Leaves Trailing In Water [p]

Four years had passed.

They weren't Genin anymore, that would complete degrading missions just to make a name for themselves within Konohagakure. Nor were they children who believed they found love at the tender age of twelve. Soratsu, Ryūza, and Kotesu were in every sense of the word - men now; fully matured Chūnin of the Hidden Leaf. The countless nights of chasing monkeys, cleaning hospitals, and walking dogs had finally paid off for the trio. And fortunately, the Hokage was so impressed with their talents - their will of fire that burned so brightly; that he had allowed them to rank up.

Though even with this newfound rank obtained; they were still not satisfied. Found deep within the dark depths of the Forest of Death - perched upon the arm of a tree - would be the likes of Kotesu. The once small, fragile child, now molded into a true shinobi; those fragile maroon orbs becoming more durable than ever - more cold. His right leg rested upon the branch, whilst his other leg dangled - swinging to-and-fro as he spoke to his kin. As stated before, they were no longer children - men had been forged over the years; men that were now united brethren.

"I'm saying, we should go there. There's no need to not travel to those lands. Their has been rumors of legendary relics dwelling there, and it would be a perfect opportunity to see if hostility still remains between our land and their own."

He stated softly to the two that were in the vicinity - trying to find any means to convince them. Naturally, little to no effort was needed to convince the two; both always willing to face danger. Unfortunately, this danger that the Jigoku wanted the members of squad zero to face - was immensely different from the others. For this litter venture could start war; endangering Konohagakure entirely - if they did not play their cards right. Nonetheless, ears waited in great anticipation for a response from the two; Ryuza and Soratsu - knowing Ryuza, he would probably vote for them to remain in Konoha.

So much time had passed yet Sora's resolve never diminished. Konohagakure, of course, was the same— the Hokage still ordered Squad 00 on various missions, both easy and difficult. It was a refreshing change of pace though, with the trio of young shinobi now being able to delve into affairs that necessitated people of their skill level without the need of someone to accompany them. It was the perk of being Chunin, and though the Uchiha enjoyed the new found freedom such a rank provided, he rarely showed it.

Nevertheless, his relationship between his two teammates had never been stronger. He viewed them as brothers, and though his 'rivalry' of sorts with Kotesu had not died down - as if that in itself was even remotely possible - their was no longer any ill will towards him from Sora's end. Instead he used the friendships between his two brethren to push him forward; a needed source to fuel him to new levels.

It was through them that he found himself within the Forest of Death. Though he had never fully experienced the area for what it was designed for, a battle ground to test inexperienced shinobi, it made for a good rendezvous point due to it's solitude. Having proceeded there with little haste or pace, and arrived silently with his usual Uchiha attire donned, Sora leaned against a tree. At it's apex was his teammate Kotesu, whom - perhaps as a result for his affinity to sense all those around him - spoke as if he knew his two teammates were already in the vicinity without seeing them.


"Kirigakure? You sure about this, Kotesu? The last time we heeded your suggestion we ended up getting chased by a mob."

Soratsu cooed, pressing his back against the firmness of the tree. Without looking up, he crossed his arms over his chest; the idea was intriguing, he couldn't deny that.

 “And we needed Syndra-sama to bail us out.”

From the depths of darkness which seemingly encircled the modest opening, a voice resonated. It was familiar, it was casual and most importantly—at least to those who spent years understanding such a characteristic—it was muffled. Several footfalls guided the Koizumi from the forest’s embrace and into the light before the two Chūnin. A visage’s raiment taking on the properties of matte black, the garbs the young man fashioned were a testimony to his growth as a shinobi. The silence which took beneath sandaled feet, however, a testament to skill for only his voice—and possibly Kotesu’s sensory prowess—giving any indication to his inception, if one assumed he was even the last to surface.

“We still owe Sensei 1,500 ryo from that adventure.” though it wasn’t as noticeable due to his mask, Ryūza complimented his arrival with a smile beneath his mask.

Time had truly blessed the trio. Taking the three from their days as Academy students, and with assistance from luck, forging Konohagakure’s most successful genin squadron. Personalities that conflicted drove each other to ascertaining wellsprings of experience and latent power that couldn’t be taught with mere structural education. No, in the time they spent with one another, lessons were learned and, organically, their talents all came to light. Even for a boy who many thought didn’t possess latent rarities soon found himself a genius among elites. This wasn’t taught by Syndra; this was an instrument of nature’s design. When it rained, it poured. When three individuals of strong impartialities came together, they became one. Ryūza was just another organ that ran this machine.

Sighing, he would continue, stopping but meters from his unit. “I don’t want to keep owing people for your farfetched schemes.” the Snow-haired added, showing his disinterest, not in the idea of going to Kiri, but doing so under Kotesu’s regime. The boy was talented, and held powers Ryūza couldn’t comprehend. He was also hot-tempered, competitive and above all else, wicked when it came to establishing whatever he wanted. Ryūza wouldn’t trust this leading them into the unknown; the Bloody mist. Tales of exploits there, the massacres and corrupted that stained its reputation red washed over the entire Shinobi World. Konohagakure wasn’t ignorant to these claims. However, the say the Chūnin wasn’t interested would have been a lie.

Four years and those two hadn’t changed one bit. It was reminisce to the point where Ryūza almost forgot why he had come here for the day, watching the two instantly spill over into comical banter. It was as If time had stilled for them.

