An Interesting Encounter

Satoru wrapped his arm around Noboru, and by virtue of his height and strength, Noboru was squished against the taller man’s frame. “Mocks us.” Noboru let out a jolt of surprise. Satoru once again complimented Nobo on his choice. “Wouldn’t feel fair if I got a free shot. You could’ve had me dead twice if this was a real fight. I just want to know when pull comes to shove, I’ll be able to shove.” “Weak, you are weak”, it growled. He was beginning to worry about his self deprecation… he had never spoken to himself like this, and the rasping weak tone of the voice made him feel all the more worried.

Satoru let the Yuki go, and he took the opportunity to grab his blade on the way out, putting it back onto the scabbard and looping it onto his belt, as the orange-headed youth lead the duo to a place he knew. Behind them were left the two ninja from before. He explained Genjutsu was his forte. “I could tell”, he began, before correcting himself. “Well, I couldn’t, but I can now.” He smiled, looking forward once again, the streets growing restless with people walking about in their morning routines. Satoru laughed heartily at the notion of being good at Genjutsu alone, which intrigued Noboru. “You’re built like a brickhouse, I pegged you for an actual fighter when I saw your stance.” He introduced himself as part of the Uzumaki clan. That was quite bizarre in his eyes, as it was his understanding Uzumakis usually had red hair; the orange hair on the man threw him off the scent. “Huh, wouldn’t be able to tell.” Jumping off the window from a family reunion was something else though. Noboru was left speechless at that comment, instead he nodded in agreement. Now that he thought on it, Satoru might’ve been a robber or a murderer, and he wouldn’t be able to tell. “Weak”, mocked the voice again, “dumb”.

Nobo scoffed, “Yeah, I don’t know why. I never thought myself a comedian, but after having my ass kicked like that, it comes naturally. Defense mechanisms, I suppose.” He shrugged, while the voice growled inside his skull. Satoru remarked on reading a lot of books. He did seem to know about swords being used against the uninitiated earlier in their encounter, and as such Noboru nodded in agreement to the comment. Satoru described how his clansmen tried to teach him their own arts, and how in failing them, he had disappointed the clan. Expectations set by parents was not something new to the Yuki. Though he was a member of the Yuki, his line was seen as a lesser branch, a more civilian focused branch than a warrior caste. Satoru spoke of how his own mother knew of Genjutsu and how he must’ve taken it from her, or at least it seemed that’s where he was going with the sentence, but he stopped himself short of finishing it. Was he angry at his mother? Some emotion Noboru couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he continued his sentence, regarding how Genjutsu couldn’t keep you alive. Noboru wasn’t quite sure how to follow that sentence, to be honest, there seemed to be height beyond his lifting capacity there. “Yeah, I know a thing or two about not fitting the mold.” “Break the mold”, whispered the desperate creature in his skull. “Though, for me, it was the business I couldn’t handle. All the haggling, and keeping inventory, and this and that… drove me crazy.” “Beneath me”, it thought.

He expressed where he got his hair and height from, and how the clan looked down on him for not fitting the profile of the Uzumaki. He couldn’t relate to such an emotion. “Hm, I had the opposite. I fit a little too perfectly to the expectation. Lean and wiry, perfect for assassination, pale skin and snow white hair… The Yuki have been looking at me like another messiah. It’s not even that rare. They’re just… crazy about it. If I had dark hair they might’ve put me on a pedestal.” Noboru looked at Satoru nodding his head with conviction, confirming Satoru’s assertion regarding clans' ulterior motives.