One of the things Makoto detests more than anything else is explaining things.
This is, typically, because the people who need the things explained to them are much less intelligent than he is and often don't understand the words he is using, the order he puts them in, or indeed any recognizable form of language. This has never changed in all of his years of having to explain things to people, who typically flap their gums at him and make talking noises that indicate confusion until he either speaks very slowly using small words or somehow makes them go away.
He prefers dealing with people who he can tell the general outlines of the situation, and then they will nod and infer things or fill things in themselves or, failing that, look up things. People should be able to understand words, he thinks, as that is what they are for. Why should he bother speaking words when no one is going to go to the trouble of understanding them?
On a similar note, he hates it when people are just pretending they don't understand him. He has never held with people who pretend to be dumber than they actually are, no matter the reason. If you are blessed with the ability to understand everything around you, you shouldn't be wasting your brainpower on pretending you don't.
(All of this is of course going to make his inevitable eventual meeting with his new cousin spectacularly disastrous, though he doesn't know that yet, or that it is being postponed to the unforeseen future.)
No, at this juncture he is stuck explaining things to a hapless rookie, whose name he has not bothered to learn. These aren't even difficult things, unless teenagers no longer know what the word 'older brother' mean.
"He looks very similar to me and should be waiting up ahead, have you or have you not seen him?" he said, very slowly, to the small blond, who is looking terrified and like he has perhaps inhaled a neurotoxin of some kind. "If you haven't then tell me and stop wasting my time asking for clarifications, I am absolutely authorized to be here."
"Wardens and wardens in training only--" the child begins, and Makoto ruthlessly cuts him off.
"I am one," he snaps. "I don't know if you noticed me around, I'm the one who wanders around with the parasol, which all of you think it funny to snigger about until you have to spar me and I beat you about the head with it."
"Stop terrorizing the younglings," came a very familiar voice in an exceedingly dry tone.
Makoto turned, implicitly releasing the small annoying nonentity from his presence. "Did you intend to make me wait, or do you just like watching me threaten people?"
Kanashimi raised an eyebrow, conveying a surprising amount for such a simple gesture. Things like 'I would never admit to finding anything funny where people can hear me' and 'I outrank you in every way and I can make you wait as long as I want.' Maybe not in that order.
"I thought I should step in before you took his head off. Go." This last part was directed at the apparently-still-there lifeform, who immediately scampered. "He was only trying to do guard duty and you ought to carry your badge around more visibly, but never mind that. Come on."
They wound their way toward a section of the grounds slightly more private than the entrance to a warden-only area, although it was mid-afternoon and most of the people who had the right to be in there were out doing things anyway. Idly Makoto wondered at the secrecy. There was plenty of it around Moon as it was, but things being hush-hush wasn't exactly Kanashimi's usual way of doing things.
"You're being sent on a mission," his brother said bluntly immediately after they found a spot to sit down. "I have no idea how long it will take. If anyone between now and the time you leave asks you why you are leaving, you are to lie and tell them it's a vacation. Do I make myself clear?"
That could only mean, of course, that he was going Somewhere to spy on Someone or possibly Many Someones. "Crystal."
"Good." Kanashimi exhaled. Surely the implacable man wasn't suddenly nervous? That made some part of him twitch; if his brother was concerned it had to be quite potentially dangerous. "How much do you know about Wind Country?"
Makoto gave the matter some thought before he answered. "...Well, I know they have a shinobi village, of course, that has suffered recent trouble. I know they are huge, and hot, and dry, and probably quite windy, what with being largely a desert and all. They seem to largely keep to themselves, really, so I don't know as much as maybe I'd like to."
Kanashimi nodded, as if that was the right answer. He looked somehow even more serious than usual, which was a real feat. "You've been selected to go find out more about them."
He nearly hit the roof. "They're sending me to go on a diplomatic mission? Are they mental?"
"Of course not," was the patient response, which was just barely not accompanied by an eyeroll. "They're sending you in as a spy to see if we ought to even attempt diplomacy. And, obviously, they don't want anyone to know about this, because people might not take it well--which is why they told me to tell you, as opposed to anyone important summoning you."
