[Kojima Daisuke]

IF YOU ALWAYS WORRY ABOUT CRUSHING ANTS BENEATH YOUR FEET

Daisuke had been in the position of Raikage's assistant for a little over three weeks now. So far, it was quite different from what he'd expected, but at the same time, it was almost exactly what he'd expected. Kizumi had thrown him a curveball or two, sending him to work with a few genin, having him look over her shoulder while she tended to more political affairs and public appearances, and as much as he might not have wanted to admit it, he was learning a lot in his new role. The other side of it, though, was much less interesting. While he still got himself out of the office to handle assignments here and there, much of his efforts was put into the bookkeeping side of things, and processing mission orders, assignment completions, and general administrative maintainance that was required for the village. He hated that part...

The young sage let out a deep sigh after his head turned out the window, looking over the village as a cool breeze rolled through. There was a light sprinkle going on outside at the moment, one of the many summer rains that Kumogakure had during the season. This was far from the storm that they had the past few nights, though. No thunder clapping, no lightning illuminating the sky in place of the moon. But still, the small pitter-patter that echoed into the room was at least relaxing in and of itself.

Daisuke had been here for hours today. Sitting at his desk, a small office across the hall from the Raikage, whom he could see was still working late tonight just as he had been. He had a few candles that illuminated his room, the light fixture above set on dim to allow the flickering of their small flames to cast dancing shadows across the wall as he worked.

His gaze turned to the small stack of folders still sitting in his "to-do" basket forced another sigh from the chuunin before his hands reached up to his face and pulled downward in a clearly exhaustive motion. His head and limbs then hung backward, wanting so badly to just get up and leave, but this would all still be here waiting for him tomorrow if he had. But, aside from that, if he left now, Daisuke knew that his mind would just start to wander over to places he really wanted to ignore, truth be told. So, instead, he opted for a different choice, calling out to the Raikage as he opened a drawer, and pulled out a small, half drunken bottle of lavender gin, with two tumblers and knocked against Kizumi's down making her aware of his presence as he stepped inside.

"Share a drink, oba? I could use a little break.”

^{THEN YOU'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO WALK}

---

^{hirana kizumi}

Temp By: Akira

[hirana kizumi]

A HEART'S A HEAVY BURDEN

Financials. Probably the biggest headache of the job thus far: there always seemed to be more money that needed to be spent than there was money to spend. Shinobi wages were only the half of it; there were uniforms, equipment requisitions, housing allowances, infrastructure, payouts, mission expenses, the list went on and on and on until her head was spinning and the numbers were all blurring together on the page. Half of this or more she could delegate, she knew that objectively. Azarea was good with numbers, and there were half a dozen other brilliant young clerical minds far more suited to the nitty-gritty of accounting than Kizumi ever would be. But pride had ever been her greatest vice, and she wanted to know that she could handle it herself, if she had to. That she knew the ins and outs of what to do, and could do it all. It wasn’t until Daisuke knocked on her door that she realized it was dark out. No moonlight filtered in through the blue structure that the Mageruhi had solidified as her office window: the sky was thick with stormclouds, though the rain itself was gentle. Probably shouldn’t, Kizumi thought when she glanced at the bottle in Daisuke’s hand, but what her mouth said was "Gods, please,” and she waved vaguely in the direction of the chairs on the other side of her desk. She put her pen down, taking the prompt to stretch her arms in front of her, her fingers interlocking to gently bend her wrists. She looked up at the clock above her office door, and wrinkled her nose. "You’re here late,” she observed blandly, as though the same didn’t apply to herself. "I hope I’m not putting too much on your plate, Daisuke. You need to rest.”

Kojima Daisuke -- 299

LAIKA OF THQ

[Kojima Daisuke]

IF YOU ALWAYS WORRY ABOUT CRUSHING ANTS BENEATH YOUR FEET

The young sage let out a small hum as he walked in, closing the door behind him with his foot as he took a seat across from the Raikage in one of the lounge chairs.

He’d place the two empty glasses on the edge of the table, uncorking the bottle in his hands before filling each one respectively.

"Nah.” Daisuke said shortly, putting the bottle down within arms reach of both Kizumi and himself for when either of them would inevitably need a refill. "Just trying to work a bit ahead.” He stated, before picking up his glass and tilting it towards the Raikage.

"Cheers, Oba.” He said with a small smirk and a wink before taking a sip of the familiar tasting liquor.

Daisuke took in a deep breath, slowly through his nose and out his mouth as the liquid began to warm the back of his throat. His attention would then turn to the woman across from him, eyes looking to her as his expression softened.

"Been meaning to ask, you know.” He started, swirling the liquid again in his glass, his eyes dodging back down to the contents of his drink before they shifted back to Kizumi. "I’ve been at this a little while now. How’m I doin’ so far? Honestly.”

