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Red X
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Post by Red X » Tue May 07, 2019 5:15 pm

Rozan stood alone, a silhouette on a seemingly vacant field. The Morning mist covered the landscape as birds began their morning calls for love and nourishment. A normally cold morning was made colder by the lingering strength of winter as it gave way to spring. Soon the mornings would be a lot more bearable and the mist lighter, but that was still weeks off.

Most of the citizens of Kirigakure didn’t have to deal with this cold directly. It was mostly ninja on duty or rotating shifts, farmers raising to take care of crops or livestock and those unfortunate slaves that were forced to do their master’s bidding. For a time, Rozan one of those unfortunate few. Being a ninja meant sacrificing a normal sleep schedule and more than a few times he would find himself returning from a long mission at the crack of dawn, unable to rest as he had a mission report and debrief to submit. Lately, however, he was prone to sleeping in.

The sound rustling caught his attention, but he didn’t react immediately. Instead he held his position and waited for the inevitable. He didn’t have to wait long. Two silhouettes emerged from the tall grass, mist obscuring their features as they advanced on Rozan with rapid speed, the sound of metal slicing through the air was his only warning of their intent.

With turn he snatched a kunai from the air as it approached him, using the acquired tool to bat away another and return it to the sender with considerable force. The figure slid to evade, leaving the other to advance alone.

The teenager knocked a kick aside, gripping the heel to slam the offender, but instead was forced to flip the boy away to avoid a follow up kick. His opponent landed awkwardly, but Rozan was hard pressed to exploit the opening as the other figure was back in the fray, a flurry of fists and palms to try and force an advantage.

Keeping his wits about him, Rozan calmly deflected a blow and used the opportunity to step into his opponents space landing three quick jabs to the midsection to remove the air from his opponent’s lungs. His opponent grunted in dismay, but found not quarter as Rozan took him by the scruff of his shirt, lifting him off of his feet as he swung him into the other advancing figure.

“Gaaahh!!!” With a loud thump, the pair were brought down to a pile on the ground, groaning in pain as they tried to untangle themselves. Rozan looked on with a smirk as the two began to raise. They were both significantly shorter than the teen, and now that the mist wasn’t blocking his view, Rozan could make out the defeated faces of Omaru and Iga.

Iga stood with a huff, “Man, nothing’s changed! How the heck are we supposed to get better if we’re just getting our ass kicked every time!?”

Omaru followed his face twisted with a frown, “This is disheartening, we’ve been doing this for months and we are met with the same result.”

Rozan allowed a smirk to spread, “Don’t you think you’re asking a lot of yourselves? Teamwork is key, but taking on a Special Jounin is absurd as a genin.”

The duo exchanged glances, “We have classmates that are able to keep up with a chunin, there’s no way we can fall behind!”

“Iga’s right, even if they have abilities, we cannot allow ourselves to be overtaken. If they can best a chunin, then we’ll improve by fighting a Special Jounin!”

That got a laugh from the higher ninja, “I see. Does that mean you two have managed to beat a chunin?” Their silence spoke volumes, “Thought not. You’re better off trying to accomplish that goal, no sense in biting off more than you can chew. That being said, let’s talk about what you two can do to improve.”

Rozan proceeded to give them a few pointers about misdirection and playing to their strengths with teamwork. He doubted he’d have to fight the two again anytime soon, but it was an easy enough assignment and it served as a distraction. When the two departed Rozan found himself alone again with his thoughts.

So much had changed, yet it seemed to happen so rapidly that it marveled him that it had only been six months. Six months since the disappearance of the HHR and all of his allies in HQ. He was returning from a mission, dispatched to deal with some scum that had appeared on one of the outer islands. The mission was a success, but as he went to report in he found that Head quarters had been abandoned.

It was quiet and as he explored he found nothing. Literally empty rooms where supplies and people once sat stationed. He found no notes, no instructions or explanation for what unfolded. There was nothing. Each inquiry into their status was ignored, and because of their secretive nature, Rozan was not sure who a majority of the members were.

Alone and abandoned, Rozan couldn’t help but admit that his ego took a hit. Why had they left him behind? Was he the only one or was there more who like him arrived to an empty building with no explanation? He kept tabs on HQ for a month, hoping to come in contact with someone who could explain what was going on, but then he turned up to find that the entrance had vanished.

He wasn’t sure if it was a high level genjutsu, of if the building had literally changed, but he could not longer access it. Left with nothing but his gear, Rozan was forced to accept that whatever had occurred, he was on his own.

It was surreal. He’d prided himself on needing no one, on being strong no matter what the circumstance. He thought it was his drive for excellence and unfathomable maturity the earned him a spot in the HHR, the cream of the crop and one of the most ruthless organizations he could ever be a part of. So what did it say about him if a group of hardened killers couldn’t find a place for him in their ranks?

Without a word, Rozan shushinned away, leaving the clearing behind as the sun began to pierce the mist.
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