The gravelly hum rung in his throat as he peered over the river that babbled, foamy waters to split along a myriad of toppled and staggered stones that had been weathered and all but polished smooth by nature. How long had it been since the Jounin last left those familiar lands of his lightning country? He felt far from home, though it did not matter -- there were densely planted forests and boulders to find along here and he'd return to striking at both, having taken to a diversion on his course here to remain ever vigilant. It was important to remain committed: to a promise, to a task, to your partner and it was equally important to put things aside to honor that commitment, in the way deserved: his training deserved the rough touch his calloused and veritably scarred hands, day in and day out. The climate was far milder--and so too were the ninja--than the tundra he had been born in; the sun seemed brighter and the air had a warmth about it that his frame, bare in some areas by virtue of his tan gi--though it remained to be answered if it were always that color or if simply unwashed--that had been torn at the sleeves, exposing arms as round as barrels threatening to burst.
Despite his disinterest in politics, as he held to the conspired belief that there was a base evil to their nature, he had known of the fall which occurred in this country at the beginning of a generation just before his. It was those same politics that had brought him here, for better or for worse, as the Raikage briefed them of the worldly news, surly the same things that had brought shinobi of numerous paths before his eyes that teetered more on the edge of green than they had blue. Many had been young. Far younger and, despite knowing little or nothing of Seiichi Koji, it only seemed natural that they steer clear of a stone-faced giant as he continued upon the natural path that had led him here, so far, bridged at the borders of both countries. There was still a ways for him to go, but his current pace was taken with purpose as it was decided that he'd travel at a distance from the contingent of kumo genin and chuunin that were summoned by this call of arms, just as he had been. If only to monitor their interactions and see how they handled themselves on what was to be some of their first expeditions from beyond their borders.
From his hip he'd draw a gourd that had first spent the day filled to the brim with a dark, sweet and spicy beverage with a notable stink of alcohol. Even with its higher than average alcohol content, it'd take more than a gourd alone for the goliath to be clouded by a buzz. Seiichi had allowed himself this distraction by the shallow water, drinking as a moment was spared to mull over what was to come. By his own devices he surmised that a lack of action would be reacted to with threat, the missive was easily read with a seedy tone. What, in all of this, had truly been the greatest threat?
Last Edit: Sept 7, 2021 3:29:20 GMT by Seiichi Koji
Reconnaissance had been on the top of Makoto's duty list since she stepped foot in Otogakure. Both in an official and unofficial capacity, she was curious to see what - if anything - was so special about the surrounding countryside. Was it really worth risking shinobi lives over? People were going to die regardless, but she planned to do everything in her power to ensure as few of her fellow Mist ninja met that fate as possible.
Thankfully, doing a bit of scouting was exactly what her ninja hounds were trained for, so they split up to survey the wilderness en masse. Having every bit of confidence in her ninken to get the job done, the Kiri jounin followed the flow of a waterway in an effort to familiarize herself with the land. Which was when she caught a whiff of a peculiar scent nearby, spotting a figure ahead and putting her thoughts of recon on hold.
Makoto made her presence known as she stepped through the shallow water with a light splash.
"Well, well. Look what we have here." She greeted with a playful, fanged smirk.
The Inuzuka kept her distance at the banks of the waterway, uncertain how the other ninja would react to her presence. Even so, she could sense the danger emanating from the shinobi despite how relaxed he appeared - a feeling like being washed in blood. The very same sense Makoto often exuded.
"Thought somethin' smelled like dead bear. Didn't think I'd find somethin' even uglier."
[attr="class","APP3"]Fate had two edges and often both seemed poised to cut and render at his flesh, this coming experience seemed no different. He was made aware of her presence by that purposed splash. His nostrils flared and that large chest of his expanded, the jounin to exhale in a metered manner as his head turned slowly to look at her. Seiichi said nothing, as his eyes seemed all telling; curiously, a women like her would have made more of an effort to remain hidden, if that was her aim all along.
"My mother always called me handsome."
A lie. She was dead-- Fate had been cruel then, trading her life for his own. Even with something of the semblance of familiarity it was hard to decode the things he said as they all fled from between his lips in that deep fashion, his voice a veritable rumble befitting of the giant he was. Some time had passed, true, and the grueling training he subjected himself to did no wonders for his skin. The jounin of Kumogakure was mildly familiar with her, to the point that he at least remembered the name of the kiri jounin; he stared at her intensely, though it couldn't be helped as most things about him were unfortunately suffocated by a similar intensity or, as some would say, it was his 'theme'.
