Land of Water

[Frea]

Yuihime also looked to the right briefly to see what had him distracted, but quickly snapped her head back round to meet his face once again. He looked a bit surprised when she said she was from a small land. She watched his eyes looking her up and down, and she raised her left brow, as she crossed her arms. He knew he was judging her by her clothing. Cheaply made by a vendor she had gotten from her land, Shimo doesn't have many good quality goods like clothing and fabrics, even some cases of food. Their food supply was often limited, leaving the poverty-stricken to starve to death if the cold didn't get to them first.

"Keep looking at me up and down, you may well take a picture whilst you're at it."

She jokingly said, of course, whether or not Saburo took it as a joke or something as serious was down to him and his personality. Yuihime was trying to work out the character of the man before her. She found him charming, but at the same time, she felt like he was a calculating, perhaps a sinuous man, if the charming side was a facade. She hummed at his congratulations, which sounded cheerful, and the same with his words, followed up on it. She was about to go into her sleeves to grab a packet of cigarettes, but she had forgotten she had not purchased anymore but had quit smoking, at least for now. She had responded to his celebrations politely.

"Thank you, Sir."

From the way he spoke to the way he was dressed, it certainly told her he was at least a person of importance, perhaps a lord. Perhaps someone with royalty ties. He did have the looks of a handsome, wealthy person. She had noted his interest in her little backstory, though she didn't want to say specifics, but it appeared he knew the tune she was whistling. She gave him a short answer.

"I'm from a place full of Snow and ice the majority of the year, and yes, the tune did stick with me."

Her tone went lightly dark-sounding at the end of her words, though she did notice him looking out the window, where local children were playing. She looked out there as well. She had a small smile at how children were screaming and being kids, though, which was sad..They wouldn't have very happy lives if they knew what it meant to be a shinobi.

 

[Kami]

---

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 air. His eyes glanced over at her through the corner of his eyes as she spoke. That’s what he was trained for. That’s what he excelled at.

Those clothes weren’t just made of cheap fabric, they oozed a familiarity about them. The tune she whistled Saburō had only heard that sound from one being in his entire twenty-six years of life—it was from Aōi, and it was a pacifying trait for when he has resolved to kill. Saburō knew all of this because he was there. He was the other half of the Hyōjin Pair and responsible for the Siege of Shimogakure. Those clothes, from a small land covered in ice and snow year-round, the tune—this woman, she was from Shimogakure and there was no doubt about it. So the question he had was, why was she hiding it?

Hundreds of scenarios went through his mind about that question. Was she a spy? What business does she have with the Mizukage? Was the Mizukage already aware? Not only that, but she didn’t recognize Saburō, he could tell that with ease. Everyone in the Land of Water knows of Saburō, his family is in charge of the mining expeditions on Dotō Island where they supply the entire land with weapons. There were too many coincidences from this interaction that did not seem right.

It’s wiser to be cautious and take preventative measures, even if they seem unnecessary, than risk grave consequences later. The moment she began looking out the window, Saburō accelerated toward the woman without hesitation. His right hand uncoiled towards her like a python with more than enough restraint to bruise the windpipe and not crush it entirely. With the gap between them no more than ten feet, and his movement soundless, he would arrive and grab the woman by her throat in less than a blink of an eye.

Had she not taken the necessary precaution to avoid such, she’d find herself in an iron grip grasped around her throat, making it challenging to breathe. But that was not all that. In that same moment he gripped her throat, he’d raise her up and use his left arm to grab her clothing near the shoulder to assist what was to come next. Immediately he flipped her into the ground behind him over his shoulders. While he did this his left hand positioned itself from gripping her shoulder all the way to her wrist. The chairs that were in that vicinity would shatter from the impact of the woman’s body going through them and miniature cracks would originate from the crash impact of her body. Saburō immediately squatted down, his left knee smacking the woman’s face and holding her down while simultaneously applying pressure to her throat. His other knee was on her midsection while he stretched her arm across his left knee putting her in hold to restrict her movement.

