The First Class of a Better Generation
by Prince





Goro Sroda, Myth Okiyama, Fuwa Amaya, Jhino, Agani Hozuki and Seiga Tomoe would all be Division A, and would all share the same prompter: Shin Uzumaki. Shin acted as the Jounin Commander of Konohagakure and was considered a foremost war hero. Shin was one of the original followers of Sai, the Conqueror during his reign. He betrayed Sai to join the resistance and became one of its leaders, and even an icon to hope for some, despite those who question him. Admittedly, they do so for valid reason. Shin was not only an Elite of the Sai regime, he is the half-nephew of Sai himself and grandson of the man whom Sai took the regime from. Shin is possibly best known as the son of Sai's half-brother, and that has put him into question throughout his life. Regardless, Shin has proven in countless situations where his loyalty resides, thus earning him the right to be prompter for some of the most high-potential shinobi in the village. Division A was set aside for just that; those with the highest potential.

The letter was rather simple. It was sealed, albeit with the gold-leaf seal used by some of the fancier people of the village, but aside from that it was a plain white envelop with a plain piece of paper. Labeled with the name of each person and the signature of Shin himself at the bottom, the letter quickly instructed its reader to meet on Monday by noon at Training Ground 22, known as a taijutsu-oriented training ground, but with a large pavilion which was most likely the purpose of it being chosen for this event. At this point, it was only an hour before each individual should have shown up. Noon was approaching and everyone had been informed. Division A contained twenty-six people of varied rank and skill, and only about eight of them were there waiting. Most notably, Shin wasn't there yet, either.

Much like anything else he had done since becoming a jonin, Goro was persistently careful to look over his orders. Lowering the piece of paper from his eyes, the statue of a man gazed over the training grounds as he shifted some of the tobacco in his cheek slightly. As he had thought, it was the correct time. He confirmed this by glancing up at the sun with one furrowed eye squinting. He raised his right hand over his head with thumb and forefinger in a stretched L-shape. He then counted the hand lengths down until his thumb was even with the horizon.

With a new confidence in his not being late, Goro glanced around quickly as he began walking toward the entrance of training ground twenty-two. After scanning the area and not having any visible witnesses, he cocked his head to the side and let a short jet of coffee-colored saliva shoot from the corner of his mouth. Spitting was rude, but only if it was in front of someone else. Especially a woman or an opponent. There was never and call to be overly crass or rude to anyone. You could just as easily accomplish any task in life with a bit of grace as you could with a mouthful of obnoxiousness.

With dust kicking around his armored legs, Goro glanced in the direction of a few wooden combat dummies in the distance, their torso scarred with the marks of progress. He continued walking, turning his torso to follow his head towards them. Coming to a stop before one of them, a dummy he had trained with previously, Goro ran a rough finger across a deep crack in the center of its chest. A quiet grunt a flicker of a smile announced his slight pleasure to nobody in particular.

It was the small things that you had to appreciate in life. It was a lesson that he intended to teach his pupils along side their standard training. If you never took the time to notice your small achievements, your skill level could very easily plateau and come to a halt. Those small victories and milestones could lead you to a greater strength than you could ever imagine.

Eager to witness fresh new minds growing and branching in power, Goro turned and leaned on the dummy's head with his right elbow, kicking his heel up against the side of his opposite boot, waiting for three new beginnings.

The Chunin was present at the training grounds, however he stood away from the group up high in a tree. His eyes locked and narrowed on those that were beneath him. He was waiting. Watching for when his presence would be required. The only thing on his mind was the letter that he had mysteriously received telling him to come here. At first he was a bit skeptical about going but after thinking it through it could have been a promotion. The risks were too huge thus he came. But so far as he could tell, he wasn't receiving a promotion unless everyone else was. It seemed like everyone had gathered for a slaughter. He was suddenly relieved that he was in the tree instead of gathered with the rest of the masses. It was then that he started thinking, "If this was a slaughter, wouldn't it be more fun to be down there?". He pondered this for a second before deciding to go down.

He kicked off the tree with both speed and power, however, making no sound. The man appeared in the air, slowly gliding through the air while spinning in a corkscrew like motion. He performed a single flip before landing in the training grounds. He looked towards the pavilion before walking towards it. He wore his usual uniform, a sleek black spandex jumpsuit with a matching black helmet. On the top of the helmet was the symbol for Konoha. The only skin showing on him is his mouth and chin. On his back, 2 short swords crossed like an X. Hanging from his side, a single scroll. He silently took up a seat by himself.

He was very curious as to what the purpose they were summoned for was. He could pick out a few familiar faces out of the crowd that had already gathered before. Jhino felt himself to be far superior to them however and couldn't even fathom what they could have in common to be here. He simply waited quietly and patiently while at the back of his mind, he hoped for an ambush of some sort.

Kino spent the last few minutes he had before leaving out with his brother. Of all the people who congratulated him, he knew his brother meant it. Kino strove to be the shinobi he thought his brother could have been, if he wasn't paralyzed. His brother was always strong and smart, and at this point still is the latter, albeit in regular classes. Kino, as he did for most of his life, pushed himself to be good enough for two, and thus far had always received his brother's praise. With that confidence backing him, Kino had no fears regarding who he was set out to meet. He was not to be assigned a Jounin leader, but instead two Chuunin, alongside himself. The idea that he would fight alongside two Chuunin made him believe that his mentors felt he would be a Chuunin soon, or that he didn't need the extra protection. Either way, Kino was set.

In his letter, Kino was given a name and pictures; they were of the two he was instructed to find prior to meeting Shin. They would be his superiors and his team was made given special circumstances, or so said the letter. He knew neither of the people; just that one was an Uchiha and both were Chuunin. Regardless, it took little time for Kino to find at least one of them. Jhino was already in the small crowd, and Kino had no qualms in addressing him. "Jhino! I think that's how you say your name!" Kino half-shouted from behind him. If Jhino were to turn to see or greet Kino, Kino would have retorted with a bow. "I am Utaka Tsukino. Just Kino, tho. I am to be part of your new team."

Amaya had be on time, if a bit later than some of the others. It had been quite the morning at the Fuwa House Hold. Between her most of her family wishing her luck and best wishes and her mother having one of her worst 'episodes' in recent memory it was a wonder she had made it at all really. While she sat among the group it was clear she was sitting 'apart' from them as well. a clear perimeter existed around where she sat. Partially caused by her reputation as...'prickly', and partially because she had arranged it thus. Crowds made her nervous. She grew up around the same 30 people her whole life and they were rarely ever in a group larger than 5 or 6. Getting used to crowded streets and classrooms had proved...challenging. She had made great progress to be sure, but all the same, she preferred a bit of space.

