Land of Wind

[ZimTheInvader]

Seijūrō sat upon his chair, thoughtfully watching those around him and listening intently to the words being spoken. It was clear to him that the kind and wise elder, Granny Ryo, cared deeply for Maboshi, and it was a scene that Seijūrō could really appreciate. He had been quiet since finishing his earlier reply, as he focused on those around him, while inside his mind he went over the older woman's words, drilling the wisdom she had given to him into his mind.

This would go on to keep Seijūrō preoccupied for the most part. That was until he heard the ding, and Granny Ryo suddenly left the room, only to return moments later with treats for the genin. The scent of the sweet spice of cinnamon wafted through the hut; the scent was warm and inviting. It made the orange-haired boy stand up and approach—something that the silent Tsuno had beat him to already. The closer Seijūrō got to the treats, the more enticing the smell. Upon reaching the tray, he took one of the cakes and gave Granny Ryo a quick, courteous bow.

"Thank you for the treats, ma'am. They smell delicious."

Seijūrō would take his cake and return to his seat before taking a hearty bite of the delicious, sweet treat. The flavors of the Dune Cake were something else. He had to take time to savor it, even though his body simply wanted him to devour them all. He wouldn't eat too many, though, as he wanted to leave some for the rest—but if they didn't take their share, he'd most likely be going for seconds and even thirds soon.

 

[STORY]

"Lets see, do any of these little snots come from money?"

A strained airy voice, filtered through some manner of apparatus grumbles and plots, Thoughts that should remain unspoken, are instead voiced aloud, though thankfully they seemed to go unnoticed within the fuss of the busy village. Slightly hunched over with cane in hand, a hooded male works his way through Sunagakure. From posture and grumbling, he seemed like an old man. While this was the normal consensus regarding his age, the fact that the skin that could be seen was absent of wrinkle and spots, signatures of the elderly caused many to question if it was not in fact a younger man with some type of odd speaking habit. Perhaps he walked with a cane and hid his face due to some deformity? Or maybe he was from a prominent clan somewhere, and needed to cover his appearance. Could he be a criminal on the run? Or, perhaps he was involved in some type of illicit affair and was in hiding!

The number of rumors and theories regarding the Shinobi were plentiful, and constantly growing. He reached into his hooded cloak and began rummaging around, breathing heavily, his sighs of annoyance intensified thanks to the apparatus he wore. He leaned in to stare at the writing on the paper then looked up, staring out into the distance. Raising his cane, he brings it down as he takes a step forward, his body vanishing from that point, sand on the ground shifting from the spot he had once stood at.

As the young Genin stood atop the Kage building looking out into the village below, at the world and prospects that lay before him, a voice would speak out from next to him.

"Yea, lots of money to be made down there."

Gazing out alongside the young man, was he hooded shinobi. Leaning away from the edge he turned towards the boy and stared down at the sheet of paper in his hand. Murmuring to himself "Lets see" and "-Maen Clan" He lowers the paper and stares at the boy for a few moments.

"So, from the Maen clan huh? Your family must have some money huh?"

He asked, bringing his index finger and thumb together, indicating money. While it was impossible to tell his age range from his voice, what was notable was the sound of greed in it.

"At least more than the other two we've got to go pick up. Tch, stingy Kage, sticking me with this kinda task."

As if forgetting he was addressing a Genin assigned to him, he turns and begins walking towards the other end of the building in preparation to descend and locate the other two on the list given to him. Perhaps he expected the young man to follow behind him, assuming he was informed of the arrangement like the others. Or, perhaps he didn't care one way or another. After all, money and things that made him money were the only things that truly mattered.

"Seijūrō and...Kuromai. Both don't seem like they come from any money. GAH! CURSE YOU AMAISA!!"

He swore, raising and shaking his cane in the air, heading towards a direction he believed would take him to at least one of the other genin, if not both of them.

 

[Eros]

Yūta blinked, still rubbing the faint red mark where Fukuro had jabbed him awake, when a gravelly voice broke through the rooftop’s lazy silence. He shifted slightly, narrowing his eyes at the hooded stranger who had appeared beside him, speaking as if money and names were more important than the actual people they belonged to.

“Money, huh?” Yūta muttered, his tone flat, not amused. He sat up straighter, resting his elbows on his knees while Fukuro fluttered to perch on his shoulder. The owl’s sharp gaze stayed fixed on the man, feathers ruffling with unease.

“The Maen clan doesn’t have much in the way of riches, if that’s what you’re after,” Yūta said finally, voice steady but with a faint edge of irritation. “My family doesn’t count wealth in coins. Not the kind you’re thinking of, anyway.”

