. It wasn't as if his story was a particular secret, but somehow it was disheartening to think he felt more relieved speaking with a child than his own family. Maybe it was because the boy was a child, unlikely to care or remember the tale after Jin'ichi would pass away due to some untimely death in the future. Perhaps it was how much familiarity there seemed to be between the two, but whatever it was... Jin'ichi twisted his mouth as he wrestled with himself mentally, and then exhaled before looking back at the boy and smirk. "I'm someone your gramps wouldn't want you hangin' around. I can tell you that much."<i></i> He'd laugh a little, choosing to not delve into the poor reputation he'd been building. He would have stated his name, but to assume it was wanted would have been pretentious at best. After all, he'd just told the prepubescent young 'un that his whole purpose for even being there was to end another person's life. Who was to say that alone wouldn't send the child home? Jin'ichi knew a bit better though... Maybe that's why he left certain questions to be asked, to satiate his own curiosity by goading the boy's own.

Miscellaneous:
- Fun Facts: Ken is so far the only person Jin'ichi has consciously decided to watch his language around, for now. He is also the youngest and smallest person Jin'ichi has interacted with thus far.
- Word Count: 1,388
 
The man seemed amused by Ken's joke. His mock surprise and willingness to go along with the joke brought more levity to the conversation. He seemed to stop himself short of using "foul" language, which didn't shock Ken in the least. As far as Ken was concerned words were words, none worse than any other. Adults, on the other hand, seemed to make a big deal out some words in particular being bad. Even more confusingly, the words seemed to be even worse the closer you were to a child. And just forget about saying them if you were a child yourself. In these instances Ken learned to just let grown-ups have their quirks, no matter how many people he asked why the words were rude, the answer was always "they just are." He was content to let them censor themselves, so long as they kept their weird rituals away from his own vocabulary.

From the look of it, Ken's follow up question was caught the man by surprise. The man commented on the boy's precociousness, which gladdened Ken to hear. Everyone likes a compliment, after all. Despite this, the man turned away afterward, and Ken was worried that he had asked too much. Perhaps he was getting too personal, grandpa was always telling him to watch what he said. It was hard to tell what some people might get offended by, though. In the middle of formulating a response, Ken was interrupted by the man answering his question, much to Ken's surprise. His answer revealed that this mysterious stranger was from a far off land across the sea.

Across the sea... Ken thought in wonder, imagination racing with the implications. Obviously the young boy had never seen the sea, but he'd read several books that featured the boundless expanse of water. It was an untold trove of mystery and adventure, home of breathtaking beauty and terrible danger. To even leave Sunagakure would be a dream come true to Ken, but to sail across the sea to new lands in search of adventure? That was the culmination of Ken's most heartfelt imaginings. Ken was gripped with an insatiable desire to know more, and the man obligingly continued. From the man's description of his home, he wasn't exactly fond of it, even comparing it to their current location. This wasn't enough to turn Ken away, however, and internally the young boy vowed that he would see this "Concrete Hell" for himself one day.

Dreams of adventure and high sea escapades were still buzzing around in Ken's head when he was thrust forcefully back into reality by the man's next comment. "There's a man I want to kill..." The declaration echoed in the young boy's mind. Growing up as he did in a ninja village, death was nothing new to Ken. Even the concepts of murder and assassination were things he was acutely aware through both fiction and his shinobi upbringing. Meeting someone with such a personal desire for bloody vengeance, one so strong that they were willing to travel untold distances to reach it, was something else entirely. Having the person killed wasn't even enough. This stranger from another land would only be satisfied if he could be the one kill his target, a shinobi no less, himself.

It dawned on Ken that this man had to come here to kill a shinobi from this very village, and reflexively the boy tensed, prepared to fight this stranger if it seemed he was a threat. Fortunately the man added that while his target was trained by the village, he was here to get the village's help in apprehending him. A missing Nin, then, Ken realized, body relaxing once more, Of course, why would he be telling me otherwise? After seeing the man reveal his Sunagakure forehead protector (worn in a place where it would be decidedly useless for protecting his forehead), the smile returned to Ken's face. The man was a fellow sand-ninja now, and therefore a friend.

