Unexpected Company

[Jinan B]

”Lord Aisu is away on business, I’m afraid you’ll have to come back later.”

”Business? He arranged this meeting with me.”

”This was last minute. He offers his greatest apologies. I can have word sent on his return.”

This wasn’t exactly how Kinsue had imagined the day would go. He stood alone in the Aisu clan compound, a slight stack of papers under his arm, surely sticking out like a fool among those so often opposed to his own family. He looked up again at the servant who had answered the door. ”Very well, Naohiro will know where to send the message.” The young man nodded and closed the door.

The young Karagata settled himself for a moment on a public bench close to his old friend’s estate. A couple hours had just opened up in his day, and he began to think what it was he would do with it. He supposed he could take the time to train or move forward on his paperwork. Though he certainly didn’t have much of a taste for either right now.

His life had been moving so much more frantically ever since he had re-enlisted. Between getting himself up to strength, taking on what missions he could to repair his reputation, and helping out the Head Hunter Captain with the seemingly endless number of mission requests and other documents thrown his way; he hadn’t had much time to simply breath and take in how his life had changed.

At least, for a moment, he could do so here. He had plenty of time to figure out his next move, and to hell with any stuck-up locals who didn’t want him lingering.

[Gara]

Aisu Hatsuyuki strolled leisurely through the village, letting time slip away as he observed children imitating the ways of the ninja, their playful energy contrasting with the weight on his mind. Unconsciously, his steps led him to his cousin's grand estate. Since his heart-to-heart conversation with Naohiro, the cousin had become a steady anchor amid the turbulent sea of Hatsuyuki's thoughts. It wasn't any grand revelation, just the simple fact that Naohiro had provided the space for him to untangle his emotions, offering guidance when others had simply urged him to move on.

Standing before the imposing door of Naohiro's residence, Hatsuyuki realized he had wandered here without truly intending to. He knocked lightly, and a butler appeared, regretfully informing him that Naohiro was currently absent. The unexpected absence caught Hatsuyuki off guard, prompting him to reflect on his own impulsive visit. "No, that's alright. Please extend my regards to him when he returns," he responded courteously, a polite smile accompanying his bow.

Walking away from the doorstep, Hatsuyuki found himself at a crossroads of purpose. "What now?" he pondered. His aimless wanderings had been driven by a mix of boredom and the need to find solace in the midst of his relentless training. His body sought rest, yet his restless mind resisted the idea. He paused in the middle of a path, fixating on an occupied bench as he stared blankly into the distance. His thoughts swirled in endless circles, a reflection of the turmoil he was still grappling with.

[Jinan B]

A few Aisu clan members passed by in the brief moments that Kinsue relaxed, looking at him with mixtures of confusion and suspicion. He would meet their eyes, smiling broadly, wondering how long he could linger before they tried to escort him out of the compound. Before he would have a chance to find out, however, one particular passer-by caught his eye. A young feminine member of the clan, but one that he had seen before.

It took the young Karagata a moment to place a name to his face. Hatsuyuki had been assigned to the mission in the Northern Wastes, of course. One of the hopefuls to the Seven Swords as he recalled. Now, the young man also seemed as though he wanted to speak to Kinsue’s old friend; only to be similarly disappointed.

Kinsue couldn’t quite place what spurred his next move; some strange sort of whimsy that he hadn’t felt in years. Nevertheless, he stood from the bench and made his way over to the younger man. ”Hatsuyuki, right?” he said as he approached, raising a hand in casual greeting. ”Kinsue; we met on Kozan’s mission. Are you and Naohiro-kun close?”

Free as the next few hours were for the Karagata, he couldn’t think of any better way to spend it than to connect with a rising member of the Aisu. After all – if he was the kind of man that Naohiro would be interested in, then surely he would be agreeable enough to Kinsue. Hopefully, Hatsuyuki would feel just as willing to give up some of his day ahead.

[Gara]

Hatsu emerged from his contemplation as his gaze met the inquiring eyes of the young man before him. He arched an eyebrow, his curiosity evident in the slight tilt of his head to the left. "Your face seems familiar, though the connection to a name eludes me," he mused, his voice carrying a soft and slightly feminine tone. His confusion resonated in his words as he engaged in the interaction.

