Kureigu awoke early the next day, his rest disturbed by the slanting rays of light which filtered into the room. The Hyūga boy was in no way a morning person, but sleeping in was often not an option in his future line of work. He went through his usual routine mechanically: taking a piss, brushing his teeth, and then dressing himself. He lumbered out of the room after, but not before packing some provisions in a bag and slinging it over his back. Whenever early morning situations arose, Kureigu trained on being capable even while drowsy, rather than trying to mold himself into a morning person. Nevertheless, the pale-eyed boy had mostly shaken off his sleepiness by the time he arrived at the unconnected room where Tweek had slept.
Kureigu knocked on one of the door's exposed beams, and received in reply a loud crash from inside the room. Kureigu heard a shrill yelp, followed by muffled mutterings and shuffling across the floor, followed finally by the wild boy's appearance in the now-open doorway. Tweek sported the same tunic that he had worn the day previously, the scant outfit revealing a number of cuts and scrapes along the length of his arms and more around his knees. The only furniture in the small room were a bed mat, a modest end table, and a chair, the latter two of which lay overturned on the matting, evidently the cause of the earlier sound.
"Oh!" Tweek exclaimed, just as jumpy as ever despite the time of day. "It's— urnh you, Kureigu. Ah! Uh, Master Hyūga, sir."
"Don't call me 'master' and don't call me 'sir'," Kureigu said automatically. "I don't like how those sound… you maybe wanna call my dad that, though."
"Ok, I won't call you master or sir. Got it, um… Mr. Hyūga?"
"Just use Kureigu. Everything else makes me sound stuck up."
"Will do… Kureigu," Tweek affirmed. He still stood in the doorway, trembling involuntarily as he watched his new boss in anticipation."
"Are you ready to get on the road?" Kureigu questioned. "I mean… I'm guessing you don't have much to take with you." Tweek nodded his head vigorously in response, eager to prove his eagerness. As Kureigu opened his mouth to continue on, the wiry boy's eyes suddenly opened wide.
"Wait!" Tweek exclaimed abruptly. In a manner of seconds he placed the uprooted furniture back upright and returned to his place in the doorway. "Ok, now I'm ready."
"Um… ok. You could have just left them," Kureigu said, eyeing Tweek warily. "Let's just get out of here." The Hyūga boy turned and started to walk down the hallway while Tweek shut his door and fell in line behind him. He wavered for a minute, unsure of how close a retainer should be relative to his lord, eventually settling in neither at Kureigu's hip nor at a distance from him.
After a short while they exited the inn. The bright sunlight outside caused Tweek to blink rapidly, for once not a result of his spasms. The pale-eyed boy looked on owlishly and thought that Tweek's jitteriness sort of reminded him of the frantic little guinea pig he had back at home. He gave his new vassal a moment to adjust to the brightness, but did not speak his mind.
"So, did you sleep on the table or something last night?" Kureigu abruptly asked. "Or were you already awake when I got there? I thought you were still gonna be asleep when I knocked."
"Th-the second one! I… don't sleep much." Or ever, really, Tweek added in his mind. He looked off to the side and bit his lip, staring far away but at nothing in particular.
Not hard to imagine, Kureigu thought, glancing at the bruise-like bags under his eyes. He watched a tremor rack through Tweek's body, which he ascribed to the boy's usual antics. "Anyway… get a move on, Tweek. We're going."
"Do we have to go as fast as we did yesterday?" the retainer asked reservedly, spinning his head around to face his ten-year-old boss.
"No, we don't have to…" Kureigu answered, causing the wiry boy to relax his shoulders faintly. "...but I want to, so we will," the robed boy finished self-assuredly, thinking back to the previous day.