^{THEN YOU'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO WALK}

---

^{hirana kizumi}

Temp By: Akira

[hirana kizumi]

A HEART'S A HEAVY BURDEN

"So studious,” Kizumi said, her mouth tugging into a grin as she reached over to claim her own glass. "So dedicated, my loyal assistant. Cheers.” A tilt back in the boy’s direction, and she took a mouthful of her own; not a sip so mindful of the liquor’s quality as Daisuke’s, but a swallow, a nigh-automatic reflex for her when a glass was put in her hands. She sighed, breathing out hard as the heat hit her throat and ran down her chest all at once. Been meaning to ask, you know, he said, and she offered a soft hm? in response, as if to say, go on. He looked away from her, and asked the classic question: evaluation, review, progress update. "Honestly?” Kizumi considered the question, tilting her head as she looked back at him. It had been, what… two months? Three months? The days were flying by faster than she could keep track of them, and it was hard to believe that the summer months were already over. Chuunin exams were on the horizon, which was its own bureaucratic mess to handle— Kizumi shook her head, bringing her meandering thoughts back to the present moment. "Honestly, I think you’re doing just fine,” she said. "The work’s getting done, my schedule is impeccable, I like to think we’ve found a pretty good flow so far. But—you’re asking for a reason, right? How do you think you’re doing?” Her grin turned wry. "Is it everything you hoped and dreamed it would be?”

Kojima Daisuke -- 252

LAIKA OF THQ

[Kojima Daisuke]

IF YOU ALWAYS WORRY ABOUT CRUSHING ANTS BENEATH YOUR FEET

Daisuke's eyes soon skated away from Kizumi's gaze, a small absent-minded smirk revealing itself once more over his expression. He'd place the glass on the armrest of his chair, his calloused thumb gently circling a small impression on the glass.

"Something like that.” The chuunin said, his voice and tone a bit more lost, still avoiding eye contact with the Raikage across from him.

"Don't get me wrong,” he started, "I'm grateful for the chance. It's not as tedious as I had made myself believe when you offered me the job. And I actually like getting to work with you a little more hands-on.”

Again, the young apprentice paused, bringing the glass to his lips, but speaking before he took a drink. "I know I don't... Always make the best first impressions. I mean, I read my own file, and you know what the side bar notes said?” His eyes darted over to Kizumi, "Arrogant. Egotistical. Self-Obsessed. Challenge. Avoid team assignments. Assign to strict leadership. 'Little Kaede.'” Daisuke let out a small chuckle, obviously a bit perturbed by the thoughts as he pounded the contents of his glass and reached for the bottle.

A deep breath fell into his lungs before a sharp exhale. "None of it was in your handwriting, though, so you're off the hook for that.” He said with another small chuckle as he began to pour more liquor into his glass.

"It's not like I don't know this shit about myself. Don'Yokuna pounds it into me every time I go to the mountains that I need to let all of that petty shit go if I ever want to become a great sage. I need wisdom, compassion, empathy, humility, blah blah fuckin...” He rolled his eyes, another deep breath escaping him as he'd once more bring the glass to his lips. "You get it.”

The alcohol trickled with a familiar burn down the back of his throat as his head fell back, resting against the back of his seat as the Chuunin blew a small raspberry from his lips.

"I wanna change that.” Daisuke said quietly. "More than anything else, I took this job so I could try. I've spent so much time trying to prove myself to everyone around me, I feel I never got the chance to be who I am. I've got all these dumb fuckin thoughts, you know? Ways I can just get out of my own head instead of feel my feelings and process my shit. Drink, train, sleep with women, put everyone down who's around me, tell myself I'm hot shit... When inside... Inside I just feel... Hollow...”

^{THEN YOU'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO WALK}

---

^{hirana kizumi}

Temp By: Akira

[hirana kizumi]

A HEART'S A HEAVY BURDEN

He was avoiding eye contact, but she didn’t press him on it; he’d make his way through his thoughts in time. And sure enough: Arrogant, egotistical, self-obsessed, challenge. Avoid team assignments. Assign to strict leadership. ‘Little Kaede’. All information that she already knew, of course, she hadn’t been so stupid as to not read his file before offering him a job. It seemed obvious in retrospect that Daisuke would seek out his own file—self-obsessed—though she was grateful that it seemed to have prompted some introspection in lieu of the hissy-fit so many men threw when called on their less personable traits. None of it was in your handwriting, though. Kizumi chuckled at that, replied with a murmured, "I’m impressed you know my handwriting already,” but gestured for him to go on. He needed to get this off his chest, and she was more than willing to listen. It was… heavy. Maybe hitting closer to home than she would have liked, as her gaze fell to her own glass; but she pushed the thought aside before it had time to take root, instead focusing on the youth in crisis across her desk. "What drives you, Daisuke?” she asked, leaning back. She tapped a short fingernail on the side of her glass, and she looked pensively off to the side, purposefully and politely allowing him to continue avoiding eye contact, if that was what he wanted. "You say you wanna change. You know all these things about yourself and you want to fix them. Why? ‘Cause, honestly—if it’s just to stick it to the people writing that shit down in your file, that’s not gonna get you anywhere.” Too blunt, maybe, but Kizumi had her own flaws.