"Makoto Inuzuka," his voice was far more stentorian now, his words boomed like that roar of coursing thunder as it tore the air asunder, "you've aged." His arms folded beneath his chest, those meaty and scarred paws tucked--mostly--away to signal he'd no intention to fight her, the gourd he drank from hung by a strap supported by a dense and calloused finger. Seiichi allowed his words to age, granting Makoto the time necessary for a tactile quip.
Then he swung that gourd towards her in a suggesting manner, before speaking. "A drink?" Its contents could be heard swishing, a heavy 'thunk' along the inner lining as whatever was in there possessed a viscosity that was wholly unfamiliar to more classed sake. It was sweet, but its proof could make even the most untalented a kaiton user-- all for the price of a fit of painful coughs.
Last Edit: Sept 8, 2021 2:36:58 GMT by Seiichi Koji
He wasn't far off. Just across the shallows of the river, perhaps a little ways back, figure masked in the thick shadow of the treeline. It wasn't perfect camoflauge. Enough to spare him the notice of a passing glance, maybe. He was too close to the edge, shade flickering over his shape to reveal the scarce line of his silhouette. His eyes were toward the monolith taking pause at the water's edge, and as a second shinobi slipped into view, he soon came to realize he wasn't the only ninja taking stock of their numbers. His focus shift briefly to take measure of the woman bold enough to guide her steps through the splash of the water, and with her presence commit to memory, his gaze was right back to the tower of muscle that had first caught his interest.[break][break]
Calm, his hand braced itself to the rough bark of a nearby tree, bare fingers caught against its gravel as his gloved palm rest against it's surface. The voices across the way carried well enough over the water, and though the pair seemed well enough distracted in each others company, he wouldn't dare chance his neck in leaning in nearer in attempt to better parse their words.[break][break]
Koma kept himself still and quiet in the safety of the brush, resigned to keep his distance as the tranquil empty of his stare studied on.
Seiichi Koji of the Cloud. Pleasant as always; really knew how to flatter a woman too. Playful banter aside, the only reason the name was worth remembering was on account of the man's feats in battle. Several times now Makoto had the pleasure of facing him during the Mist's incursions out east, but throughout the years those conflicts had never reached any decisive conclusion.
Here they were again, crossing paths. Yet unlike their previous encounters, this was far more civil. For the moment at least. The jounin also could've sworn she felt a gaze bearing down on her from somewhere nearby, but decided to ignore the disturbance for the time being.
"Yeah, I'm parched," she answered casually to the offer of a drink, strolling out of the shallows and toward the mountain of muscle. Along the way she retrieved a small bundle from her sleeve and tossed it over as a means of repayment. "Here. Dried pork." She was saving some for the pups after their mission was completed, but there was plenty to go around. Plus it looked like the Seiichi could eat a whole boar by himself and still be hungry, so a light snack wouldn't hurt.
Without any further hesitation, Makoto then took the gourd and quenched her thirst with a hefty gulp of whatever was inside. "Eugh! This's what passes as a drink in the Cloud, huh? Tastes like mud and cow piss." Her expression was one of disgust but she indulged in a second drink, as if somehow that would wash the bad flavor away. Big surprise. It didn't. "Never mind. I think---" She stopped to cough and wipe a bit of the sludgy contents from the corner of her mouth. "Mud tastes better."
Regardless of any animosity she might've harbored toward Kumogakure or Seiichi himself, Makoto was wise enough to know that now was no time to focus on petty rivalries. Besides that, it wasn't like she was afraid of being poisoned. Not by a ninja that prided himself on defeating his problems with his own two fists.
[attr="class","APP3"]Just like that--incredibly--that's all it took. The two Jounin, who had been historically pitted at odds in the discretion of others, were able to put aside almost two decades of conflict-- in fact, it was an anniversary that was soon coming up. A lot had happened in that time, though not so much for Seiichi as he only grew as nature had intended he do and there were few interesting tales for him to recant, save all the times he had wrestled bears to feed and cloth himself. Apart from that, there were no stories of grand adventure or epics to be recanted in song for the astonishing or legendary feats he'd accomplished. It went without saying that, to this day, his diamond remained in the rough. However, it made no different to the ninja of Kumogakure as those vanities were never apart of the plan.