At the moment of the impact the entire area shook slightly as alarms set off. Not only the initial guard, but five more shinobi guards arrived within mere minutes. “You’re from Shimogakure,” he said harshly—his tone calm and collected. There was no animosity behind it despite what had occurred all those years ago. He held nothing personal against them, it was merely war. “You reek of it. And that tone that you are whistling, you’d only know it from Aōi before he was about to kill someone. He's not that bad at his job that you'd be standing here before me—alive.” The knee on her throat strengthened, “I don’t know why you’re hiding it, so go ahead and enlighten me before I end you right here.” Saburō would lift just enough to give her grace to speak and as he did the guards surrounded them in a circle, weapons drawn, giving them a distance of five feet as they allowed for Lord Saburō to handle the situation himself.​

---

 

[Dio]

He didn’t flinch when Saihō began to circle him. There was no need to. Her presence felt precise, not threatening, like the edge of a tailor’s shears gliding over fabric to test its give. Each step she took was deliberate, her heels clicking faintly against the stone as if she were pacing out a seam around them both. He didn’t bother following her with his eyes. Instead, he kept them on Aōi, partly out of instinct, partly because she gave the impression that she preferred her subjects to remain still. He could feel her measuring him. Not just his clothes but the shape of him, the quiet set of his shoulders, the way his scarf curled high over his face. She was taking in details the way a craftsman might study cloth before cutting it to fit. His fingers tightened faintly at his side as she drew closer, though not enough to be noticed. Even as her hand reached for his scarf and her fingers tested the weave, he stayed silent and unmoving. She was looking for something. He could feel it in her eyes. What she found there, he could not say.
​

“Listen little snowball… it’s far too early for someone as young as you to be so frozen. Melt a little kid. It’s okay if the fabric gets a little wet sometimes. I promise it won’t ruin the material.”​

Her words settled on him quietly. Not heavy. Not sharp. Just there, like snow falling onto still water. It took a moment for the meaning to sink in, and even then, he did not reply. He never had words ready for moments like this. So he nodded. Small. Barely noticeable. And when she rose to her full height again, the air seemed to shift as if a weight had moved on without him. Nozomi exhaled slowly behind the scarf. He wasn’t sure if she meant to unravel something in him or if she was just in the habit of saying things that sounded like they had meaning long after they passed. Either way, it lingered.

Aōi’s hand landed lightly on his head, fingers mussing his dark hair with a familiar ease. The gesture pulled Nozomi’s eyes upward for just a second, and though his expression remained composed, there was the faintest hint of a smile tucked away behind the fabric of his scarf. “C’mon kid. I’ll make it up to you later and we can go to that spice cart in the market. They got a new kimchi recipe I think you’ll like.” The mention of the market steadied him, the image of warm spices and laughter breaking the icy thread of tension he hadn’t realized he was holding. Nozomi adjusted his scarf slightly higher on his face and stepped forward to fall in line behind them. His pace was even, his footsteps quiet against the stone road as the three of them moved together toward the Mizukage Tower. Whatever awaited them there, he didn’t let himself think too far ahead. He never did. It was simpler to keep his focus small and steady, like walking a narrow path. One step at a time.

 

[Frea]

She had a hunch that the atmosphere of their conversation was starting to become an interrogation. The vibes the blonde woman got from him were someone who seemed...Annoyed. No. Curious.No. Not only that, something a lot more lines he felt that Yuihime was claiming who she wasn't, the feeling of possible deceit from her end of the bargain. Of course, naturally, she was there for business, not to make friends of any kind. Not now, not ever will she. Of course, during this time it was critical to act like a friend, someone that they'll trust, to rely on. But at this stance, this could easily mean that her Facade could be over at the hands of Lord Saburo.

