Welcome to Gaia! ::

Jenga kept his pace, not ever altering it for the sake of a narrow and weaving set of directions. He wasn't exactly well-mapped in his head, but Jenga had been around the city many times. As they walked, he listened intently to the knowledge that Kazket was imbuing him with about their proceeding exploits. The wait at the Library was more than likely worth it; though Jenga was among intelligent beings, he was not one for research and study. It had never suited him to enclose himself and read a book. Rather, it was fortunate that his ally had such skills... However, it seemed a sense of direction wasn't among them.

Jenga stopped, staring at the directional crossways just a few moments before Kazket admitted their being lost. Jenga already knew... They 'smelled' lost. He let a little sigh, perhaps one of few emotions he had exerted all day. "I know not." He said simply, before walking a direction that he assumed was north. Although Jenga had admitted to not knowing where they were going, they both lacked that knowledge. He took it upon himself to walk a direction he presumed would lead them to the Training Grounds, though he couldn't be sure. Jenga spoke as he just started his journey, this time in reference to his companion's earlier interests. "Bones." He spoke, monotonous and unreadable, "Fascinating." There was no sarcasm in his voice... There was little of anything that could be described. Jenga himself had been finding an interest in bones... But the interests he had lay in the skeletal structures of others, rather than his own. Weaponry from bones didn't seem unfeasible, it just didn't catch Jenga's attention when he had relied on steel many times to cleave flesh. He didn't fix what wasn't broken, and he had all intention of being equipped.

Jenga glanced back as Kazket started talking. He wasn't competitive at all, but it was the spark of swiftness to their destination that caught his interest. Plus, who hates a race? The fellow shinobi and him often toyed with minor contests, growing in intensity since their meeting at the Ninja Academy. Behind the mask, he smiled. He turned back and peered at Kazket through the mask, standing completely still. Kazket was not waiting for his agreement to begin this contest, leaving the ground the moment he had finished speaking. With that, Jenga stood for a few seconds longer, patiently. He uttered, "Go." to nobody, and followed the path that Kazket laid out, with considerable more difficulty. He was not among great chakra users, and would be taking the path mostly unassisted.

Jenga reached a flattened, short roof top. He saw a moving shadow, making distance with him; it was surely Kazket. He then looked beyond Kazket towards the destination. He too spotted the grounds that were the finish line, and immediately began a straight run towards it. He quickly left the rooftops to a path he knew much more, the alleys. Jenga took the straightest path he could towards the grounds, building momentum and speed with his head down slightly. He was able bodied compared to most, but lacked any ability to inspire chakra to assist him. Jenga ripped forward, not stopping once for the sake of obstacle. He occasionally dodged trash cans and ash pits, mainframes of the city that he dwelled in. His traction was unrivaled, given his footwear; this proved invaluable at a full-speed run in the wettest of environments. He left the ground to grab a horizontal support bar, before brachiating to another. Jenga flung himself from there to a more open street, wide to accompany his now reckless speed.The training ground was within sight by now, still at a distance.

Jenga was approaching the open to the grounds, when he spotted Kazket's shadow overhead. He was a blur of speed, and Jenga kicked his last bit of strength in to achieve a comparable one. He lowered his body more aerodynamically, springing over the barrier that marked the Training grounds and sliding as he made contact with the ground again. Sand and dust were kicked up, as well as mud, as he could not stop sliding. Jenga flipped around during his mud skiing, digging his hands into the groung before stopping just short of the tree that marked Kazket's landing. Jenga's back touched the cold wood as his boots had dug a track of straight lines in the ground; it deepened as it approached his stopping point, perhaps 10 inches into the ground at the tree. It was a significant mar in the grounds, and Jenga took a second to emerge from his small groove pits. Kazket was already standing, and Jenga was just as unaware of the victor as he was. Among many things, he was incredibly tired already, a regretful situation that could be easily remedied. He had a tendency to regain his physical energy quickly, keeping a vigilant stamina to athletics. He held up his hand, resting and panting heavily. Kazket was already engaged in the matters at hand, but Jenga knelt down, still panting.

"A moment." He spoke simply, pressing on a clip on the back of his boots. The glimmering steel body split at the heel, loosening the grip around the shinobi's ankles and lower legs. He followed suit with the other boot, before stepping out of the footwear. Jenga picked the boots up and moved closer to the fencing, as if to set them aside. He was barefoot, and more comfortable than he had been in a while.