A serene smile played on his lips as he responded, "Indeed, I am Hatsuyuki. As for your question, my relationship with Onii-san is much like any cousins'. While not exceptionally close, I do turn to him for guidance when needed." His voice remained gentle, holding a balance between femininity and strength. His attention remained fixed on the young man before him, his features reflecting a patient attempt to remember the other person.

Then, as if a memory had just resurfaced, Hatsu's expression shifted subtly, his lips forming a small 'O' of realization. "You belong to the Karagata clan, like Senior Shiv," he recalled, his voice tinted with an apologetic undertone. "My memory played a trick on me for a moment. I apologize for not recalling who you are immediately."

With an inviting gesture, he extended the offer for companionship. "Would you care to join me for a walk? I find my schedule rather unoccupied today, and some company would be a welcome diversion."

[Jinan B]

Kinsue grinned at the Aisu’s lack of familiarity with him. It came as little surprise; after all, he wasn’t exactly one to stand out. The mission had more than enough higher-profile shinobi to attract Hatsu’s attention.

To hear Naohiro spoken of in such terms, almost as honoured elder was also almost amusing. Yet, at the same time, it reminded him of the gulf that had arisen between the two. His old rival had become a war hero, a famed jounin. Kinsue was only one of many following in his footsteps. Perhaps he could lessen that gap one day; turn them back into equals. For now, he supposed he had one thing his old friend didn’t: the chance to speak to younger ninja as equals.

Then, the younger man seemed to finally click, realising his familial heritage. He chuckled at the comparison made to Shiv. ”Quite so, Shiv and I are of the same branch. Though I’ve always found our differences greater than our similarities.” It was not meant without respect; Shiv was, after all, among the greatest weapons of the village. Even if nowadays it was hard to consider him anything other than diminished. A drunkard, perhaps even better-off retired.

Hatsuyuki’s invitation turned the Karagata away from those thoughts. He didn’t need to consider his response; the invitation was more than welcome. ”Gladly,” he said. ”As it happens, I have a surprisingly open day as well.” The two began to walk, making their way out of the Aisu clan compound.

After a brief silence, Kinsue remembered some details from the Division’s files he had seen. ”If I have it right, you’re training in the hopes of joining the Seven? You must be quite driven.” The Swordsmen were hardly a group that permitted anything less, but the Karagata was eager to hear what Hatsuyuki made of his ability. It didn’t hurt to have such an easy topic to open more conversation with, either.

[Gara]

Hatsu's expression broke into a warm and genuine grin as Kinsue readily agreed to accompany him on a stroll. As they ambled together through the heart of his clan's compound, he listened attentively to the young man's words, his demeanor a portrait of polite interest. In the backdrop, the bustling tapestry of the clan members' daily lives unfolded like a living painting, a constant reminder of his place in the intricate web of their community. Yet, beneath the surface, an invisible barrier had always separated Hatsu from his fellow clansmen ever since that fateful day when he received the order to extinguish his lifelong rival. It was a burden he bore silently, one that etched a solitary path through his existence. Nevertheless, he remained steadfast in his commitment to his clan's cause, a devotion that transcended personal feelings, a truth he upheld without question.

With a voice as smooth as silk, he spoke, the words painted in a shade of slight embarrassment, a reflection of his inner thoughts, "I meant no disrespect in drawing that comparison. Sometimes, my words escape me in the heat of realization, unfiltered by thought." He continued to stride gracefully alongside Kinsue as they left the compound, the breeze carrying with it the scent of greenery around them. "My aspiration has long been to ascend to the ranks of the Seven. In pursuit of this goal, I have immersed myself in the study of our clan's Kenjutsu art, delving deep into the secrets of its technique and philosophy. Additionally, I have embraced the teachings of Zantou Kenjutsu, recognizing the unique strengths it offers. The dream that fuels my spirit is to one day merge the wisdom of both sword styles, uniting their grace and power in a harmonious blend. But, of course, such mastery demands patience and unwavering dedication," he confessed, a glimmer of determination shining in his eyes as he shared his ambitions.