Of course, from the outside perspective, there was no tension between the two, no raised suspicion between them and the others that were in the room. She felt his gaze, eyeing her up like a predator about to pounce on their prey, who was their next meal for the next few days. Even if it wasn't a head-on eye contact she could feel his annoyance, a bubbled-up rage perhaps? All she knew there was something off about the gaze. She had a hunch he would strike at any given moment, would she allow him to, or would she strike back at him? Should she engage in a battle with a renowned Shinobi who once walked upon the snowy landscape of Shimogakure, dying the snow with dark crimson red? Only she will know, for now, she observed. Despite her observing his moves as well, she couldn't help but think about that day.

That day was full of grief, full of disturbance to her mind, seeing corpses littered the pure snow, the screams of shinobis and kunoichis alike being slaughtered like animals. Yuihime can still remember the screams and the scenery. She remembered just coming out at the end of their massacre. Of course, she hid herself well so they didn't find her, in her luck they didn't even know she was there. But what she witnessed was the melody of the whistle of Aoi's whistle. It was his Death whistle that haunted her as she watched the dark-skinned shinobi slaughter her parents like cattle, with no remorse. Now coming back to the memory, she also saw the man who was before her there as well, carrying swords, though she couldn't remember their voices, or what they were saying. She hid until the pair left the land, then she escaped to tell the village head what had just happened.

She looked out the window, and though she didn't hear the sound of his movement, she did, however, feel a breeze coming towards her, which caused her head to snap back to see him reaching his right hand, which snaked around her neck like a constrictor. Yuihime's breath came out stranded, and her windpipe felt like it was about to be crushed until she could no longer breathe, it was challenging for her to breathe with his hand clenched around her throat, this took Yuihime by surprise, her body raised off the ground shook her mainly because she was quite heavy compared to the average kunoichi, her chubbiness came from her heavy diet of fish and meat from Shimo, also the excess alcohol they tend to consume. She knew she had to act fast, counteract his actions, but what would that do other than cause more chaos to ensue? She felt her body going over her shoulder and then her back going through the chairs, which shattered upon impact, She had also hit the ground hard, causing her head to bang against the floor beneath the cracks formed the result, her head began to bleed but she wasn't worried or focused on it. She did notice the folks around them caused commotion between them; some were shocked, others gossiped, and others ran out.

She felt a knee smacking against her face, which caused some bruising and bleeding from her nose and mouth. How brutal to treat a guest. Her arm being forcefully stretched out and his weight pressed on there made her want to wince and scream in pain, though she didn't allow a peep of scream nor her face change from her stoic expression, she just looked at him expressionless. She was restricted on what she could do, being held captive like a rabbit captured by a boa constrictor waiting to eat them alive. She heard alarms going off in the background, she drowned them out as she focused on the Yuki male talking, which made her eyes roll to find a way out of his grasp. Her throat being mishandled by him meant she couldn't respond to his questions. Is this how they regularly interrogate people? They haven't changed one bit from Yuihime's perspective.
​

Guards surrounded them with their weapons, seeing how Saburo was taking care of things, they didn't do much other than remain on standby. Saburo's knee lifted off her neck just enough that she could speak, to breathe momentarily. She took a breath as she spoke ever so croakily, just enough for the man to hear her responses to him.​

"You are correct, I am from Shimogakure."

She took a moment to gain another breath.

"Yes, I was there that day. I was hiding, but I did see and hear the whistle as he killed my parents. I hid it, because..I wasn't sure if folks still had something against us. I only came here for a better life."

She thought this was the end of her right here, how disappointing for her to go by asphyxiation; however, she flickered her eyes to her right arm, and it was still free. She had decided to do some hand seals with her right hand in a breeze, and her hair immediately shot everywhere, her hair forming into spears some guards were impaled by her hair, and the main bit of her hair focused on Saburo as it was directed to the right side of his chest. If it did impale him, in theory, it should make him lose his grip, enough for her to escape the hold he had on her, but also give her the option to use her now-free limbs as an advantage. She saw blood dying on the mizukage's floor a crimson red as some of the guards had been impaled by her sharp hair. If she was going to die, at least she got to put up a fight ,right?