When Jenga dropped the boots on the ground, an earthy boom let an echo over the soft sound of the rain. The dirt kicked up, as well as considerable amounts of mist and debris from it, a few rocks were kicked into the air. The boots lay in a now half-foot deep crater, created by the weight when dropped; these boots were weighted for training purposes, and they were extremely heavy. Jenga stood over there for a second, stretching his limbs before leaping from the ground, barreling a few times in the air, just his own height over the ground. He was much more limber without the weights that held him to the earth by a few hundred pounds. Jenga had been devoted to training since his entrance into the Academy, focused entirely in Taijutsu for most of the time that he spent there. He walked more casually over to Kazket, the first time he had been barefoot in front of his fellow shinobi. He now lacked the once worn out demeanor he had, nodding towards Kazket. Jenga took a second to let his feet sink into the wet ground, stretching his arms behind him and bending his neck with a bony pop.

"I am ready." Jenga assumed a fighting stance, speaking coolly and comfortably, "I will hone an art of steel." He was uninterested in kicking the tar out of foes with nothing but his limbs. Jenga felt more refined than a barroom brawl would justify... It was entirely his intention to weaponize his fighting style. For now, one of the training bo-staffs would do fine, as the weight mattered none to Jenga.

Jenga nodded stiffly as he approached, seeing signs that Kazket was already preparing to test some skills. It was good, because he was without a challenge for a long time. Jenga had rarely found himself engaged in combat situation, rather being avoided by most people than antagonized. However, he was no one to be trifled with, and even a spar in mock would inspire some viciousness from Jenga. He stepped rhythmically towards a rack of staves that was nearby the clearing used for sparring and training. As Jenga faced away from Kazket, who was casting jutsu at his flank, he lifted his mask and licked his finger, stroking the kun-lon bo staffs as if they were alive. Jenga stopped at one, near the center... The consistency of it was perfect, and un-knotted. Jenga replaced his mask before turning around to face Kazket, keeping his methodical footsteps as he approached the fellow Shinobi. Clones.. That was a class that Jenga must have missed; this was no surprise, but it did add an element of challenge to the once casual training phase. Beneath his mask, Jenga was smiling toothily.

Jenga stood in the center of the crowd of monotonous expression. He took a stance, clearly Taijutsu, and span the bo staff rapidly in his right hand. His left hand flattened, creating the "blade" he would use to exert his Chakra through... The Gentle Fist. It was entirely likely that his companion knew nothing about his bloodline, Main-House Hyuuga... It was a symbolic pride, which hid a forehead emblem behind the mask which he wore. The mask served purpose for hiding his crystalline blue eyes as well. Jenga began to question whether or not he would use his endowed dōjutsu... It was training, and he had not even begun to master the abilities of the Byakugan; Jenga would give it everything he had, in training even, to sever the muscles inner and outer. From there, his scar tissue would be his strength, honed through unrealistic effort, through unrelenting ambition. Jenga span the stick just a few times more, starting the movement of his left, empty hand.

"It begins."

He needn't confirm nor illustrate his intentions. Kazket had started the race early, so he had no reason to not take the initiative in this contest. He thrust the bo staff into the air, spinning still like a tossed baton; Jenga immediately struck out in spinning fashion with both hands, both empty now and in the same position. Flattened palm had chakra filtered into it. From the corner of the mask, one might be able to see the vascular trails that inevitably led to his eye. The legendary Byakugan, the all-seeing eye... Chakra came to life like fire all around Jenga. He witnessed the paths, and assessed the energy. The Kage Bunshin was relatively good, with the chakra distributed evenly among the clones. This was regretful, as it gave no indication of the actual ninja using it. Instead, Jenga chose to exert the staff as a distraction, and lash out at two of them at random. If one of them seemed particularly adept at the dodge, he would make it his notion to focus that one... However, if both disappear.. His flank remained open and his moves were untrained. It was likely the results would be messy... However, Jenga was unencumbered and unrelenting. It was his intention to use the Gentle Fist, however the slightly empowered blows that he was currently exerting had not nearly the form to accomplish it. Jenga would push himself until he accomplished the task... For now, it was a matter of picking off clones.

Michio descended the wall and stepped onto the muddy streets below, still in his transformation guise, and looked around to see if anyone saw him. Seeing nothing, the Ketsueki began to creep forward, heading down an alleyway that kept him from being seen by most of the population. The ones that did would just shrug him off as one of the orphans who seemed to be running around.