/
Only through trial and error were the two able to travel fast enough to reach the inn in time for dinner. They discovered that, while Tweek had straight-line speed in spades, he was sorely lacking in finesse. Leaping from branch to branch, the fastest way to move through woodlands, required more coordination and delicacy than Tweek thought he had in him. When the pale boy blanched at the prospect, Kureigu gave his first ever command down to the retainer. He got Tweek into the treetops and making attempts, but the early results mostly validated Tweek's apprehensions. The older boy struggled mightily to keep his footing during the jumps, to find and track the firmest branches among so many, and to apply just the right amount of force each time he leapt. Kureigu mostly kept quiet as the poor boy slipped and fell, except for one instance where Tweek missed his target branch entirely, for which he gave him plenty of shit.
They eventually gave up trying to keep Tweek in the canopy, settling into a brisk pace with Kureigu in the treetops and his servant on the earth below. It was difficult to keep up with Kureigu from the ground, but Tweek tried to compensate with determination. While he kept up for a good while, Tweek's endurance unfortunately failed to match his resolution. Kureigu was forced to stop when he noticed that his underling was off to the side, retching into a bush of chrysanthemums. Kureigu's ink-like hair flowed out as he fluidly pivoted at the next branch, reversing his velocity before tracing an arc to the ground below. He took a few steps towards the still-heaving Tweek before stopping. Kureigu watched the boy for a few silent seconds, hands folded into waves of azure silk, until the hoarse noises subsided.
"You ok?" Kureigu asked in his nasally, habitually flat voice. In response he received a violent exhale from Tweek, who was presently fighting to catch his breath. Noting the lack of phlegm, Kureigu took it as an affirmation. "Why don't you take a break for a while? You stay here, I'll be back in a bit."
"But—, but what if some—, but what if something happens to you out there?" Tweek managed to reply through gasping breaths. "Don't— don't you remember what happened the last time you were in a place like this?" Tweek asked delicately, almost hesitantly. "Isn't it my job to protect you?"
Kureigu offered no response beyond narrowing his gaze at the other boy, his expression intense yet unreadable. They stared at each other for a few seconds, Tweek transparent and Kureigu shrouded, until the silence became excruciating for the former. "Oh gods, I didn't imagine all of that, did I? It's all been such a blur these last few days! Gah! Stupid!" As if to accentuate his point, Tweek capped off his speech by slamming his head against a nearby tree.
Watching the episode unfold pulled Kureigu from his stupor. "The fuck, dude, stop that! Just calm down, Tweek, you didn't make that up." Kureigu switched to a softer tone, one usually reserved for when he was talking to his pet, although his companion could not yet pick up on any difference. "We wouldn't have hired you if all that never happened. Right now, I'm just leaving to take a leak… I don't need you to follow me. Alright?"
Tweek gave a shallow nod, before another convulsion jerked his head sideways. Confirmation received, Kureigu jumped back into the treeline for a bit, dropping down once he was certainly out of sight of the place he'd left Tweek behind. He waited for a few seconds, then flared his Byakugan, peering deeply through the forest in the direction he'd come from. After making sure that the novice retainer hadn't followed him, Kureigu shifted his focus outwards in all directions, pushing his range outward in search of a familiar figure. It took perhaps thirty seconds for Kureigu to find his target in the cluttered forest, and less than one second after that for him to flip the bastard the middle finger.
When Hyūga Shōtai did not budge from her perch in the treetops, Kureigu lowered his central digit and waved for the surveilling kunoichi to come over to him. The shrug he received in response annoyed Kureigu, enough to mouth out "Get the fuck over here," to the woman a few dozen meters away. A few leaves rustling overhead signaled his cousin's arrival, who hung cross-armed and upside down from a nearby branch, channeling chakra through her soles to stick to the wood hands-free.
"How's it going, little man? I'd say long time no see, but I don't think you'd believe me," Shōtai said cheekily. Kureigu did not respond to the disparaging moniker; he'd learned years ago that acknowledging her barbs only encouraged the douche.
"I need to ask you for something."
Shōtai gave an exaggerated sigh, swaying her long, dark hair which nearly reached the ground below. "Aww, and here I was thinking my baby cousin just wanted to see me."
"Listen," Kureigu continued on, again ignoring Shōtai's remark. "I know you're out here because of my dad, but I don't care—"
"Whoa, whoa, who says Tōma had anything to do with it? I just wanted to get some fresh air and exercise… or is that something people only do up in the mountains?" Shōtai said, her expression feigning innocence but with an undercurrent of teasing to it.