He nodded slowly. Politics wasn't his area of expertise, but he knew enough to know that making any sort of intentional overture toward a shinobi village might mean Big Things for the future. But then, these were times of change, and part of his job was to make sure that it went well. "...All right. Am I to go alone?"
"Yes. And...." he paused. "If you can avoid it, don't mention where you're from. You're a wandering mercenary. If someone suspects otherwise you can admit to it, but don't bring up where you're from yourself unless it becomes necessary." He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolded it, handing it over. "This is what they want you to find out. Memorize it so I can burn it, since I'd rather you not fire off a jutsu."
And you can't manipulate raw fire chakra yourself, he didn't say. Makoto hid a grimace. Sometimes his gift felt like a handicap. He took the sheet. "..Fine then."
It seemed straightforward enough. There wasn't even anything malicious about it; in fact, it said right there on the sheet that he was to attempt to avoid antagonizing anyone important in Sand if at all possible, and to make friendly overtures. Easier said than done, for him.
"Why me?" he asked after setting down the paper. "I'm not an ideal choice for this."
"Someone with a good enough memory so that they could retain large quantities of information for an extended period of time while unable to write it down was requested," Kanashimi answered, sounding as if he were parroting someone else. "Besides, you might get some real use out of that parasol of yours. Your primary weapon isn't very suspect as a weapon in the desert."
He lifted his own eyebrow, mimicking the earlier gesture. "True," he murmured. The first part had stroked his ego and the second just made plain sense. "But I'm not to pick a fight."
"Not with any lawful Sand nin, no." His brother inclined his head slightly. "But as a precaution..."
He didn't need to finish the sentence. Their jobs were all about taking precautions.
"I've always fancied a vacation to Wind Country," he said after a minute in what hopefully passed for a bright voice, internally grimacing at the thought of how sand got everywhere and itched terribly.
"That's the spirit," Kanashimi said. His fingers glowed slightly orange as he touched the discarded paper, and it caught aflame instantly, burning to ashes.
[Enter/Exit/Single-Post Topic; 30 Min Runtime (S-Rank)]
This is, typically, because the people who need the things explained to them are much less intelligent than he is and often don't understand the words he is using, the order he puts them in, or indeed any recognizable form of language. This has never changed in all of his years of having to explain things to people, who typically flap their gums at him and make talking noises that indicate confusion until he either speaks very slowly using small words or somehow makes them go away.
He prefers dealing with people who he can tell the general outlines of the situation, and then they will nod and infer things or fill things in themselves or, failing that, look up things. People should be able to understand words, he thinks, as that is what they are for. Why should he bother speaking words when no one is going to go to the trouble of understanding them?
On a similar note, he hates it when people are just pretending they don't understand him. He has never held with people who pretend to be dumber than they actually are, no matter the reason. If you are blessed with the ability to understand everything around you, you shouldn't be wasting your brainpower on pretending you don't.
(All of this is of course going to make his inevitable eventual meeting with his new cousin spectacularly disastrous, though he doesn't know that yet, or that it is being postponed to the unforeseen future.)
No, at this juncture he is stuck explaining things to a hapless rookie, whose name he has not bothered to learn. These aren't even difficult things, unless teenagers no longer know what the word 'older brother' mean.
"He looks very similar to me and should be waiting up ahead, have you or have you not seen him?" he said, very slowly, to the small blond, who is looking terrified and like he has perhaps inhaled a neurotoxin of some kind. "If you haven't then tell me and stop wasting my time asking for clarifications, I am absolutely authorized to be here."
"Wardens and wardens in training only--" the child begins, and Makoto ruthlessly cuts him off.
"I am one," he snaps. "I don't know if you noticed me around, I'm the one who wanders around with the parasol, which all of you think it funny to snigger about until you have to spar me and I beat you about the head with it."
"Stop terrorizing the younglings," came a very familiar voice in an exceedingly dry tone.
Makoto turned, implicitly releasing the small annoying nonentity from his presence. "Did you intend to make me wait, or do you just like watching me threaten people?"