 

[Kami]

---

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 others thought or translating his soul so others would understand. This is to come to the point that he would not be unjust to this woman if it did not require it. Regardless of whether she was from Shimogakure or not. He had no prejudice against those people, it was merely his duty to carry out those tasks. No ill-will, which is why he was capable of hearing the woman.

He listened to her words carefully, so did the rest of the guards that surrounded them. Her response was well said, although Saburō couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. Not only that, but what bothered him the most was that the woman saw Aōi kill her parents, she must carry some sort of vengeance. It would only be natural, right? Saburō did not care for much but he does care for his cousin—perhaps because of their relationship growing during their mission. So something, unsure what exactly, felt off to him. It wasn’t until the woman began to form single-hand hand seals that forced Saburō into more severe measures.

One thing that elevates Saburō over other shinobi is his incredible reaction time. Chakra sensory was one thing but to be fine-tuned and to be able to react to non-chakra movements and actions brought him to an entirely other level. Before the woman could even finish her second hand seal within her set, Saburō began to exert enough pressure on her neck for her to pass out within two seconds. Not die, simply go to sleep. However, he was unsure of her capabilities and from the moment she began formulating her first hand seal, Saburō had begun instinctively sensing her chakra. Were she capable of still finishing her attack within the allotted time before passing out, she’d find that it would not come into fruition as she had hoped.

These shinobi were not regular. They guarded the Mizukage Tower, which meant they were all respectively talented shinobi. Were she capable of still managing to bring her technique to fruition despite her hand seals being interrupted by the massive weight on her neck, Saburō would easily evade by sensing her chakra as her hair shot towards the right side of his chest by slightly rotating his upper body. This would in turn also force even more pressure on her throat and restrict even more blood flow to the brain, forcing her to find unconsciousness even quicker than originally.

The shinobi that surrounded them would easily evade the strands of hair as well by moving one way or another, while some even parried the strands of hair with their blades. “Alright, come get her.” Saburō said aloud to the guards as he stood up and turned his back to her, only after verifying her unconscious state. Two guards would rush up to her and place regular handcuffs on the woman with her arms behind her back. Both guards would then raise her and wrap their arms around her and begin escorting off before any more visitors. The woman would presumably be taken to the detention center until further questioning, that was, if everything went without a hiccup. In the meantime, Saburō would assume another location in the lobby as Ai, the receptionist, would run out and look at the damage. "WHAT HAPENED HERE?!?!"​

---

 

[STORY]

THWIP

Before Saburō and the woman was a thin line, hardly visible. The line was a piece of thread, pulled tautly threaded through the end of a very large needle that found itself stuck into a wall, treating the hard surface as little more than a pin cushion. Tracing the thread the opposite direction found it secured in the soft hands of the (arguably) best seamstress, Saihō.

"You shouldn't be handling Snowflake's secret mistress like that Ice cup. Nothing worse than family at each other's throats over a lover."

Having been traveling with the sensei-student pair only made her think how similar the two were even more. It was a walk that was largely filled with silence, silence that had been broken repeatedly by her here and there. Finally reaching the Mizukage Tower they're met with the scene of Saburō engaged with a woman, one that wasn't entirely unfamiliar to the group. Sucking her teeth, the seamstress retrieved the large needle that had been tucked at her back, in one single motion Nuibari flew like a javelin, the massive needle threaded through the air. The tautly pulled string hung as both a physical and a figurative line, one that the Yuki was not meant to cross further than where they were.

"Hey you. Over here, chop chop."

She called to one of the individuals that had been there. Like the other six, Saihō was a recognizable name and face. For those few who didn't know who she was or what she looked like...well they were perhaps fools in her eyes, but there would be none who couldn't recognize the blade she wielded. The scene before her was like a sewing kit with fabric, needles and yarn scattered everywhere; a total mess. She needed to organize it a bit. The person she had called for was one of the shinobi who worked in the tower. Noticing who it was calling for them, they stiffened and rushed to stand before her.

"Hey so, gimme the rundown. Why's everyone acting like they're wearing clothes several times too small and tight? So high strung."

