A burden [Open]

[Akira Kazan]

There he sat, quiet and alone. Before him was a bar, beside him was other customers, and right in front of him was six empty bottles, four shot glasses, and a glass filled to the rim with beer. The foam had begun to slide off the side of the cup, as he grabbed it by it's handle and began to drink. His mind had been clouded lately, most likely due to his extended stay within the cloud village no doubt. "The more I stay here, the more I don't want to leave." He thought to himself, as he gulped down his drink and slammed the cup to the table. "I need another, please." He told the bartender, who at this point decided not to oblige him. "Buddy, I'm gonna have to cut you off. You've been putting them down all night." He told Sairasu, only before grabbing the glasses and putting them into the sink behind him. "I'm far from drunk... tipsy, yes.. but drunk, no. Why?" He asked the bartender.

"Because, I'm not the type of person who wants to make a profit off others misery." The bartender stated. "Is it that obvious?" Asked Sairasu, before leaning forward and putting his head into his folded arms on the table. "I see a lot of people come and go, but pain is one thing I'll never forget. Whats bothering you?" Asked the bartender. "You are aware that the Hidden Mist Village no longer exsist? Or more so, it's frozen over and abandoned... that was my home and now, I work as a mercenary. My friends, family... everythings gone now, and I can't solve any of this..." He stated, easily opening up to this random stranger. "Why not join another village? You can make new friends, build a new family. Your loneliness would be solved." He told Sairasu, as he continued cleaning the glasses.

"The Mist Village made me. I was nothing but a farmers son before the village brought me into it's academy and trained me. When I suffered, it healed me. When I needed something, it supplied me with a means to obtain it. Everything I had, and everything I have now, is because of the Mist Village. Who am I to betray the village, even if it doesn't exist? My heart belongs to the Mist. I belong to the Mist. It was my everything, and now it's my only thing. I'd much rather die now than continue on and forget about the memories and bonds I formed within the Mist. I simply can't join another village. My brethren have, but my heart still stays true to the Mist. I am still loyal to the Mist. I can't." He stated, with pain obviously in his voice. "Well, then I don't know what to tell you, but that seats for paying customers. You need to be on your way here soon." He told him, before turning back to him and nodding towards the door.

Pulling out his wallet, he laid some money and a tip on the table in front of him and got up, only to stumble out the door. His eyes were glossy, and it was obvious that he had been drinking not only from his eyes, but the way that his feet stumbled. Making it only a short distance down the road, he sat down beside a building and watched as people walked by. He looked rough, as if he had been in one hell of a battle; truth be told, mentally he had been. What was going to happen to him? Maybe there was someone who could make him feel better.

[Wc: 605] [Marked]

 

[Miraku]

Raku was sitting in the back of some bar in the Susukino District after a few drinks and some food he had got to satisfy his hunger after a long training session that had pretty much exhausted him. Currently there weren't too many people in the bar, so it wasn't too loud, and he was able to overhear most of the things going on. Trying to mind his own business, he didn't pay much attention to the things going on in the place because he usually preferred to maintain his solitude. He was merely out for some food and drinks; listening in on other people or bothering to care about what was going on around him during his peaceful break wasn't something he really intended at all. Sitting at his little table in the back by himself, he had just finished the food he was eating, but still had half his drink left, so he wasn't going anywhere just yet. Even though he tried not to listen, he could clearly hear someone talking to the bartender, but his attention still wasn't on the words they were speaking, as he glanced towards them.

Try as he might, his ears couldn't help but pick up the conversation as the words 'Hidden Mist' were spoken by the man talking to the bartender. Raku hadn't heard those words in a while, but it was his home. According to the conversation, it was also this other mans home. As his hair drifted down in front of his face slightly, he raised a hand, his fingers threading between the hair, as he moved it up and over his head, moving the hair out of the way of his vision, leaving it a little messy on top, as he turned his head slightly to the side to get a clearer listen to what was being said; he was a shinobi after all. Sometimes you had to spy on others, though he tried to be as inconspicuous as he could in such a little bar.

Listening to the man talk about their home the way he did, it made Raku miss it. The place where he grew up, and where he became a true shinobi for the first time. Without that village, he too would probably be nothing; it was everything his family was. But his talk of not being able to join a village was worrisome. It surely wasn't how Raku felt. Being a part of another village made everything that Mist had made him useful still. He was able to still work using his skills in a proper way. Though there was still the fact that he too was loyal to Mist, and wanted his old country back, so he could be where he came from. All of this making him quite home sick, he reached his right hand up to his left arm, gripping where, beneath his shirt, there was his Mist headband still, worn with pride, but hidden to this country, as to blend in.