"Shut up, dickhead!" Kureigu flared, bristling at the insinuation. However, it did not take him long to reign in his temper. "What I was about to say, before you interrupted me, is that you better not let Tweek notice you following us. Like, at all. I've been checking and you've come close a few times already."
Shōtai looked away and furrowed her brow in response. She brought a hand down, stroking her chin silently for a moment in a convincing show of concentration. "So the kid's name is Tweek, huh? Tōma never actually told me that," she chuckled, flippantly contradicting her own story. "But wait, why do you want me to stay away? I wanted to introduce myself to your new friend!"
"I've known him for like, less than a day total. He's not my friend," Kureigu corrected. "But he'll freak out if he realizes someone's been spying on us. I don't want to deal with that… and he doesn't need the stress. I know we're not too far from the town right now, but I'm hoping to go away from the group tomorrow too. I don't want to have to ask someone else… Do you get it?"
"Yeah, I understand…" Shōtai leaned back for a moment and then flipped off of the branch, twirling herself in midair before landing right behind her cousin. Before he could react, Kureigu found himself engulfed in the young woman's grip, one of Shōtai's arms snaking around his neck and shoulders and the other messing up his hair. "The little prince wants to spend more time with his big cousin! How could I say no?"
"Wha— fuck off! I just said I don't want to see your dumbass, get off of me!" Kureigu protested, pushing against her hold.
/
Kureigu's face shifted to an indignant pout. At the same time, he became gradually aware of yelling in his ear and motion in front of him.
"—gu? Come on, answer me! Oh gods, why isn't he responding?"
Kureigu refocused, realizing that Tweek was the source of the commotion. The high strung boy was waving his hands erratically in front of him, close to Kureigu but not enough so to touch him. "Huh? Oh, sorry… Anyways, let's get going now."
Tweek breathed a sigh of relief before falling into place below and slightly behind Kureigu. Once again they pushed the matter of teaching Tweek to tree-leap to a later time, although the pair paced themselves better the second time Tweek ran. Their trip went smoothly; Shōtai even seemed to respect Kureigu's prior request, consistently keeping a respectable distance every time the clan heir pulsed his Byakugan to check.
/
It was late morning when the pair plus one arrived at their destination, a medium sized town along the way to the Leaf Village. Although a bit tired from the run, Tweek felt fit to burst. He desperately wanted to know what Kureigu had planned, but was hesitant to ask considering the Hyūga hadn't offered the information himself. He settled in behind the boy who was now his master, wringing his hands to try and burn off some of his nervous energy. After a while Kureigu stopped before a storefront, turned around, and was greeted with the sight of his retainer shaking like a volcano mere moments before eruption.
"Um…" Kureigu questioned. "What's up with you?"
"Nng— nothing!" Even by his usual standards, Tweek's response was shrill.
"You're good?"
"Hrn— yup! I'm ok."
Kureigu sighed. "Just tell me what's wrong, dude. You are kind of a shitty liar," he said bluntly. "I really can't tell what's going on in your head most of the time."
"What are we doing here?" Tweek yelped, finally relieving the pressure inside of him. "Why did you bring me out to this town?"
Kureigu stared at him blankly. "That's it? That's why you're so worked up?"
"I… I…" Tweek scrambled under Kureigu's gaze, somehow feeling as though he needed to justify his mannerisms to the other boy. "I just… wanted to know what was happening."
Kureigu blinked. "Well, the rest of the group will be following us, just slower… we went on ahead so we could spar on our own before they get here. I figured you didn't want all those people watching us for our first combat session." We'll still have one set of eyes on us, but you don't need to know that, Kureigu added in his thoughts. "Before that, though, we've got to get you some new clothes. That thing you're wearing is just plain sad."
"It is?" Tweek's expression fell, but quickly bounced back up. "We're really gonna— ah replace it, though? You've got mo-money?"