Like with Aōi, she had hooked her arm around the shinobi, pulling the man in close as she spoke to him, Nuibari's thread still wrapped around her hand. The man stammered and clamored on, regaling her with the story of what he knew of the present incident. She nodded, and hmmed, and ahhhed before finally releasing him from her hold.

"Got it, thanks. Oh, and do yourself a favor, ditch whatever store you go to for clothes. You're cheapening yourself with that stuff. The princess should be paying you enough to at least get something a little more decent."

Smacking them on their back thrice with a laugh she begins walking towards the two subjects of much attention.

"Hey, Ice cup. Do me a favor and let the girl go. She's spoken for and besides...horrible taste in cloaks. Trust me, cheap material, ugly color, a true travesty."

Again, she seemed to make light of the situation, throwing another playful jab of the woman being some secret, mysterious lover of Aōi's. Despite this she was clearly no fool. No, she was a professional, a master class seamstress. She couldn't recklessly push a needle through fabric all willy nilly and hope to produce gold. No, every thread needed to be in its proper place, the needle needed to pass through seamlessly, carefully. It needed a steady hand, patience, an eye for detail. The woman before them was fabric placed in the wrong bin, so...they needed to figure out how it got there, and why was it placed there. Last thing they needed was being held responsible for damaging another's merchandise.

 

[Aōi]

Much of the walk alongside his charge was quiet, yet never awkward. Ironically the first thing that the ninja seemed to have imparted unto Nozomi was building an understanding of those he spent the most time with. An oddly well-matched pair, who required very little words to communicate, with the senior being unusually more talkative than the junior. Whether it was out of a strong bond or a need to be caught up on his current events, the elite shinobi took keen care of his genin given to him to temper and tutor. Aōi walked with his hands in his pockets and his plastic bag slung around his wrist, the wind swaying the remaining fruit within the vessel.

The ice blue hues made their way around the change in architecture, the low rise buildings of the market bazaar, quickly transformed into the tall, busy business buildings of the downtown core. The elder and the younger Snow walked in step behind the seamstress, who sauntered gracefully but with a certain speed to her step. He wondered what the urgency was in getting to the office, she never seemed to care to be punctual before. Upon their arrival, a crowd was beginning to form just outside of the main entrance to the building with a number of ninja and clerks alike joining to bear witness to what had just taken place. With all the gathering of bodies, he somehow momentarily lost Saihō in the crowd but when he realized this, he placed a firm hand on Nozomi’s shoulder and helped guide him through the mass swell of interested individuals. “What’s all the excitement about…? The day just started.” he wondered.
​

“Stay close.” he said audibly through the growing crowd noise.​

It would only take but a few short moments later that he would find the cause of the event. After managing to assert himself in the crowd standing firmly behind his genin, his eyes immediately panned to the giant needle stuck in the wall. “Hm. Okay…” he thought, requiring little explanation he knew Saihō was instantly involved. He then let his hues wander once more to find the woman that was on the ground being raised to her feet by the working shinobi stationed within the building. They held her tightly as they raised her to her feet, but once she had gotten to her full frame he recognized her as the blonde from the bar earlier. His eyes then squinted as he also saw his cousin Saburō Yuki was also in the building, oddly with dust on his normally well kept clothes. “What…the hell is going on over there…?” he wondered again.

The shinobi then turned to another ninja in the crowd next to him adorned with a flak jacket and forehead protector much like himself.
​

“What went on here?” Aōi asked simply. The ninja performed a double take when he realized whom he was talking to. “Oh shit, Aōi! I didn’t see you there. Uh, it was weird, Saburō just kinda seemed to take this girl down unprovoked. It looked like they were having an innocent enough conversation but I’m not sure why exactly it went sour…Though, she did hum or whistle that tune you like. I only remember it from that one mission where…”​

The ninja went on to explain further in his story but Aōi’s face visibly went blank as his mind instantly receded back to that frigid memory that left a strong mark on the shinobi. He ignored every word that came after the ninja’s brief explanation…