To pass the time, and distract herself from the nagging anxiety of the growing group and the tingling anticipation of this next big step in her shinobi life, quietly doing some work with her medicine kit. She happened across some nice materials out here in training ground 22, and her family had thought her a unstoppable work effort if they had taught her anything. 'Medicines made today would not be wanted tomorrow' mama always used to say. A faint, bitter smile curled her lips. Odd how the most pleasant memories of her mother came from such worst times for the world. She wouldn't be able to complete the recipe out here of course, but she could prep the ingredients and complete the needed step at home much quicker with them already processed.

There were more faces here that she recognized than she had expected there to be, but she had a knack for recognizing people it seemed. New faces stuck out to her quick starkly given her isolated upbringing. She wondered why so many were called to one place after graduation from the academy. She thought squads were supposed to be...smaller than this. This seemed less like the gathering of a rookie ninja squad and more like the formation of a battalion. Though given the militaristic nature of the new ninja academy she guessed she should have been all that surprised by this. Still, the sun was rising higher...whatever they had been gathered here for would be starting soon enough.

Agini stared up at the sky above, his eyes picking out clouds with interesting shapes. It was a nice day today. Agi let out a content sigh and watched the bubble float away, carried downstream slightly from the current before reaching the surface and disappearing. He didn't want to move, it was so nice just laying there beneath the still water. Agi sat up, and water poured off of his body. He should be going soon; he was already late. Agi stood up in the shallow water, and after a short pause to feel the stream flowing against his feet, he was off.

Agi flew, as if shot out of a cannon, from the water. Trees zipped by as momentary blurs before being lost in the speed. One blur had better aim than the others, and Agi slammed into it at full speed, his body splashing apart on impact. Rivulets of water reformed into a boy on the opposite side of the tree, who promptly kicked off from it and resumed his reckless flight.

Agi landed on the roof of the pavilion. He stood up straight, checked how wrinkled his wrinkled clothing was, and stepped of the edge. He landed sitting on a bench directly below. That was convenient. Agi looked around once and didn't see anyone he particularly needed to chat with. This was going to be a waste of time, he thought, yawning wide. Agini Hozuki lay down on the bench on his side and closed his eyes. The sun on his skin didn't feel quite as nice without the water filtering its burning rays, but for now he could put up with it.

Jhino sat watching as more and more people began to arrive. Things were beginning to seem more and more boring. Jhino stood preparing to leave when out of the blue he heard his name being called. He looked around before seeing a boy approaching him. He rose an eyebrow, though it was hidden under his helmet, and made a frown. Jhino slowly moved his hand to grip one of his short swords, prepping himself for combat. Then the boy introduced himself and said they were joining a team together. "Team? The letter didn't say anything about a team." He dropped his hand from his sword and reached into his pocket pulling out the letter.

He scanned the letter several times before letting out a sigh. "I should really read these things more carefully." Jhino looked towards the boy. He crossed his arms and scanned the figure. "Im Jhino. I would say its nice to meet you but you don't seem like much. Don't hold me back or get in my way and we should be fine." Jhino smirked as a smile creped across his face. "If you want to prove your usefulness then go find Agini." He placed a picture on the boys head. It was a picture of Agini that was in his letter.

With that, Jhino returned to his seat. The kid was stronger then he appeared, the fact that he was placed on a squad of Chunin meant he had great potential. The name Agini rang a bell in his head as well. So young and already a chunin, this would be the path that Kino would walk if Jhino could help it. But he digressed in his thoughts and merely waited.

The first observation Kino made as he saw Jhino react was that he reacted defensively to his name simply being called out. It made him wonder if all shinobi seasoned by war would react like this. He recalled that the instructors in his classes often only knew the basics themselves, so thought that these shinobi would be an entirely different breed. It was quite a bit to consider and made him wonder how he should address people in the future. Afterwards, Jhino made a note to quickly reply to him, stating he had no idea he was on a team. Albeit, Jihno quickly affirmed that he was using both of their papers. The thought that he hadn't even fully read the letter wasn't precisely encouraging, but Kino kept in mind that Jhino most likely didn't know that the purpose of this meeting was to assign them their teams.

---

---

Kino could only chuckle upon hearing what Jhino told him. Agini was in plain site atop the roof; Kino had seem him as he entered the pavilion. He had surmised that Jihno must have been at the pavilion for a decent amount of time for him to not have noticed Agini. Kino quickly retorted, "Agini Hozuki, our third team member, is sleeping on the roof. I rarely get in the way. Literally. I fight from a distance and shoot with a bow. Most of the time, it is others who get in my way." Kino then grinned before he jerked his neck to the side, letting it pop a little. He then added, "No one has died from one of my arrows yet... but I also haven't been in combat yet, either."

It took a lot to scare Agini - heck, his dreams would be enough to send seasoned warriors running - but the voice that spoke to him did. I was as if there was a film of strength covering the words, each fell with the echoing force of a drum. What hell had he walked through to come out of the war so hardened? It was so sad. Agi opened his eyes. "Very well," he spoke. Agi then added in a whisper, "But you can't protect another from themselves. I promise nothing."

Agi fell from his resting place and to the ground below. Away from the terrible presence, Agi released his Hiden with a shaky breath. The terrible part was that he doubted it would protect him should that man want him dead. At least now he knew what he was supposed to be doing, since the paper that had had all of that information on it had kind of gotten wet. Kind of gotten very wet. Arms crossed behind his head, Agi walked into the pavilion proper. His eyes picked out his two targets with only a moment's delay. With a sigh, Agi walked over to them.

"Hey-lo," his first word came out more like an articulated sigh than a lazily-spoken word. Agi saw that they had a photo of him. "I guess you already know who I am then, but I'll introduce myself anyway. My name is Agini Hozuki, and it's a... pleasure to meet you." Agi's white robes billowed as he bent in a bow, his mind instantly associating the Uchiha with fire. This would be... interesting.

Scattering loose fallen leaves as she ran, Seiga Tomoe dashes her way tirelessly through the leaf village's crowded streets, basket of bread held protectively in her arms. She runs on the edge of her body's limit, leaping over carts, even running up walls and over rooftops when necessary. She was to deliver this basket of bread to the Akimichi clan house by 11:40, and be at Training Ground 22 by noon sharp. They were nearly at opposite ends of the village, so this would be no easy task, especially with the streets growing more and more crowded by the day. Face pulled into an expression of laser-focused determination, Seiga doesn't falter for an instant when faced with a wall well over thrice her height. She gathers chakra into her feet and leaps forcefully, creating a shock wave of dust and air as she flies through the air gracefully. Landing with a casual twirl, she doesn't stop moving, lunging forth with even more gusto than before. She didn't have enough time, she would have to go even faster if she wanted to make it.