[Jinan B]

"Pay it no mind," Kinsue would say to the teenager in response to his apologies. Despite making clear the separation between him and his cousin, he had taken no offence by the comparison. His hand, for a moment, would settle on Hatsuyuki’s shoulder before withdrawing again. An attempt at a sign of comfort and openness.

Aside from the apparent embarrassment in his temporary companion, Kinsue was glad to see the younger man seemed comfortable opening up to him. ”Zantou? Shinji favours that style, as I recall.” He wondered if that was the reason the Aisu had pursued it. As Overseen of the Seven, his younger cousin was a shining light to aspiring blade-masters everywhere. Then again Zantou, how key one's will and focus was for a master of it… ”Fine choices, both styles,” he said.

To fuse the techniques of multiple styles would not be easy, he knew as well. Kinsue looked more closely over the young man and saw the clear intent within him. The subtleties of his movements – the strength he had already gained – all spoke of potential. ”Little of worth comes easily, but what is there for us other than to strive towards greatness?” Kinsue had his own goals in mind. Goals that would surely have seemed unquestionable when he was younger.

The pair were now just about at the border of the Aisu compound, making their way towards the harbour of Kiri’s highest tier. The atmosphere at the water’s edge was the best in the village, at least as far as the Karagata was concerned, surrounded as they would be by the finish ships of the village. The perfect place to guide their journey.

[Gara]

Hatsu's words carried a weight of wisdom as he reflected, his voice laced with a solemn tone. "Nothing worth having is ever cheap," he began, his words deliberate and measured. "Though the price one pays may be different for each person." He allowed a brief moment of contemplation to linger before shaking off the somber mood that had momentarily enveloped him. Walking beside Kinsue, Hatsu maintained a companionable silence, the atmosphere between them devoid of any awkwardness. Their footsteps fell in sync, the rhythm of their journey unfolding naturally.

Upon reaching the harbor, Hatsu's face lit up with a gentle smile, his eyes drawn to the vast expanse of glistening saltwater. The scent of the sea filled his senses, a familiar and comforting aroma that tugged at memories of countless days spent near the water's edge. He couldn't resist sharing a tidbit of his own experiences. "You know," he began, his voice filled with a nostalgic hint, "I once attempted to incorporate salt water into my Hyouton techniques. The idea was to enhance its properties, infuse it with the essence of the sea. However, it didn't quite turn out as I had hoped. Instead of empowerment, it weakened the technique terribly." His admission was accompanied by a soft chuckle, the memory of his experiment now a lighthearted anecdote.

Gazing out over the harbor, Hatsu found himself pulled into a whirlpool of memories, their arrival as unexpected as the waves crashing against the shore. These recollections were not gentle, but rather, they were unbidden and carried a heavy weight of sorrow.

He recalled the days when he and Takeshi, inseparable friends at the time, would eagerly descend upon the bustling harbor to assist in unloading ships, typically the kind of missions assigned to lower-ranking ninja. The recollections of their shared adventures at the harbor came flooding back with poignant clarity. Together, they would engage in their duties, sharing laughter and youthful exuberance before their missions took a more competitive turn. Determined to outdo one another, they'd challenge themselves to see who could swim the farthest from the shore, their friendly rivalry a testament to their unwavering bond. But these precious memories were now etched with a painful poignancy, for Takeshi had been more than a friend; he had been a rival, a confidant, and ultimately, a victim. The realization was like a chilling gust of wind through Hatsu's heart, a reminder of the irrevocable tragedy that had befallen them both.

"I think Yusuke was the only person I have ever met who enjoyed being down here even more than I do," Hatsu confessed softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of nostalgia and sorrow. "His father owned one of the ships we often found ourselves assigned to unload. Looking back, I suspect his father may have arranged for those missions, perhaps to keep a watchful eye on his son, ensuring his safety amidst our ninja duties." As the memories continued to wash over him like relentless tides, Hatsu stood at the harbor, a place that had once been a sanctuary of youthful friendship, now tinged with the bittersweet flavor of loss.

[Jinan B]

The pace at the upper docks was sedate today. There was always some activity -- ships that needed to be unloaded or loaded -- but many of the dockworkers were instead resting as the heat of the day passed by. The height of summer was enough to make continuous labour unappealing even under the constant veil of mist. For Kinsue it was perfectly comfortable. Ideal even, with so much of the year being so cold in the village.