The man's words and actions were curious, however, each one somehow raising more questions than it answered. For example, why would the leadership of the village grant membership to a complete stranger from a land that was apparently without ninja itself? As Ken pondered this, the man commented that the boy's grandpa would most likely disapprove of Ken hanging out with him. As cool as Ken thought this guy was, was inclined to agree. Sand Shinobi or no, Ken's grandfather wouldn't be happy with Ken hanging out with anyone he considered an "outsider." Ken loved his grandpa, but the old man's approval wasn't exactly something he sought out. His late father's opinion, on the other hand, was something Ken valued highly. And Ken had a feeling he knew what his father would have to say about this man's motivations.

"Hey," Ken began firmly. "I hope that training here can help you do what you need to do. But don't forget what you are now." His gaze locked with the shinobi, "You're a ninja of Sunagakure, and that means you've got a... responsibility to protect the village" He hesitated for a moment in the middle of his statement, trying his best to correctly remember the words his father had used to impart the importance of a ninja's responsibility onto Ken. "While you're getting stronger, make sure you keeping in mind the people who depend on you, too." He gestured around him to the bustling civilians on the busy strip. It wasn't perfect, Ken knew his dad would have been able to convey the idea better, but hopefully it would still be understood. Satisfied, he let his determined visage be replaced by his usual grin. "Anyways, my names Ken... Kuroba Ken." Usually his given name would have been sufficient, Ken wasn't one for formality after all. In the wake of invoking his father's sentiments, however, he felt it was only right if he honored his old man's name by giving it now. As he did so, he offered his hand to the shinobi in a gesture of greeting.
 
Far more of an analyst than one would think if judging by his appearance, Jin'ichi absorbed and accepted the little personality. The child didn't have to say much, the metamorphosis from enthralled to tense apprehension was remarkable. When danger had approached him, and it did often, Jin'ichi had stood his ground even as a child. For all the cuts and scrapes that scarred his clothed body, he never bullied anyone. Yet, when tested something inside him compelled him to stay and move forward. The risk of death wasn't as terrible as the loss of pride, and manhood. Those were things he had learned to admire early, even in the absence of a father figure. Maybe all the action movies and games were to blame... He'd fight neighborhood gangs simply on the way to and from school. He could easily imagine this boy doing the same, if he wasn't so damned friendly. At such a tender age and with such a lighthearted disposition, it was doubtful the child had any enemies.

It was pleasing to see a young boy ready to face his fears, and it reminded him of two other brave children. Still, each was very different and keen in their own way. The tightened muscles and serious expression disappeared for a while, after the boy saw Jin's emblem. It was hinted in every way even before the child uttered a word what his destiny was. Even among the struggling populace of the Grand Palais, one sought to be a Shinobi. This theory would be entertained by a stern yet encouraging speech. Jin'ichi himself now wore a rather plain expression, a slight frown on his lips but not carrying sadness. It was a serious look, this sort of thoughtful expression that clearly took the youth seriously. The slight hesitation was to be expected, even from one so brave, when speaking words so powerful. After looking down at the extended hand, Jin'ichi would shake his head and laugh sincerely for a moment. A look of joy that couldn't have been faked by the best actors swept over his countenance. He was quite obviously amused.

The fit of laughter didn't last very long at all, and a smile replaced the frown. When he reached out and shook the boy's hand, it was a cold and strong grip. Ironically, the handshake itself would feel very welcoming and natural. "You're fuckin' right I won't!" He could no longer contain himself. The maturity he saw was enough to garner total respect. Pulling his likely smokey hand back, his smile subsided for a grin. "I'm used to fightin' other people's battles any way. When I was officially made Genin, I knew that I became a part of somethin'. The problem with me is, I don't do anythin' half a- way..." He'd look towards citizens and shake his head once more slowly. "Most of these zombies don't even know what their livin' for... But, as long as they're alive the chance for them to do good is ever present." Perhaps the words he spoke were abrasive to the ears of most, but that didn't stop him from going on. "It ain't like I'm a saint or nothin', I'm just sayin'... They could try a little human decency sometime." Silence followed for a few more seconds, and contemplation was written all over his face.

