Obtaining a rather rare gift...

AS Oda would grow tired of the same old ideal daily mission taking and drowning on about it he would have receive a rather interesting letter from one of the jounin in the village named cole by the signing of the letter at the bottom telling him to meet him in the village training grounds and that he had a gift for him. Usually he would feel this was a trap and really simply shred the letter but he has heard this man’s name before and truly if it was a trap the man would be able to attack the little scumbag that wanted to try and trick him to begin with. So in all honesty he went in with the killing intent set on ten however, as he would slowly arrive at the training ground he would jump swiftly into a tree and mask his presence to check his surrounding drawing two kunai in his right hand, he would sit on a strong tree branch twenty meters in the air and if he was attacked would act as though he was falling and catch himself on the bottom of the branch and throw his kunai at the assailant. Though most people of his rank weren’t very skilled in scenery and no village would send a high rank after an unknown genin unless truly they had no idea who he truly was or had him confused with someone else.

As the time would fly by it seemed an hour had gone by with no sign of anyone and he would begin to wonder if truly anyone would be coming to the predestined location to begin with. Perhaps it would be a test to see if he was truly a ninja throughout but he would grow tired of sitting in the tree and would leap down and land on the ground with his hands in his pockets as he would tuck away his kunai while still in the air his katana hanging off his left hip. He would take a stand looking at around in a 360 motion and then would stop on his heels to be facing the entrance he would wonder if someone would be coming through the mist for he started to see a rather shadowy image but he would wait and see not saying a word however, still masking his presence for the training of it all.

Cole would see the genin and not show himself as he had no reason to. Where he was going he would not be needing his blade or at least not for a while. He had seen the kid around and had seen that he had a bit of tallent with using a sword so he figured that the blade would be in good hands while he was gone. He felt on the mask on his face that covered his entire face and made sure it was firm. Then he threw the sword to the ground in front of the man or rather the kid as a gift from him. He spoke so that the kid would here him but made sure to keep his presence hidden. He did this my using the hidden mist technique to conceal his himself. When the mist would clear the sword would be in front of the genin and Cole would be gone without a trace. Take care of it kid. Cole said this then vanished into the forest of the village taking his mist with him.{Exited}{Gave the genin the sword}

Whispers. So many whispers, an endless amount of tips, stories and fallacies. Since he was a boy he has lusted for it. Since his shinobi career began as toddler, he pretended to wield it. He would close his eyes, and he was transported miles away. With nothing but an oaken branch and his imagination forming it into a legendary weapon; every mighty swing over would cause another imaginary enemy to fall victim to his power.  As he aged his fascination with the weapon did not hinder. As he rose to power and gained many subordinates, he made it a major focus. Any word, whisper or clue to its location would reach his ears. Despite all his desire he was never blessed with accurate information, but he never gave up hope. He knew one day fate would bring the blade into his possession.

Hakai loved his home and often spent his time strolling gay-fully through the crowded village streets. Taking a few moments here and there to talk, share a joke or dish the gossip. Often the tall slender man could be seen singing through the streets. Today was one of those days, a street performer playing on pots and pans had infused inspiration into Hakai. Leaving some ryo in a bowl Hakai would walk away, every step to the pounding bass. Before long like a maggot eating its way to the surface of a rotting corpse, the beat grew. Until like a maggot that finally developed its wings, it took off. Just as he was harmonizing a techno-metal bohemian rhapsody, he was un-righteously impeded. The interrupters were two of Hakai’s subordinates; both in standard Anbu gear. Hakai recognized them immediately as patrol unit, their masks identifying their division. Out of breath they spoke eagerly, clearly they sprinted to find him.  

The vertically challenged of the pair and an obvious female spoke first. Exasperated she informed him of the situation. Nodding from the information he released a sigh; thinking to himself in a grumble. “I never get to relax.” He reached down and firmly grabbed a mask, placing it tightly over his face. Hakai was gone now and Demon of the Mist took control of the situation. He turned to the female, Report to the Mizukage! Inform him of a possible invasion, he needs to lead his jounin. Without a pause for his response he turned to the other. Have all the patrols stay vigilant, if they encounter the enemy they should not engage until they raise the alarm. The three shinobi might only be the beginning; war has come to the Mist. Send squads one and four to the hospital, now GO! With nods of agreement, they were gone and Demon of the Mist was moving in a separate direction.

With a vertical leap, he was on nearest rooftop. He would turn to face the main village gate where the Anbu had reported as the point of conflict. Peering outward across the village he could see, a thick mist formed over a section of the village. He quickly identified the staple technique of the Mist village. The created veil, hung unnaturally covering the details of the battle. Every fiber his being ordered him to the battle, to fight in the Mist village besides his brethren. Knowing there was a more important task, he headed towards the Mist Academy and training grounds. He needed to ensure sure the students and low level shinobi were safe. Blasting forward at full speed, he made sure to continually scan the horizon for anything suspicious.  As he came upon low ranking shinobi he ordered them to proceed with the safety plan. As he approached his next destination, his fear became a reality.  As he gazed from a rooftop across the training fields, he saw it. Another thick veil clearly being created through the use of the ninjutsu, Hidden Mist. His mind raced, Were they using the mist to invade us? Is it another battle? Genin train on these fields, are they targeting our children! No matter the answer, something wasn’t right. They were too close to the academy; even if it was a full battle regiment they must be stopped. Taking a deep breath he raced forward ready to die for his village.

Keeping his eyes on the mist as it formed around the area, he made sure to move silently and listen. Positioning himself to the side of the battle fields, in striking distance he stayed out of sight. As he approached could hear a single man speak from the mist. A moment later the sound of something dropping rang out. Retreating footsteps of a single target and the mist began to recede.   As the mist began to roll away, Demon began to scan everything. He was ready to react to any situation, molding his chakra through his body. At the feet of the genin, the sword called, Great Sword sat like an unrealistic dream. Demon of the Mist’s battle harden mind, cracked and shifted to Hakai. Without thinking he body flickered in front of the Young genin, grabbing the blade. Uncontrollably giddy, he was like a child beneath his mask, he wanted to jump with joy. After a millisecond of incoherent glee, he returned to his senses, he began to focus on his surroundings. He listened for signs of the enemy still in the area as his mind race. Who? What? How did this?? Why this boy? Why this moment? What it a sign?

Still wearing his hooded cloak, he cleared his mind and stayed focused. Enemies could still be at their borders. He would look down at the genin, his mask showed his rank. It meant he was the leader of the Anbu and the legendary Demon of the Mist. The towering man would peer downward, holding the legendary blade known in the ninja world as Samehada. Speaking in a dark rumbling tone, the Demon of the Mist would say. You never saw me. You never saw this blade.  Whoever laid it in front of you is incompetent. To give the most terrifying of our village artifacts to a genin, is a disgrace. The mist is being assaulted, follow the safety protocol! Without waiting for a response he would flicker away again. With Samehada in hand, he continued onward heading to finish his goal. Pumping chakra into the godly blade as he moved, he could feel the mighty sword awaken.

EXIT

OCC: edited post.

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