Evening running with such seemingly unmanageable speed, she keeps her eyes and ears open to her surroundings, carefully avoiding villagers and towering piles of building materials with each precarious step. On her way, she briefly hears a few calls of encouragement and greeting from the villagers, but she doesn't stop for even a second to greet them back. She had been a common sight these last few days, sprinting through the streets and jumping from rooftop to rooftop, all to deliver goods from the general store to those at the far reaches of town. Normally, they would have to go and pick them up themselves or bring their patronage to one of the closer shops, but the shop in question prided itself on its timely delivery service. Their reputation wouldn't be slighted while Seiga was on duty, she could see the Akimichi household coming up now. Making one final jump onto their exposed rooftop, the young kunoichi quickly climbs down the side of the building and places the bread into the hands of the customer. With a few parting thanks, she rushes off towards the direction of the training grounds, where she had been summoned to. She wasn't entirely sure about the letter she had received, but it seemed quite important, so she couldn't afford to be late.

She arrives just in time, only breathing a bit heavier than usual as she settles into a brisk walk and stopped near the center of the training ground. Casually searching around the ground, she has to wonder internally if the people she was meeting were actually there. Either way, it would quicken the process if she actively searched for them, so she sets off into the crowd in search of her partners...

As Jhino heard the words he looked up at the roof wondering if the boy was right. Kino continued on and Jhino listened saying nothing in return. It seemed like Jhino hadn't moved at all since sitting down. He was a perfect statue. It was then that their third teammate appeared, dropping from the roof. It was something about him then that seemed as if he had been shocked or stunned. However this was removed just as quickly as he noticed and Agini spoke and introduced himself with a bow. Jhino turned towards him spoke. "Jhino." He then turned his head forward and went back into the statue like state he came from.

In his head he was making various observations of his teammates. Kino was a ranged fighter who used a bow. Agini was a water release user with a special hiden. A smirk crept across his face as he began to speak. "Come, sit with me." He said to both his teammates. "I have a feeling things are going to be starting soon."

Myth Okiyama stood at the entrance to Training Ground 22, shifting his weight between his feet nervously. In his hand was a piece of paper, the letter he had recieved, informing him of his admittance to a squad: Division A. Myth was, however, skeptikal about his alleged admittance. He had only just recently passed the Ninja Academy, and barely at that. At first, Myth thought that the letter was a prank from his sister. He was expecting an ambush. However, he quickly wrote this off. Her sistermhad been gone for two years. She wasn't coming back.

Myth looked up towards the sky. The sun was nearly at it's peak. Almost noon, he thought. Myth took a deep breath and decided to face whatever trap might have been set for him. He stepped inside of the Training Grounds, and headed for the group he had been watching for a couple of minutes. He assumed that the group was Division A. He remembered some of the faces from pictures provided with the letter, but not their names. Instead of introducing himself, Myth preferred to stay quiet. He took his place under a tree, sitting against it. It sure was a nice day.

Myth pulled out a kunai from a back pocket and tried twirling it like a top in the grass. It didn't function very well at all as a toy, and fell after a second. He started thinking about the situation he was in. Here he was, a sub-par Genin in a group of other ninjas of varied skill. All of which seemed to be better than Myth. He reasoned to himself that there was always a last place in everything, but it didn't change his uncomfortability with the situation. The Training Grounds he had heard of. He had heard that this was a Taijutsu facility. Myth remembered studying Taijutsu at the academy. A memory that clearly stuck out was hitting a training dummy in the wrong way and hurting his wrist badly. The memories of the pain made Myth shudder, and he hoped that the day would go by quickly without injury.

It was time...

The wind within the walls of the pavilion had been gentle for the last few hours, docile as were most summer days within Konohagakure. So, when it picked up into ferocious gusts, scattering leaves and tossing around loose articles of clothing, the shinobi within were sure to be on guard. Even if it was a threat, this time, it would likely have not mattered. Atop a small platform, obviously meant for just a single person of imporantance, the wind converged; all gusts pushed debris and leaves to a focal point were they circled around in a small funnel. There, color and shape began to fill the funnel. It was a simple body flicker jutsu variant, as any Jounin most likely would have known, but to the Chuunin and Genin, it would be a site to behold. Shin was playing with theatrics as he made his appearance to Division A, many of whom it was his first time meeting. In doing so, he made it daunting. As was his presence before with Agini, his presence now needed no words. Gusts of wind became shrieks without sound; the wind howled even if it was silent. Shin was intimidating, even if he added nothing.

Shin Uzumaki stood before at least twenty shinobi without a trace of insecurity. He wore traditional battle garb, no green flak jacket. On each shoulder was the symbol for the Uzumaki and the Uchiha respectively, and on his back was a large U, most likely to symbolize each. He held a large blade on his back: the Samehada, although few knew of the blade. He stood with his arms crossed, making his garb more apparent as it was force to adjust to his posture. His right arm lacked armor; instead, it was grey with what appeared to be a hard plate on it that came to a point at his elbow and for anyone observant enough three holds down it. It took time for his full form to be revealed, and when it was, everyone would see the bold Sharingan constantly active in his left eye. Aside from his rather inhuman qualities, Shin was a rather slim individual. In no way would he have been intimidating... if he had appeared to be any regular shinobi.



With that, Shin was gone. No wind. No theatrics. He simply shimmered away. With the exception of the Jounin who may have seen his body flicker, Shin just appeared to vanish. He left with words powerful enough that he needed no exit. In fact, he never needed the entrance, either.

Shiō

She could feel the blood chilling on her hands, excess running down her lower arm as it crept into the gap between her wrist and the surgical gloves. She looked at the young man's face, her eyes trained on his sockets at she stared, hoping to find the humanity one so reliably found in the gaze of another; her hope was crushed as only the shredded sockets remained on his soft face, now caked with streaks of a sickly, dark crimson. No matter how fast she moved through his body, sealing the cuts as best she could, blood flood from every part of his body and her vision continued to blur as his life now pooled beneath her feet. Looking down at the liquid, she could see his memories play out in front of her like a movie, his life flashing before her eyes. Looking one last time at the body on the cold, unforgiving steel of the procedure table in front of her, she screamed, the remnants of his body turning to a pool of blood on her table.

---

Shiō threw her covers back, startling Hiyō who was perched on her open window, eliciting a loud screech from the falcon. She said nothing, rolling off the side of her bed and sliding her feet into the slippers she placed there every night. Rubbing her temples, Shiō sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, trying to collect herself. It'd been a month since she'd had that dream, the longest she'd gone without it; scoffing slightly at herself, she pulled her arms around her chest, shivering as the cold sweat met the cool morning air. Her thin, black shirt did nothing to deter the chill that assaulted her body, most of her skin exposed.

The bed creaked slightly as she rose, grabbing the robe on the hook next to her dark cherry wood dresser and wrapping it swiftly around her body instantly feeling a sensation of warmth. It was very much like her room before the conflict, but lacked many of the worldly possessions she had lost when they had fled Konoha. Grabbing book on the nightstand, she moved downstairs to start her morning routine.

Like almost every morning, Shiō read any medical text she'd managed to find for that week. If she failed at that, she reread one of the hundreds of books that formed her personal library, often with three or four open patient files. She rarely ate in the mornings, only taking a cup or two of an herbal tea, a practice she had adopted from a wandering medic-nin that she had encountered when she was about seventeen. For the three months she was with the woman, they had spent the mornings discussing medicine over the herbal tea. Shiō knew that the books and files were merely a substitute one of the mentors she once had.