Right after this conversation, the man from Mist had gotten up, having paid for his drinks, and began to stumble out the door, leaving the bar, obviously a little more drunk than he though he was. The urge to go after him, and talk to him -- another Mist shinobi, was strong. It had been so long since he'd talked to another like him, but apparently this man had chosen another path than his own. Quickly finishing his drink, he pulled out money from his pocket, placing it on the table, leaving a nice tip; probably more than he needed, but now he just wanted to get up and see what would happen from here.

Walking to the exit, he looked both ways down the street, and noticed the man was sitting down, not too far from the bar. Placing his hands in his pockets, Raku walked down the street, his posture slightly slouched like he normally walked when casually out in the town. As he approached he man, he was unsure what he wanted to say. He didn't want to seem rude, but he definitely wanted a chance to at least talk to someone else like him, so it had to be done. Stopping a few feet away from the man, he looked down at him as he sat there.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation in the bar." He said, trying not to be rude about his eavesdropping. "You said you came from Kirigakure. It is also the place I call my home, and where I became everything I am today." His voice continued, trying to bridge the connection between them to spark the conversation.

"It's been so long since I've talked to another from my homeland. It's so good to see there's more of us." He blurted out, trying to add a little more to the conversation, in hopes of a response.
[Marked for Training; 819 WC]
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[Akira Kazan]

Only a few moments had passed since he sat down, but yet he was already being bothered by someone. Though, from what little he had heard, this man was also from the Hidden Mist. As he glanced up to him, with somewhat of an angry glare, he soon lowered his eyes and sighed. ”There’s seriously thousands of us scattered across the lands. You have a lot of our brethren here with you. A vast majority of them sought refuge within the Hidden Cloud and Sand villages.” He said, letting the man know that they weren't alone and where others might be. The tone of his voice wasn't angry though; it was sincere and softly spoken, though pain was still obvious in his voice. With a moment of silence, or perhaps more of a slight pause, he continued. ”My name is Taishou Sairasu, formerly a Medical Ninja with Tenure. I was up for a promotion to chief before the incident, or so I thought. Who might you be?” He said.

He smelled of Alcohol, thought his sentences were still properly formed. There was no slur in his voice, or obnoxious smile, or gestures, as he spoke. Glancing back up to him, he slowly got to his feet and looked at the man. Sairasu was a rather large individual. He was six foot tall and two hundred and thirty five pounds, with less than six percent body fat. At first, his tainted white hair was a mess, but now he was slicking it back only seconds before extending his right arm to shake the man’s hand. Within the palm of his hand, there was a tattoo of the mist symbol. On his forearm, the Lunar curse mark laid visible for all to see. That and several scars, surrounding it. As he looked at the man, he tried to make direct eye contact with him; they were so close to each other now, in a formal manor of course, that this man could see his sky blue eyes clear as day, even here in the night.

On his face, one hell of a scar could be seen; it had apparently been stitched up from the middle of his hair line, extending down his right eye, and towards the bottom of his right ear. If this man looked down towards his chest, which was exposed due to the fact his jacket wasn’t done up and the fact that Sairasu never worse an shirt under it, he’d see a Scar in the shape of a wide shooting star from his collar bone, extending down behind his jacket towards his armpit. Sairasu’s body had seen hell, and the scars were his proof of the pain he has experienced up until now. Regardless of how hardened he was, he was having a hard time holding his composure at the moment. That too would also be obvious to the man, but Sairasu was to stubborn to not try and hold it.

[Wc: 400+][Marked]

 

[Miraku]

Standing near the man as he sat, looking down as the man glanced up at him with a glare that seemed to pierce him. Raku just stood there with his hands in his pockets looking back at him with his one visible bright green eye, as his right eye was blatantly covered by an eyepatch -- not that he needed it, but it was for the physical limitations of it for training, wearing a pretty casual set of cloths today; standing at 6 foot, 2 inches tall; although it didn't seem that way as his posture was slouched over. He seemed rather scrawny at 150 pounds, but still has a muscular body beneath his clothing, he was wearing a pair of well fitted cargo pants, and a white long sleeve shirt with plain black t-shirt over top. His long orange hair laid fallen over his shoulders, with a few strands over his face, but most of the hair from his bands had been brushed back with his hand earlier, so it was a little bit messy on top, but that's how he liked it.