"When I accepted this." He pointed at his neck, though the emblem was now hidden. "I accepted everythin' that comes with it... I'm a man of my word, so I don't give it out too often."</COLOR><i></i> There was a mild shrug, but he wasn't finished. "I want to see this village become the very best, like it's never been before. I'll always do my part to see it happen, but after I kill my target, takin' Sunagakure to the next level is full-time." In a blunt and unceremonious manner, Jin'ichi downplayed the importance of target on a long term scale. "My name's Takahashi Jin'ichi... Jin or T.K. is fine too, I don't really give a da-ng..."<i></i> The Takahashi had a reputation as one of the most loyal clans to have ever existed. Their lineage was traced back to the First Men and the High Sunaku heirs, heirs called the Sunahoshi.

After Primus' defeat of the Ancients, and a new era began, Takahashi Ino became the first official Steward. She served Sunahoshi Nori, the first Kazekage. While she failed to save him thirteen years leader from the jaws of a Sandworm, she would lost her legs destroying the monsters brood preventing further devastation. Effectively crippled, she retired and her son, Takahashi Eisuke would take her place and die the final battle against "Barnyx the Devourer". Eisuke would be replaced by his first cousin Shiro, and the cycle continued. Those were but a handful of the legends that swarmed the village. Tales of the First Men could be found in any book, magazine, and even recollected in newspapers as reminders of the past. There wasn't a clan among the First Men more recognized than the Sunahoshi and Takahashi. The former at the Diamond Throne and the latter on the Throne of Steel. Their powerful bond was said to be ordained by Mother Suna herself, but that was a lie.

The last known Sunahoshi were Hiro and Daisuke, Hiro dying to illness without heir and Daisuke vanishing on a mission. That happened almost thirty years ago, and the Takahashi family had been leading the village in their absence ever since. The clan had made their focus the search for Daisuke, at the behest of Takahashi Judori. Still, they found no success and time rolled onward. Takahashi Sousuke III had been the acting Kazekage-Steward for the last four or five years. Like every other Takahashi before him, he denied the Diamond Throne in favor of tradition. He too sought to find a Sunahoshi, but when he did the heir refused the throne as well. This recent discovery was never made public knowledge, but Sousuke was now the Kazekage in full and Jin'ichi had supported the decision. Their clan no longer had the Sunahoshi to serve, but Sunagakure still needed them. Their motto 'We're King's Men', seemed severely outdated. While they had a reputation for loyalty, competence was arguable when one mentioned the shortcomings and disasters as of late. After all, any failure was a failure under the leadership of the Kazekage... The people in the Grand Palais, or at least some of them, weren't quite fond of the legendary clan. "Look, it was nice meetin' ya' kid, you're gunna' make one Hell of a Shinobi. I'll catch ya' later."<i></i> Just like that, he scooted forward and landed on his feet. Sliding hands into his pockets, he almost took the first step but paused.

A single sapphire eye pierced through the crowd, like a blue flame flickering as people walked by hurriedly. Though blue like Ken's and the left eye of Jin'ichi, this eye carried a powerful electrical tone. From so far away, it might not easily be noticed but Jin'ichi had paused specifically to identify the source. In the blink of an eye the figure was gone, and a flock of shadows swarmed only a couple feet from Ken and Jin. The sound of a distant caw echoed somewhere, but even Jin'ichi couldn't tell from which direction. As the darkness formed into man, and a few ebony feathers spiraled towards the earth, a rather traditionally dressed Shinobi appeared. The dark blue gi was textbook stuff, not flashy like what folks wore nowadays. The dark brown of his protective leather and bindings gave him an earthy aesthetic, befitting their underground environment. Despite, or perhaps because of the many bulbs one could steel see the cavernous ceiling way up high if their eyes were sharp enough. The soil beneath their feet was far more accessible for comparison.