As Hatsuyuki spoke about his old experiments with Hyouton, the Karagata couldn’t help but chuckle. There was something resonant about the experience. ”The water didn’t freeze properly, I take it?” He remembered experimenting before his chuunin exam; in search of a way to dampen his rival’s strength. Not that those attempts had borne fruit; Kinsue had left salt as better in the hands of their enemies.

The tone of the conversation quickly moved from lighthearted to contemplative, even remorseful. The young Aisu began to speak of another. A friend of his, clearly lost in one way or another. Hatsuyuki had stopped walking and stood still and gazed out across the bay. Kinsue would also pause; before stepping to the edge of the walkway and taking a seat. His feet brushed against the water’s surface as he beckoned for his companion to join him.

”Yusuke… What happened to him?” he would ask. A simple question on the face of it, but Kinsue knew there was much to it. Losing people was such a difficult, unavoidable part of their service. Coming to terms with it; as much a challenge as any mission – and one that Kinsue had struggled with for years in his youth. The war had dialled up that tragic fact, but the pain in Hatsuyuki’s voice seemed more recent than that. If it had been his first close loss, Kinsue hoped he had the support needed to get through it strongly.

[Gara]

Hatsuyuki's gaze remained fixed on the tranquil bay, the rippling waters seeming to reflect the depths of his thoughts. After a moment of contemplative silence, he lowered himself to sit beside Kinsue, a somber air enveloping him. A dry chuckle escaped his lips, a bitter contrast to the serene surroundings, as his mind became a canvas upon which vivid memories played out. "He was a pure soul, you know?" Hatsu began, his tone matter-of-fact, yet tinged with an underlying sorrow that his stoic demeanor couldn't conceal. "He joined the academy with one purpose: to better help people. And when we became Genin? That's exactly what he did." His words flowed like a melancholic river, each sentence etching deeper into the tapestry of their shared past.

As he spoke, the pain of his memories was palpable, yet his voice remained oddly devoid of emotion, almost as if he had locked away his feelings to protect himself from the overwhelming sorrow. "Whenever we weren't in rigorous training, he was out there in the village, lending a hand to anyone in need. He sought out missions that would benefit our fellow villagers, and he did it with a smile that never seemed to fade." A bitter edge crept into his words as he continued, his voice monotone, a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil within. "He was so relentlessly happy that it almost felt unnatural. There were times when I couldn't understand how he managed it, how he seemed to have an unending well of joy within him. There were moments when I... I lashed out at him for it, as if he didn't understand the harsh realities of our world." Hatsu's voice grew quieter, his gaze shifting from the bay to the ground, his throat tightening as he struggled to find words. "And then... I killed him," he murmured, each word heavy with the weight of his guilt and grief. "Every day of my life since we became Genin, I spent it with Yusuke, my friend, my comrade, and I... I was the one who ended his life."

Hatsuyuki's world seemed to slow as he absorbed the weight of his confession. The tranquility of the bay provided no solace, only a stark backdrop to his inner turmoil. With a deep, steadying breath, he placed his trembling hands on his knees, the physical act grounding him as he prepared to delve deeper into the abyss of his past. Time stretched on in the hushed stillness, a long silence that spoke volumes of the pain he carried within. His voice, when it finally returned, held a trace of something different, a simmering hint of rage buried beneath the surface. "The clan," he began, his words like shards of ice, "they ordered his death." The weight of that decree seemed to press upon him even now, an oppressive force he had struggled against. "Refusal to kill Yusuke would have led to my expulsion from the family, a death sentence hanging over me should I ever attempt to wield my birthright."

As he spoke, the turmoil within him became palpable, a tempestuous undercurrent beneath his stoic exterior. "Senior Naohiro has his theories," he continued, his tone heavy with frustration, "but no concrete evidence of why they gave that order, why they demanded that I snuff out the light of the purest soul I've ever known." The anguish of that decision, the unfathomable burden he carried, lingered in the air like a heavy fog. Hatsu's gaze remained fixed on the ground, his thoughts a turbulent sea of unanswered questions, the riddle of his clan's motives haunting him like a relentless specter.

