Prelude
It had rained the day he'd met her; poured down as though the heavens themselves were crying about something and yet, despite even that fact Gene couldn't let go of the way she'd looked at him with those vibrant jade orbs of hers. Yes...he remembered, remembered feeling the uncomfortable familiarity of what it meant to be truly exposed and under a microscope. How was it, he wondered, that on a day like today when all seemed affected by the gloom she could remain...
so perfect.
"Doesn't look like it's going to stop coming down any time soon," Gene grumbled. He hated the rain, it reminded him of the day that Konoha had lost one of its promising young prospects & more closer to home, it reminded him of his mother. With a hand pressed up against porcelain colored walls Gene breathed with the slow deliberation of a man twice his age and observed from the second floor window of his home as the rain continued to soak Konoha's cobbled streets. A weary affair for sure but one that neither he nor anyone on the planet could control even if they wanted to; after all, no man walking possessed such power. Or so he would have liked to believe. A sigh escaped him and before Gene realized what he'd been doing the young man was sitting down in an uncomfortable black chair holding a small carton of cigarettes in his hand, a tap once to free one of its container and then --- a knock at the door. He didn't have to look to figure out who it was, it was always the same person.
"What is it now?" He asked from his chair with eyes still fixed to the carton. Soon, a voice answered out from somewhere in the room and Gene fought back another groan. He never understood why they even bothered with knocking if they were just going to break into the place; more importantly, he'd already updated his security four times this month alone -- clearly his efforts were pointless. "Smoking is a bad habit, you know?" Another groan, this time unrestrained. "I don't smoke," Gene replied and was meant with a quick "and the carton in your hands?" Gene was starting not to like how much attention to detail that the Anbu payed to him. Then again, that was their job. No matter what he did or where he went for as long as he were next in line to be Commander they would always be watching. "Just a research tool for developing a new style of jutsu," Gene replied. He'd only half way lied because he HAD been trying to study into making techniques from Ash, he just wasn't using the Carton of cigarettes to do it. Sensing his growing irritation the nameless, faceless Anbu operative tossed a file that landed square on Gene's desk and released a closed mouth noise that Gene recognized as a snarky rebuttal. They knew not to question him after the last person failed to get the memo; for that at least, he was grateful.
Gene didn't reply. There was no point. He'd known that the operative was already gone and the only reason that they'd announced themself at all was because of who Gene was and what he represented...and what he would do if they hadn't. Young as he was Gene wasn't known for being particularly kind to anyone foolhardy enough to get on his bad side which - unfortunately for those of Anbu, carried a much heavier price than those he called colleagues during the day. No one would scold him for breaking an arm or two of a nameless Shinobi. Especially when he possessed the capability to mend those injuries. Still, whatever inclination that Gene had for the carton in his hand was gone now and as his focus shifted to the file, he'd tossed the box aside and forgot about it entirely. "Oh..now this is surprising. Never would have thought I'd be heading back there again." He glanced up at the sound of booming thunder rattling his window and then sighed again, "especially not under these circumstances. I'm going to need an umbrella."
Throwing on his white Buntaicho Robe as though it were just another article of clothing Gene threw up the hood and then glanced over to the umbrella sitting slanted by the doorway, then he looked down at the cloak and finally outside again. A sigh slipped from behind the mask and when lightning flashed outside and into the darkened room the ghostly figure that had been standing perplexed dead center amidst a bed, desk and other things, was nowhere to be found.
It was almost as if he'd simply...vanished. When next the cloaked man appeared it would be to venture into the Awai compound. Of course, he didn't just walk right through the front steps to the place; no, Uoza was a man who didn't care for wasting time nor the time of others. He could not be bothered to explain to any prying eyes why an Anbu operative had been there nor did he wish to do so. For that reason among others, He'd entered the compound from underground and eventually got around to sending a Shadow clone to knock on the front door of one Awai Uta while he had his fun breaking into her establishment silently and quickly through a window. Any woman would say that a man should never enter her home unless invited but in the case of the Anbu black ops, they were always invited...the people just didn't realize it.