Out of all the locations he had been to so far in Wind Country, the harbor was the one Makoto felt the most at home in.
In a way, it was unsurprising. Much of Wind Country was dry and arid, or underground and dark. Despite the superficial similarities in temperature, it was not much like his home country. But the harbor was bright, with the scent of sea air he hadn't even realized he'd missed until it hit him again. It was the perfect place to slip away to when he wanted to escape from his bickering traveling companions.
(Sheimi and Tatsuya had not stopped sniping at each other since they got to Sand. At least they didn't do it in front of other people.)
The harbor still wasn't Moon, of course. He didn't have to check over his shoulder for personal enemies, but then, his family held no power here. He didn't have to worry about the odd, misshapen emotional patterns of his travel companions, but he did have to be very, very careful to filter whilst moving through the crowds. Even so, he ended up wincing occasionally when a particularly emotional person brushed past him. Still, it was good training.
It was somewhat akin to someone shouting into your ear, with some people. It was difficult if not impossible to ignore, and he was 'sensitive' enough that he suspected it happened to him more often than the average empath--if such a thing were to exist.
I see no benefits from this power.
I really do wish there were a way to free you from it, Makoto. But I do not know how.
So he just had to get used to it, really.
Like anything else.
But let it be said he wasn't feeling particularly bitter that day, or anything so negative. Makoto's strongest emotion in that general direction was one he tentatively identified as 'wistful.' Even then, mostly in that he never had found his true natural core.
Perhaps he was a little deeply mired in his thoughts to a degree beyond wistful. It was, after all, a good shield against the raging storm of the multitude of other people within the range of his empathy.
The only reason he wasn't tuned out entirely was because he was quite sure there was Something Going On in Wind Country, and knew better than to check out when an undercurrent of dark intention was palpable all around him. No, there was perhaps another thing similar between Wind and Moon, and that was the buried seediness masked lightly by layers of pleasantness and averageness. He was familiar enough with that side of the world that it wasn't something he'd easily miss.
So he was just alert enough to catch something unusual for what he'd observed of the area with any sense, as long as it wasn't overly subtle.
And it wasn't as if he was particularly subtle, himself--his clothes were obviously foreign, his chakra would seem just slightly off, and anyone with the ability to sense otherworldly or just plain strange things would magnetize to him on the instant for the phoenix spirit. To the right person, he would stick out like a sore thumb.
Even to an average ninja, the way he kept veering away from specific people seemingly at random in response to their louder emotional states would look...odd. Suspicious.
Makoto was even worse at not attracting attention than he usually thought he was.
In a way, it was unsurprising. Much of Wind Country was dry and arid, or underground and dark. Despite the superficial similarities in temperature, it was not much like his home country. But the harbor was bright, with the scent of sea air he hadn't even realized he'd missed until it hit him again. It was the perfect place to slip away to when he wanted to escape from his bickering traveling companions.
(Sheimi and Tatsuya had not stopped sniping at each other since they got to Sand. At least they didn't do it in front of other people.)
The harbor still wasn't Moon, of course. He didn't have to check over his shoulder for personal enemies, but then, his family held no power here. He didn't have to worry about the odd, misshapen emotional patterns of his travel companions, but he did have to be very, very careful to filter whilst moving through the crowds. Even so, he ended up wincing occasionally when a particularly emotional person brushed past him. Still, it was good training.
It was somewhat akin to someone shouting into your ear, with some people. It was difficult if not impossible to ignore, and he was 'sensitive' enough that he suspected it happened to him more often than the average empath--if such a thing were to exist.
I see no benefits from this power.
I really do wish there were a way to free you from it, Makoto. But I do not know how.
So he just had to get used to it, really.
Like anything else.
But let it be said he wasn't feeling particularly bitter that day, or anything so negative. Makoto's strongest emotion in that general direction was one he tentatively identified as 'wistful.' Even then, mostly in that he never had found his true natural core.
Perhaps he was a little deeply mired in his thoughts to a degree beyond wistful. It was, after all, a good shield against the raging storm of the multitude of other people within the range of his empathy.
The only reason he wasn't tuned out entirely was because he was quite sure there was Something Going On in Wind Country, and knew better than to check out when an undercurrent of dark intention was palpable all around him. No, there was perhaps another thing similar between Wind and Moon, and that was the buried seediness masked lightly by layers of pleasantness and averageness. He was familiar enough with that side of the world that it wasn't something he'd easily miss.
So he was just alert enough to catch something unusual for what he'd observed of the area with any sense, as long as it wasn't overly subtle.
And it wasn't as if he was particularly subtle, himself--his clothes were obviously foreign, his chakra would seem just slightly off, and anyone with the ability to sense otherworldly or just plain strange things would magnetize to him on the instant for the phoenix spirit. To the right person, he would stick out like a sore thumb.
Even to an average ninja, the way he kept veering away from specific people seemingly at random in response to their louder emotional states would look...odd. Suspicious.
Makoto was even worse at not attracting attention than he usually thought he was.