A long, white shawl gently grazed the warm concrete of a Konoha road as it swayed back and forth

A long, white shawl gently grazed the warm concrete of a Konoha road as it swayed back and forth. The blank cloak was slightly tattered and looked practically ancient, especially while in comparison to the other clothing decorating the tall, teenaged boy whose shoulders it was hung about. He was hunched, the teen. Only slightly. Just enough to give him an air of eeriness that permeated the serene morning fog of early morning Konohagakure. The sun hadn't yet poked through the low-hanging clouds, rendering the entire village gloomy and calm. The Leaf was sleeping.

"Gee, it sure is quiet," remarked the boy, his words choked by the stifling haze, "But then again, that's the way I like it." His tone wasn't fitting. He sounded cheery, energetic. Seemed rather out of place in an environment like that morning's. But then, he always sounded like that. Through sealed lips he hummed, nostrils flaring ever so slightly each time he reached a high note. Navy sandals scuffed noisily against the paved road.

That morning was the dawn of the teen's first day on a three-man ninja squad. The day before, he had shown up at the ceremony, just like all the other academy students who had graduated from school. Just like them, he had been assigned to a team. Then, just like them, he had trekked home and fallen into sleep. But he was willing to make a friendly wager that none of them had dreamt of a cloaked man guiding them along a path, gradually nearing a tall, marble door…

Anyways, it was just a dream. And like all dreams Tei-kon dismissed it to the back of his clouded mind without a further thought. After all, dreams don't mean anything, right?

He was sitting now, resting his tall and awkward form against the front door of the Ninja Academy. His right leg was bent at the knee, and he was hugging it tightly to his chest. His left was splayed out lazily across the stone terrace that supported the entrance to the massive building. The shawl had been tossed across the wooden railing and was hanging there, completely still in the stiff, morning air. Tei-kon had removed his sandals and placed them in a neat pile by his side; his bare toes were now curling and uncurling every few seconds.

The lanky young shinobi was wearing his usual apparel: a black tee-shirt adorned with the white silhouette of a shuriken in the center, khaki shorts that reached down to just below his knees with two buttoned pockets on each leg, and black leather gloves. His black-as-night hair was rather unkempt: he never combed it, but somehow it still remained somewhat straight. His pale gray eyes were down-cast, his brow gently furrowed by barely noticeable black eyebrows. His pale white skin was flawless and smooth, giving him a young, well-nourished appearance. A devilish grin twisted his calm features; it looked as though he was thinking about something funny. But he probably wasn't. Really, that grin was always there.

A sigh escaped his lungs. Broke the silence.

"How long 'til this place opens up? Gosh, feels like I've been waitin' for ages!" Nariume Tei-kon was talking to himself again. It's not all that uncommon, really. Especially for the clinically insane. This morning was special; it was different from the other foggy mornings. Because this morning preceded the day on which Tei-kon and this teammates would meet their sensei. The Jounin who would become a father-figure to them, teach them, befriend them. Help them. Help him. Tei-kon was looking forward to it. And when Tei-kon is looking forward to something, well, even the shortest wait can seem like an eternity. So one minute passed. And three hours of grinning and waiting began.