Making an Appointment [AiT Request]

[Motomiya Kinten]

Power. It's what he wanted. It's what he needed. To protect himself and his loved ones, he needed to become more powerful and who projects the embodiment of power better than the ANBU? They're the best of the best and if he's as determined as he thinks he is, Kinten has the potential to share the same rank as the toughest shinobi in Kumo.

Kinten opened the doors to the Torre Celeste and paused after a few short steps, taking in the impressive architecture present before him. He no doubt drew some stares. Not from the scars covering his body, but from what was hiding them. The young ANBU-hopeful was garnished in a beautiful, silky orange suit. "Mmnn." It was nice to the touch. Most shinobi were dressed in the standard jumpsuit and vest ensemble. While effective, aesthetics were definitely not considered as an important quality in the design process. Due to his "medical condition" protective gear was at the bottom of Kinten's list of important things to worry about. No, instead a bright orange suit seemed to suit him.

He began walking towards the receptionist's desk once more and upon arriving, he introduced himself. "Hey, how are you? Who do I need to speak to about hopping aboard the ANBU train?" He closed his greeting the same way he always did, with a semi-cheesy and very flashy smile.

 

[Takaki Saeko]

“Hmmph. Trash.”

The tall, lithe young woman sitting primly at the counter shot a look of confrontational disgust at the billowy, orange-suited pimp in front of her and haughtily crossed her arms. If looks could kill or at the very least, maim, Motomiya Kinten would have had more than his cheerful mood potentially ruined.

“Vice Commander Takaki is currently indisposed for new appointments, and will continue to be so for the next fifteen years, approximately. If you possess the ability to write, you may leave a message for him which may or may not be answered in the order it was received, depending on his mood and/or blood-alcohol content, the alignment of the stars, and the current price of silver on the commodities market. Will that be all, sir, or shall I have the Raikage Guard escort you from the premises?”

[Sorry for the short post!]

 

[Motomiya Kinten]

"Errr..." "Man this chick sure is moody. She's probably impressed of my incredible sense of fashion. I mean, hot damn, this is a sexy as suit. I'm like the byproduct of a lonely night between an inebriated male model and a very seductive tangerine." "Hey sweetheart, I feel like there's some stress in the air. I'm not looking to make any trouble for you. Maybe I can just hang around and see if the Vice Commander shows up. While I'm waiting, maybe we can chat it up for a bit?"

There were a few quiet seconds that felt like minutes. "You know, I read that this dude was teaching people that we're all born with innate knowing, that from birth we're able to tell the difference between good and evil. Just instinctively. Personally, I find that to be asinine all the way around. I mean, we don't know anything when we're born. We can't rationalize anything when we're born. Hell, I have a hard time rationalizing between good and bad everyday. And this crock has multitudes of people following his teachings. If it was a paying job, I'd start spouting pseudo philosophy, too. What do you think? Do you think we can tell the difference between good and evil naturally."</COLOR><i></i>

Kinten looked around. He wasn't really listening if the skinny chick behind the desk was talking. She probably wasn't listening to him talk either, so it probably didn't matter. <COLOR color="#008000">"This is a nice reception area. Maybe I can work in the office when I'm too old to kill people. Hmn, might be a little too boring." The whole meeting coworkers at the water dispenser wasn't really a glorious career choice to him.

Hopefully the V.C. would walk in. It didn't look like the twig girl was going to budge on her "He's never going to be here" position. Hang on. How long had Kinten been looking around not paying attention to her? Damn! Maybe she's telling him he's actually here. He quickly looked back to the probably underpaid undernourished secretary, hoping her expression and attitude had changed.

 

[Takaki Saeko]

The woman simply glared back at Kinten in response to his offer to “hang around” and “chat it up.” As the seconds ticked by and the tension mounted to a gelatinous, sticky consistency that could have been easily shaped into bitter candy that left a terrible aftertaste in one’s throat that not even liberal amounts of chocolate could salvage, the woman continued to stare at the scarred, silky tangerine.

It was Kinten who was the first to crack, attempting to debunk the theories of a well-known television and self-help-book guru named Hubbard Elron who was also a staunch advocate that all bad things in life were caused by an infestation of tiny ghostly men (or was that gerbils?) called “thetans” that crawled into any available orifice on any available surface and thus by doing so caused everything from food spoilage to AIDS. The woman still remained silent, but upon seeing that this trainee hopeful’s response had been to start (albeit meaningless) conversation instead of 1) attempting to take her hostage 2) attempting to assassinate the Raikage 3) destroying the ground level reception area of the Torre Celeste 4) calling her a “fucking bitch” and taking his football home 5) meekly writing a note to the Vice Commander begging for an appointment in 15 years or 6) protesting that he actually did not know how to write, moved her hand off of the button underneath the desk labeled “Trapdoor to septic tank” and instead pressed the button labeled “Party Hard”. Kinten’s gaze was now back on her. She now cracked a hint of a smile.