---

Following her morning ritual, Shiō would triple check the calendar for the day with Yui at work, as well as get the girl started on the various clerical tasks she really didn't need Shiō's help starting. Shiō considered Yui a gift from some deity, as she completely understood the needs of Shiō's practice and the quirks of her employer - that and her natural ability with paper made her an exceptional assistant.

Her status as a workaholic was legendary and the fact that she had convinced her family, when they had rebuilt their compound, to build her practice attached to her wing of the compound did nothing but encourage the talk. Shiō didn't mind, honestly taking a somewhat perverse sense of pride in it. Work dictated her mind be in the present, not wandering through her past as it too often enjoyed at night, so when she wasn't schedule to work - Shiō would go out and find some.

The Nara compound itself was a rather impressive rebuild. Fortunate to have her family make it through the throes of war, it was easier for her than most to rebuild a semblance of the life they once had - including the physical compound. The outer walls were a split of dark wood at the base and white coated upper walls. All of the doors slid, the interior doors often rice paper embedded into wooden frames, mirroring the outside for the walls on the inside as well. The complex itself took up a relatively impressive amount of land, given it was near the heart of Konohagakure, sprawling outwards around an interior courtyard and a small patch of land to a wooded area in the back. Technically they 'owned' the woods as well, but it was never enforced and many operated under the perception of public ownership, which her family really had no objection.

The roof tiling is what had taken the longest. It was a painstaking process. Most of it had been done by a mix of her brother, Kaku, and her grandmother of all people. The two had more time to spend working on details like this, one by one putting on a slate grey-blue tile onto the roof. Under a number of the eaves was the symbol for their clan, carved from a cherrywood and stained a dark, rich stain, and finished with a touch of gold lacquer. It was a bit ostentatious, but it was tradition.

The interior was largely open, with only a few truly separate rooms, mostly for sleeping and primarily on the upper levels. Kitchen and living areas ran together and were the areas their family would get together, although each one had separate areas for them to prepare their own food, typically in the mornings should they so choose. Tuesdays it was customary for them to have dinner in the common dining area. Shiō had been reluctant to restart the tradition when they returned to Konoha, but her mother kept pressing the issue until she gave in. Aside from Tuesdays, Shiō didn't often see her family, preferring to stay her own section of the compound.

It was a light day for Shiō, only three scheduled appointments, all early morning. She smiled at it, finally breaking the four hour morning silence to speak with Yui, although, words were not needed to be said.

"I'll be out back if there is an emergency."

Yui, as always, would nod. It was commonplace for Shiō to spend her off-time during the day out back. On the rare instances an emergency surgery would be needed, Shiō could easily be called back in.

"I should be done by noon."

Shiō typically vocalized her predicted schedule to Yui, although, at this point, the girl had a better idea of how long Shiō's appointments would take than Shiō did herself. As predicted, at noon Shiō had finished her last patient, an 62 year-old, 130 pound, 5'3" female with three children and a history of hypertension. The check-up only confirmed what Shiō had told the woman last time - that she needed to monitor her stress levels.

---

The midday sun was uncharacteristically warm. Stripping off her jacket, she folded it neatly on the porch bench. She stretched, raising her arms up and twisting her neck before stepping out from the shade; the heat blasted her, but she relished it, striding towards, with a vigorous step, the practice dummy she had her brother construct months ago. Since returning to Konoha, she hadn't gotten to break it in quite as well as she would have liked. Her last one, something she had constructed from an assortment of materials during the resistance had been burned when she left that life. She had watched it, hoping to burn away many of the memory from that time as well.

While she was no taijutsu specialist, her training as a medic-nin dictated a certain necessity to be able to defend oneself at close combat. Kaku, her brother, had designed it to randomly pivot when she struck another portion of it, splitting the dummy into sections similar to the strike angles of another fighter. Various knobs were on the back, which she twisted to alter the settings to avoid letting the muscle memory kick in. She'd gain nothing if she knew all of the responses from her last session.

She quickly kicked at it with her right foot, sweeping under a peg jutting out from the lower third of the dummy. It met the would with a solid crack, the top portion of the dummy twisting from her right rapidly. Most instincts would be to block the peg, but she knew to wait the fraction of the moment, predicting the feint correctly, a left peg now incoming to to her head. Shiō thrust her right palm at the core, using her left to strike out at the assaulting peg's base, stopping the twist of the upper section of the dummy.

The dummy wasn't solely for practice, but to ensure her mind didn't wander when she had control. Like her work, she had to focus on the present, else get a smart shot to her body from an object with literally zero intelligence - which would be a massive blow to anyone's ego. Not wanting to let her body get bruised twice, she focused hard, continuing her practice with the dummy for an hour before collapsing onto the ground with sweat running down her body. She had the stamina to continue, but she had gotten what she had wanted out of the exorcise.

It was routine for Shiō to spend her afternoon's like this, providing she wasn't in surgery, which was rarer and rarer. However the dummy wasn't the only thing she practiced during these afternoons.

After a short break, Yui bringing out a cold glass of water for her to drink, she began her real practice. Shiō had always had exceptional control, far surpassing that of her brother, but she had never been able to utilizing Kage Yose, a staple in her clan. She'd developed a work around technique, a sort of variation of the technique from having watched her brother, suiting the needs she had during the resistance. Her goal was still the same; to learn Kage Yose, or at least adapt her technique to her high standards. She had tried for the last three months with little improvement, incensing her.

Extending her shadow outwards, she pushed her Kage no Te to the three feet mark, letting her hands glow a soft, pale green. Shosen was difficult enough on its own, but adding in her Kage no Te was rather remarkable - but it wasn't enough. She wanted, needed, Kage no Te to extend past that three foot mark. Her hands still alight, she pushed the shadow out further, her body shaking instantly in response, the glow from her Shosen instantly vanishing as she expelled the contents of her lunch of the soft grass below her - some catching in her hair as it fell in front of her face as she slumped over.

Once the nausea passed, she let out a string of profanity under her breath, mostly at herself for her incompetence. Trying again, she was met with similar results. Like always, Yui watching with concern from the window, Hiyō likewise from the roof, she would continue on for the next couple of hours before exhausting herself. Drenched in a mix of sweat, vomit, and pitchers of water, Shiō collapsed on the porch, her back against the shaded, cool wood, hidden from the afternoon sun.

This was Shiō's life.

Shin Uzumaki. Truly a stark and terrifying presence. It had caused Goro to swallow the tobacco in his mouth, the tingling and burning sensation sliding down into his stomach and joining the feeling of awe that swirled there. While he may have made his appearance one of power and ability mostly for the sake of the young ones, it was the legend that preceded him that caused Goro to stand at attention. The raw power that must have resided inside him in his youth, now refined into a earth-shaking strength that Goro hoped to achieve himself.