"I've got enough," Kureigu said casually while pulling a wallet out from his bag. He opened it briefly, flashing the ryō inside before putting it away and starting towards the shop's door. Tweek's eyes fell on the pouch and lingered until a second or two after it disappeared into the larger bag. His stare went unnoticed by Kureigu, who opened the door and told him to go inside.
Kureigu strolled indifferently through the unremarkable store while Tweek fell into line behind him. The latter boy swiveled his head, taking in the vibrant colors of the hanging garments around him. He gawked for a second upon noticing a full-length mirror in the corner of the shop.
About halfway into the store Kureigu stopped and took two articles off of the racks, handing Tweek a yellow long sleeve shirt to try on along with a pair of blue cargo pants. Rather than stick around for Tweek to change outfits, the clan heir split away momentarily to unenthusiastically browse the other offerings.
Kureigu gave a few minutes' space before making his way towards the small changing room in the corner. He turned the bend and stopped at the sight before him. There was his retainer, lean frame hidden beneath gold and blue fabric, engrossed in his own reflection in the mirror. Kureigu watched wordlessly for a moment as Tweek tentatively brought an arm up to the glass and traced his reflection from shoulder to waist. Water pooled at the corners of Tweek's eyes; tears trickled out down his face while his body shook and shivered as violently as it had outside of the store. Kureigu started forward, intent on not making a scene, and grabbed some loose cloth of Tweek's sleeve. Tweek spun sharply at the contact, and for a second Kureigu stared into misty orbs of blue and green.
Tweek quickly jerked downwards into a low bow, body still trembling with sobs. "Th-thank you, Kureigu," he choked out. "Thank you so— nngh much."
The clan heir was taken aback, unable to verbalize a response to the display of undisguised emotion. He looked away for a second, noticing that a few of the other patrons had turned to look at the pair, before grabbing the other boy's shoulder. "Tweek, it's nothing. Don't mention it, ok?" Kureigu said, a tint of exasperation concealed in his voice.
Tweek's hand instinctively shot up and clenched Kureigu's where it lay on his shoulder, surprising the student ninja with the raw strength of his grip. The strange boy slowly rose, no longer crying but still breathing unevenly. Subconsciously, he gave the appendage one more squeeze before dropping it. "Thank you," he repeated, closer to a whisper this time.
Kureigu took a step back and immediately turned his head forty-five degrees to the side. For a moment the lightest stroke of crimson adorned his cheeks."Seriously. I said don't mention it. They're just clothes," he said plainly. "Besides, they don't even fit right. Look, the sleeves are too long."
Tweek's sleeves indeed trailed far down his slender limbs; only his fingers and the very top of his palm were uncovered when his arms hung at his sides. "I don't mind," Tweek said hastily, snapping his forearms up so that the sleeves would fall below his palms. "I can ah manage."
"Why settle, though? Those are just going to get in your way. Go find a smaller size."
Tweek complied despite his protestations, although he was unable to find the same exact hue and settled for a mostly similar mustard gold shirt. The beginnings of another "Thank you" escaped from his lips after Kureigu paid for the article, but a glare from the Hyūga boy clammed Tweek up instantly.
They exited the store, making their way back into the forest surrounding the town before stopping at a spacious enough clearing they found. "This might be dumb to ask, but have you ever had a formal spar before?" Kureigu said as he set aside his supply bag. A strange noise emanated from Tweek's throat, but no words. "Is that a no?"
"What makes a fight form— agh formal?"
"Well, you're supposed to make a hand sign with each other first, to show honor and respect and all that crap adults like to lecture about…" Kureigu trailed off before a slight grin emerged on his face. "But I just want to get to the spar. How about we just fight and try not to kill each other?"
"I don't want to hurt you, though… isn't that the opposite of what I should do?"
Kureigu's visage clouded and his absent smile dissipated. "If you want to help me, then fight with everything you've got. I need to get stronger, Tweek, and that isn't going to happen if you hold back on me."
