Migoya took a deep breath in, his mind trying feverishly to work out the subtle scents of the blend he had just put together in an effort to replicate his brother's famous tea. Yong had been a true master of the blend, and it honestly frustrated Migoya that he, master of chemicals, medicines and poisons, couldn't replicate his old brother's skill with a teapot and some leaves.
Perhaps it was patience, and the blending of all the elements. Yong had been nothing but patient and wise, and a little bit psychotic. At least one of those attributes had been passed down to his son, not to mention his looks. Migoya looked at young Yong, his face glowing from the campfire, with a sad smile as he passed over a cup of the steaming tea.
“I’m sorry that it is not as good as your fathers. He had once tried to teach me how to blend it properly, but I never got the knack of it”.
Its because you are a stupid moron who hates hats.
Migoya looked down at Mikki who rested comfortably in the nook of Yong’s arm, clearly playing favourites right now.
“Yes. I am a stupid moron who hates hats, and hates interrupting meticulously laid plans all for the sake of attire. I’m sorry I told you off Mikki - but remember, I tend to do things like that to make people think things that are not necessarily true. Divert the focus away from what is actually important…”
So you were being a smart arse.
“Yes”.
And you actually really want that hat.
“Yes Mikki. And the head under it”.
Ok. Well, don’t tell me off again like that. I’m older than you.
Migoya gave the puppet a smile and a nod, before turning his gaze onto Yong as he took his place, sitting on a simple log on the other side of the campfire. Wearing his Myakashi amour, the light of the fire seemed to be eaten away in the shadows of the expertly crafted protection, and it made no sound as Migoya threw a small log onto the greedy fire. Soon, after they left this place, Migoya would head to ‘dead’ Kirigakure to adapt Akkuma’s modification into the sets of armour he carried… but that was a future endeavour. In the far distance, the great white world tree stood, bringing more memories back to Migoya from the past - a past where he had managed to overcome the spirits there and climb to its peak. The white staff that now lay next to him, a branch of that very tree, was testament to his skills as it cast a bone-white light around the pair. Certainly, between that glow and the fire they would stand out to anyone looking for them, but then again who would be stupid enough to confront them?
“It would seem our little endeavour to Konoha was a success after all, despite the setbacks. Your face tells me that something else happened there though - should I be made aware of it? There is also something else I must tell you, nephew… something difficult that you might not agree with and that is fine.”
Migoya took a sip of his tea, its pleasant taste and warmth conflicting against his normally dead-cold skin.
“But first, tell me of your endeavours in Konoha”.
Perhaps it was patience, and the blending of all the elements. Yong had been nothing but patient and wise, and a little bit psychotic. At least one of those attributes had been passed down to his son, not to mention his looks. Migoya looked at young Yong, his face glowing from the campfire, with a sad smile as he passed over a cup of the steaming tea.
“I’m sorry that it is not as good as your fathers. He had once tried to teach me how to blend it properly, but I never got the knack of it”.
Its because you are a stupid moron who hates hats.
Migoya looked down at Mikki who rested comfortably in the nook of Yong’s arm, clearly playing favourites right now.
“Yes. I am a stupid moron who hates hats, and hates interrupting meticulously laid plans all for the sake of attire. I’m sorry I told you off Mikki - but remember, I tend to do things like that to make people think things that are not necessarily true. Divert the focus away from what is actually important…”
So you were being a smart arse.
“Yes”.
And you actually really want that hat.
“Yes Mikki. And the head under it”.
Ok. Well, don’t tell me off again like that. I’m older than you.
Migoya gave the puppet a smile and a nod, before turning his gaze onto Yong as he took his place, sitting on a simple log on the other side of the campfire. Wearing his Myakashi amour, the light of the fire seemed to be eaten away in the shadows of the expertly crafted protection, and it made no sound as Migoya threw a small log onto the greedy fire. Soon, after they left this place, Migoya would head to ‘dead’ Kirigakure to adapt Akkuma’s modification into the sets of armour he carried… but that was a future endeavour. In the far distance, the great white world tree stood, bringing more memories back to Migoya from the past - a past where he had managed to overcome the spirits there and climb to its peak. The white staff that now lay next to him, a branch of that very tree, was testament to his skills as it cast a bone-white light around the pair. Certainly, between that glow and the fire they would stand out to anyone looking for them, but then again who would be stupid enough to confront them?
“It would seem our little endeavour to Konoha was a success after all, despite the setbacks. Your face tells me that something else happened there though - should I be made aware of it? There is also something else I must tell you, nephew… something difficult that you might not agree with and that is fine.”
Migoya took a sip of his tea, its pleasant taste and warmth conflicting against his normally dead-cold skin.
“But first, tell me of your endeavours in Konoha”.