Seiichi watched as she closed the distance between them, wading carefully through the water. He caught the small parcel and, with surprisingly deft digits given how dense they'd been, he undid the string. It wasn't long before he raised it to the air, his head to tilt back as he dumped its contents into his own ravenous maw. Despite the naturally tough texture of jerky, often times resilient to chews that lacked the heart, the Jounin ate with no compromise. Seiichi had been used to these meals as drying bear meat often tied him over until the next one stumbled upon him. There was a difference. It was far tastier than anything he'd ever thrown together. There was a richness in the fat of the pork, a saltiness brought on by this method of preservation and, the most important thing of all, it was juicy.
He took the gourd back and would hold onto it, knowing well she wouldn't take it again. He could admit, sure, that there was a complexity to the flavor. It was bodied by the viscous molasses left behind from boiling sugar, though more complex herbs and spices altered the taste all together. Discarding her third insult, he took a drink. It was a heavy gulp, as was required to not choke on it. "Sensitive," he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I like it. I don't like to think I drink cow piss, though." He lamented in gravelly voice, a bold baritone. He was never a man of many words, but with the patience afforded by two decades, he theorized that if he said nothing intended to stoke ire... Perhaps she wouldn't, too; alas, it was hard to not come to blows. It was, after all, one of the things he did best.
"You aren't alone," Seiichi mentioned curtly. his eyes leaving Makoto for a spell as his alertness awoke. The weight of a gaze turned his stomach and he was inclined to believe something lurked. It was not unlike those glassy gazes in the woods of kumo, where the beady eyes of wildlife shamelessly gawked. He was wrong to assume Makoto had stowed a student of hers in the distance. "How many?" Students? Ninken? Cuts of pork jerky left? He did not clarify further. However, should her answer possess a semblance of truth, then the reconnaissance was a success-- assuming she'd tell nothing but the truth.
"Hmm. . ."
With the twisting of his brow he focused his vision. Was that shape... humanly?
Last Edit: Sept 8, 2021 6:36:05 GMT by Seiichi Koji
It was unexpected. The parcel the woman had tossed caught his eyes, and as its shape landed in the grasp of the strange muscled mountain, his gaze stuck there with it, curious to the truth of the woman's words. Sure enough, what wait inside looked to be the promised snack, and by the sound of things, its taste was far more appealing than what drink might hide in the large man's gourd.[break][break]
He was taking notes. Measuring postures. Weighing gestures and tones and feeling out the tension. What unease had settled over Otogakure seemed decidedly lacking in the presence of the pair, and while it was no surprise given the intimidating presence of the more decidedly masculine of the two, it did catch his interest that the woman seemed well at ease in closing the distance between them. Even so, what calculation filtered through his mind proved absent in the dark amber hue of his stare. In fact, it wasn't until the man voiced notice of an unseen presence that the boy's expression saw any shift at all.[break][break]
The narrow of his eyes was faint, the downward tilt of his chin subtle as the man turned his eyes toward the treeline. The very hiding place the shinobi had seen fit to disguise himself. It wasn't beyond the genin, the way the man's eyes lingered. He'd been spotted, and as the stranger's focus stuck, he moved smoothly to step himself further into the shadows, letting the dark swallow him whole as the leaves littering the forest floor crackled underfoot.[break][break]
He wouldn't flinch from it. What good would it do him? At this point there was no concealing the noise, so the shinobi simply let the sound resound, keeping regrets to himself and his movements as smooth and controlled as he could manage. Gently, he ducked himself down, stepping quietly slip behind the trunk of the tree he'd rest his hand against only a moment prior.[break][break]
Koma didn't venture far. Or anywhere at all, really. He simply slinked himself quietly to the opposite side of the tree, keeping his head down to listen on. He'd bank on the hope that they'd assume he fled from the scene. As little a surprise as it was to be noticed so quickly, he wouldn't stop in pressing his luck just yet.
"Don't get so jumpy. It's not like we're in enemy territory," Makoto chuckled in dismissal, leaning back on a slab of rock. "Yer eyes are probably goin' bad is all."
The fact that something - or maybe someone - was lurking close by didn't bother the Kiri Jounin much. Better to assume that she was constantly being watched, whether it was by the enemy or Otogakure. Regardless, she could always smell an attack coming from a mile away, but the vibe she felt now had little in common with an ambush in the making.
"Or ya got a secret admirer ya never told me about."
This time her jest was followed by a subtle shift in her posture as the Inuzuka sniffed at the air, probing for anything suspicious. The kunoichi could usually locate her ninken in a heartbeat thanks to her clan's special techniques, but not so much as a whiff of canine was coming from the direction Seiichi was interested in. So it begged the question: was he right or was he really going senile?