“So, did I at least rustle your jimmies a little?” she asked.

The door behind her opened and Masao emerged now, clad similarly to Kinten, save for his choice of business wear was so much less flamboyant by comparison. He beheld the new arrival. Much younger than the last one. Around my age when I joined. Large amount of scarring present. Ugly suit. With a simple wave of his hand, he gestured for the hopeful to follow him into a sparsely-furnished meeting room.

“I’m the Vice Commander. What you experienced out there was a test, obviously. It screens out about 80 percent of applicants, most of whom proceed to attempt some violence against the Raikage upon being told that I’m not available. I think it’s something in the water that makes the current generation fish-brained and unable to handle stress. Either that or way too many families are turning to worshipping Dagon or Nyarlothep or whatever abomination is most popular that week. So tell me, Motomiya Kinten, Soap Fortune Heir, why you want to join the ANBU instead of reclaiming your business and living the good life?”

 

[Motomiya Kinten]

"Rustled isn't the word I would use, but..." Kinten's train of thought was abruptly thrown off of its dull and rusty tracks. A door had opened behind the strange receptionist and a man was standing in the doorway. He was dressed nice, but not quite colorfully enough to be the birth right of a sensual fruit. Oh well, not everyone could fit that description. The man motioned for Kentin to follow him and as anyone in a building brimming with people that could kill him as easily as a malformed ant, he complied and followed.

"I wonder if this is the Vice Commander." "I'm the vice commander." "Ahh. Guess so." The man explained that the receptionist was a test and that he shouldn't worship some guy named Nyarlothep. Kinten would have difficulty spelling Nyarlothep. "So tell me, Motomiya Kinten, Soap Fortune Heir, why you want to join the ANBU instead of reclaiming your business and living the good life?” "Hmn..." Kinten's usually carefree expression shifted into a serious, determined stare.

"Well, even as handsome as the wonderful all-knowing Dagon had originally intended me to be, I was horribly maimed at a young age, hence the scars. Would you want to buy soap from a guy that looks like a jigsaw puzzle? I sure as hell wouldn't. No, if my accident had never occurred, I would have sold the company as soon as possible, retire at 18, and live out the rest of my days on a private island somewhere I've never heard of. Of course, that's not where I am because that's not the life I'm living. My father was killed while I was burning to death on the side of the road. If a strong Shinobi would have been there, maybe my father would have lived and maybe I wouldn't look like a 300 year old rag doll in an expensive suit. My mother's off somewhere comfortable where no one can find her so the only person I have to worry about is myself. But, one day, I'll have a family of my own and I want the strength to protect them. I want the strength that's only available to the elite ANBU of Kumogakure."

Kinten turned his stare away from Masao and towards the floor. He quickly collected his thoughts and faced the Vice Commander once more. There was an air of solemness swirling around Kinten that was very rarely present. "What I remember most from the day my family was attacked isn't my father's death, my skin dripping from my shattered bones, or my mother's tears. The thing that stings the most, is remembering how weak and helpless I felt. I know I was just a kid and that there wasn't anything I could do to help my family, but what if that day would have been yesterday? Would I have been able to do anything? I doubt it. As strong as I believe that I am now, I still wouldn't have been able to change anything. If I want to protect myself, my loved ones, and my village, I need to know that I'm the most powerful shinobi around. To have the power to protect those that mean the world to me, that is why I need to join the ANBU." Even after he finished, his gaze never left the Viced Commander's eyes.

 

[Takaki Saeko]

We have ourselves a humorist. How wonderful. And by wonderful, I mean fucking terrible, Masao thought to himself as Kinten began his explanation. So – this one wanted power, like many others. It was perhaps the oldest, and certainly most primordial human urge to manifest itself on the collective consciousness of mankind, older than the desire to kill or have sex or eat delicious things. Not that it was an unreasonable wish in this one’s case. After all, seeing one’s father murdered while being immolated at the same time would certainly induce high levels of crawling in one’s skin, especially with wounds that would not heal. He reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it, slowly.

“There are many shinobi who come from unfortunate circumstances. You are certainly not alone in having lost family members to random acts of gratuitous violence, and you certainly aren’t alone in desiring the power to protect what you have remaining. It’s not wrong of you to want power, and in fact I admire that you’ve turned your scars and your trauma into a driving force in your life. But it’s not a good reason to join the ANBU.

"I’ve read your file. You’re a jounin-level shinobi of the Main Branch. By simple virtue of that fact, you’re considered a human weapon of mass destruction, able to annihilate entire armies on your own, let alone a group of bandits. So you certainly can protect your family right now from pretty much any threat in the world, except maybe from a large group of S-rank missing nin. But any shinobi, even the Raikage himself, is completely and utterly fucked should that happen. In any case, you have enough power already, if that’s what you’re looking for.