A soft sigh came about, escaping the confinements of the Jigoku's soft pink-hued lips - in result of the concerns spoken by his kinfolk. There was no doubt that Kotesu's personal schemes had proven to go south - potentially leading the squad into complicated scenarios; but, even with those strikes brought up against him - he still had an ace up his sleeve to convince one out of the two. Maroon eyes would shift to Soratsu, then to Ryūza, and then back to Soratsu - in that exact order; Kotesu awaiting the appropriate time to speak to defend himself against the onslaught from the Uchiha and the Koizumi.


"Can't we just let bygones, be bygones? You two always want to call me out, like I can't do the same. What about the time Ryūza got us chased by strippers, or when Soratsu was picking fights with the bouncers?"

Each member of this squad had caused havoc within Konohagakure - some worst than others, but granted, they all had their fair shares of bad choices. Simply using the muscles within his arms to push off the branch of the tree - making sure to land in the center of the two, his body would face Soratsu. The words that were about to come out of his mouth would change everything - mainly the decision that was processing within the mind of his red-eyed comrade, whom was rather quick to call out Kotesu's own mistakes.

"Besides," he paused shortly after - for he could already foresee the results of his words, a part of him seeming to be skeptical.


"There's a rumor that a man who killed two Uchihas dwell there. Two Uchihas that resided within Konohagakure a couple of years ago."

“……”


Ryūza was, more or less, speechless. While the features of his face, despite perfect concealment beneath his mask, remained unreadable, his mind raced. The incident at Konohagakure’s nation-renowned gentleman’s club “Trinity” were lost in the tides of history. How the duo managed to escape the bouncers—who were all trained shinobi—and somehow retain all the ryo in their wallets was a miracle from the Shodaime. “In my defense.” Bringing a balled fist to his mouth, a sarcastic, dry cough dispelled from his covered lips into the sealed palm. “You were the one who decided to smack the stripper’s ass.” Even recollecting on such an evening brought shivers across the northern hemisphere of the boy’s brain.

“I just happened to follow your lead.” He added.

REGARDLESS! It was a common trait of Kotesu to deflect; bring to surface matters that concerned his brethren (though in most cases, he still caused) to keep the attention off himself. It was a wise move and against an entity who knew nothing of his exploits, it would have proven efficacious. Any rational shinobi, nonetheless, wouldn’t have entered into a battle of wits and recollection with Ryūza; his arsenal of humiliating stories exceeding even the greatest shinobi’s artillery of jutsu. Kotesu made it easy enough by putting himself out there, this being more evident in his youthful years as Genin.

It was only when the Jigoku gave birth to a rumors mill did Ryūza’s demeanor lessen from casual to more somber. Eyes immediately falling over towards the Uchiha who remained poised in himself. Even if an ocean’s surface remained clear, its depth was too far out of reach to clearly see the bottom; this spoke volumes to Soratsu’s life. He was curious and even if he didn’t show it, Ryūza—and he only assumed kotesu, as well—felt the anticipation brewing. This was only confirmed when the raven-haired altered his positon on going, siding with the arrogant of the three. In truth, the boy still abandoned any true reason for going, knowing they had no place in the village hidden in the mist. Nonetheless, he was far from daft; if he didn’t go, the two would have surely ventured out by themselves. As Soratsu mentioned, they complimented one another in terms of skill; losing any point of a triangle destroyed its cohesion---it wouldn’t have been a triangle anymore.

He wouldn’t have their deaths on his conscience.


“Tch.” Sighing, the Koizumi shuck his head, his hand moving from his mouth to his hitai-ate, rubbing the steel hard enough to force movement against his forehead; stressed by the mere thought of what he planned to say next. “When do you clowns want to roll out?” He folded, his cards falling on the table after succumbing to the pressure—though dull in nature.

Between placing himself in Soratsu's shoes and listening to his response, there was very little that truly believed that the newfound news had done nothing. Ryūza and Kotesu had known the boy for four years - four long years that had strengthen their bond; their knowledge of one another. And this mock display that was being placed up - was the least bit of believable. Not a single fragment within the Jigoku bought the Uchiha's words; he'd knew much like the Koizumi - that the statement had lingered inside of Soratsu.

Though it was no longer Kotesu's place to dwell on the matter, he felt somewhat troubled - even concern about the thoughts racing through Soratsu's mind. A few steps would be taken towards the Uchiha - each step being taken with cautious, and when he was close enough - a single hand would be placed on his shoulder. No words had to be spoken, nor eye contact was needed to indicate that Kotesu was simply - by all means, paying respects to his brother's fallen parents.

Turning to face Ryūza now, the Jigoku would respond shortly after.


"Tomorrow."

A simple push of the legs followed suit after the statement - leaving only of gust of wind to indicate that Kotesu was once there. Knowing his comrades, they most likely had more to discuss amongst themselves.

They both spoke, but their words fell on deaf ears. Soratsu had tuned everything out, pushing the ideas of vengeance and finding the person responsible to the forefront of his psyche. Some would consider such a thing a common marker of an Uchiha, but for Sora it meant much more than just his clan; the person who had killed his parents was out there roaming around, free - while his parents were murdered in cold blood before they even saw their son walk.

It wasnt fair. How could such a perso— Soratsu's thoughts were halted, the touch of his teammate shaking him out of his brief reprieve. His eyes shot up to watch him, feeling a certain genuineness from his kin that he did not see too often. Perhaps he was telling the truth.

Once he vanished in a gust of wind the Uchiha would waste no time and follow suit, ensuring to send a nod in Ryuza's way before dissipating among the mighty zephyr.