The young boy couldn't believe how easily Kunashi relinquished the book. This boy was incredibly naive, and Kotsuko thanked him greatly for that. With the book within his control, the young boy would be able to do things the proper way. Slipping his sands back into the vaults, the young boy retrieved the correct one. Even though his peer had failed to retrieve the correct book, Kotsuko would be able to correct things now. If nothing else, he'd make for a good fallback in case anything happened. Kotsuko even had recorded proof to back it up, which was much better than Kunashi's word. The sands slowly brought him the book he'd wanted, which he snatched out of the air with a furious curiosity as to the contents that it held. Settling down into a chair, the young boy began to read, the wrong book hidden from a stranger's gaze.
Page after page, there were scribbles and notes, all of them in Ancient Kumo. They seemed like fairly trivial things, unsuccessful experiments and mere postulations as to where the research was supposed to go. Ko frowned, having thought that this research would have been what he was looking for: the ability to dominate an object only with one's will, to channel life energy into an object and control it. It was possible, he knew. He'd seen the old swordsman Kotsurugi do it. Maybe it was an impossible dream, but the young boy didn't think so. He'd said he'd taught others to do it, which meant it was a kill that could be learned. Kotsuko would figure it out, one way or another. Maybe this book just wasn't the one that would contain the knowledge he sought.
It wasn't until the end, though, that something caught his eye. The research seemed to end, inconclusive and fruitless. However, after a few blank pages, a new set of handwriting took over. Different ink, different writing style, but curiously enough it was on the same subject. They were notes about, what seemed to be, a new iteration of the experiments done. Whoever wrote these notes seemed to be of a similar mindset to Kotsuko—h was trying to link the secrets of binding a soul to a weapon to those of binding a soul to another object. In the case of this research, a body.
Kotsuko kept reading, furiously injesting the swathe of information contained within these pages. It wasn't until he got to the end, though, that the trail became incredibly hot. The researcher responsible for these notes had signed his name: Isaki Kushin. Kotsuko stopped himself, realizing that he'd heard that name before. Getting up and searching through the bookshelves, he found a book of Kumogakure's officials in recent years past. It took him about two minutes to locate the very same name—this man had been the Medical Sennin of Kumogakure, not too long ago. It said that he was the one who formally legalized the learning and registration of Kinjutsu in the village, and was said to have been one of the greatest Kinjutsu Surgeons known to the village. It also mentioned that he'd gone missing a few years ago, for unknown reasons.
Ko put the book back, trembling. Not of fear, or anxiety, but of excitement. He had a grin on his face like none he'd ever had before. This was what he'd been looking for. This was his lead. Isaki Kushin was the man that Kotsuko had to find. He was the one who would be able to lead the young boy to the knowledge he needed. His goal was now to find Kushin, or at least some more of his work. If he found the man, he would have his answers.
Kotsuko snuck the book back into the Protected Records. It really was easy for him to do so, regardless of what he'd said. His abilities made it all too easy. Returning the book, Ko held the one that Kunashi had taken in his hand. He would hold onto this one, for now, in case he needed it later. He may need to plant the evidence at some point in the future, and to do that he'd need it for when the occasion was right. He wasn't beneath framing a friend to defend his own trail. Leaving the library, Kotsuko's path before him was clear. He would seek out the man who knew what he needed. He would find this knowledge, no matter what.
[ooc: topic left]