"Hey!" Makoto shouted brazenly toward the trees, abandoning any sense of tact/ "Ya got five seconds to show yerself! Then I'm comin' over there and draggin' ya out!" The Kiri Jounin suddenly straightened her posture and took a firm tone, looking the part of a scolding mother. Well, except for the fanged smile she wore, which appeared to be more indicative of a challenge. "ONE!" If it turned out to be an enemy spy, there was no way she would let them escape. But if it really was just some dumb beast like Makoto anticipated, then she would make a meal out of it.
[attr="class","APP3"]"No," he spoke to correct her, "they're recovering-- having to see you again and all." Seiichi had quipped without a beat missed, firing from the hip as if he emptied the clip. If anyone had truly been there, and their focus could spare expanding beyond the rataplan of their heart, it was easy to glean from how they spoke to one another that they were on better terms than simply ninja after the other's head. Still, Seiichi could have helped by being a little less rude; one could wager that a man who made company with broken boulders and fallen trees was capable of conjuring some inkling of kindness from the most sunless recesses of his heart. Not this Jounin of Kumogakure, apparently, as his response abandoned all hope of quelling future insults.
His brow furrowed and pinched, his eyes narrowing to improve his mundane vision if not only by a smidgen. Despite his focus, there were limits to his senses-- he had been of no remarkable bloodline and any ritual he had obscured or erased from public knowledge afforded him no additional talent in this field. The Jounin of Kirigakure, who now called out in the distance he faced, was better equipped for for this and even she harbored her own doubts. That wouldn't stop her from counting down, though.
"TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE."
He called out, ruining what fun she had instore for herself. Seiichi closed in now, looking as if he were a mountain that moved as that large, bulky frame of his drew closer with footsteps that were worth twice that of a normal persons. With his head lowered he peered from beneath the muzzle of his pelt, angled in such a manner that it seemed as if some man-bear pursued them. Not an iota of concern had been generated by the man in his approach. Unlike Makoto, he gave no warning and was bound to offer less in opportunity; however, with the words of the Raikage upon his heart, he'd be on his best behavior.
Five seconds. The threat rang with some dull sense of familiarity in his ears. The memories the words stirred instilled him something far different than a sense of urgency, though as the woman called out the first number of her countdown, he soon came to register what the severity of the consequences may be. His gaze wandered itself toward the tangle of twigs and leaves composing the bush serving as his cover. Already he was lifting himself obediently to his feet. Perhaps it was fortunate, seeing as the countdown was being rushed to a conclusion.[break][break]
Stood upright, Koma stepped himself forward, face lifted toward the pair across the water as his steps carved noisily through the bush to see his meager stature revealed on the other side. His alliance was made obvious by his attire, contrasting hues of the typical Rain shinobi resting loose over his figure while the circle of a conical hat rest in wait against his back. The headband secured around his upper arm only further cemented his nation of origin.[break][break]
There was no hint of tension in the easy rest of his shoulders, no alarm in his eyes or worry to crinkle the line of his brow. Though the thought drift through his mind that he might apologize for intruding, he couldn't deny the fact that he wasn't sorry, rendering such formalities little more than lip service. Useless.[break][break]
"Secret admirer," he admit, refusing to raise his voice even with the trickle of the river that stood between them.[break][break]
It seemed his tone was equally void of threat or worry. Simple, light, and to the point. Now that he was out in the open, it was apparent that the little genin had nothing to hide - something evidenced by the fact that he took another step nearer, sandals splashing an entrance into the shallows of the river.[break][break]
"I didn't want to interrupt."[break][break]
The calm eyes that had leveled themselves toward Makoto lift to level themselves with mount Seiichi, a vague curiosity reflected from their depths.
"Hey wa--!" Makoto was about to interrupt the bear's reckless charge, slightly disappointed that she wouldn't get to finish her threat, when she suddenly remembered who exactly she was dealing with here. Words wouldn't make a difference to Seiichi when he was already gung-ho about catching the sneak. Like always, the Kumo ninja was quick to take the initiative and ruin her fun. "Ugh."
Either way, the pressure was enough to bring the situation to a head, forcing the guest to finally show themselves. And what a show it was! Rather than some animal popping its head out of the brush or an army of samurai leaping out to attack, out came a ninja with the markings of the Rain Village. A very young looking one too, with a quiet tone to match his unshaken demeanor.