Just as Shin vanished, so too die Goro depart from where he stood. Moving just to the outskirts of the group of shinobi who had just witnessed Shin's commands, he placed his wrapped right arm on his hip, his eyes flashing over the group to single out his pupils.

Myth Okiyama. Goro's eyes landed on him for a moment. He hadn't been made aware of anything spectacular about the boy. Kind of frail and skittish, something Goro found himself disliking more than he should. Still, he wasn't here to have an opinion on these sapling shinobi, he was here to ensure they grew and rooted themselves deep into their potential. He would make sure Myth got whatever kind of training he needed to become steadfast and sturdy.

Amaya Fuwa. Those eyes. That hair. It was almost unmistakable. Although Goro had always been careful when listening to tales of grandeur, he knew of the Red Eyed Reaper; A swordsman, medical nin, and resistance fighter. Someone that Goro would have been proud to be the descendant of. Amaya didn't seem to be the overly enthusiastic or proud type, however. It caused Goro to wonder what kind of hollow had formed inside of her after her father had not returned from conflict. If there was rage to be harnessed, then there was fuel ripe for burning the fires of combat.

Seiga Tomoe. Another war orphan. Though what made her situation so troubling was that she was orphaned after the fact. She had promise of living in a time without worry and despair and that promise was ripped from her hands. Goro had known her parents, if only in passing and name. They had done well to raise their daughter, and he had heard word of her being trained from a very young age. While Goro wasn't keen on forcing someone's fate from such an early age, he knew that this meant he would have no problem defining and sharpening the skills ingrained into her by her parents. Goro was honored to have such a duty.

Shoving his hands into the zippered pockets of his flak jacket, Goro proceeded to take initiative by stepping before the group slightly. "Fuwa. Tomoe. Okiyama." Was all that came from his mouth, followed by his hand beckoning towards himself. Prior to their assembly, Goro stuck the opposite hand into his satchel, his fingers grasping a short plug of tobacco and shoving it into his cheek as he waited patiently.

Kirugetsu Hozuki. Formerly a 7 million Ryo bounty in Konohagakure for killing the head of the Hyuga Clan, Hirotaka Hyuga... was now not only welcomed in the Village, but a war hero to the people and a new squad leader for the Genin fresh out of the Academy. ""First day of a new squad. I remember my old kids. Wonder if they're even still alive." Last time he took on a squad to teach, there was a war shortly after. As much as part of him reveled in the combat, he knew he was past his prime by this point. By no means was he old and feeble, of course... but the days of him fighting tirelessly for hours were just about done. Maybe sometime before the end he could have his last great fight... a battle to end all battles for the Hozuki Jounin.

Meandering around the town as he stayed enthralled by the thoughts of his past... through sheer muscle memory at this point, he managed to walk to the seafood stall in the market. Brought back to reality by the pungent and salty scent of fish and seafood, Kirugetsu took a small pouch of money out of his pocket. "Got any crab today, Mister Futaka?" The middle-aged man nodded and handed Kirugetsu a small plastic bucket of small fresh-water crabs, and was handed some money in return. Kirugetsu smiled cheerfully, his shark-toothed grin (a blatant symbol of his former status in Kirigakure) caused the fishmonger to take a step or two back. Though he was a frequent customer, the shark-like teeth still made the man feel uneasy.

Reaching into the bucket as he walked toward Training Field 22, Kirugetsu was pinched by one of the tiny crustaceans. The attack was quickly responded to, as the Hozuki crunched the little morsel's shell in his grip and killed it. He then proceeded to eat it in a manner most would find sickening... by chomping the shell, sucking out the insides, chowing down on the pincers and legs, and pretty much devouring the entire animal. The process would be repeated several times as he waited for his squad. Currently, he was the only one who was unsure of his team's makeup. Only one member was certain, and that was a young Inuzuka girl, who like many of the new graduates, had suffered from a rough childhood thanks to Sai's reign.

"But how to start all this off?" grumbled the man as he absentmindedly chewed on a fragment of carapace left over from the last of the tasty treats he brought with him. Some teachers liked to test the kids against their own skills, others pitted them against each other, and still others made it a contest. In the past, Kirugetsu had chosen the second option, and set his students against one another in a bid to forge some friendly rivalry between them. This time should be different, he reasoned. But the other options did the same basic things, really. So how exactly to circumvent that? Eh, it didn't matter right now because his squad wasn't even here yet. Those chosen would likely have gotten their messages by now, so all that was left was to wait.

Waiting still wasn't his strong suit, but he could manage to chill out and enjoy the sights and sounds of the Training Areas for a while.

Shisen woke up a second later than she normally did, looking around disorientated, this was room different and it wasn't home. Like always, she never realized where she was until a few moments after her eyes opened, it was how it worked in the morning as sleep seemed to take everything away and she would wake up only to find her dreams of her parents being alive, only a dream. There was a small whine coming from the right side of the bed, with a smile she got up and went over to pet Arashi who gave an appreciative bark before laying down, allowing Shisen to get dressed. Dressing in her black pants that easily allowed swift movement and her white almost cream colored shirt, the last item was a thick fur jacket that her mother used to wear.

She put the leaf headband on last, it was what marked as a full fletched Genin now, no longer an Academy student and not a poor little girl, a Genin. The red ink that she mixed to put the fang markings on her cheeks, the mark of the Inuzuka, she felt proud to wear them, proud that she carried the pride of the Inuzuka with her. "We made to a Genin, Arashi" Shisen said calmly staring at the reflexion of herself like she almost didn't recognize who she was anymore, was she any different? Shaking her head as she turned with Arashi on her heels out of her room, this room not her room, leaving the room and into the main part of her house. "Bye" Shisen said to them, leaving this house. Never once did she call either of them mother or father, she would never accept them as either.

"Arashi, are you ready for this?" Shisen asked her Niken. A small smile formed on her lips, she remembered when she met Arashi, everyone said that she was dangerous and out of control, but not her. Shisen knew from the start that they would work perfectly and they had. The day Arashi accepted her was the day that her parents died, a bitter way to mark such a sweet memory and a sweet way to mark such a bitter memory as well.

Looking around, she noticed how the common people stayed far them, afraid of Arashi and she heard the whispers. Horrible cruel whispers about her Niken, her fist clenched as she walked because it wasn't fair that they thought such horrible things about Arashi, it wasn't. Yes, her Niken was half wolf but she was as loyal and strong as the other Niken in the kennls, why didn't they understand that?

A few moments later, she arrived at the training field that she caught the tail end of the speech from Shin, her fist unclenching before clenching again, they had to be in teams? She listened for her name and found it among others, with a sigh she turned to head to where her mentor, a Jounin was waiting for his team. Another moment later, she was at the designated training field, her eyes drawn to the man that was to teach her. Arashi let out a growl, one of discomfort and uncertainty, neither really liked the idea of being in a team.

