Chapter 1-24

If the all-around situation wasn't so incredibly annoying the moment might actually be considered fairly relaxing. An old bamboo rod in my hands, the waves of the lake gently rocking my tiny fishing boat, and an uncommonly clear sky letting the sun bath me in a pleasant warmth, yeah pretty nice, if I wasn't currently in the fucking Land of Water starring at a run-down fishing village, less than a dozen wooden huts to be perfectly honest, dotted around a spot at the shore.

Pursing my lips, I couldn't help but twist my tongue in annoyance. The phantom pains of the seal removal still bothering me after two weeks. Still, I shook my head, glad that I had brought up the point with the Jonin Commander in a later briefing.

I hadn't been smug, but it had been a close call when I had slapped down my bingo book on the table and had presented the Nara patriarch with a picture of Ao, the famous Kiri Hunter-nin, who had also stolen a Byakugan during the Third Shinobi World War.

Since he was rumored to be a prominent figure in the ever-growing rebel fraction I had argued, that his Byakugan would instantly spot the foreign chakra resting on my tongue and that that issue would make my mission, to advance in their ranks, impossible without getting discovered.

It had been a feeble attempt to get out of the mission, we, Shikaku and I, both had known it the second I had brought up the problem, but at least I had gotten a consolation prize in the form of vocal freedom.

Talking about freedom, the freedom I had enjoyed living my cover story here at the ass-end of nowhere was apparently coming to an end given the two genin-level shinobi decked out in greys and blues corralling the villagers to the dock area, the only obvious open space in the town.

As predicted by my superiors it was only a matter of time before rebel forces would venture to these parts, so it wasn't exactly a surprise. Hiding a sigh of defeat I signaled the waving shinobi on the shore, that I saw him and was on my way.

Rowing at a sedated pace towards the dock gave me an opportunity to go through my story again, which was somewhat convoluted for my taste, but like the whole mission, there was nothing I could do about it.

Dad was a Chunin in Kiri, who raised me by himself, but when his mother had grown sick, he had packed his bags and me to care for her in her last days here in her hometown.

Sounded nice, the reality however was a bit messed up. The woman in question had been a positively ancient lady, who was a Kiri kunoichi herself in days long by, who had retired to this little corner out of the way. 'My father' was a fellow Konoha Anbu, who more or less sold the story over the course of a week to the other villagers while keeping the old lady quiet with poison and eventually killing her with it.

Stepping on the rickety dock I couldn't help but wonder if Konoha had some kind of grudge against this random old lady and had just decided to use the mission as a way to settle a petty score along the way.

Farfetched…but honestly… not impossible.

Making sure that my nervous demeanor was still firmly in place I joined the equally nervous villagers and waited for those two jokers to get on with it.

"First things first," The young adult on the right began with a smile. "You have nothing to fear, we are ambassadors of Lady Terumi, we oppose the cruelties of the Fourth Mizukage."

I almost snorted, ambassadors?

'Mate, you are a glorified messenger.'

Keeping my thoughts to myself I listened with half an ear since I already knew what was coming.

"For that," The same guy continued. "we need your help." He finished in an almost dramatic fashion.

Suddenly his partner picked up for him, apparently, this was some kind of routine for them.

"We have lost friends." He declared equally theatrically. "That's why we ask those who are able, lend us your strength, join us, and help protect your fellow countrymen from needless bloodshed."

The dock was silent, the villagers stared almost starstruck at the two rebel recruiters. Word traveled far and fast, even here people heard of the rebels' 'heroics'. They really had the propaganda game down.

And despite myself, I was almost impressed by their over-the-top performance, almost, since I was a guy with a body count in the upper double digits and that guy predominantly thought it was cute.

Internally sighing, I began my little acting gig.

Shoulders up, back straight, body drenched in patriotism and thoughts on future heroics, I presented the picture of a truly inspired young lad and took a big step forward from the crowd.

"I want to join!" I declared loudly, desire burning brightly in my voice.

"Me, too!" A voice proclaimed further down the crowd and I had to hide an annoyed frown.

'Who dares to steal my thunder?'

I almost rolled my eyes when I spotted an old local farmer with missing fingers and a back, that would make Quasimodo wince in sympathy.

Silence.

I had the feeling everybody, including the two 'ambassadors' had to bite on their tongues to refrain from making a blunt comment and ruin the inspiring moment.

Turning back to the men in charge here I almost laughed out loud when they exchanged subtle glances.

"Thank you, we are truly happy to see such commitment in this village." The first guy began, obviously searching for words and to get this over with.

"Do you have any experience with shinobis?" He asked eventually.

"I was a Genin during the Second War." The old farmer declared proudly before his visage turned ugly. "And a Missing-nin killed my wife."

Well, so much for the inspiring mood, I thought with a grimace.

Before the recruiter could give his condolences or something and waste more of my time, I raised my hand like a good little boy.

"I never visited an academy, but my father was a Chunin in the village before we joined my Grandmother here. He worshipped the Demon of the Hidden Mist so he taught me accordingly." I said neutrally, showing that I was unsure how much that meant.

"I have some chakra control, can do the Hiding in Mist Technique and some other Water Ninjutsu." I revealed with a shrug.

Catching the guys exchanging glances I waited for them to come to a verdict.

"Who is your father?"

"And where is he now?"

"Toyozo Yukimura, when my Grandmother died, the drunken fool left to join that Zabuza fellow." I replied easily, resentment shining through. Apparently, the guy was…had been…a legit character until Anbu had removed him to fabricate the little plot.

A lot of prep-work, but I wasn't going to complain, since it basically made me a blank slate, which was far easier to work with.

"I'm Sanzo Yukimura, by the way." I gave a friendly wave to give my character a bit more flair, a proper personality so to speak, which was somewhat in line with my own character.

"Let's see what you got."

A small little chapter to announce my return to this story. My other story, Falling Down, just went past 50k words and is at a nice point to pause for the time being, while I can do some progress with this new arc.