[Jinan B]

Kinsue allowed himself to be drawn on by his companion’s musings. The story of Yusuke; how they had been friends since the Academy; and the obvious admiration that Hatusyuki had for him. He found himself compelled by it all and reminded also of his years as a genin. The joyful times he had spent with his closest old friends, the fights he had over ambitions and fracturing hopes.

Then the Aisu let slip how his old friend had died, and a shard shot through him. The picture clarified for the man within an instant. A Chuunin Exam, influenced by nobles with far more pride than sense. Now Hatsuyuki’s life would be forever changed by that stubbornness, and most likely for the worse.

How close had Kinsue come to sharing Yusuke’s fate? If he weren’t a noble, would his end have been demanded from Naohiro?

He took a breath and looked at the younger man. ”It should never have happened.” The words carried little weight now, with the deed already done. He paused for a moment, measuring his words carefully. ”The village… Often seems to stand torn between two paths. We had moved away from such practices when I was younger. Now the work is being undone. That stubborn past washes over the future paved for us.”

Still empty. The path built up by the farsighted stood no less threatened.

”I know it is not my place to say this, Hatsuyuki. How you go on from this injustice will be crucial. Those who gave that order would want you to grow cold to it. To see the loss as no greater than the death of an enemy. I think – I think to take that path is a mistake.” He hoped now to find the Aisu’s gaze. What he said now, these words at least held meaning. ”If you agree that change is needed, then you must hold this in your heart. Use it to fuel your conviction." Kinsue had never dealt well with loss, not when he was a boy. Each time he was spurred on, the words of those who saw more clearly than him were what urged him into action.

Perhaps there was a chance he could be that person now.

[Gara]

Hatsuyuki's world seemed to crumble around him as the onslaught of painful memories threatened to engulf him. Overwhelmed, he instinctively buried his head in his hands, as if physically blocking out the torment that surged within. His trembling fingers found solace in the strands of his hair, the tactile sensation serving as an anchor amidst the emotional tempest.

Taking deep, steadying breaths, he desperately sought to regain control over the raging storm of his thoughts. His mantra, spoken like a desperate incantation, slipped from his lips like a lifeline in a tempestuous sea. "Lock them away. Shut them out. Lock them away. Shut them out. Lock them away. Shut them out." Each repetition was a desperate plea, a battle cry against the encroaching darkness of his memories.

As he rocked slightly back and forth, his muttered words became his refuge, a mantra to ward off the encroaching shadows. In that moment, he cared little about appearances. The world around him blurred into insignificance as he delved deeper into his past than he had in a long time. The memories that had been long suppressed were now surging to the surface, overwhelming him with their raw intensity. The turmoil he experienced was evident, his appearance may have seemed disconcerting to an onlooker, but in this private battle against his own history, he was fighting for his sanity. His struggle was a testament to the profound pain and guilt that had lain dormant within him, waiting for the right moment to resurface.

Gradually, the rhythmic rocking motion subsided, and the whispered mantra fell silent in the cool sea breeze. Hatsuyuki slowly raised his head, his hands sliding through his ruffled hair, a feeble attempt to regain some semblance of composure. The disarray of his appearance mirrored the turmoil within, but he pressed on, determined to reassert control over himself. As he straightened up, his once-piercing gaze was replaced by an icy detachment. It was as if a veil of hollowness had descended upon him, shielding him from the raw emotions that had threatened to consume him just moments ago. His features bore no visible cracks, yet beneath the façade, a storm still raged.

"The past," he intoned, his voice like the frosty edge of a blade, "cannot be changed." His words were a stark acknowledgment of the unalterable reality that haunted him. "I can only accept what happened," he continued, each word heavy with the weight of the past, "and grow strong enough to prevent it from happening again." In this moment of solitude by the harbor, Hatsuyuki's resolve was clear. He understood that dwelling on the past was a futile endeavor, that he couldn't undo the choices that had been made. Instead, he chose the path of acceptance and determination, seeking strength not only to bear the burden of his actions but also to shape a future where such choices would never be forced upon him again.

[Jinan B]

Kinsue’s words proved ill-timed and ineffective. He fell silent once more, as the younger man seemed to slip out of his reach. Where he had moments before tried to meet Hatsuyuki’s gaze; now it moved back out over the harbourside, trying to offer the space his companion appeared to need. The pair must have made a strange sight to passers-by; the Aisu struggling to contain his despair, the Karagata quietly allowing it to pass.

