Kiribi I

Monad scanned the barren plains of the Land of Lightning with a frown across his brown. Although he would never say it out loud, there was some kind of admiration on his mind right now, confronted the extent to which the landscape had been deformed under the influence of shinobi techniques. Unfortunately, the party of reinforcements he had been a member of had only managed to arrive just after the end of the war, robbing them of their purpose. The was far away, and no one had blamed them, but the craters and lingering sense of overwhelming chakra to trifle Monad and his squad. They had failed to attend the greatest battle of their time, as if the universe wanted to deliver the message once again that the age of samurai had come to an end a long time ago.

While the victors had departed several hours ago, carrying the heroes of war on their shoulders and exclaiming names of shinobi who, despite being unfamiliar in Monad's ears, would undoubtedly appear in the children tales of the coming century. Numerous green flat-jackets still dotted the battlefield, swarming between the blank corpses of the monstrosities the enemy had employed in search of their fallen comrades. The gesture seemed sentimental, but its latent purpose disenchanted most of the romanticism it conveyed. Although the countries had unified against a common enemy, internal strife would soon re-emerge, and the secrets that the body of a common shinobi, not even mentioning those with kekkei genkai, harbored was something none of the Kage would like to see in the hands of one of their acting comrades.

The black-haired adolescent warrior luckily had been excused from any kind of search directed towards the Land of Iron's fallen. That task had been left to the servants that had accompanied their group, while he was directed to his familiar spot - at 's right hand. It was a position he had held, voluntarily or not, for three years. The old geezer was scouting the aftermath of the battle with the same observant gaze as Monad, although the protegee could not discern what was transpiring behind his bandaged forehead. The fact that he had been summoned, despite the lack of purpose for his presence, mad made him suspicious. When the old man suddenly turned his head and recorded Monad's presence, his hand almost slipped in the direction of Hajikukare. It was an act of treason to draw one's blade against his master, but the atmosphere was so unsettling his hand hand reacted out of pure drill. A faint smile danced in the wrinkled skin around Mifune's lips, and he gestured Monad to follow him, away from the masked shinobi destroying the chakra networks of those bearing the same hitai-ate.

Before a samurai goes into war, his family holds his funeral. His memory is laid to rest, his family and loved ones grieve, and he is dead for all purposes. All but the purpose of battle. What is left to fear? He is already dead. The only thing to gain or lose is grace and dignity in the face of an inevitable death. The samurai is now unbound by attachments and fears of pain, loss, or death, and he fights with an unmatched fearlessness and fierceness. That was the way every soldier of the Land of Iron had followed, so the only cries audible within their camp where those of joy. This was certainly not the case with the weak-hearted shinobi, some acting in such a manner one could almost believe they had been on the losing side of combat. Flanked by men shouting for liquor on one side and women lamenting their losses on his other, Monad escorted Mifune through the coastal camp of one of the participating villages. Although he had been educated in the emblems of the Hidden Villages, that knowledge seemed to slip his mind when he gaze upon the four wavy lines imprinted upon the flag waving slothfully in the ocean breeze.

The gray-haired general knelt down in the largest tent within the encampment, mirroring the position of a red-haired young woman dressed in a provocative blue dress. She was flanked by a single haired figure similarly seated a step behind her, a boy who looked like he all but belonged in a battleground like this. "Her son, perhaps?" Monad pondered upon the thought for a second, but quickly let it sail, as in the event that she was married, he saw little reason for her husband not to be present. He lowered himself at Mifune's right side, also leaving an appropriate distance, facing the kid with a stern gaze. His glasses quivered under Monad's glances.

"Mizukage-sama" Mifune's voice was formal and without affection, as was hers when she addressed him with "Taishō-sama". Monad had presumed the General's visit would be concerning private matters, but seeing their set attitudes this quickly seemed unlikely. "What matter is urgent enough that it cannot be delayed after the celebrations?" He also noticed the Mizukage had suffered grievous wounds, scorch and burn marks traveling down her neck and disappearing in her sizable cleavage. From the way she twitched when she planted weight on her left leg, it was also clear that she must have suffered wounds there and bandages peeked through the fishnet brim of her back. Mifune commented on them, but the redhead brushed his worries aside, saying that she had been blessed with a plentiful dose of luck and that it had been nothing the medical corps couldn't handle.