This man was clearly an elder, signified not only by his stark gray hair, but the mild wrinkles on his face. Like Jin'ichi, he too had an eye covered, but the opposite one. Instead of an eye patch, a dark blue piece of cloth maintained his traditional ambiance. He was serious, and had a visage like creasing stone. <COLOR color="#0000CC">"I've been watching you two for some time now... " The deep voice was intrusive, carrying a bass that sunk into the depths of one's psyche. The electric-blue eye would smolder, causing thin ribbons of light to coil and dissipate nearby... Until it no longer glowed, and yet, still carried a brighter shade than both young males. "Kuroba and Takahashi, two of the ancient clans that helped found this village. In recent times, both your families have bled for a village that still suffers now." The old, but robust man seemed almost like a mannequin whenever he fell silent. His breaths were so shallow as to be unseen, and even his single pupil seemed unwavering. "Your father died during the Djinn invasion, an ANBU worthy of his title and respect." The elder addressed Ken directly, looking down at the child before curtly shifting attention back to the Takahashi clansman. "Your father betrayed the village, before you were even born and put a blemish on the loyalty your clan so honors." Half turning away from both young men, the elder Shinobi would look off into the distance.

"You both possess characteristics that have become uncommon, even among Shinobi... If shown the path to true power, do you think you'd be able to walk it?" The reverberations of his voice sent unseen waves through the air. Simply being in proximity of this man would cause the hairs on the back of Jin's neck and just about anyone else's to stand on end (Daunting Presence | Mastered). This mystery elder seemed to be making them an offer, but Jin'ichi would remain silent. Ken would be allowed to speak first, while Jin chose to study the man further. While he could be aloof, now clearly wasn't the time for such frivolousness. Something big was happening, and he could simply feel it in his bones. Like Ken moments before, Jin'ichi found himself tensing in preparation for a fight that was unlikely to come. There was no fear in him, only wariness of a strange and potentially very powerful man.

Miscellaneous:
- Yes, he did just make those Pokemon references. Indeed, I did.
- Commentary: We see how language watching his language is working out, now didn't we?
- Word Count: 1,708
 
The man absorbed Ken's speech in silence, his expression betraying nothing. As usual, he seemed to be keeping his emotions in check as he came up with a response. He seemed to be taking Ken's words seriously, not simply letting them wash over him like so many other adults would in the face of a child's ramblings. It was a good sign. Ken liked the guy so far, but his response here would dictate whether or not the two could become friends. Ken hoped and believed that the man would accept Ken's words and take them to heart, but there was no real way to know if he would. There was always the possibility that the boy's declaration would be received as an insult and rejected. As unfortunate as that would be, Ken wouldn't lose any sleep over it. Not everyone was cut out for the shinobi way.

The man looked down at Ken's outstretched hand... And promptly began roaring with laughter. It was that sincere, contagious type of laughter that lifted the spirits of everyone who heard it. In his surprise, Ken failed to even react to the sudden shift. Then, almost as soon as it had begun, the guffawing was over. The man's hand gripped Ken's, and Ken did his best to match the shinobi's firm shake with a powerful grip of his own. The young boy was relieved. He felt like he'd just made a true friend. The man's colorful response revealed a charmingly abrasive personality. It seemed his mystique had finally been broken by Ken's prodding, and he was willing to show some real life. Ken nodded eagerly at the man's apparent excitement, taking in his words and trying to see the world through his eye.

The shinobi was fiercely independent, yet his words showed he had a noble quality about him. It was somewhat masked by his aggressiveness, but it was unmistakable. Behind the man's lust for vengeance was a true sense of of justice and freedom, as well as sense of pride in the path he had chosen. The man certainly had a curious attitude toward his mission, though, mentioning his desire to hunt down and kill another person with nonchalance. He acted as if his target was just an afterthought, but it was obvious that he wouldn't be going through so much trouble for something petty. Earlier this blasé attitude toward killing may have put Ken on edge, but at this point he had confidence in the man's reasons, even if he didn't know them. There was a great hero underneath this rogue, and Ken had no doubt that he would be a real asset to the village.

Finally the man treated Ken with his name, and what a name it was. Ken was of well-respected and well-established pedigree. The Kuroba name was one passed down from the First-Men, instilled within it the solemn duty of protecting the humans' new freedom and way of life. As prestigious as it was, however, it didn't hold a candle to the power that was invoked by the name "Takahashi." There could be no argument, in the absence of a Sunahoshi there was no family that demanded more respect in Sunagakure, and some might have theorized that even Sunahoshi would fall short in that regard. Such theories were of no consequence, however. As far as Ken was concerned the Sunahoshi were ancient history: interesting to learn about, but ultimately long gone. Unfortunately, Ken's own family wasn't too far behind.

