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For the greater part of their journey to the Mizukage’s office, Saburō had blanked. The entire time as they maneuvered through the hallways he was on auto-pilot. HIs cadence matching Aōi as they walked behind the Seamstress. Truth be told, he wouldn’t be able to tell ya what they spoke of—or...

Sarcasm, a method of speech that’s used to convey irony, something that Saburō was continuing to improve upon. Aōi was aware of this but others were not and because they weren’t, it slid Saburō into a tactical advantage. And Saburō, as someone who is primarily concerned with efficiency, would...

Saburō’s hair whipped violently as the needle stormed past him before burying itself into the wall, humming with distinct impact. Without flinching, Saburō turned his head ever so slightly, strands still swaying around his face as his icy blue eyes traced the silver thread all the way to its...

Despite what many believe, Saburō is not a cruel man—he is merely to the point, oftentimes too much to the point many become offended. When he was younger he minded these things, it would be bothersome as he felt no one could understand him. But as he grew older, he stopped caring about what...

From the moment she had whistled that tune it had no longer been a conversation, it was an interrogation. The wheels had finished turning and the dots had been connected—Saburō even dotted all his i’s and crossed his t’s. All without raising any suspicion and without any palpable tension in the...

“Is that right?” Saburō hummed in thought, his eyes narrowed as he scratched the bottom of his chin. His eyes looked off to the right side before his gaze returned onto her. “Oh really?” Saburō said surprised to her being from a small land. He looked her up and down, noticing her clothes—”cheap...

It took everything in his power to not roll his eyes at her initial response. What a cliche, aura-farming response. While he had some thoughts about it, he only smiled and faked a laugh. The laugh in itself was good, one wouldn’t be able to tell it wasn’t genuine. Adjusting his clothing a bit...

The blonde-haired woman ahead stepped aside gracefully, bowing slightly as she forfeited her place in line and removed herself from conflict rather easily. Saburō didn’t respond, neither acknowledging her or budging from his position. Even as she passed by and quietly took a seat nearby, he...

“Ahhhhhhh!” The sound escaped Saburō’s lips as he put the now empty bowl down on the counter. He leaned back in his chair getting a good stretch in before he patted his stomach as a light burp escaped his mouth. A smile painted across his face you could tell he was happy. As he brought his arms...

Soon after, Saburō returned to the kitchen. He removed the lid on the stew and inhaled the savory scent of the beef stew. He could smell each individual item he had put into it—the slow-cooked meat, soft carrots and potatoes, and the fresh aromatics which would come together wonderfully...

Thck. Thck. Thck. The sound echoed throughout the dim corridors, sharp and deliberate. A blade, no doubt, attaching itself to what could only be flesh. Then came a splash—a heavy drop of something into liquid from a considerable height. Again, like clockwork: Thck. Thck. Thck. The same cutting...