After she realized that no more than a child was the cause of Seiichi's caution, the Inuzuka woman couldn't contain her amusement in the slightest. "HAHAHAH!" she exclaimed, tossing her head back in a fit of howling laughter. "That's it? No way! Hahaha! Ya sure know how to pick 'em!" She had to admit, seeing another ninja here was pretty unexpected but the kid didn't give off any dangerous vibes whatsoever. So to Makoto, it wasn't even worth the effort to question his motives for being there.
That said, she wouldn't stop torturing her Cloud adversary any time soon, as his overreaction was too precious to ignore. "Don't look now Seiichi, I think this one's gunna bite! Looks real dangerous~" she teased between chuckles. "Sure ya don't need my help?"
[attr="class","APP3"]Where laughter built in her core and ripped forth with a hearty laugh, Seiichi expressed the literal opposite: nothing. Instead that visage of his remained stony as the weight of his gaze mounted the newcomer, quick to analyze and decipher preemptive actions. As she called from behind him, jeers and taunts in no manner alien to how she treated him, the Kumo Jounin remained taken to his silence. He watched as the body emerged from the thickets, sandals kicking up water as he revealed himself for the first time to the twin Jounin, a consequence realized by their own failure. It was a boy, tender in age as he was speech for anything less than remarkable focus could find that his voice was easily lost in the enveloping cacophony that was Makoto's mounting laughter and the waters which babbled themselves, bubbling as it split along stones and took to paths hewn by nature. Seiichi had stopped abruptly, short of his initial path as powerful arms crossed beneath his chest, his nostrils in turn flaring as a deep breath was taken and he filled with air. It certainly made him larger, which was hard to believe given his uncommon statuesque.
"Do not mind the cackling witch for she believes she has a meal," he mused loud enough for both parties to catch the jeer, despite his back being turned to Makoto for the time being. The shinobi continued to eye the young man and allowed synapses to continue their fire. Seiichi acted only in his silence as he gleaned remarkably little from his style of dress-- he saw no visible headband to discern his country of origin and he knew of no influential group that shared in the features of the young shinobi. At the very least, judging by their attempt at stealth, Seiichi could safely assume they were academy trained and no mere civilian with a penchant for trouble. There was no threatening aura that enveloped their persona, no clear intent of harm projected by those soft, red depths. Even as a veteran with more advanced martial prowess, Seiichi found little sign that there had been tension in his form that could telegraph ill-intent. For the time being, it seemed, the boy was harmless.
He also was concise and Seiichi couldn't discount that virtue, tallying it as a merit.
"Why did you allow us to find you?" The man, larger than life himself, soon poised a question to the boy who was nothing like him. His voice was long and strong, a natural rumble to the baseline of the timbre he spoke with as words escaped from between his lips and took to filling the space between them. The way the veteran saw it was that if he truly wished to stay hidden, then every effort would have been made to do so. In the decades he had known Makoto, he had understood this as her way of breaking ice -- even when they had fought on opposite sides, facing off against the other, she spoke little different than this. The only thing that changed, really, is what she chose to tease about at the time. Secret admirer? It could have been either one of them, both respectable ninja in regards to talent and combat. "Your name and what will you do now?" The interrogation continued and Seiichi acted with a concealed motive, curious if he'd crumble underneath this pressure and perhaps reveal more than what had already been said. At the moment he was unsure and it could not be helped. He noted an unnatural placidity to his visible aura as his features betrayed no thought as, in the past, Genin under his command had not found it uncommon to tremble in his presence as his voice boomed with its stentorian quality.
Last Edit: Sept 10, 2021 11:29:52 GMT by Seiichi Koji
And mind he didn't. Makoto's riot of laughter fell on all but deaf ears, only the vaguest sense of curiosity to reflect from the fiery color of his eyes as he spared a glance toward her outward display of humor. Koma simply stood there, making no further steps to advance as the water cut its way around the shapes of his ankles.[break][break]
His answer was silence, focus drifting itself back for the halted figure that folded the trunks of his arms across his chest as he pose the first of his questions to the boy. Despite the apparent discrepancy in physical might, the shinobi showed no sign of cowering, standing in quiet attention as he heard out the foreign ninja's request. At first, it seemed the first of his questions would go unanswered, as soon after his request for a name he saw an answer. First in action, then in word.[break][break]
"Koma."[break][break]
The boy had bowed himself forward in respectful greeting, showing no hesitation in finding the man's eyes once more as he right his posture. His introduction was simple and to the point, much as the plain tone that carried the name across the water.[break][break]
"I didn't want to give cause for alarm. I'm not here as an enemy."[break][break]
With the words offered, his gaze turn itself for Makoto, curious if she might find some joke in his straightforward reply. His posture seemed much in harmony with his words - no trace of fear or doubt in the tranquil nature of his stare. What little his gaze offered showed as harmless curiosity, some quiet thought spun slow in his mind as he took measure of how the pair received him. It was no long-winded explanation, but to the little shinobi, his reasoning was sound. His age seemed to play little part in his manner of speech, offering some clue to his rigid upbringing.[break][break]
The boy that stood himself in the murmur of the river thought himself more a small man than the child that he appeared to be.[break][break]
Attention fixed back toward the pillar of a man ahead of him, his head bowed itself forward in polite request.[break][break]
"I'd stay. If I have the choice. As I'd mentioned before..."[break][break]
His voice trailed off a bit as he pick up his chin.[break][break]
Rolling her eyes at the developing scene, Makoto had to wonder why Seiichi was really entertaining this 'admirer'. She never had the impression that he was a man of boundless patience, especially when it came to dealing with kids. But there they were, chatting up a storm with barely ten words to spare between them. It was sort of adorable, to be honest.