Then, any passers-by watching would see the man’s arm reach out and settle tentatively over Hatsuyuki’s shoulders. A small, distant comfort offered to the younger man. Kinsue was prepared to withdraw — had he overstepped and seen that the attempt was unwelcome — but if there was no such refusal then the hand would remain; steady until Hatsuyuki gathered himself once more.

His mind cast back once more, remembering wet grass blown over by gusts of wind. Hibishi scattered across a mist-covered field. The call ‘Surrender! Or else.’ That struggle could so easily have been to the death, whether deliberately or by misfortune, yet Kinsue had never truly felt threatened by his old rival. They had placed their lives in each other’s hands countless times. They understood one another, and their limits. They trusted that the other would see reason and concede had they taken victory in the exam. Kinsue’s promotion to Special Jounin had borne from that trust. His return to service had come from the man’s rousing intervention. Even if he forgot the ordeal that Hatsuyuki was forced through, Kinsue’s place in the village was unclear if he hadn’t had Naohiro. He’d be dead, most likely, or so adrift he may as well have been. Hatsuyuki’s toil had only begun.

Time passed, and Hatsuyuki began to calm. Once he was still, Kinsue would remove his hand (had it not already been rejected) and look over the younger man. Even now, the stillness held only on the surface. He would need, at the least, time to come to terms with his ordeal. Kinsue would keep his tone quiet and soothing as he responded to his companion’s dead resolution. ”That’s all we can ever do.” Not especially complex, on the surface. Grow strong, and keep an injustice from happening again. Almost simple, and at the same time near unreachably difficult. The Karagata allowed the silence a moment more.

Then, he rose to his feet once more. ”It’s time we made our way back, Hatsuyuki.” His hand stretched out to the younger man, offering to pull him back to his feet.

[Gara]

Hatsuyuki's cheeks tinted with a touch of embarrassment as he accepted Kinsue's offered hand, using it as leverage to regain his footing. "I regret letting you witness such a vulnerable side of me. It's not a facet I typically display, and I assure you, it won't happen again," he confessed, his voice holding a mix of chagrin and determination. Grateful for the assistance, he acknowledged Kinsue's consideration with a nod, aiming to swiftly shift the atmosphere. "In any case, I appreciate your help," he continued, his tone steady despite his lingering discomfort. With a gracious air, he released Kinsue's hand and offered a small, appreciative smile. "I do hope that this incident doesn't cloud our budding friendship. I value your understanding."

Admitting the need to depart, he nodded in agreement with Kinsue's observation. "You're right. It's time for us to head back. My pursuits in Ancient Runes require much dedication if I aim to make any progress with them," he explained, a hint of determination coloring his words. With a final nod of gratitude, he prepared to resume his path, the brief moment of vulnerability now tucked away as he focused on his forthcoming endeavors. As Hatsuyuki cast one final glance over the serene bay, a nostalgic smile bloomed across his features. The memories of brighter days, etched in the landscape before him, sparked a warmth that temporarily lifted the weight of his recent turmoil. With a soft chuckle dancing from his lips, he turned to walk back up the familiar path alongside Kinsue.

"You know," he began, his tone tinged with newfound clarity, "being here has brought something to light for me. It's a realization that should have dawned on me long ago." His voice resonated with a sense of revelation, the winds of change whispering through his words. "I've lingered in the shadows of my past for far too long. I'm not a child anymore. It's time I shed that guise and earnestly dedicate myself to embodying the kind of shinobi our village requires." His words carried a blend of resolve and reflection, a sincere understanding of the responsibility he bore. "I might never mold myself into a heartless killer like some among our ranks," he continued, a touch of steel entering his tone, "but I'm far too tender-hearted as it stands." There was a newfound determination in his voice, a commitment to carve a path that balanced strength with compassion, embodying the ideal shinobi without losing his moral compass.

With each step forward, his stride seemed firmer, his gaze set on the horizon. The harbor, now a backdrop to his renewed resolve, marked the beginning of a journey toward self-transformation, a realization that demanded his evolution into a shinobi capable of both strength and compassion.