Kojima Daisuke -- 285

LAIKA OF THQ

[Kojima Daisuke]

IF YOU ALWAYS WORRY ABOUT CRUSHING ANTS BENEATH YOUR FEET

Daisuke would take a small sip of his drink, mulling over the Raikage's words with care and intent. His eyes narrowed, his gaze dropping slightly, focusing on nothing but his own thoughts. Kizumi had a point, for certain. While part of it was simply to prove those around him wrong, there was more to it than that. More of his deeper, greater desires to find purpose had been getting revealed each and every day. But he was still missing something.

"I'd be lying if I said that wasn't at least a part of it.” Daisuke eventually said, forming words to tie his thoughts together. "It's funny, you know. I had a similar talk with Azarea not too long ago. About purpose, drive. About will.”

The young sage paused, downing the last of his drink before he placed the empty glass against Kizumi's desk. "Lately, I feel like I've been missing that. Purpose, I mean. Like I thought that purpose was something that was given to you. Earned, in a way. Not something that came from inside.” He said, his hand raising over his chest for a moment.

"I want people to see me differently than the way I see myself. I know I haven't been doing to great a job at that, but it took me a little longer than I'd like to admit to figure that out. Confidence in my abilities and skills is easy to see. Power is easy to gravitate to. But my pride and ego are two faced. I tell myself I'm 'better' than everyone in the room just as often as I convince myself I'm just another piece of shit.”

He stopped, his head turning to the side while he tried to get more to the point of her question rather than focus on his own flaws. "I never understood how people could not care about what other people thought. About how they are perceived. I've always cared. But now, I think what matters to me more, and what I'm trying to learn, is how to see myself different. How can I reach that perfect ideal of myself, that perfect version of me, who is strong, yet kind. Honest, humble, grateful. I know I'll never reach it. Not entirely, anyway. But I can't even give myself the slack to acknowledge and believe that just taking steps closer to that goal is what matters. That it's okay to never become that perfect version of yourself. But I'm afraid to admit and accept that I can't get there alone, too. I fuckin' hate asking for help, even when I know I need it. Like a part of me just screams whenever I can't be self sufficient.”

Daisuke would stop for a moment, mulling over his the words that formed in his train of thought as he refilled his glass and topped off Kizumi's as well.

"What drives me is hunger, Oba-san. Hunger for growth in all aspects. In mind, in body, in spirit. And the hope that someday I might actually be able to look at myself in the mirror and be content, instead of complacent, or loathesome.”

Daisuke took a sip of the refilled glass after relaxing back in his chair, a small smirk on his face as his gaze met with izumi's once more.

"And to one day take your job.” He said with a small chuckle.

^{THEN YOU'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO WALK}

---

^{hirana kizumi}

Temp By: Akira

[hirana kizumi]

A HEART'S A HEAVY BURDEN

This was something that had been happening to her for years, and Kizumi knew her role here intimately—she was the older woman, the auntie, the steady shoulder, the open mind and listening ear. What was weighing on Daisuke’s mind was heavy, difficult to put into words, and whatever time he needed to get his thoughts in order—Kizumi would give him. She nodded at times, provided small mms of affirmation, engaging with him to indicate that she was listening closely, but she didn’t interrupt. She sipped her drink more slowly now, and when he needed to get his thoughts in order, or take a sip of his own, she only waited patiently for him to resume, push more of the weight off, get more of the words out of his heart and mind. And to one day take your job, he said, and Kizumi’s eyes went to the ceiling, her hands spreading as if seeking supplication. "Kami help me,” she said, beseeching. "My assistant yearns for my passing and to steal my fancy hat.” Her gaze darted back down to Daisuke, and her tongue poked out from between her teeth, teasing. "It sounds like you’ve done half the work already,” she said after a moment. "Step one to solving a problem is figuring out what the problem is, right? Your self-esteem’s in the shitter half the time, and your ego balloons to compensate. Because your ego’s ballooning, you think you should be able to do everything yourself, and when you can’t—because no one can—your self-esteem takes another hit. And when your self-esteem already has one foot in the grave, you really can’t afford to take many hits before you go down screaming.” She ran a finger around the rim of her glass, tilting her head in contemplation of the liquor. "So what’s step two?” she asked. "Ask for help or train more or do better aren’t real answers. You want tangible results, you need actionable goals. Short-term goals. We don’t give academy kids the standard shinobi toolkit and tell them to go figure out a C-rank mission—you start with footstance, chakra theory, how to hold a shuriken without slicing your fingers to ribbons. No one pops out of the womb a stone-cold killer, and you can’t reasonably expect yourself to change your entire outlook and personality on a whim.” She took another sip from her glass, and put it back down on her desk, leaning forward in her chair to look at her young, foolish assistant intently. "So what do you think you should do?”

