”Lord Karagata; your guest has arrived.”
Kinsue looked up from the stacks of files laid out on his desk. Once, his home office had been covered in contracts and logistical information. Since he had rejoined the military, he found that those had been replaced with mission requests, and all the other hidden work that the village required to remain standing.
His old rival, Naohiro, had been blunt with him. If Kirigakure worked as it should, a man like Kinsue would have had no business signing off on what he had been given. Experienced jounin were the men and women with the knowledge to make these calls. Who among the shinobi population had the skills to take on which task? What mission would best cultivate the bright talent among the chaff? None of this should have been left to someone just returned from civilian service.
Of course, nothing ever worked as it should; and the Karagata had a tolerance for idle paperwork that few in his profession could match. If his old friend had to look over the choices he made and ensure that the village wouldn’t be weakened by them, at least it would be a little easier for him.
For Kinsue at least, it was a fine way to learn the skills of the shinobi that had come after him.
”Thank you, Oharu. Direct him in please.” The gray haired servant nodded, and made her way back to the home’s entrance.
Karagata Shinjiro had left word yesterday that he wished to speak to his older cousin. It had come as a surprise of course; the two of them hardly knew each other. The last time Kinsue had even seen the Bannin was 6 years ago, when they were both sent to Soul Country. He imagined that there was some specific purpose to the visit. After all, why else would a man as illustrious as him waste his time with Kinsue?
He stood and palmed one of the mission folders as he made his way out of the office. He had made sure to prepare his home properly for the visit, and so made his way to his state room. Shinjiro would be treated as an honored guest so long as he was under Kinsue’s roof, and so he would find himself led through a garden path to the outside entrance to the hall. Kinsue would be waiting by the time he arrived.
”Shinjiro, it’s good to see you after so long,” he would say. The Bannin would see a tastefully decorated hall, with a small, low table placed at its center. Kinsue was sitting at the far end of it, and on it was only the folder he had brought, a small steaming teapot, and two accompanying cups. Once his younger cousin had settled himself, he would reach for the latter.
”Tea?”
Kinsue looked up from the stacks of files laid out on his desk. Once, his home office had been covered in contracts and logistical information. Since he had rejoined the military, he found that those had been replaced with mission requests, and all the other hidden work that the village required to remain standing.
His old rival, Naohiro, had been blunt with him. If Kirigakure worked as it should, a man like Kinsue would have had no business signing off on what he had been given. Experienced jounin were the men and women with the knowledge to make these calls. Who among the shinobi population had the skills to take on which task? What mission would best cultivate the bright talent among the chaff? None of this should have been left to someone just returned from civilian service.
Of course, nothing ever worked as it should; and the Karagata had a tolerance for idle paperwork that few in his profession could match. If his old friend had to look over the choices he made and ensure that the village wouldn’t be weakened by them, at least it would be a little easier for him.
For Kinsue at least, it was a fine way to learn the skills of the shinobi that had come after him.
”Thank you, Oharu. Direct him in please.” The gray haired servant nodded, and made her way back to the home’s entrance.
Karagata Shinjiro had left word yesterday that he wished to speak to his older cousin. It had come as a surprise of course; the two of them hardly knew each other. The last time Kinsue had even seen the Bannin was 6 years ago, when they were both sent to Soul Country. He imagined that there was some specific purpose to the visit. After all, why else would a man as illustrious as him waste his time with Kinsue?
He stood and palmed one of the mission folders as he made his way out of the office. He had made sure to prepare his home properly for the visit, and so made his way to his state room. Shinjiro would be treated as an honored guest so long as he was under Kinsue’s roof, and so he would find himself led through a garden path to the outside entrance to the hall. Kinsue would be waiting by the time he arrived.
”Shinjiro, it’s good to see you after so long,” he would say. The Bannin would see a tastefully decorated hall, with a small, low table placed at its center. Kinsue was sitting at the far end of it, and on it was only the folder he had brought, a small steaming teapot, and two accompanying cups. Once his younger cousin had settled himself, he would reach for the latter.
”Tea?”