Michio neared the end of the street and looked from the left and to the right, then ducked back into the alley as a pair of Ame-nin ran towards him. 's**t!' he thought, turning and beginning to run. 'Only one way to make it out of this now!'

The Rain Village ninja landed in front of him with incredible speed and Michio came to a screeching halt, sliding in the mud until he landed flat on his a**.

“Going somewhere kid?” one of them asked, and when Michio went to turn and run, he found that there was a third shinobi behind him. He turned back around and frowned up at the shinobi ahead of him.

“I was just heading home....” he lied. The shinobi weren't buying it. Michio could just tell by the look on their faces.

“Kid, we patrol every inch of this village. I've never seen you a day in my life, which means you don't live here, which means you're full of s**t.”

Michio opened his mouth to speak, but the shinobi behind him spoke up first. “Looks like we've got us a little bounty, eh boys?”

Michio's face went pale, even the face of the transformation, and he began to stammer. “I-I-I... I d-don't....”

“You don't get it.” one of them finished for him, taking hold of his arms and latching a pair of handcuffs on Michio's wrists.

“What bounty are you talking about? I didn't do anything!” he cried, his nine year old voice beginning to crack. Michio forced tears into his eyes and the first shinobi sighed.

“Look kid. It's nothing personal. There's a reward for anyone who turns in children who look orphaned. You're it. Plain and simple.”

Michio was immediately dragged off to the orphanage and placed into their care.

Knowing that he was hot on Michio's trail Shinken scaled up the thick wall with great speed. He was so careful not to be seen but he was nearing full combat mode. He had his quarry cornered now. The young Uchiha was able to track his former teammate in the site of a small orphanage. From there he almost lost the trail. He caught a lucky break when he heard a child leaking about how there were two members of the orphanage joining the ninja Academy today. Shinken it thought over in his head. If you are going to integrate yourself into a village this would be the way to do it. It also fit what he understood was Michio's manipulative nature. With that Shinken sneakily made his way toward the ninja Academy darting through dark alleyways and using his cloak to camouflage himself. When he arrived at the Academy he couldn't contain himself any longer.

"Dammit Michio I know you're in there! Come out fighting like a man you snake!" Shinken cried loudly into the open window. He was as ready for this fight as he was ever going to be, and if he was lucky it would be fast enough that he could get out before getting caught. However he didn't think that would be the case he would likely have to get by by the skin of his teeth.

When Shinken heard the voice of his old teammate and his fists clenched tightly. This was it. There was going to be a reckoning, and the matter what happened someone was going to get hurt badly. From somewhere deep inside Shinken psyche a smile formed on his lips as he slipped the Tongshi mask on to his face. He could feel the guardian spirit inside roaring and ready for battle. Oddly Shinken found himself very much looking forward to this fight. He thought he would be scared, or at least concerned, but all he felt was eagerness.

With malice, and purpose Shinken's strode into the Academy. The door flung open in front of him and slammed against the wall. He wanted to announce his presence. He wanted Michio to know he was coming for him. The rush of adrenaline and endorphins was intoxicating. Shinken had been in fights before but never something so serious. He'd always been confident in his abilities. But this time there was a very real risk of being named or even worse being killed. For some reason whether it was the idea of grinding Michio to the ground, or some false sense of bravado Shinken didn't care.

" Michio… Michio I'm coming for you. The devil is coming for you. Are you ready to experience hell again?" Shinken said in a hauntingly sadistic voice. The young Uchiha slowly checked each individual room. He would kick open the door scan the room for any signs of life, and what he found none he would move to the next room. The tension was unbearable, and with each room he searched Shinken grew more and more impatient. He wanted justice. He wanted to make Michio suffer for his trickery and betrayal.

The young Genin felt much like an apex predator stalking its prey. Despite the fact that his prey might very well be the end of him. Michio's capabilities were no joke. Shinken knew that from experience. While he had never truly seen Michio fight in his full power, what he had accomplished spoke for itself. There were plenty of times where he was outgunned, or at least should've been and came out on top. Shinken knew of he was careless Michio could get the drop on him. So each time he searched the room he made sure that he was ready to attack, or at least defend himself.

" Michio where are you? Are you hiding from me? You know it won't do you any good." Shinken growled in the same disturbingly sadistic voice. That was when he kicked open the door to the room that contained his target. Underneath the mask there was a horrible smile on Shinken's face.

" There you are. It's time to pay for your sins." Shinken said sounding oddly calm yet satisfied.