Kojima Daisuke -- 424

LAIKA OF THQ

[Kojima Daisuke]

IF YOU ALWAYS WORRY ABOUT CRUSHING ANTS BENEATH YOUR FEET

Mulling over the Raikage's words, the chuunin gave her a slow nod in agreement, letting out a small hum in recognition of her words. He took a small sip of his drink before a smirk rose over his face.

"Don'yokuna would just tell me to meditate,” his voice lowered, a small gravel to his tone as he mockingly imitated the alpha wolf. "If you wish to change your feelings, change your outlook, you must look within yourself. You cannot find the answers you seek within the world around you, you must look within, young Kodomo.”

Daisuke rolled his eyes as he took another drink, but he could have kicked himself when what he just said began to sink in. His expression seemed to grow irritated as he realized it.

"Even when I fucking make fun of him I can't help but find a damn lesson.” The young sage took another drink of his glass, the warmth of the alcohol beginning to tickle the tips of his fingers as he felt it course through his body.

"He's not wrong, of course.” Daisuke started, his head turning out the window to watch the rain. "Mind and spirit are where I'm lacking the most. Always been like that. But I just... I don't learn like that. Introspection, reflection... It helps, but I have to take action to solidify anything. And I'm such a fucking feeler that it doesn't matter how much I might know what the truth is. It doesn't matter that I know I can be better, that if I practice humility, if I practice meditation, if I try to be grateful and walk in serenity, that if I do all of those things I can grow, and be happy or satisfied... No matter how much I know any of shit, if I don't feel it, then in my mind, it's not real. And I don't know how to change that. I don't know what I can do to better my perspective, or, or, try and be grateful for what I have, or proud of how far I've come... I don't know what the fuck to do.”

^{THEN YOU'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO WALK}

---

^{hirana kizumi}

Temp By: Akira

[hirana kizumi]

A HEART'S A HEAVY BURDEN

Kizumi’s eyebrows rose centimeter by centimeter as Daisuke mocked his lupine mentor, taking on a gravelly tone as he laid out… what honestly sounded like a fairly decent piece of advice from where Kizumi was sitting. It took another couple of seconds for it to sink in for Daisuke, but it did eventually, and she only snorted, hiding her growing smile behind a hand as his face morphed into an adorably pissy expression. She followed his gaze out the blue-tinted window. The rain was coming down harder now, a steady drumbeat against the tower, a percussive concert backed by rolling thunder and intermittent flashes as electric currents ran down the lightning towers and dispersed harmlessly into the mountainous earth below. "You’re overconfident,” Kizumi said pensively to the window. "And you’re too hard on yourself. Bad combination. It’s like—” She cut herself off, her eye lifting to the ceiling as she searched for her words. "When I first picked up a sword it was like I’d found an extension of my own body,” she said. "Learning how to use it was easy. It was like breathing. Same thing for polearms, bows, Chuya—if someone put a weapon in my hands I’d be knocking people into the dirt with it by the end of the day, no sweat.” She scoffed, shaking her head. "But ninjutsu? Genjutsu? I almost quit, you know. Thought I couldn’t hack it. Couldn’t even make a clone until the week before my academy exam. It was frustrating beyond belief, because… everything else was so easy, right? If I was so good at this shinobi thing, why was I having such a hard time with a basic technique that everyone else had already mastered?” Kizumi reached for the whisky, giving herself a healthy refill before reclaiming her glass. "I kept trying, and kept failing, for years. To this day I still suck shit at genjutsu, I have to work twice as hard for twice as long to get to a mastery level of any ninjutsu technique, and for ninety-five percent of the effort I put in it feels like I’m not getting any results at all. " —point is, young Kodomo—of course you can’t feel it yet. This is one of the first real challenges you’ve ever had to face, and it’s not coming easy. You’re not mastering a new skill instantly, so you’re tearing yourself down for not being good enough or wise enough or serene enough or whatever… which is undoing all the work you’ve already done. You can’t be grateful for what you have if you’re beating yourself up for not having more.” She leaned over, rifling through one of the drawers of her desk for a minute before producing a well-worn notebook, half the pages thick with ink and stains from mugs and glasses. "Like I said,” she said, pointedly waving the notebook. "Actionable, short-term goals. The shit you’re talking about takes a lifetime to master. Longer. Tell me what I could achieve by next week, if I dedicated time to it.”

Kojima Daisuke -- 506

LAIKA OF THQ