"Heh."
Makoto's fingers wove the Tiger seal.
Suddenly, in a burst of lightning fast speed the Inuzuka had vanished from sight and reappeared just behind the genin. A palpable pressure emanated merely from the way she loomed over him, contrasting Seiichi's steely bearing with a feeling much more animalistic. Clearly it was meant to test the kid's nerve, since now he was caught standing between two veteran ninja.
"Why stick around? Sounds like yer lookin' for somethin'."
The Kiri jounin inched awfully close from behind, giving the stranger a couple of quick sniffs. His scent alone didn't raise any alarms but that hardly supported his claims of innocence. At least it smelled like the genin was telling the truth about being alone, to which Makoto signaled to Seiichi with a subtle shake of her head.
[attr="class","APP3"]Without speaking, Koma had expressed himself in volumes with is uncommon measures of silence and metered responses, a rare discipline and restrain exercised at every opportunity. It raised an air of suspicion, expanding itself to an atmosphere of uneasiness as to what made such leaned behaviors in a youth so possible. There was no denying the tact behind each action, a critical amount of care and forethought weighted against his every thought as it levied from him his own identity, the boy little more than the name that slipped coolly from between youthful lips. The jounin recognized that, to this point in his life, he'd never quite met another like Koma and felt--immediately--that he never would again as the world did not work i patterns and would not propagate the ingredients to rear a boy such as himself for millennia to come.
"Useless answer,"
Seiichi returned in that firm voice of his, no less commanding in attention than the rest of his uncommon statuesque as those powerful arms remained folded beneath the other as his deep and languid breaths were drawn through his nostrils and further expanded that mighty chest. "If you hadn't failed in your stealth, then there would be no need to reassure us as you are." His point was a fair one, for if Koma had exercised further care in his stealth then this conversation would have never come to fruition anyway. Those stalwart eyes remained on the young man, sea-green lenses that found little reason to peel away from Koma as he let those words sink it. The lesson he taught was a difficult to wrap one's head around and there was seldom a kinder manner to express his words, but Seiichi had never been known for his poise or his etiquette.
". . ."
Seiichi's unfolded those impossibly large arms and he began moving forward without an announcement, his footsteps to unsettled the water of the stream. It was clear that following its path would bring him before Koma, who stood in her waters and allowed the stream to curl around the slender shape of small legs. Seiichi made no mention of what he prepared to do as he drew closer, the gap between him and Koma had been seized. The Kuma of Kumo was soon in front of the boy when suddenly he attempted to push him over, his leg utilized in the process. No consequence was spared of him as it was a forceful push, should it connect. Enough force was put behind it that Koma would be forced onto his backside in the stream, splashing into the water and wetting himself. It was meant to shock, it was meant to embarrass. Seiichi intended that this consequence would remain with him, a reminder that this was the least worst it could be and far danger rewards were earned on more unforgivable erring's.
"Don't allow me to find you, next time."
His words fled between his lips as if they were a warning, a promise of action should he fail to oblige his request. If Koma had taken a fall, Seiichi offered no hand to stand back up. He could act for himself. He looked to Makoto, who he assumed stepped away several paces on Seiichi's approach. The jounin did not send him away, he did not vanish him.
". . ."
It was a hard-learned lessons, but a great one altogether. With his own strength, Koma would never suffer that again.
"Stand yourself back up."
Would he just knock him down again?
Last Edit: Sept 13, 2021 4:36:58 GMT by Seiichi Koji