The man soon lowered his vision, and began to speak, letting Raku know that there were still lots of ex-Mist shinobi out there, and that they weren't alone. Even though Raku sort of knew this already, he wasn't much of a social person, so he never really talked to anyone about it or heard anyone speaking of it; this man was the first. Just listening to him talk about their old village, it was obvious how much he cared for and missed it. Raku felt the same way, but who was he to do anything about it? Just a random Jounin; not that he didn't try to look for answers and possibilities. After just a slight pause, the man introduced himself as Taishou Sairasu, a former Med-Nin with Tenure, and finished by questioning who Raku was. Of course, Raku had forgotten to introduce himself again, it was something he had a habit of skipping when first talking to someone. After he finished, Sairasu stood up, quite a tall man, but definitely a large man who looked like he would break most people with one arm. Raku watched as Sairasu slicked back his white hair, and followed up by sticking his right hand out in a gesture that seemed to be looking for a hand shake, a polite thing that grown men did. Giving a quick glance at the man, he let out a smile, and extended his own right arm, his hand reaching out to Sairasu's own, and grasping at it to shake his hand, at the same time replying to the previous question.

"My name is Takuya, Raku. Former Mist Jounin, currently Cloud Jounin. It's nice to meet you Taishou Sairasu." He responded, while shaking the mans hand. Raku looked the man directly in the eyes while speaking, but couldn't help noticing the scars that he seemed to have acquired in his life time. "Feel free to sit back down. No need to stand on my account." He said, knowing that Sairasu had been drinking quite a bit, as well as having a hard time, he probably wasn't in any mood to be standing around for long periods of time. Raku leaned back against a wall of a building close to where Sairasu had sat down, hand now back in his pockets as he looked around up and down the street, watching a few people walk by as they were there talking. He didn't pay much attention to the other people though, since this was a busy area of town, there was always tons of activity going on here, but they were keeping a bit more private off to the side.

"It seems like you've had a rough time with the fact that Mist is currently gone. I too wish for our once great village to return and be restored to it's former glory. Not that you'll catch me saying that to every person I meet." He said, obviously not one to talk to shinobi from other countries about his past, and his loyalty to his former village. "So, what brings you to cloud?" He questioned, having overheard the conversation earlier about the man not currently being in a village, or wanting to join another village, he was obviously some kind of mercenary, which made Raku curious, since he had never thought to do something like that with his skills after Mist was gone.

[Marked for Training; 748 WC]
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[Akira Kazan]

As the two of their hands met, Sairasu’s gripped his hand as firmly as he possibly could. This wasn’t intentional, however. This was more so instincts; his father told him a long time ago that a man’s worth could be judged by his hand shake alone. Nodding as the man introduced himself, he sighed a little bit as the man told him to feel free to sit back down. Shaking his head a little, he spoke only a few words. ”It would be rather rude of me.” He said in a polite manor, as he stepped back and leaned against the wall. With his hands in his jacket pockets, he looked around only before pulling out a small pouch.

Within the pouch was something he was so accustomed to; Tabaco leafs. Opening the pouch with both hands, he dipped his right hand within it and grabbed a few. Tossing them into his mouth and moving them to the side, he began to chew. Extending his hand, with the pouch, out to Raku, he spoke again. ”It’s just chewing tabaco. Would you like any? It’s from the last batch grown back on my father’s farm in the water country.” He told the man, before gathering the spit in his mouth and turning his head to the side and spitting against the buildings lower wall. ”I’m here on business, I guess. I was hoping to recruit some of my brethren to my cause, but it’s not exactly working out. Without the backing of the last Mizukage, It’s not going so well.” He stated, leaving room for plenty of questions.

It was Sairasu’s goal to intrigue anyone who was once a part of the Hidden Mist. The goal was simple; gather a following to help rebuild The Hidden Mist. With enough people coming together, the Hidden Mist could be rebuilt. Perhaps it wouldn’t be within the same spot, but something could be accomplished non-the less.

[Wc: 300+] [Marked]

 

[Miraku]

A good firm handshake; something Raku never really understood, but purely recognized as a sign of respect and strength of character. It didn't really make sense to Raku in a logical sense, but it was just something he learned growing up, and was accepted by society as a whole, so there was no reason to feel otherwise, so it was just something that came naturally from living in this world, especially as a man. After the handshake, it appeared the other man didn't want to sit down, mentioning he thought it would be rude of him. Raku didn't personally see it that way, but then again, Raku wasn't really the proper manners type of person. He preferred to do things his own way, but over time had learned to show just enough manners to get by.