Kanashimi raised an eyebrow, conveying a surprising amount for such a simple gesture. Things like 'I would never admit to finding anything funny where people can hear me' and 'I outrank you in every way and I can make you wait as long as I want.' Maybe not in that order.
"I thought I should step in before you took his head off. Go." This last part was directed at the apparently-still-there lifeform, who immediately scampered. "He was only trying to do guard duty and you ought to carry your badge around more visibly, but never mind that. Come on."
They wound their way toward a section of the grounds slightly more private than the entrance to a warden-only area, although it was mid-afternoon and most of the people who had the right to be in there were out doing things anyway. Idly Makoto wondered at the secrecy. There was plenty of it around Moon as it was, but things being hush-hush wasn't exactly Kanashimi's usual way of doing things.
"You're being sent on a mission," his brother said bluntly immediately after they found a spot to sit down. "I have no idea how long it will take. If anyone between now and the time you leave asks you why you are leaving, you are to lie and tell them it's a vacation. Do I make myself clear?"
That could only mean, of course, that he was going Somewhere to spy on Someone or possibly Many Someones. "Crystal."
"Good." Kanashimi exhaled. Surely the implacable man wasn't suddenly nervous? That made some part of him twitch; if his brother was concerned it had to be quite potentially dangerous. "How much do you know about Wind Country?"
Makoto gave the matter some thought before he answered. "...Well, I know they have a shinobi village, of course, that has suffered recent trouble. I know they are huge, and hot, and dry, and probably quite windy, what with being largely a desert and all. They seem to largely keep to themselves, really, so I don't know as much as maybe I'd like to."
Kanashimi nodded, as if that was the right answer. He looked somehow even more serious than usual, which was a real feat. "You've been selected to go find out more about them."
He nearly hit the roof. "They're sending me to go on a diplomatic mission? Are they mental?"
"Of course not," was the patient response, which was just barely not accompanied by an eyeroll. "They're sending you in as a spy to see if we ought to even attempt diplomacy. And, obviously, they don't want anyone to know about this, because people might not take it well--which is why they told me to tell you, as opposed to anyone important summoning you."
He nodded slowly. Politics wasn't his area of expertise, but he knew enough to know that making any sort of intentional overture toward a shinobi village might mean Big Things for the future. But then, these were times of change, and part of his job was to make sure that it went well. "...All right. Am I to go alone?"
"Yes. And...." he paused. "If you can avoid it, don't mention where you're from. You're a wandering mercenary. If someone suspects otherwise you can admit to it, but don't bring up where you're from yourself unless it becomes necessary." He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolded it, handing it over. "This is what they want you to find out. Memorize it so I can burn it, since I'd rather you not fire off a jutsu."
And you can't manipulate raw fire chakra yourself, he didn't say. Makoto hid a grimace. Sometimes his gift felt like a handicap. He took the sheet. "..Fine then."
It seemed straightforward enough. There wasn't even anything malicious about it; in fact, it said right there on the sheet that he was to attempt to avoid antagonizing anyone important in Sand if at all possible, and to make friendly overtures. Easier said than done, for him.
"Why me?" he asked after setting down the paper. "I'm not an ideal choice for this."
"Someone with a good enough memory so that they could retain large quantities of information for an extended period of time while unable to write it down was requested," Kanashimi answered, sounding as if he were parroting someone else. "Besides, you might get some real use out of that parasol of yours. Your primary weapon isn't very suspect as a weapon in the desert."
He lifted his own eyebrow, mimicking the earlier gesture. "True," he murmured. The first part had stroked his ego and the second just made plain sense. "But I'm not to pick a fight."
"Not with any lawful Sand nin, no." His brother inclined his head slightly. "But as a precaution..."
He didn't need to finish the sentence. Their jobs were all about taking precautions.
"I've always fancied a vacation to Wind Country," he said after a minute in what hopefully passed for a bright voice, internally grimacing at the thought of how sand got everywhere and itched terribly.
"That's the spirit," Kanashimi said. His fingers glowed slightly orange as he touched the discarded paper, and it caught aflame instantly, burning to ashes.
[Enter/Exit/Single-Post Topic; 30 Min Runtime (S-Rank)]