The trek had been rather long, the pairing crossing country after country in their return to the blue haired man’s homeland. The mist increased its presence as they strode onward and onward, eventually settling it at its perpetual state of omnipresence, not thick enough to completely obscure vision but noticeable in any right. The faint curls of moisture whipped about in the lazy breeze of the day, a breath of the Ocean coming in off of Her bosom, welcoming the two traveling men into her rather chilly embrace. After a time the two set foot upon solid ground once more, their brief sailing stint having drawn to a conclusion as they traversed the great ocean surrounding and protecting the Land of Water and her crowned jewel, the Village Hidden in the Mist. Kirite felt a certain level of uncertainty towards the village, he having left for business at a time in which filthy ingrates had seemed to spout from the very streets of the place.
After a short time of walking and brief conversation punctuated by long, companionable intermittent silences, Kirite spoke up. The two had neared the village and the native ANBU wondered aloud at a certain proposition made to him by the older man. “The village draws near. We should have use of their medical facilities, if you would prefer, though we could carry this out anywhere that you see fit. You’re the doctor after all.” His voice maintained a low, even tone as he spoke, loud enough for Kamina to hear but soft enough to allow the surrounding atmospheric moisture to deaden it to any surrounding ears. In all honesty, the assassin felt a touch unsure in how to broach such a topic, he not having studied much about genetic surgery and so he could not say with certainty what kind of facilities or aid this man may need. He would, as such, allow his companion to decide upon the location and timing for the whole thing.
The topic over which the blue haired man now ruminated had already been discussed prior: a surgery of significant value, it granting the power to augment the man with more of that ever sought after power hidden in the blood of certain families. The Majin, to be specific. He had never heard of the clan before his encounter with this strange doctor, though their abilities seemed extremely interesting. The odd jewels and gems produced by their DNA which held the secrets of their strength, at least as far as the ANBU member understood, seem powerful and magical all at the same time. He had mused previously that learning such masteries over these skills may prove nearly impossibly difficult as he would have to teacher, but in reality he had never truly had a teacher. His clan was a dead one with no elders or relatives to speak of and certainly no one to good heartedly meander about with a young ninja and teach him the sacred ways of the art of mixing water and lightning. And this knowledge came, once more, with a peculiar and powerful gift.
“So, shall we?”
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