"Haha! That all you got? Can't believe they made someone as weak as you a Genin!" Laughter followed the explanative. In the middle of a crowd of three teenage boys was a younger teenage boy that was on his knees on the ground coughing up the air that was kicked out of him. The three teenage boys were ninja, all the same as the younger one on the ground, however they were Chuunin ninja. They'd already graduated two years ago and were as close as a waste caked on a dumpster. They were always seen together. Kururu Xaisho, Kazuya Youtenshi and Katou Zangetsuhou. They were fairly skilled trackers, probably some of the most skilled in that area when it came to Chuunin, and they were mostly adored ninja. They graduated early and were promoted early and they were extremely patriotic, thus the situation.

The three ninja didn't like certain other types of people. They didn't like people like Shin Uzumaki, the spawn of Sai, simply because he was related to the very bastard that ruined their lives. As such, they also didn't like people like Taiho Suzuna, whom came from two generations of men that worked for Sai. They terrorized the boy constantly and today was specatucaly special, because today was the day that the pitiful offspring of the late Iron Dragon was promoted into a Genin of Konohagakure. They felt that they had to be some of the first to offer him his congratulatory gift. They were even generous enough to offer the gift in the middle of the market place, in front of plenty of people that weren't ashamed to turn a blind eye to the squabble.

"Come on, that all you got, scum?" Kazuya, the leader of the group, would crouch down to Taiho's level as he asked the question. He looked at his hand and waved around the shiny little headband he managed to take from the kid, "You don't even deserve this...Someone like you is better off doing some tree cutting or something. Something someone as stupid as you could manage," Kazuya would say, which his two buddies would find absolutely hilarious and would cackle and holler as if it were the greatest joke they'd ever heard in their life.

"Technically..." Taiho started, managing to catch his breath. Kazuya looked at the boy intently, curious as to what he'd say. Taiho spoke in his usual slow tone. His voice was never rushed or raised and was as devoid of any energy or motivation, "I scored higher on my tests than all three of you combined..." Which was true, because Taiho scored at one of the highest levels in his class. He wasn't a graduate for just any reason. He studied and did all the required work and excelled. His marksman scores were higher than all three of them as well.

Kazuya took a moment to register the information, which made his two friends a little nervous.
Kazuya was quick to stand and kick Taiho right in the face.

"Well, bastard!" Kazuya would say, a frustrated smile spreading on his face, "I didn't even try on those damn tests! There's no way a disgusting retard like you would do better than me! Someone from a cursed family like yours couldn't be better than me!" Kazuya would exclaim, stomping clean on Taiho's stomach. Taiho let out a painful gasp but it was muffled by yet another kick to the face. Taiho rolled to his side as he held his face. The pain was excruciating. It was hot and mind numbing and the kick had been hard enough to make him feel slightly lightheaded and dazed. Despite the hazy feeling the painful throbbing didn't vanish or dissipate. It hurt.

"H-Hey, Kazuya! People are still watching..." Kururu whispered, motioning his head towards the spectators, whom still didn't bother to interfere. At this point, even if they did want too, the boys were ninja. It wouldn't turn out well for them.

"What-the-hell-ever!" Kazuya exclaimed, punching Kururu in the face, "Forget this punk! He's shit! Garbage! He's the reason that-" Kazuya stopped himself. There was no way he was going to get emotional in front of his team. He wouldn't lose face because of some bastard brat Genin pissed him off. He wouldn't mention how it was Taiho's family that killed off his own. No. He wouldn't do that. Even if everyone, excluding Taiho himself, knew it.

"Forget it!" Kazuya would say, chucking Taiho's brand new headband. It landed in a muddy puddle beside some store, "I have to get to the Training Field anyway. I'm not gonna waste anymore time on this loser," Kazuya would say, kicking dirt at Taiho, whom was still holding his face. Katou would help Kururu as Kazuya stormed off. The two followers would be after Kazuya in a second. They also needed to get to the training fields.

As was normal, no one came to help Taiho.
There were more than a few people that felt the same about the boy. His family caused a lot of suffering. His father killed many and his grandfather killed many more. Even those that held some sympathy for the kid didn't come to help him, because they didn't want to be the ones associating with the kid from that lineage. They didn't want to be connected to Taiho, the cursed boy. There were more than a few that had suffered directly from the hands of a Suzuna and that bore a festering grudge that couldn't be put aside even for the boy that did nothing.

So, like normal, when the pain started to die down, Taiho picked himself up. His face was bruised, like he'd been hit with a baseball bat, and his clothes were dirty. He looked like he'd been in a fight and all the spectators would righteously claim that Taiho was the aggressor and instigator. It was normal for the orphan to be subject to the hatred of the people here and it was normal for his being bullied by Kazuya. Still, even with his chest, back, belly and face pounding with residual pain, he calmly walked over to his headband, tears falling down out of instinct. He wasn't crying. Taiho never felt the need to cry. It would be better to say that the boy lacked the capacity to cry. The tears that fell were simply out of reflex from the excruciating pain running through his body and that was all.

Taiho picked up his headband, the brand new band dirtied, and he pocketed it. He wiped his face with his sleeve and headed to the training field. Although Kazuya managed to get Taiho's letter, and preemptively burn it, before he had a chance to read it Taiho already knew where the meeting place would be. It was lucky that he was observant, else he would most likely have had to ask one of the instructors.

Today had been a fairly normal day:
He had to skip out on breakfast, because there wasn't any.
He was teased by Shuuha Yamanaka, a beautiful kunoichi that graduated with the last class. She really didn't like him and made sure to ensure that other girls didn't either.
He went to the academy, it was graduation day, and sat in his usual place at the back without talking or participating. He really only participated when asked, but he was always attentive.
During break he was teased by Zuto Sarutobi, an instructor actually. He didn't like Taiho either, but he was usually more reserved than the students.
After the graduation Taiho was given his headband and letter.
It was when Taiho left the academy that he bumped into Kazuya and his two followers. After taking his money, letter and headband Kazuya went through the usual motions of taking his frustrations out on Taiho.

Wouldn't be any breakfast tomorrow, apparently.

This was the usual for Taiho. If it wasn't Kazuya it was someone else, and for the days that he wasn't bothered he was avoided. People really didn't care for him. But he didn't mind it. His entire life had been that way, but he wasn't worried about it. He didn't have many worries in life. He was always emotionless and unreacting. The teasing and the fighting and all the pain didn't upset him or frustrate him. Instead, Taiho was his usual apathetic. He was unphased by how he was treated, the misfortunes he endured, and, at the sametime, he didn't really care about what others thought of him. The moments he interacted with others just passed by him and, the moment they were out of sight, he was no longer even focused on them or what they had done.

Now was just meeting his teacher.
Off to the training grounds.