The Kuroba ancestry put great emphasis on their heritage. Only the blood of the first men was strong enough to defeat the Ancients, and so only the blood of the first men was strong enough to defend the village from its foes. As a result, the prospective marriage pool was slim for the Kuroba, and they could never grow larger than a few families. In the shinobi world this was dangerous, as such a small clan was quite easily susceptible to being wiped out in a single disaster. Despite this the name persevered throughout Suna's history, the Kuroba shinobi defending the village with courage and distinction. Besides his grandpa, Ken was the last in this line of ardent defenders. His father was an only child, and his Great-uncle and cousins died in the years before Sunagakure went under. His father, of course, perished as well, only a few years too early to see the sun again.

Ken was still curious. He wanted to learn more about Jin'Ichi's reasons for vengeance, his relationship with the Takahashis at the head of the village, and more. It seemed these questions would have to wait, however, because Jin'Ichi made it clear that he was prepared to leave. He gave his good-bye and hopped off the rail he had been making his seat. The send off was flattering and sincere, and Ken decided to echo the sentiment. "Until next time, Jin." the boy stated as his new friend stepped away. He'd get his answers yet.

Suddenly, Jin'Ichi seemed to freeze, his eyes focused deep into the crowd of pedestrians. Ken attempted to follow his gaze, but at first could see nothing but meandering civilians. After a moment something did catch his attention, only because it was obviously meant to. A shadowy murder of crows flocked before Ken and Jin'Ichi. In the distance (or perhaps in the back of Ken's own mind) there was an ominous caw. Ken didn't know what to think. Was it real or illusion? Was it dangerous or benign? His fists clenched and he took a step forward, bring himself side-by-side with Jin'Ichi. The shadow crows melded together, forming into the figure of a man. When the darkness faded, what was left was a serious looking aged shinobi, staring coldly at Ken and Jin'Ichi with a single iridescent blue eye. Ken's bravado stuck in his throat, and it was all he could do not to take that step back. The man's mere presence was overwhelming. As brave as Ken was, he was still an 8 year old, and frankly this man frightened him. The newcomer spoke with the voice of a mountain, the deep reverberations commanding respect to ones very core. As he explained what he knew of the two younger men, the sparking glow of his eyes faded to a bright electric blue. He spoke of blood, sacrifice, and betrayal, but also of opportunity.

The crow shinobi ended his speech, and Ken swallowed his fear long enough to parse together exactly what the man was offering. Power, that much was certain, but more than just that. Destiny. Both Ken and Jin'Ichi had their paths to walk. Both had to right the wrongs that had been brought upon their bloodlines. Much to Ken's shock, the shinobi that Jin'Ichi was bent on slaying was none other than his own father. That explained why the vendetta was so personal to the man, but the thought of slaying one's own blood was absolutely foreign to Ken. Ken trusted Jin'ichi's judgement in the matter, however, knowing that this was the path he had to walk. By removing the stain that his father had left on his name, Jin'ichi could rise above the betrayal and tip the scales back in favor of truth. Ken, on the other hand, was his family's last hope, a second chance for a life tragically cut short before it could serve its true potential to the village. The young boy's grip tightened, his fingernails digging into his palms, and despite the fear in his gut he flashed a determined smile. "I'm ready." he declared steadily, knowing that this wasn't a decision to take lightly. "I'm ready."

((OOC: Wow, I'm really liking this. Denrei is an awesome character and this is starting to get intense.))
 
The thought of a man like this watching over him without consent, it was slightly disturbing. Shifting his own pupil towards Ken, Jin'ichi would smirk at the thought of the child sharing similar heritage. It wasn't surprising to learn that the youth was essentially an orphan though, considering all the casualties suffered by the village as of late. Though having only been recently consigned to the village, he'd done his research on recent events. History was another thing, he had general knowledge of the world but still needed to learn the intricacies of his ancestral home. As the information finally settled in, he recalled skimming over the name Kuroba during his first weeks studying Sand's history.