Tweek's twitches were less severe than usual, yet somehow he seemed as skittish as ever. "B-but what if you get hurt and then the town doesn't have anything to help you with I mean it didn't look that big and I don't know the way to—"
"Enough. I'm not asking, Tweek." Kureigu's Byakugan pulsed to life, punctuating his declaration. He raised his arms up into a combat pose and held it for a few moments, as if to give one final warning of his decision. The Hyūga prince bolted across the clearing, swiftly closing the distance between himself and his target. Tweek shook intensely throughout the advance, and only managed to bring his arms up haphazardly into a meager defensive posture. Kureigu forcefully thrust his arm toward Tweek's chest, but the twitchy fighter managed to jump away from the attack in the nick of time. The force of the strike continued through the air, managing to chip off a bit of bark from a tree behind where the boy had been standing.
Tweek's eyes were wide open as he stared at his young master. Uncertainty was apparent on his face, tension embedded in his limbs, yet he stood his ground as Kureigu advanced a second time. The Hyūga boy shot his right arm forward in another thrust, but Tweek took a quick step back in response. With his left hand, the wild boy grabbed the outstretched limb and jerked it up and out of the way, while his right arm leveled a jab at Kureigu's side. Rather than stop the punch directly, Kureigu brought his left arm down on top of Tweek's and guided it away and to his side, grabbing the wrist after the punch missed harmlessly. For an instant the pair stood deadlocked; the boy in yellow mustered a determined look which was met with a scowl. Abruptly Tweek felt a pressing pain in the wrist Kureigu held, a cry of hurt escaping his lips as he threw his other arm back to toss his opponent off of him.
The wiry boy instinctively grabbed his wrist, but the pain had already faded into an aching dullness. He recognized the feeling from his earlier encounters with the strange-eyed family, although he felt that the effect was not quite as hampering as before; he could fight through it this time. Blue-green eyes snapped back up, taking a second to relocate the robed boy who was now creeping up on him from the edges of his vision. Tweek spun in a semicircle, giving himself just enough time to face the fresh threat. Kureigu threw his arm forward once more, but Tweek noticed something was different. Instead of another palm strike as the Hyūga boy had done previously, this time he extended his middle and pointer fingers into a stabbing jab. The wild boy did not know the reason for the change, but he realized that the attack demanded a much greater commitment— an opening! Tweek bent his body down so that Kureigu's fingertips passed by overhead, and then snapped back up to deliver an earnest punch into the clan heir's stomach.
A second before contact, an instant of indecision caused Tweek to slightly pull back his blow. When his fist reached Kureigu's body, he was shocked to see that his attack had no effect, passing through the boy's robes instead of making contact. Time slowed down; a thousand different thoughts and instincts fought for priority in his head as Tweek watched his own fist travel unobstructed through the apparition of his sparring partner. A sudden pain driving into his back thigh grounded him back into the flow of battle and alerted him to the real Kureigu's location. Tweek pivoted to face him and brought his right arm up in defense, but the hasty attempt was easily intercepted by Kureigu's left arm while his right followed up with a clean shove that forced the lean boy back a few meters. Tweek tried to spring back up to his feet immediately, but stumbled as soon as he put weight on his hindered thigh.
Kureigu relaxed his Byakugan and shifted his stance. His new posture was blocky and stout, neither particularly guarded nor relaxed, like an owl hunched on a branch watching for prey. He inhaled deeply through his nose two or three times, but was seemingly far from exhaustion. "You're not taking this seriously," he said flatly. "If you were, you wouldn't be sucking this much."
"I— I didn't know you'd be using nnngh ninja techniques," Tweek panted out from one knee. His morning run and earlier excitement were catching up to him, leadening his limbs and straining his breath.
"Why would you assume that? I never said we couldn't."
"We never used them when we trained…" Tweek slipped.
"We?" Kureigu questioned. "Never mind. Forget about whatever you're used to… I don't care about that right now. Do you think a real ninja is going to spare me their ninjutsu? I want to practice a real fight, anything goes. Use any jutsu you got."