---

Kirugetsu Hozuki.
Taiho knew a little about the history of this ninja, but nothing spectacular. Taiho did know that Kirugetsu, at sometime, killed someone important, but he wasn't aware of any specifics, nor did he care to inquire. Taiho only studied things related to the academy, which were necessary for graduation, so he wasn't really familiar with things like the biographies of popular ninja. There was another beside him, Shisen Inuzuka. She was apart of his class. Taiho looked at the two only for a moment, noticing that everyone else was already grouped into teams. He'd missed the entire announcement by Shin Uzumaki, thus was somewhat at a loss of what to do or where to go. He wasn't sure of his team assignment because, unfortunately, his letter, which may have held such crucial information, had been burned by a senpai.

Taiho was pretty late. He'd had a full hour just to reach the training grounds, yet he was almost 20 minutes tardy. It wasn't unusual for him to be late. Many of the instructors assumed he had a terrible attendance, actually, but it was only due to Kazuya's interference usually. Taiho wasn't the sort to be distracted by anything, thus he was typically at least on track to be on time. This wouldn't be the first time he showed up looking a little abused either. If he actually had parents some would probably question his upbringing...But everyone just assumed he did something to ask for the bruising. He was a troublemaker, after all. He would have a reputation as one too. He had one before the academy and, when he decided to enlist into the academy, his reputation as a terrible person only seemed to expand. He was a no-good, deceitful, rambunctious, insulting, ignorant, arrogant child that came from an equally as evil family. No one wanted to be around such a terrible child and it was assumed that was due to good reason.

Still, being this late was not a good first impression, but he wasn't worried about that. He was never worried about the interruptions he caused or the assumptions people made of him. He was only here because he needed to be here, not to try and show off or come off as impressive. Reguardless, he was scruffed up, which his face looking so swollen that his eye looked as if it were half opened. If anything, the beaten up Genin was all the more unimpressive. Any instructor that saw their student in that state was bound to be disappointed. They'd gotten a weak, spineless student that couldn't even take care of himself.

The boy didn't groan or complain. He looked strangely calm. Almost too calm for a boy with a face that looked like that. You'd expect a little misery or anger or hesitancy from someone that'd went through that sort of beating, but Taiho was uncaring of his own injuries and casually looked around the training field, avoiding eye contact with the others that were there. He was closest to Kirugetsu and Shisen, unaware that he'd coincidentally stumbled upon individuals that would be waiting for him.

"..." Taiho wasn't entirely sure how to approach the situation, nor was he going to approach the others close by for information. He just looked around, searching for anyone that looked as if they may be searching for him. He was about to take a step away, wanting to go more to the center of the training field. If Kirugetsu or Taiho's teammates said nothing he would do just that.

Maruki yawned as he woke up quite late that particular day. He got out of bed and made it before stepping outside on the porch. As soon as he shoved open the door he shocked wide awake. The sun was up way higher then he thought he would be, a measured the time real quick and ran back into his room, took out the letter and read the message again. Crap! He was really late. Maruki got dressed real quick and ran out of the manor, "Maruki-sama! Where are you going!" called his uncle out to him "got to go!" called Maruki back "I am going to meet my team!" One of his little cousins ran up to him, "You forgot this Maruki Onii-sama" and handed him his headband "Thank you" said Maruki and ran off waving to his little cousins and uncle. Maruki ran as fast as he could while binding the headband around his forehead. He ran up a building set off at high speed.

Jumping through the woods to the designated training ground he wished he just didn't miss too much. The letter was not very revealing to say the least. He thought about the possible Jounin to be assigned team leader and about his possible teammates from his class. Not paying attention Maruki almost slammed into a tree, a last second Palm thrust saved his skin but killed his momentum. Maruki got down on the ground, completely disorientated. "Byakugan!" Maruki scouted around and noticed three, no four chakra signatures not all to far away from him. One did not seem human though.

Jumping out of the protection from the bushes Maruki. There was one older man among them, that should be his commanding Jounin. He noticed a big who looked beaten up. He was in the same class as Maruki, what was his name again? Te- Ti- Tai? Ah whatever, he never had a lot of contact with him. The last person was an Inuzuka girl from around his age, he recognized her from the markings on her cheeks, she was kinda cute. Looking down trying to find her pet he saw... was that a wolf? Maruki has met with wolves before when he still lived in the woods. Wolfs were social creatures and he always held an admiration for them. He kept out oh their territory and they kept away from the cabin he lived in. He liked the wolves.

When he got closer he saw that the Inuzuka's pet was not really a wolf, or at least not a full blood. He also noted that every single one of the group was intensely looking at him. Maruki suddenly realized that they were all waiting on him. he grinned sheepishly when he came to a halt "hehe, nice to meet you" Maruki wore his long white traditional Hyūga gown with under it the standard netting training clothing. "sorry for being late, I overslept" looking to his left he saw the boy "jeez, you're pretty beaten up, what the hell happened to you" then the girl "Maruki Hyūga nice to meet you" he pointed at Niken "and who's that?" he smiled as nicely as he could and then turned to the Jounin. he coughed "my excuses again, now, what is going to happen?"

Sleep no longer came easily to Hataga, Shira. Not so soon after the war, at least. Each night as she tried to drift off into slumber she could feel something pulling at the back of her mind, a voice that called out to her in ways she couldn't even begin to understand. It was as if she was stood on one side of a vast cavern, filled with the sounds of battle and murder and bloodshed and war, and she shouted across it to some being that may not have even existed. If they did, and if they did speak back, Shira didn't understand. She never had. All she had heard for the past three years was her voice calling back to her, distorted by the clashing of blades that rang out from below in a bloody cacophony. Parts of her still wondered, deep in the back of her mind, if she should have died all that time ago. She had expected it to happen - made her preparations, made her last vows, and said the words that the Manuscripts had told her to say. She tried to say them again every night in her dreams, but each time she got past the second or third - maybe even fourth - word it felt as if her throat was fighting a battle it couldn't win and no more sound escaped. Parts of her wished that the battle would consume her too, but still she persisted. Areshiki's legacy had been one of almost impossible luck, surviving against all the odds, and it was the only thing she wished she hadn't inherited. Each night, the din beneath her got louder and the cliff face less stable. Some nights, she could peer over the edge and look deep into throes of war beneath her. Sometimes she saw herself and the others fighting against Sai's regime. Sometimes she saw other people whose names she had long forgotten, but whose faces and blood she could not. It depended on the night. Sometimes she couldn't sleep at all, and the dream didn't come to haunt her. Those nights were the hardest.