He honestly couldn't remember much at all, aside from some policy regarding how the family could marry and procreate. It was an inconvenient detail that stuck out because it reminded him of the way Takahashi had been forbidden from intermixing with the Sunahoshi they were bound to serve. Of course, all this was old news and shouldn't have gotten under his skin... Yet, it did. The other detail he could remember, was that they were stalwart defenders from the earliest days and a clan that stood out even through the centuries. That detail made itself all the more appealing for the fact that there were little to no mention of any special genetic mutations or traits, unlike the Sunaku for example. This made them all the more similar to the Takahashi, bearing an unpredictable and unknown potential that could bloom into anything. While his clan had been known for their puppetry in ancient times, Jin'ichi and other Takahashi paid little respect to the tradition now.

The fact that Ken's father had been an ANBU caught his attention as well. He recalled going to the Toraono Dojo some time ago, with the intention of inquiring about the branch. He knew that they supposedly specialized in the capture and extermination of rogue Shinobi, however; he ended up walking away from the opportunity. Something about doing his work in such a shady organization didn't sit well with him, not when he considered just how much was still very wrong with the village despite their existence. Either they were incompetent, or intentionally failing their jobs, and neither were good in the least. He couldn't help but wonder slightly about what kind of mission Ken's father had been given during the invasion of the Djinn, and whether or not the man's death was simply a casualty of war. Even when Denrei mentioned his own father, Jin'ichi showed almost no response. His expression, stance, nor disposition changed to reflect any importance of the man in question.

Perhaps he was a little conspiracy minded, but where he came from, it wasn't unheard of for the law to be compromised by those in charge of it. It was hard to believe that in a place where even the children could walk on water or spit flames, that the investigated forces still couldn't put an end to criminal activity. Where was the manpower being focused? It clearly wasn't solely on the improvement of the village or the drugs and poverty. Yes; there were attacks by terrorist groups and alien forces, but it was clear the leadership was too overwhelmed to organize and strategize efficiently. Of all the villages his father could have been from, it seemed fitting that a place submerged in anarchy and disorder would give rise to a man like him. The ANBU themselves were known for doing things in underhanded ways. He wondered what price a Good man would have to pay, if he went against the grain. Jin'ichi could envision Meshita now, cutting deals with vermin and moonlighting behind the council's back. It would have been too easy. For one reason or another, the primary figures of the village were tied down in more personal pursuits. Then again, the longer one exists in a state of degradation the less willing they become to change it... Mediocrity becomes familiar, and soon what's familiar will be thought as always so. "Why do anything more? It's been this way for ages..."

Jin'ichi didn't think that way though, he knew better. Things could always be different, and change was one of the few constants in actuality. Ken, who was now standing firmly at his side, seemed an unwitting harbinger of change to come. The child, while unable to do anything against an opponent like the man before them, nonetheless stood ready to fight if the need arose. The old man went on, and his menacing voice continued to command respect. With little delay, broke the lingering tension with a smile and a determined exclamation. Blinking at first, Jin'ichi looked down and blinked again as the child repeated his affirmation. "Unbelievable..." It was hard to tell whether he was impressed, or concerned by the child's headstrong nature. The gentle grin on his face contradicted the disproving nod of his head. Deciding to give his own statement as well, he showed his suspicion. "Besides names, what qualities could a squirt like him and a bum like me have that would make us better than anyone else?"</COLOR><i></i> Never one to sign a contract without reading the mouseprint, he couldn't easily be flattered into association on any level. Both were descendants of the First Men, and yet; both of them were absolutely unremarkable at a glance.