His words weren’t defensive, but they carried weight. He’d grown up knowing whispers of his clan’s oddness—how others painted them in mystery because they didn’t flaunt themselves like the more prominent families. Yūta himself didn’t mind; he liked being underestimated. But the way this man spoke, measuring worth in Ryo and possessions, struck a nerve. When the hooded shinobi barked curses at the Kazekage and rattled off names of other Genin, Yūta rose to his feet, brushing sand from his clothes. He didn’t make a move to immediately follow but called out after him, his tone sharp.

“If all you care about is money, you’re going to have a hard time working with me you geezer!”
For a moment, the boy’s amber eyes caught the man’s shadow as it stretched across the rooftop. Yūta’s lips curved into the faintest of smirks. “But if you care about results... then maybe we can talk.”

Fukuro gave a low, throaty hoot as if punctuating his partner’s words, before stretching his wings wide against the morning sun. He moved behind the man ever so closely recognizing that he was not to take lightly, As a member of the Maen Clan it was known to never judge a book by its cover and Yuta was someone who followed that principle a bit because he knew even in the face of assassinations deception was key and this was only a deceiving moment for him. He followed the man carefully and watched his every movement to see where he was heading too, eventually it could be something which helped his boredom in some way form.

.

 

[STORY]

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The cane assisted the man, or at least it seemed to, as he trudged through Suna's streets. Muffled incoherent words were escaping him, impossible to actually discern. This continued the duration of his travel. The hooded man, never once peered behind him to confirm if the child left under his charge was following him, simply walking away at a steady pace. He maneuvered through the streets with little regard to his surroundings, never voicing exactly where he was heading. The further he traveled, the scarcer people became in this particular area, a collection of humble looking sand huts serving as a neighborhood. His head turns as he looks around, huffing loudly all the while.

The man comes before a door, his steps finally coming to a stop indicating he had arrived at his destination. Just, exactly where had he taken them? He lifted his cane to knock on the door but stopped. "Listen here brat. The Kage cares about results, I care about money. If you have none or can't make me any you're all but useless to me." He grumbled, never looking back as he addressed the child. For a shinobi, especially one meant to lead a team, he seemed hardly reliable or trustworthy. "Succeed or fail. Live or die, do whatever. I'm just doing the job I'm paid to do, my pay will always equal my efforts and results. Never forget-" He finally turns to glance over his shoulder. "-money makes the world go round."

BAM

BAM

BAM!!!

Using his cane he beats on the humble looking door like a madman before its finally forced open by his aggressive efforts. He welcomes himself in, peering around into the room at a group of kids and a familiar old woman. Seeing her he can't help but suck his teeth in annoyance. Turning away from her he looks from child to child, tapping the head of his cane with his index finger.

"You, and You. You penniless brats are with me and this other penniless little snot."

He points his cane to the child known as Seijūrō and Kuromai before sweeping it over to point at Yūta. Clearly they were all meant to be a genin team and he, their Jōnin sensei, but this was all so sudden and he didn't seem to care to introduce himself to them or them to each other. His cane lands back on the ground with a tap, turning sharply towards the old woman.

"....and don't make a fuss about the door. I made sure to not damage it....but, my bad I suppose. I was in a rush you see ahem."

Despite the fact he seemed to be completely selfish, caring only for monetary wealth and gain he at the very least, seemed to try to show a modicum of respect towards the elder. The reason behind this was certainly strange, and equally unknown by most people. He turns away from her promptly, not eager to linger around here for a moment longer.

"Lets go brats, I'm not getting paid any extra for loitering around here. Talk among yourselves as we move on from here."

Once more on the move he maneuvers past the young Maen, his cane tapping away once more. Like before, he says nothing regarding where he was going or why, merely moving with the expectation that they would follow. If they chose not to, well...that was hardly his problem, now was it?

"Now, how soon am I allowed to have these brats take missions. The sooner the better, I could use some kickbacks to help even out the stress and annoyance of this job. Hardly worth the pay I'm getting now."

He grumbled, plotting on how best to exploit the children for monetary gain. Just why had he, of all shinobi been chosen to train and care for the next generation of shinobi?

 

[Erebus]

Though still heavy hearted, Maboshi indulged in the delicious treats before them. Stacking his plate with several cakes before he began stuffing his mouth, a look of elation flushed over his face as the taste seemed to jut melt in his mouth. Bite after bite caused his cakes to vanish into his mouth, his scarf hiding the crumbs that were sprinkled around his mouth.