Something about the response made Tweek feel indignant, but he could not pin down what about it upset him. Indecision raked across his face while he grappled within his head. He grabbed a handful of grass in each hand in an effort to steady himself. "I can't fight like that," he spat, his voice dripping with frustration. "I only know one jutsu… and it's not something you use at a time like this."
Kureigu's eyes narrowed. "I already told you, Tweek. I need to get stronger. Do you get it? The clan needs me to be stronger. The village needs me to be stronger. People's lives are going to be in my hands, and depend on my eyes." A brief quiver stole across Kureigu's face, before it hardened into a sour expression. "And, and… do you know how fucking embarrassing it is for you to fight me like that? For you to think that I'm too weak, too delicate to be a real opponent? I don't need your pity."
Kureigu's voice had risen considerably over the course of his speech, although he was hardly aware of it. He paused for a beat, and his veil was punctured— the mask of petulance and indignation he wore was now perforated by quills of fear and desperation. His voice wavered, "What happened in the mountains… I'm not going to let it happen again. Ever. Now, help me train."
Tweek, with his head turned down, only mumbled his response, but the pale-eyed boy could not make out the slurry of words. Kureigu's started, intending to speak again, but stopped when the strange boy returned to his feet.
"If you're really telling me to use it… I will." Tweek's eyes had not left the ground by the time he started to reply, but now they were fixed on Kureigu. His body was braced and his muscles flexed, so that his usual twitches and spasms were mostly subdued. Not the minutest trace of sympathy showed on Tweek's taut face as he stared down his opposite.
Kureigu returned nothing more than a curt "Good." The Hyūga prince resumed his battle stance and reactivated his dōjutsu once more, unaware of how swiftly the fight would be concluded.
Tweek took the initiative to start the second go-around. The blitzing speed with which he propelled himself towards Kureigu did not sacrifice purpose; a continuous stream of probing advances tested his opponent's guard without overcommitting himself to any one attack. Kureigu was not yet overwhelmed by the assault, but he was pushed entirely to the defensive as he was forced to deal with successive threats from Tweek.
For a while the two settled into a sort of rhythmic equilibrium, a melody of give-and-take movements fairly won or lost in quick succession, no misplay proving decisive for either side. Tweek lobbed blow after blow, but always remained mindful of his partner's positioning and range, so as to allow no counterattack. Over many repetitions, Kureigu began to recognize patterns in Tweek's attacks. There was a certain meter to his assault— what "beats" he kicked on instead of punching, when he leaned hard into one attack or levied a flurry of blows, what moments his fists were silent— which could be exploited and predicted upon by the owlish boy. Kureigu only grew more sure of himself as the fight went on, for he could feel a crescendo in the pale boy's attacks; Tweek's assault was coming to its head, and he would see right through it.
There was a sudden change in the older boy's movements, although Kureigu would not realize as such for almost a second later— by then, far too late. There was a sharpness and vigor to Tweek's strikes which had not been present before, as if he'd received a sudden spike of adrenaline, and they came faster as well. The blow which shattered Kureigu's defenses— an elbow thrust, which Tweek had not thrown out before— was delivered off-beat to the pattern Kureigu was reading from. Unable to recover in time, the boy's wide-open pale eyes could only watch as his new hireling jumped slightly into the air, raising his leg skyward with astonishing flexibility. With the noon sun at his back, shadows danced across Tweek's face, partially obscuring his fierce expression. Kureigu saw the leg reach the peak of its arc, before reversing back down towards him.
There was a sudden rush of air and leaves, and Kureigu became aware of a large presence positioned between himself and Tweek. There Shōtai was, with her shoulder propping up Tweek's outstretched limb. Although the kick had hardly started, she opted to slow it down over a distance, and now stooped low enough that Tweek could touch the ground with his other foot, albeit on his tiptoes. Tweek's face showed both astonishment and discomfort as the sudden stop sent shocks into his kicking leg.
"Whoa, whoa!" Shōtai interjected in a dumb tone of voice. "What's going on here?"
"We're sparring," Kureigu answered. Irritability and a touch of confusion dripped from Kureigu's words. "What are you doing here?"