Watching as Sairasu leaned back against a wall as well, reaching into his pocket and pulling out some kind of pouch, opening it and placing a hand inside grabbing something. Unsure what he was grabbed, Raku watched silently for a moment as he pulled something out, and then put it in his mouth and began chewing. Listening as Sairasu told him what it was, and asked if he wanted any. Raku wasn't really interested in things like tobacco or smoking or anything like that; but from what Sairasu continued to say, it came from his father's farm from their home country. He knew he definitely didn't want to take any, even if to be polite, as it was something from Sairasu's home, and that's something he should keep for himself, since it didn't seem like they'd be able to get back there any time soon. He watched as the man chewed on the substance, and turned his head, spitting off to the side.

"No, but thank you though. I'm not really into tobacco or stuff like that. Besides, you should have that to yourself since it came from home." Raku responded, even though it sounded kinda corny, maybe even silly, it's just the way he felt about things like this; things from their old home, that let them remember the good times, and even the bad of their past.

Listening closely, as the man described what he was doing here in Cloud, it piqued Raku's interest at least, especially hearing about the last Mizukage; not that he really knew the Mizukage, nor cared about them as they had let Mist fall as it did; or at least that's how he felt about it, not knowing the details about anything involving what happened back then. The response left much to be desired though, and left many questions in Raku's head, as the answer was quite vague in what his plan actually was. The interest was certainly there though, because Raku still wanted Mist back; his home, his birthplace, and his country men. Strands of hair began to slowly fall into Raku's face as he leaned there, thinking and listening in silence for a moment. He pulled one hand from his pocket, and reached up, brushing the strands of hair back over the top of his head and out of his face once more, as he took a deep breath before responding.

"Hmm..what kind of cause would this be? Since you mentioned the Mizukage, it obviously has to do with Mist, I could only assume." He replied, thinking a quick moment. "I would personally love to see Mist return to being habitable or in the least reborn as a village once more." Raku continued to respond, thoughts flying through his head, as he thought about his old home, and how much he missed it, and the people he had known and grown up with. Raku stood there, reaching his right arm across to his left arm, grasping around his arm, feeling the Mist headband he had hidden beneath his clothing against his arm, memories rushing through his head as he continued to think of the past. He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, then releasing the breath, opening his eyes back and returning to this moment, standing in front of Sairasu, still both leaning against the walls of the building, Raku spoke once more. "There must be more ex-Mist shinobi who want the restore their home."

[Marked for Training; 716 WC]
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[Akira Kazan]

Glancing to him, as he looked around, Sairasu’s eyes soon lowered as he thought about everything this man before him just said. ”At first, there were a lot of us. Though, time soon depleted our resources and many of us just gave up. As of right now, I've not found another person who’s willing to help my cause.”<i></i> He stated, before thinking to himself for quite some time. "My Cause though, well it's something rather simple."<i></i> He said, shortly before spitting a large chunk of black spit out from between his lips. ”The Reconstruction Of The Bloody Mist.”<i></i> He stated, with a slight pause. Anyone who knew the history of their homeland knew what he meant when it referred to it as the Bloody Mist. There was once a time where no Missing Ninja escaped the grasps of the Mist, nor did anyone threaten them. Times were tougher, and becoming a Ninja was something so hard, that very few ever managed to accomplish it. During this time, guidelines, training schedules, and the law of the village were so strict, that many people started to refer to them as the bloody mist.


”Though, I want it to be different than history suggests. I want our village to return, I want it’s strength to be reborn, and I want it’s reputations to be restored. We need a following, land, wealth, and a leader. I can provide the wealth, as I am able to change any metal based material into copper, silver, gold, and platinum. But we lack a leader, followers, and a new location for the village. Our strength, might, anger, and hatred would be directed at all who threaten the village; that is where the name 'Bloody Mist' will come from.”<i></i> He stated to Raku, as he pulled out a steel kunai and raised a single hand. Performing a hand seal, the Kunai changed to gold before the very eyes of the man through the use of Sairasu’s secret custom technique.