The nacreous blue iris returned to the two young men, whatever having caught the elder's attentions moments before no longer of consequence. He did not smile, nor hastily reveal any inkling that he was even pleased at the thought of parting knowledge unto these youth. "I didn't say anything about being better than anyone else, because you aren't." Although the voice still send waves of vibration through the air that caused one's atoms to shiver, Jin'ichi could be seen raising a brow in slight confusion even though he agreed with what was being said. Instead of interrupting though, he kept his mouth shut and let his elder continue. "I said you both had uncommon traits, nothing more or less. These traits can be expounded upon and honed, making you hopefully of use to the world as much as the village, or yourself for that matter." He did not mince words, and cut through misconceptions before they could be had. "You're both young, but you both understand that words are meaningless without the intentions behind them. You'd do well to remember the importance of that revelation. Whether this is consciously or subconsciously acknowledged doesn't matter to me at this stage. Denial would be more detrimental to you than me, however; I'd prefer my time not be wasted proving the evident."<i></i> There was a cold and impersonal way in which the man spoke, as if he already knew what words he'd say and it didn't matter whom he was speaking to. As if the future would be in sync with his forethoughts.

"Fair enough, I'm in." Truthfully, he still had his doubt about where things would go but he wasn't letting Ken go anywhere with this man alone. While this old warrior gave off an unmistakable air of danger, and his words were frigid, truth had been in them. In every single word. "If you show me the path to power, I know I'll make the journey..." His own smirk resurfaced, nor mirroring the brash smile given by his new little friend. Without turning his gaze away from the two young men, the old man would point off in the distance. "In that direction, towards the furthest reaches of the Grand Palais, there is an old monastery." He'd let the hand that pointed off in the distance fall limb, like the power had just been shut off. He appeared mechanical, even in his movements and Jin'ichi couldn't help but wonder if such a soulless demeanor was the ideal for a Shinobi. It would certainly help to be cold and callous when your job was being a tool of destruction or manipulation to some end or another. "In three days, at nine in the morning, I'll meet you both there. Then we'll begin your instruction." Suddenly, the man's skin and clothing would turn black as ink. From all angles the shadow form he took seemed to stretch out, tearing off into black birds that fluttered apart and faded as though they'd never existed to begin with.

The mysterious elder vanished just as swiftly as he had come, without so much as leaving a name behind. Perhaps when Ken reached home later, he would share the tale... His grandfather was surely old enough to have heard the tales, and be able to surmise the truth. However; even if not, should Ken and Jin'ichi rendezvous with the elder in three days' time, they'd learn more. Standing there, with his hands still in his pockets Jin'ichi seemed intrigued while lost in thought. Looking towards Ken as the daunting presence gently faded away, he quickly pulled his right hand from his pocket and tapped Ken atop the skull lightly. "I guess we're gunna' end up with the same Sensei... " Tilting his head and looking off in the direction that Denrei had pointed out, he wondered what it would be like to be formally trained by someone who was clearly and expert. Never before had he been tutored or trained seriously, and those who tried where academics were concerned found him an uninterested pupil. Would things change now? "Try not to forget what the old man said, would suck if I had to sit through his shit by myself... "<i></i> He half groaned, but started to walk off and stop once again. <COLOR color="red">"I know you're a tough kid and all that, but you sure you'll be alright out here?" He fully expected the boy to say he would be, but in good conscience couldn't depart without asking. If the boy was fine, Jin'ichi would give an approving not and meld into the crowd like everyone else before he was gone.

Miscellaneous:
- Denrei's voice sound's like this.
- This is definitely one of the more interesting RPs I've done in a while. I loved it.
- I didn't want to do the time skip in this thread, since I have ideas for a mission and am not allowed to edit the first place to change the tag.
- [Topic Left] unless stopped, and don't hesitate to if you feel we can push this particular thread further.
- Marked for Training.
- Marked for Dojo.
- Word Count: 1,670
 
The trio must have made a queer sight, 3 generations of ninja in a tense standoff, the air between them thick with unspoken intensity. There would likely have been quite a few stares and concerned onlookers if the citizens of the Grand Palais weren't so busy tending to their own devices. It was a strange thought, despite the crowd of pedestrians seeming to meld into a single unit in Ken's perception, each person was in fact an individual with their own equally important story. Their dreams, fears, and troubles were imperceptible to Ken, but no less real than his own. Similarly, this moment seemed like a important point in Ken's life, the catalyst for what could be the realization of his ability as a ninja, yet dozens of people walked by not two feet away completely oblivious.