"I was… scouting ahead for the rest of the group," she said, exploiting her position to avoid eye contact. "Yeah! Tōma asked me to… good thing I came this way, huh?" She finally moved her head to face Tweek. "Listen, kid, I'm sure Kureigu here did something to piss you off, but you shouldn't throw out a move like that in a mock battle. You could have really messed him up."
"I told him to," Kureigu asserted.
"You… wait, what?"
"I told him to go all out," he repeated.
Shōtai turned and leveled a withering gaze at Kureigu, who defiantly stared right back. Their deadlock lasted for a few moments, until a squawk from the forgotten Tweek shattered the moment. Shōtai sheepishly lowered him down before standing back up to her full height. She addressed her cousin once more. "You're being reckless, Kureigu. We're going to have a little talk together. Unless…" she trailed off. Kureigu understood the unspoken threat, while Tweek did not.
Tweek, for his part, said nothing but was breathing heavier than normal. He was slightly bent over and his clothes somehow seemed baggy and large on his weary frame, although they had fit well at the shop. He glanced a few times between the two Hyūga, before opening his mouth to apologize.
Shōtai's expression softened at Tweek's agitated state, and she slowly approached the boy. Carefully she reached out to touch his shoulder, but Tweek jerked it back before contact was made. A panicked look flashed on his face before he tentatively brought his shoulder back into place.
"Hey, hey, it's alright," she said tenderly, as she made contact. "As long as you're both unhurt, we can talk about this later. I was, uhh… hoping to get lunch before I saw all this! Have either of you eaten yet?"
/
The weather was unseasonably warm in the Village Hidden in the Leaves, the martial heart of the Land of Fire . The morning air was hot and heavy, and the sun bore down mercilessly on the people below. Throughout the city, sweaty crowds jostled their way through their daily routines while a lucky few had the privilege of doing their work in air-conditioned bliss.
The old Academy complex, located under a large plateau at the edge of the village, offered no such amenities. It was a large building despite not rising beyond a few stories with the exception of one wing, composed of layered cylindrical levels, which somewhat resembled a wedding cake. The taller section housed nothing less than the offices of the Hokage— the strongest shinobi in the entire Hidden Leaf, appointed to lead the village in both war and peace.
Within this wing a diminutive man made his way slowly through the hallways, a familiar route he had taken countless times before. He came to a stop in front of a window facing the village, smoke emanating from the pipe in his mouth as he gazed pensively upon the town below. The gravity of the view never diminished in his mind, even despite decades of seeing the same scene day in and day out. The cityscape grounded the man, constantly reminding him of the tens of thousands of people, civilian and shinobi alike, for whom he held the sacred duty of defending.
Or at least, he had been responsible for their protection. After holding the position for nearly thirty years, Sarutobi Hiruzen had recently passed on the mantle of Hokage to a man named Namikaze Minato: a young, but immensely talented ninja who had been a student of one of Hiruzen's own pupils. The new Hokage was the fourth in the village's history, and the object of the third's present errand.
Hiruzen resumed his walk towards the Hokage's office, but his mind could not help but wander still. It was his first time back in that place since his retirement; echoes of a long and arduous career reverberated in his head: people he'd met, decisions he'd made, wars he'd led through, several wars— the lamentable constant throughout his tenure. Life beyond the desk was a mixed bag for the middle-aged man; he relished the time he finally could spend with his family, but also felt unfocused. It was not so easy to move on from the position after devoting the better part of his life to the village.
He was hardly aware when he arrived at the door to the Hokage's office, his feet having guided him there automatically. In spite of his reverie, he caught an incredibly minute tap tap of footsteps from behind the door, although he had not heard a single word uttered his entire time in the hallway. The door opened not long after, and out stepped a middle-aged, dark-haired man whose forehead and right eye were covered in bandages. His face was a valley of shadowy creases, some natural and some inflicted upon him, like the x-shaped scar he had on his chin. Hiruzen and the man exchanged a glance, and a thousand conversations played in a fraction of a second.
The moment was broken when the voice of the Fourth Hokage jovially beckoned Hiruzen into the office.