More than anything else in the world, Shira longed for the din below to fill her ears and drown her aching consciousness. She wanted to dive back in to the war, she wanted to fight until the very end. The actual end. She wanted to say the words again so she could do it right - she wanted to ask them to watch over and fight with her until she could fight no more, until every drop of will had been drained from her body and she could finally die a hero. She wasn't sure that she wanted to die, some nights. She just wanted to be down there again, to truly feel alive in the only way that she knew how before she let herself be taken. But those were the good nights, and those had been far too few as she faced the prospect of graduation. Somehow, it was as if she just couldn't let herself be happy - she couldn't let herself rest and recuperate. Deep down, she knew that she was killing herself slowly, and she could only stand back and wait for it to happen, like sitting in front of a clock and watching it tick down to the end. It would have been so easy for her to change her life, to accept being a ninja that wanted to live and protect her village, but as she thought about it, she felt herself unable to move. She saw the canyon in front of her once more, calling out to her, and she could do nothing but stand there and look at it. She struggled against the inescapable bonds of her own self destruction, she writhed about and thrashed and screamed and tore at herself, but nothing seemed to work. Nothing could free her from the destiny that she was imposing on herself, and she hated every second of it. She hated that she was faced with an opponent she could not fight and win. More than that, she hated that she could not fight herself and lose.

She looked out again, over the canyon, and saw the fires of war rage on ever more, burning with such an intensity that the heat began to well up inside her as if urging her forwards to add to the flames below. She fell forwards, despite her bonds, and before she could gasp out she was falling through the air, her eyes wide with the elation at getting to join the fight at long last. Three years of waiting, three years of dreaming, and crying, and praying to each and every one of the Warbringers that she could finally join them in whatever afterlife there may have been... But before she could hit the ground, she jolted upwards, awake. Beads of cold sweat poured down her forehead and met her tears at her cheeks, cradling her face in the delicate embrace of self pity. Her voice choked out, as if she had wanted to cry but failed, and she slammed herself backwards into the uncomfortable bed that she had slept in every night since the war. Waking up had been like this almost every day for the past three years, but there was one key difference this morning: She had finally let herself cry.

Shira took a few minutes to stop herself, before her instincts kicked in and she stood up to get herself ready for the day. She checked the clock, like every day she woke up like this, and saw it pass over the threshold from 4:59 to 5am - just like every other morning. Shira's routine had remained the same since the first time Bujin, the leader of the clan, had punished her for her disobedience. Thinking about it brought back bittersweet memories - she remembered the pain of his lessons and the joy of success, and she remembered how happy her parents were after the first time she held a flag... It was almost enough sentiment to disrupt her routine. Like every day, she cleaned herself and dressed herself by 5:30am, and took Unmei no Chikara to the training grounds for half an hour to help prepare for the day. The weapon as only about a foot shorter than she was, and despite her years of practice they were nothing compared to actually training to use the weapon as, well, a weapon. She'd trained with it as an ornament for years, and though the weight was familiar as she gripped the blade, actually swinging it still took quite a bit out of her. She'd been practicing more and more over the years, but she was still very far from being skilled with it. War had been different, as if her ancestors were actually guiding the weapon, but every time she tried to enter into the state she'd managed to get into during the war she found herself completely unable. At that point, Shira didn't know what depressed her more - that she was still useless after all of her training, or that she tapped into power that kept her alive when she wanted most to die.

The weight of Unmei no Chikara was something that she had never managed to get used to, even after all those years holding the weapon that had fallen into her hands. Holding it felt almost as if she was taking her own fate into her hands - fitting, given the name of the weapon - and it terrified her beyond belief. More than that, though, it made her realise that the only enemy that she would face as a Genin was herself. Still, despite the grasp of the inescapable nature of fate, it felt good to hold the weapon in her hands. It felt like it fit her, like it was made for her, and that it would be what lead her into war again. Perhaps, if her destiny so willed it, it would. It was still difficult to hold a weapon knowing that no battle was nearby, that she wouldn't truly be fighting, but nobody understood that more than her mentor: Warbringer Bujin, Master of the Blade. He was one of the few that had managed to survive the war - which was hardly a surprise - but it had left him scarred for life. Bujin had lost too much blood in his left leg after a particularly brutal ambush in the war, and as a result had had to have it amputated at the knee - it was something that he had let happen, much to the surprise of the clan, because he had felt that the loss of his leg was death enough to appease the vow he made as he entered the battle. Even injured, his stance was imposing and his visage the very epitome of discipline, and it brought a love and respect to Shira's heart that she could not deny. Shira had loved Bujin more than her mother and father for a very long time, especially after they had defected, and he had been the only guiding force in her life for as long as she could remember. Even to this day, he looked after her training as if she were still no more than a small child, disobedient and filled with the curiosity of youth before battle. It was a time that, in truth, they both missed to a degree. A small degree, but a degree nonetheless.

"Today, you join the ranks of the Genin, Shira. You will be the first Hataga - and the first Warbringer - to ever pay heed to a regime that is not a life of war. I do not know if I can congratulate you for your choice, but I know that it was the correct choice for you to make."

Shira stood, saluted, and nodded gravely at her mentor's words. Total obedience had been programmed into her from a young age, and while it was significantly less evident with authority figures outside of the clan, and even members of the clan that were not Bujin, the fact that it was her father-figure stood before her put her into a state of obedience that only war could breed. It was a terrifying thought to consider the morality of such a display, but for one who was programmed to obey unconditionally the ability to ruminate upon the delicate state of affairs that was morality was... Perhaps hindered more than the average person's.

"I seek only your blessing, Bujin-san." The tone was formal, respectful, and carried no hint of trepidation. It was as if, when speaking to her mentor, Shira completely forgot about the issues that plagued her waking mind - as if she tapped into a part of her mind unsullied by the introduction of true war. It was if a tiny remnant of the old Shira still lived within her, and that was, quite possibly, the saddest thought of them all.

"You have it. Now go, and bring honour to the Hataga. May all who preside over war be your vanguard, Shira."

"And to you, Bujin-san."

For any normal pair of people, it would have been an emotional affair. For Bujin and Shira it was merely another formality, another stop on the journey to their next battle. Neither of them knew if they would ever fight together again, or if they would even see true war again... But destiny worked in ways that even the most knowledgable of people could not understand, never mind a flag bearer and the incapacitated veteran of a war. Destiny was not Shira's to question. It was only hers to follow, and follow she would. It was all she knew how to do in the world.

And so, as Shira left the home of the Hataga clan relocated to Konohagakure, she felt nothing. Not at least until she was in the streets, with real people, and she had to interact a world that she was completely and utterly unfamiliar with - terrified, even. Without the firm leadership of Bujin, Shira was prone to falling apart easily and losing direction, losing focus. It was something that she had wanted to work on, something that she'd desperately tried to stop herself from doing... But the life of a soldier had taught her that she must always serve till the day she died in battle. Before, she had served by obeying Bujin and fighting Sai's regime. Now, she obeyed by following the commands of her superiors as a Shinobi... Or, at least, she would have done were she not ambushed by an elderly woman trying to carry too many goods from a warehouse to a nearby store.

"Oh, excuse me, young miss... Could you help me move these apples? It wo-"

"Yes ma'am! Just let me know what to move and where to move them, Ma'am!"

It was going to be a long day for somebody who was systematically programmed to obey authority figures - especially when that somebody considered everyone older than them an authority figure. It was fine to help, for now... Shira had six hours to burn before she would be required to report to her new superiors.