Jin'Ichi seemed surprised at Ken's quick willingness to submit himself to this mysterious man's training. Ken couldn't quite believe it himself. He was never one to cow to authority without good reason, and he knew nothing of this shinobi's back round or methods. It was inexplicable, but just knew this was the path he was supposed to walk. Training under this ninja would help him unlock the potential he knew he had, and for Ken that was more than worth a sacrifice of some freedom or autonomy. "There can be no progress without sacrifice, Ken...</B><i></i> His father's voice whispered, memories of the man who raised him floating into his mind. The man could never speak to Ken of his work, the specifics of his job being as clandestine as they were, but Ken could always sense an underlying sadness in his determined eyes. It was clear that he was no stranger to sacrifice in service to his village, and Ken had to be prepared follow in those footsteps.

Ken stood by as Jin'Ichi expressed his disbelief at the young boy's affirmation. The young Takahashi wondered aloud why this one-eyed stranger would be interested in training a pair as wholly unremarkable as the two rookies. As loath as Ken was to admit it, he had to concede that the Jin'Ichi was right. Besides their ancestry, there was nothing to set the two apart from any other young ninja. The shrewd observation piqued Ken's own interest, the boy's usually rabid curiosity having been previously supplanted by the intensity of the situation. Internally he thanked Jin'Ichi for asking the obvious questions when he himself was too eager to see what he should. The mysterious shinobi's answer was brutally honest and came without flair. Ken could tell from his words and demeanor the man would be a strict and unsympathetic instructor; his training methods would likely be far from pleasant, but they would no doubt be effective. The man told the two that they were nothing special, but that they had certain characteristics that were rare, and that could be developed into useful tools for a shinobi. He was willing to help them develop those tools, but only if the two were willing to put in the effort.

As far as Ken could tell Jin'Ichi seemed satisfied, at least for the moment. He too accepted the offer, stating his willingness with a self-assured smile. Ken noted Jin'ich's utter lack of fear in the almost demonic presence of this mystery shinobi. This confidence was beginning to rub off on Ken, and he could feel the tightness in his gut loosening with every moment. Ken's respect the man grew, and he was thankful that they would be entering this training together. The young men's new sensei gestured robotically at a point deeper into the Grand Palais, setting the time and place of their first training session. Without waiting for a response he exited, just as he had entered. His body melted into pitch black shadow, tearing apart into a flock of ebony birds. As the birds dispersed, Ken and Jin'Ichi were left alone to contemplate the scene that had just played out.

Feeling a light tap on the top of his scruffy head, Ken looked up to see Jin'Ichi looking down on him. The man remarked on the situation, confirming that Ken's experience was indeed real and not just an illusion. After his comment he looked off into the distance. His face didn't betray what he was thinking, but Ken figured he too was wondering just what they could be expecting in three days time. The boy had no doubt the training would be eye-opening, and Ken was already anxious to begin. Jin'Ichi warned the boy not to forget about the appointment, lest he be forced to endure the training himself. The thought that Ken could ever forget something he so looked forward to was laughable, but he appreciated the sentiment. The eyepatched shinobi began to leave but stopped short, expressing concern over Ken getting home in such a dangerous area of the village. This broadened the smile on Ken's face. <B>"It's not me I'm worried about, buddy." he responded with a wink. "I was born in darkness." As the man faded into the bustling mass of citizens, Ken called out to his new friend. "Take care of yourself, Jin!"

Just like that, Ken was alone in the crowd. The discordant din of multiple conversations and clattering footsteps enveloped his subconscious perception, melding into an incomprehensible drone. The artificial glare of the electric lights illuminated the strip as the enticing smell of ramen intermingled with the scents of various shops in the area. Ken let his surroundings wash over him, lost in his own thoughts. He had a lot to think about in the 3 coming days. His grandfather would no doubt want to hear about the encounter, and the old man may even be able to shed some light on the mysterious ninja who would be Ken's new teacher. Ken certainly wanted to tell his friends about it, though he wondered how they would react to Ken receiving special instruction from an unknown shinobi. Excited and anxious, Ken's trademark goofy smile snuck onto his face. With high hopes for the future, he set off for home, ready to discover where this adventure would take him.

[Topic Left]
 
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