Bam

BAM

BAM!!!
Nearly choking, he is caught off guard by the loud banging, nearly falling out his seat when the door is flung open. He stares at the weird hooded man with a cane waltzing into the house. He looked towards Granny Ryō before back at the oddly dressed man.

"You, and You. You penniless brats are with me and this other penniless little snot."

Maboshi looked towards Kuromai and Seijūrō as the weirdly dressed man points towards them with his cane. Just what was going on? Who was this weirdo and what did he want with them? Preparing to question the man who barged into the matriarch's home a gentle hand on his shoulder stops him.

"Ohoho, I suppose we'll leave it at that then. Just be sure to handle the children well, they are our future after all."

Maboshi looked from the man to Granny Ryō then back to the man even more confused. Despite his rudeness he seemed strangely respectful to the matriarch who also seemed unbothered by his actions. Plus, she didn't seem to be trying to stop him, so...was he not a bad guy after all?

"Uh, Granny Ryō, who's the weird guy? Someone you know?"

He stared back at the shinobi, that same gentle hand merely resting on his shoulder, the kind elder having said nothing in response. Maboshi looked at the other guys with them. While they couldn't look into his eyes because of his visors, what his face did show, spoke his worry and concern. They hadn't known each other long but, they had supported him, despite knowing nothing, and not even knowing him, they went along with his whims.

It was...nice.

"Good luck..."

Was all he could manage to mutter within his scarf.​

 

[Eren]

The sudden shift in the room was anything but subtle—the loud thud and slam of the door announced the masked man’s arrival with a force that silenced every whisper. Oddly enough, he carried with him a scent that clung like a second skin, one that could only be described as the smell of money. His nose was keen, attuned to the faintest traces of others’ essences. If someone’s nature was strong enough, he could catch it as a lingering fragrance—something born not of perfume or sweat, but of the source within them. In other words, chakra. To him, each person carried a signature scent tied to who they were at their core. And in this case, he could have sworn the man reeked of money—not just coins or notes, but the very materials that made them, raw and metallic, earthy and rich.

..........................?

The child’s expression was that of a startled deer caught in sudden light, his body stiff and unyielding. The masked man walked in with no ceremony, his presence alone commanding attention. With a simple gesture, he pointed out those who would be part of his squad for the upcoming mission, his words sharp and final. Then, just as abruptly, he turned and left, vanishing from the room in the same breath that carried his commands - with the chosen.

BLAM

..................
The boy remained frozen for a moment longer, his posture like that of a frightened cat, tense and rigid, before he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Relief washed over him the instant the figure was gone.


“What was THAT!?” he thought in disbelief, his mind reeling even as his hands reached instinctively for another cake. The sweet taste grounded him, though his thoughts still lingered on the encounter—almost as if he was side-eyeing the remaining members.

 

[LucianRedgrave]

Lost in thought as he watched his new found compatriots consume the baked goods granny made for them. Kuromai’s brain just couldn’t dig itself out of the mindless rambling that was his calculative thoughts. The only thing that broke his concentration as they all seemed to settle in was the rap of something at the door. The aggressive tone even amongst the sandy walls was something that couldn’t go ignored as it almost caused him to be startled in the moment. He went from calculating to on edge easily likened to the notion of someone throwing water on a sleeping person.

Bam

BAM

BAM!!!

Every one of them seemed to be caught off guard in the moment only to collect themselves moments later. The expression on Maboshi’s face at the mans exclamation only prompted a shrug of Kuromai’s shoulder as even he wasn’t exactly sure as to what was going on. Maybe the Kazekage assigned them a jonin while they fussed about within the village and this man was supposed to be that. Although the man calling them all penniless seemed to strike a nerve that Kuromai didn’t even expect. His brows were knit underneath his crimson mask even as he viewed it through the eyes of another. There was just something about the idea that they were merely entities trained for labor that rubbed him the wrong way. Kuromai’s attention turned to Maboshi giving him a curt nod in response to the clear sense of unease in his disposition.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, right?” His tone was somber but the machinations of his brain knew better than to simply trust the hooded man. He hadn’t even given his name, let alone told them anything beyond the fact that he was tasked with taking them along with him for missions. Kuromai’s original form had been observed from a serviceable distance even prior to this but he couldn’t quite put his thumb on what exactly it was about this whole situation. They had come this far chasing down Maboshi’s father and the other adults just to be shackled to a geezer in a dirty pillow case? He let out a heavy sigh even as things began to play out. Surely there was more to the story they were going to write than being money pigs for the figure in question.