[wc: 330]
[Marked]

 

[Miraku]

Raku stood and listened to the answers to his questions; listening to the complications. The cause caught his attention though, Bloody Mist. It didn't exactly sound appealing due to the history behind such a name. Raku wasn't quite sure how he felt about this situation, but he continued to listen as Sairasu continued to explain what he meant. Apparently it was more for the name than the reconstruction of the same type of living standards as the name would suggest. The name was probably for show more than meaning from this explanation. The idea was quite tempting, because Raku was still loyal to his home country and village; but he was no leader, he had no land or any ideas for a new land. Being a follower was the only position he fit, but even then, he was in no position to fill that requirement, being a shinobi of Kumogakure now, taken in after his home was no longer habitable. It seemed the wealth was covered according to him, since he could apparently turn metals into other materials. Raku was a little skeptical about this ability, but quickly after he finished speaking, he pulled out a kunai; Raku preparing mentally due to a weapon being pulled out, although part of him felt trust towards Sairasu already, not reacting to the action. Watching as Sairasu preformed a hand seal, the kunai changed into gold in front of them. Although it could easily be some trick, there was no reason to doubt it, especially with the reason for using it being to bring back Mist.

"That seems like a tall order with no one else to help. I'm afraid there isn't really anything I can do to help with this cause either." Raku said, letting out a slight sigh, and looking down a bit. "I truly want to see the return of the greatness that is Kirigakure. It seems like quite the tall order to fill. I would gladly follow for such a cause, but as of right now, I have an obligation to this village for taking me in and giving me work after the fall of our home. Not that I am loyal to this village over Mist." He continued. This cause seemed to come at an inopportune time for Raku, but from what he'd heard, there wasn't much steam to the cause yet anyhow. Raku scratched reached a hand up to his head again, this time scratching a slight itch on top of his head, as he shifted his weight to his other foot, bending his other knee to relieve the pressure of standing on it so long, even leaning against a wall. He though for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"Judging by your words, a lot more than just an extra person is needed still, so I wouldn't be much help at this point anyway." Raku said to Sairasu as he looked back up and gave a slight smirk. "Though based on what you've said, you obviously have the resolve to get this thing done. Just seems like it'll take a lot of time and some luck in finding the right people who feel the same way we do and would be willing to follow when the time comes and everything comes together." Who knows how long that could be, and by then Raku could be done with this village, or maybe he wouldn't even be here anymore. No one really knew what the future held for any shinobi in this strange world they lived in.

[Marked for Training; 590 WC]
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[Akira Kazan]

”You had an obligation to the Hidden Mist before you did the cloud. Though, you’re right. Thank you for speaking with me, and it was nice to meet you. Though, I gotta get going. Look me up if you’re ever within the water country.” He stated, as he nodded towards the man and began to walk off. Truthfully, he was a little angry on the inside. Apparently, no one knew what true loyalty was. Sure, the mist was gone, but it was never truly gone. It lived on in all their hearts, and only those who let their heart sway would refuse to help rebuild. This was another man who had no intentions on helping him, for the time being. Accepting it, he moved on.


[Retirement]
[Topic left]
[OOC: I'm retiring!]

 

[Miraku]

The moment the man spoke, Raku felt terrible for his decision, but it was one he didn't make lightly. There truly was no point in him leaving at this time to try to rebuild a village with no other support than a single man; especially when that man simply took Raku's reasoning at face value and did not fight for his cause to try and convince him otherwise -- not to say Raku would change his mind, but it was the effort that mattered. Apparently the man now needed to leave, seeming like he was slightly disappointed with the outcome of their conversation. Raku knew that it wasn't the right time for Mist's revival, but one day it would come, and he would be there to see it happen, and rejoice with his fellow countrymen.

"It was good to meet another from our home. I'll be sure to make contact when that day happens." Raku said, as he watched the man walk off, taking his leave, probably from this country, but who knew. Raku wasn't going to ask or even worry about it because he had his own things to deal with, like getting used to living in this new country. Even though he'd been here for a while, he was still getting used to the changes and the different culture, different peoples and the different way of living. It wasn't a bad change, just something he would have to accept and live with. Pulling a hand out of his pocket, he raised up his arm, and placed his palm on the top of his forehead, using his fingers to scratch the top of his head, as he now stood there alone, against a wall off the side of the street. Placing his hands in his pockets, he leaned forward, taking his back off the wall, and slouching towards the front once more, as he began walking into the street, and down it looking around to see what else he could do for the rest of the day before he would need to head home.

[Marked for Training; 344 WC]
[Topic Left]
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