Flashbacks of hot blood splattering across the cold canvas, bodies dropping like flies with no threats made, just cold and aggressive intent met with some cries of innocence but were drowned out by guilty pleas of life to be spared which fell on deaf ears as the Hyojin Pair walked the rogue ninja down to death row. Steel clashed against ice and ice clashed against steel until nothing but the shattered remains of weaponry littered the once village now turned battlefield. A shiver could be felt if Nozomi had paid any attention to his teacher, however the jonin would manage to snap himself back to reality.
​

“Man…that mission was something, wasn’t it?!” When he finally finished, he was clearly unaware that Aōi not only hadn't been listening but suffered a minor panic attack when he delivered that information to him.​

He would lead himself away from his genin and crowd to find a less cluttered area as he caught his breath, sitting on a low flight of staircase breathing heavily as he would quickly go through heat flashes and unwillingly perspire. His dreaded mop obscured his face from view as he massaged his temples with both thumbs while he held his hair out of his eyes looking down at the ground. He was slowly calming down.
​

“...I know that woman.” was all he uttered. He just spoke candidly mostly to himself to soothe and fortify his mind once more. “I murdered her family…” he thought. He still wrestled with feelings he had long since buried.​

Saihō was busy at work taking charge of the unique outburst, trying to quell everyone present into going back to their regular duties while also trying to subdue Saburo from making any further moves against the detained kunoichi. She could be found being taken away via the guards towards their detainment centre, quickly being led off out of the building to part unbeknownst to regular ninja. Their eyes met briefly once again, as he watched her be taken away.

He heard Saihō address his cousin, ‘Ice Cup’, having continued her previous suggestion of the woman who was taken away as his concubine. Still reeling from his brief panic episode, he was in no shape to fight back against her ridiculous notion as anyone who would lay their eyes on Aōi could see that he was not well. After a few more short moments, he would stand back up to his full frame and look to the cracked marble crater from where Yuihime was taken down. He then walked over past Saihō and the lord of Doto Island and grazed his hand across it as if he were investigating something, running his fingers along the cracked seams and various rubble and shrapnel caused from the impact.
​

“I recognized her face, Saburō. I wasn’t aware anyone from that time still lived.” he said with his back still turned, hunched over as he pinched the grains of gravel between his finger tips. “She probably still carries a grudge…But time…has a way of changing people.” he finished, dropping the grains before standing back up again and turning back towards the two. “Even I've changed. If only a little bit.”​

​

 

[Dio]

Nozomi didn’t follow Aōi into the Tower.

He lingered just outside, letting the door ease shut with a faint thud that muffled the commotion inside. From where he stood, the low murmur of a restless crowd still carried in the air. Shinobi and civilians alike hovered around the steps, voices sharp with curiosity and unease, their eyes flicking to the entrance as if waiting for something more dramatic to spill out. Nozomi adjusted the scarf around his face, the gesture calm and deliberate, and then stepped forward onto the first landing.

“Nothing to worry about,” he said softly to no one in particular. His voice was quiet but clear, just enough for those closest to hear. The words weren’t commanding. They weren’t meant to be. Just steady. A few shinobi glanced his way, caught off guard by his composure, but one or two nodded and began to echo his reassurance with firmer voices. Slowly, like water retreating from stone, the crowd began to thin. People were peeling away in small groups, muttering to each other as they left. Nozomi stayed where he was, his hands resting lightly on the straps of his pouch. He didn’t push anyone. Didn’t raise his voice. He simply stood, quiet and unyielding, and the presence alone seemed enough to settle some nerves.

A flicker of movement inside the Tower caught his eye. Through the glass doorframes, he saw Saihō’s silhouette first—fluid and deliberate, her posture impossibly relaxed even as she directed the scene like a weaver threading a tangled loom. A flash of steel and thread marked Nuibari’s presence, unmistakable even from this distance. Then Aōi came into view, his shoulders set but his gait heavier than usual. Nozomi’s eyes lingered briefly, taking in the subtle tension in his sensei’s movements, but he didn’t dwell on it. This wasn’t his place to intervene. Whatever was happening in there wasn’t meant for Genin hands.