 

[ZimTheInvader]

Seijūrō had just finished eating last dune cake, and it was lucky that he had finished as mere seconds after he heard the sound of what would be a future annoyance for him. The sound came from outside as he heard three loud strikes upon the door.

Bam

BAM

BAM!!!
Followed by the door flying open to reveal a strangely dressed, obnoxious shinobi, who, from the way he sounded and carried himself, seemed to be rather old, though due to the coverings it was hard to tell. His sudden and aggressive entrance caught Seijūrō off-guard, as he found himself and Kuromai being singled out by the man, who told them to follow him. At that, Seijūrō wasn't sure what the man was actually there for, but he had an idea, and it was not one he relished, as he began to think this might be his new sensei.

Seijūrō, while still a little shocked by the suddenness of everything, stood up and bowed to Granny Ryo and Maboshi. "Thank you for the food, ma'am. Oh, and Maboshi, I'll see you later," said Seijūrō in a calm and respectful manner before following the man and Kuromai outside, doing his best to ignore the money-grubbing jōnin's comments, as to Seijūrō they really didn't matter.

 

[Eros]

Yūta followed in silence at first, the rhythmic tap…tap…tap of the cane echoing off the narrow streets as the hooded man led them deeper into Sunagakure. Fukuro rode his shoulder without a sound, head tilting every so often as if studying the strange mannerisms of the one they were meant to follow. The man’s words about money still lingered in Yūta’s ears, rubbing against him like sand in a wound.

By the time they reached the old hut, Yūta’s amber eyes had grown sharper, his guard higher. He stood just behind as the cane hammered against the door with a madness that startled even him. When the old woman appeared, he caught himself stiffening slightly—though the hooded man’s uncharacteristic restraint in front of her didn’t go unnoticed. That detail, small as it was, sparked curiosity. But curiosity wasn’t enough to cover annoyance.

When the cane swung from Seijūrō to Kuromai, then finally to him. Of course there was another genin within the confines of the hut. Yūta crossed his arms. His jaw tightened as the man casually threw them all together like pieces of merchandise.

“Penniless, huh…” Yūta muttered under his breath, his voice carrying just enough to be heard if anyone cared to listen. “Funny how you talk about money like it’s the only thing worth measuring. Guess that’s why you’ve got nothing else to show for yourself but that cane and a bad attitude.”

Fukuro gave a sharp, low hoot in agreement, wings ruffling as if seconding his partner’s jab.

Still, Yūta didn’t move to leave. He didn’t back down either. He simply fell in step with the group, amber eyes flicking toward the other two genin—Seijūrō and Kuromai—measuring them in silence. They were strangers for now, but if this team was truly happening, they were the ones he’d need to rely on… not the greedy fool grumbling about “kickbacks” in front of them.

“Guess this is what we’re stuck with,” Yūta muttered again, more to himself this time. A small smirk tugged at his lips, not of amusement, but of defiance. “Fine. If he wants results, he’ll get them. Just don’t expect me to play along with his little obsession over money.”

And with that, the young Maen adjusted the strap of his pouch and started walking, shadowing the man’s steps but on his own terms.

 

[STORY]

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Mawaru continued walking along, no sense of urgency as he moved. He showed no response to Yūta's words about al he had to show for himself. Was it because he hadn't heard him? Or he didn't care about what had been said? As they trudged through the village there were sounds of chatter around them and near them, people moving and mingling yet for the genin, they seemed otherwise silent, distant from one another despite being told to mingle. A newly formed team, two of them somewhat recently familiar with one another, yet divided all the same.
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Mawaru does nothing to try and bring them closer together, at least he hasn't so far. He simply walks through the village, venturing deeper, further. Homes becoming more sparse and distant, as the hustle and bustle of the village grows quieter the further they venture from the livelier areas within the Hidden Sand.

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"Here should do."

He finally speaks and comes to a stop. The area they find themselves in appears deserted, uninhabited with buildings left to be renovated or perhaps torn down.

"Alright ya little snots. Before we can get anything done we need some information so, start by beating each other up."

He leans onto his cane staring at them, the white of the eyes on his hood showing a shape of disinterest. Even his manner of speech lacked any actual energy. It could be inferred that he wanted them to spar with one another so he could assess their abilities and they could get a glimpse of what they were each capable of but...was that truly it? This man after all, didn't seem the most reliable.

"Hurry up now, haven't got all day. Time is money, which means I'm going broke wasting time here."

As always, the man was a miser. Ever focused on wealth, despite his appearance that would lead one to believe he greatly lacked it. He teetered back and forth on the cane, waiting patiently-impatiently on the rugrat trio to begin.