Yuji waited outside the western wall for his cousin. The pair had been tasked by the village - at the clan's request - to continue the search for any Fukusha who had been lost during the night they were attacked by Iwagakure. The Fukusha had left his Iwagakure Flak vest at home today, it was not the occasion to be wearing it. The sun beat down upon the Shinan valley cooking the very stones of Iwa. Yuji felt in his element having originated from the Kosshi Desert like the rest of his clan. Although it had been roughly ten years since the clan had settled into the village the clan elders had not given up on those who could still be out there. The village was no longer willing to commit too many resources to the search beyond sending out Fukusha they could spare to search on occasion.
Truth be told Yuji hadn't interacted much with his cousin since the academy. Just what had Kumori been up to as of late. Yuji had become so busy since Kotaru took him in as a student their training had only increased in intensity with each passing day. Thoughts of Kumori brought back memories of Uncle Kazuki and with it saddness. He recalled his uncle's reading lessons, Kazuki was a very strict teacher. Yuji sighed a little as he pushed dwelling on the past out of his mind, they had a mission to perform today.
The large smooth stone of Iwagakure's wall began to open up as Doton users created an opening to allow traffic through. A series of trading carts bound for capital left the large opening, they seemed like a simple folk. An old wagon clattered along the stones and onto the dirt road leading away from Iwagakure. The Fukusha looked to see if Kumori had arrived with this latest batch through the gates. He wondered if he would even recognise his cousin by sight, surely not that much could have changed? Yuji had grown significantly himself over the past few years, although that seemed to be coming to an end.
Locating the lost.
Locating the lost.
| Active Characters | |||
|---|---|---|---|
| Name | Rank | Village | Organization |
| Sun ☽ Ichi | C-Rank | Dungeon Country | N/A |
Fukusha  Yuji | Genin | Iwagakure No Sato | N/a |
Locating the lost.
Out of character for Kumori, he was running slightly late. He hadn’t had much time to prepare, just recently being informed that he was to accompany his cousin on a mission sanctioned by Iwagakure. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the mission to be quite honest. Even though it was requested by his clan, it felt strange. Leaving the village to go look for any other members of the clan that may still be out there. As he made his way to the western wall to exit the village, the attack on his clan replayed over and over. He was an orphan, and old enough to have memories of his parents. It was his father’s dying wish for the remainder of the clan to accept a peace agreement and serve Iwagakure. Even though he obliged, without much of a choice that is, he still loathed the village internally for taking away his parents.
Kumori’s cousin, Yuji, was the son of their clan’s leader. Kumori appreciated everything his uncle had done for him, being the one who fastened his forehead protector into place upon graduating the academy. Thinking about the academy, he believed that was the last time he saw or at least really interacted with Yuji. He remembered his father training the younger Fukusha during their nomadic times. Uneasy feelings kept sweeping over him as he approached the wall. He wasn’t sure what they would encounter, and he wasn’t sure how he’d feel if they even found long lost clansman. Would they even want to join the village after being away for so long? On the outside he was calm, cool, and collected. Composed, as he was taught to carry himself. On the inside he felt numb and empty. Even though his father was the one who made the decisions that ultimately lead to Iwagakure attacking them, and it was his wish for them to make up for their mistakes, Kumori just couldn’t look past it. His mother and father both, gone, before his eyes and in some of the most brutal of manners.
With his head hanging down, he got in line behind several trading carts and an old wagon exiting the village. As the smooth and level stone wall was opened by Iwagakure Shinobi with Doton affinities, Kumori felt the sun beat down on his black and red hair. He had his eyes fixed on the Fukusha emblem dangling by a string from his neck. He had no idea what to expect and would simply figure things out as needed. Kumori wasn’t given a whole lot of information about the task at hand, and was hoping Yuji would have some more specifics.
As the carts and wagon exited the village and landed on dirt, Kumori emerged at the end of line. Hands in his pockets, he saw his cousin waiting for him. It had been awhile since they last spoke but he recognized him instantly. A feeling of familiarity and nostalgia washed over him as he approached Yuji. He has gotten taller, but not much had seemed to be different. He paused as he got closer and greeted his cousin with a nod. “Yuji.”
Kumori’s cousin, Yuji, was the son of their clan’s leader. Kumori appreciated everything his uncle had done for him, being the one who fastened his forehead protector into place upon graduating the academy. Thinking about the academy, he believed that was the last time he saw or at least really interacted with Yuji. He remembered his father training the younger Fukusha during their nomadic times. Uneasy feelings kept sweeping over him as he approached the wall. He wasn’t sure what they would encounter, and he wasn’t sure how he’d feel if they even found long lost clansman. Would they even want to join the village after being away for so long? On the outside he was calm, cool, and collected. Composed, as he was taught to carry himself. On the inside he felt numb and empty. Even though his father was the one who made the decisions that ultimately lead to Iwagakure attacking them, and it was his wish for them to make up for their mistakes, Kumori just couldn’t look past it. His mother and father both, gone, before his eyes and in some of the most brutal of manners.
With his head hanging down, he got in line behind several trading carts and an old wagon exiting the village. As the smooth and level stone wall was opened by Iwagakure Shinobi with Doton affinities, Kumori felt the sun beat down on his black and red hair. He had his eyes fixed on the Fukusha emblem dangling by a string from his neck. He had no idea what to expect and would simply figure things out as needed. Kumori wasn’t given a whole lot of information about the task at hand, and was hoping Yuji would have some more specifics.
As the carts and wagon exited the village and landed on dirt, Kumori emerged at the end of line. Hands in his pockets, he saw his cousin waiting for him. It had been awhile since they last spoke but he recognized him instantly. A feeling of familiarity and nostalgia washed over him as he approached Yuji. He has gotten taller, but not much had seemed to be different. He paused as he got closer and greeted his cousin with a nod. “Yuji.”