"I'm here on behalf of the matter you addressed to me during the Kage Council." After having given each other consolations on behalf of the losses their countries had suffered, Mifune finally touched upon the true intentions behind their visitation. "I have summoned one of my swords who I believe will serve you and your village to his utmost capabilities." It took Monad a few moments before he realized that the General was talking about him, and a few second more what he was actually talking about. "Serving a shinobi? And a woman at that? Mifune-taishō cannot mean this." His back felt strangely light without the nōdachi that was usually strapped to it, but it would be considered extremely rude and even threatening to carry weapons when visiting the private quarters of a country's leader. How he wished that he had left his prized blade in the hands of that pockmarked guard.

Noticing the young samurai's shocked and flat-out offended expression, the Mizukage's softened and her voice reached out to him with a gentle tone. "Let me explain. Kirigakure, and by extent - the Land of Water, have been in turmoil ever since they were founded. I intend to change this, to create a unified country, but I'm afraid there are many who would rather not see that happen. I find it hard to trust even my elite forces, so I inquired Mifune-taishō about a bodyguard. Considering the neutral position of the Land of Iron towards the, it was the most reliable way of acquiring a trustworthy bodyguard." Monad's eyebrows knitted together and made him transcend from shock to confusion. "Why would taishō recommend me for this kind of assignment? He knows my history with shinobi." The warm body language of the Mizukage somewhat soothed his reluctance, but not to the point of a certain answer when she asked: "Are you okay with this, kenshi-kun?"

Monad's pupils flashed in Mifune direction, but his impressive goatee was still hidden from sight, his eyes pointing towards the Mizukage even though her attention was directed at Monad. "My opinion is of no importance in this situation, Mizukage-sama. If Mifune-taishō commands me to, I will serve you." He lowered his body from in seiza until his forehead touched the earth. "My blade has been taken from me when I entered, but I assure you it is yours from this day until my day of death." The Mizukage chuckled at the display of obedience and turned back to Mifune. "My, my, you samurai really know how to train your boys. And he is quite handsome, too." Now she bowed for Mifune, although not nearly as deep as Monad had done. "The Land of Water recognizes your efforts and will be sure to reward you for them, Mifune-taishō. You are excused." Mifune displayed his respect before standing up and walking out of the tent. Monad moved too, more out of habit than anything, but Mifune stopped him. "Your place is here, from now on. I will see to it that your assets are delivered."

Monad nodded and returned to seiza. Now that Mifune had left, an uncomfortable silence had fallen between the azure walls of the tent. Her blue-haired subordinate had not spoken yet, although he seemed to have trouble maintaining a motionless position. The Mizukage called for sake and motioned for Monad to come closer. A bit shiftless, Monad shuffled to where Mifune had been seated, unsure of with which expression he should answer the Mizukage's playful smile. As she poured a cup of alcohol and offered it to him, she asked for his name. "I am Monad, Mizukage-sama." Her eyebrows raised slightly as she brought her own cup to her lips and emptied it in one fell swoop. "No family name?" Monad stared down at his cup of sake in hesitation, unsure what the customs for drinking alcohol were in the shinobi tradition. "I am..." He searched for a proper translation of the term for a while, but could not find one that conveyed the entire message. "Sayanai, Mizukage-sama"

She nodded, apparently familiar with the expression. As she turned around and loudly proclaimed that the blue-haired should come and learn how to drink like a proper man, Monad's thoughts wandered off. Sayanai. Sheathless. That was what he was. Without clan, without school, without honor. A naked blade that threatened to cut anything that came near it. When he was first approached with the term, he had punished anyone who dared to utilize it, but eventually the shame had evaporated. Those who are given a second chance after their criminal lives, a second chance that consisted of the honorable life of a great warrior, had little reason to complain. Not that he considered his acts criminal, but...

"Monad-kun?" The brand new bodyguard was pulled back to the present by the sound of his new superior's voice and the sight of the young boy she had pulled towards her. "This is -kun. He is a member of the and one of the many heroes of this war." Monad could barely suppress a smirk. That scrawny kid, a swordsman? And then that furious red blush when the Mizkage pulled him close against her curvy body and dangled a cup of sake before his face. Sure, there was no denying she was an attractive woman, but a kenshi who could not even keep his private and professional matters apart was hardly worth keeping in service. Needless to say, Monad's first impression of the Mizukage's protegee was less than positive.