"Being ANBU doesn't somehow add to your ability to kill things or take more damage or some other mystical bullshit like that. It really means you give up a lot of your personal freedoms, all of your spare time, and much of your individual identity in service to a village that doesn’t really appreciate your presence most of the time. You’ll probably die a pretty agonizing death doing a thankless job, and no, it won’t even get you pussy because you won’t have the liberty to pursue it like you think you will. If you value your independence and don't like being told what to do, you shouldn't join. Sorry, but that’s the truth.”

He tapped the end of the cigarette against a nearby ashtray, watching idly as the smoldering column of ash fell inside and became cold.

 

[Motomiya Kinten]

The Vice Commander spoke icy, harsh words. And as brutal as they were, they were the truth. The tone in Masao's voice, his demeanor, it was obvious that he spoke the truth. Kinten hadn't the slightest idea how long this man had been employed in the ANBU, but with his high rank, he must have given the majority of his life to the corps. How much of the man was left? Who was talking to him? Was it Masao or was it a man taken over by burden. Would Kinten end up like him? Was this his path? When he walked into the Torre Celeste, he was certain that the ANBU life was the life he wanted to live, but now... Now his head was swirling with indecision. The ANBU were selfless, brave, and unafraid to die for the greater good. Did these things describe Kinten? Could they become the significant marks of his moral demeanor?

"Sir, I do not seek the power of an individual. One man can only defend so many. No, I desire the strength of many. It is my intention to give my strength, my life, to the ANBU of Kumogakure. My mother is the only family of which I would concern myself and she is safe where she is. All I have is myself and the people of Kumogakure. I grew up here and while many people here are scum, there are the few that deserve to feel safe and protected. This village has been very kind to me and I feel that I owe it whatever I can offer."

The shinobi sternly watched the paper sizzle and burn on the Vice Commander's cigarette. Is that the life of an ANBU? Blazing away to ashes, quickly replaced by the next soldier in the box, happily waiting to serve his purpose? Maybe. Maybe that's all there was to this ANBU business. Used until there's no more left and thrown on the dirty street like garbage? Maybe. Was Kinten truly willing to give himself up to protect his home and the people within it?

"Sir, I'm here to protect the people of this town. I want to eliminate the evil that exists in the world. I know that one man could never accomplish such a feat, but if I don't do what I can to protect the innocent, then what good was my life? My purpose is to protect the good people of Kumogakure and to eliminate the evil that threatens to corrupt it. I will selflessly give myself to this village to protect it."

Any doubts the grizzled older commander may have thrust into Kinten's mind had dissipated as he spoke aloud his wish to keep Kumogakure safe.

 

[Takaki Saeko]

“Ah, now you start to tell me what I want to hear. Your words make sense, Motomiya. But whether you truly believe them for yourself, is the real question. I cannot make that determination for you – only you can do that,” said Masao, stubbing out the cigarette.

“I’ll give you a chance, but also warn you again to think carefully about this. The ANBU are not some sort of exclusive club that restricts our membership because we want to feel special. The simple fact is that least as a trainee, you’re going to have a hard time. Not everyone makes it through, and we feel that if someone can’t or won’t adapt enough to make it through the trainee period, that the doors to the Sileo should be closed forever. I won’t have my men and women dying because we gave a second chance to someone who shouldn’t have been given one in the first place.

“Personally, I prefer more experienced shinobi like you to join over fresh academy graduates any day of the week. You’ve all seen more of the world, have had more experiences both pleasurable and painful, and most importantly, have learned to control your impulses. Leaf apparently once gave leadership of their ANBU over to a ten-year-old. I’m told that Sennin Hansy’s tenure apparently ended in chaos and ass-grief and got a lot of good people killed.

“That said, the main issue with more experienced trainees is that you all mostly have your own ways of doing things which have worked for you, and understandably take a lot of pride in that, developing a fierce sense of independence. That pride, however, can lead to conflict, especially when your commander is younger than you or less experienced, and you happen to disagree with him or her. However, our command hierarchy is what distinguishes us from the Main Branch.

“Unlike the types of missions Main Branch is best suited for, which lend a lot of individual autonomy to shinobi who may be isolated for months at a time without support, our missions always have singular purpose and demand perfect execution and precise teamwork, and we always have support for each other. Often times, the jounin-level trainees have to relearn what it’s like to depend on others and to trust their teammates, and how to follow orders without objection for the sake of the mission. So yeah, you’re going to get incredibly pissed off a lot, at least at first.

“If you can accept this, as well as the chance of failure, I’ll permit you to enter selection trials and be assigned to a squad. You’ll be under the command of the Regent Commander herself as a trainee. My advice is to sit down, shut up, and do what she says at all times. If you’re ready to commit, then we’ll see you in one week at the third level of the Sileo for briefing and indoctrination. My buntaichou out there, the ‘receptionist,’ you encountered, will give you your initial clearances to get past the seals. And with that, I will take my leave. I need to go and pour a six-pack on Dyu’s, er, an old friend’s grave.”

[Alright, go request your AiT banner! Please read all the ANBU info in the general section of the Sileo as well.]