He exhaled lightly through the scarf, a faint mist curling in the air before fading. One last glance swept over the steps and the remaining onlookers. Only a few lingered now, mostly shinobi ensuring the area stayed secure. Nozomi adjusted his stance slightly, settling into the kind of stillness that felt like waiting without impatience. He's been on a few missions in the past like this, standing at the entrance of the busy Water Theme Park in Kirigakure to ensure safety and lines not become overcrowded. This was no different to now, stepping up amidst the chaos so things do not escalate. After all, Aōi and Saihō are here.

 

[Frea]

The thing was, her attack would’ve been successful if she hadn’t been in a predicament of Yuki’s males' breath play on her, choking her not to the point of her being dead, but enough for her to make her go into submission. Though would it be that easy to make her easily defeated without a fight?. No. In fact with her free hand as her other arm was restrained by Saburo, her chakra flowed through her with an instant there was more pressure built on her neck causing her to fight even more harder, to try and get some air she desperately craved for. Her hair shot out like spears, though it wasn’t as fast as she hoped it was.

The thing was, her hair spears were easily avoided due to lack of concentration on her focus. Saburo himself dodged with ease, causing him to place pressure even more. The guards also had dodged or defended themselves with their swords, shredding the hair that came to them or even just moving off to the side. This irradiated Yuihime as she rarely ever missed her jutsu? But today? That was the day her attack didn’t go to plan.

Her body was beginning to shut down, her mind being depraved of air caused her consciousness to drift in and out, her eyes blurred as she struggled to see. All she saw was one…person coming in, could they be her rescue? Perhaps not. She heard the voice, it was familiar. The voice was the woman from the bar, she tried to move her lips to speak though not even a mutter fell out of the mouth. Yuihimes unconsciousness kicked in, she passed out due to lack of air going through her. Her body became limp, like if she did die, though it wasn’t the case she was still very alive just knocked out.

All her thoughts gathered into her head, did she let down her parents? Did she even let down the village by failing the mission? Perhaps this was the end of her? She may never know, but one thing for sure: despite being knocked out her hearing was still somewhat audible, she could hear muffled voices of people coming in and out, in her inner turmoil had been coming in and trying to wake her body up. Was there any hope? Would she be healed or perhaps the Hyojin pair kill her after being recovered? That is to left decided by not only the Mizukage, but down to Aoi or Saburo as well.
​

 

[Kami]

---

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 origin. With his emotionless expression still painted across his face, his eyes fixated upon the Seamstress as he observed her before the guards came to collect the woman he had subdued. She’d find relief only when Saburō removed his knee and the guards wrapped their arms around the woman to bring her to feet.

He glanced towards Saihō and Aōi as they began to question what had been going on here—which was peculiar since neither of them asked him what had happened. Saburō brushed it under the rug just as he dusted the dust off his clothes. He paid immaculate attention to the process ensuring not a single formation of dust remained on his expensive clothes. While he did that, he overheard the conversation that took place between his cousin and the shinobi guard, and from where it was headed, Saburō knew what would come next. This was something he could not relate to. While Saburō could fake empathy, the void inside him did not let him truly understand the emotions that Aōi is plagued by from the War. And so he let him be.

While Aōi would take a moment to catch his breath, Saburō watched the woman as she was taken away by several guards. There was something peculiar about the woman that he hadn’t quite grasped which left him hungry for information. “Make sure to look for her husband,” he said to the guard that passed by. “She mentioned he was also from here. If that's true, maybe it'll help find out more about her.” The guard nodded as he followed behind the others. By that time, Aōi had rejoined them—walking past both Saburō and Saihō, his memory would walk down a path that it had attempted to forget. “Perhaps.” he responded icily, one could tell by his tone he was not fully convinced. “But you never really know and it's better to be cautious than take unnecessary risk” Saburō would finish off the sentence by patting Aōi on the shoulder, a learned gesture to hopefully bring his cousin some comfort and support.​

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