[Arai Shimako]

It was rare that a living legend walked back into the village, appearing as though from a long journey of myth. In her time working with Sunagakure, Shimako had heard about the Angel of Death. The Shippai lived for a very long time and though they were often viewed as weapons or tools rather than people, anyone lingering that long within the village would leave an impression. The entire leadership infrastructure of the village was made up of people who couldn't remember a time before Unit 294 existed. Then, one day, he'd simply been gone.

The disappearance was still fresh when Shimako was recruited to the academy, so though she hadn't heard much in specific, she had spent years knowing about the missing Shippai and the want of his return.

And here he was! She'd long since stopped speculating about the mystery of Unit 294, believing that he'd probably been destroyed or dismantled in the field many long years ago. A theory that had been proven, thankfully, wrong. It was a sad thought, to imagine not only the death of the soul inside the body, but also the destruction of all that intricately preserved machinery.

Shippai were interesting, not just because of the nature of their existence, but also because their bodies were historical records in their own right. Their internal mechanisms catalogued centuries of puppetry research and development.

As the head researcher of the Puppet Corps, it was part of Shimako's duty to perform archival tasks; there was often as much to be learned from the past as there was to be learned from new research.

That was how she ended up tasked with meeting with the mysterious Unit 294 today. She was to take a look at his components, note anything of historical interest, and make sure nothing was broken. She prepared her lab for the occasion, making sure it was sparkling clean and her tools were actually arranged instead of a chaotic mess (it wasn't often she got visitors on the job!)

[294]

 

- spirits pace -

"Through the shadows cast by their graves"

It had not been long since Unit 294's return to the village. It had been one thing after the next; and rightfully so. A chance encounter with the Princess of Sunagakure; then, being taken back to the village by the guidance of his senior clansman, Unit 77. To speak with the Kazekage, and now to be attended to by a Puppet Master. Arai, Shimako, the name had been informed to him before he arrived to the woman's laboratory.
    Disheveled was putting his appearance lightly.
    The puppet was covered in blood. It had covered itself in sand as a weak attempt to mask the blood, and give him less of an... unnerving appearance. But his clothing was torn and tattered--there were fractures in one of his arms where the wood beneath the artificial skin had been battered. His legs had been punctured in a few places, and there were countless scratches covering his form.
    Though, the shippai was not bothered by any of it. All of the tools he needed were intact, he was not incapable of operation, and despite how human the thing looked, he couldn't feel pain.
    Unit 294 would arrive to their laboratory shortly enough, guided by another Sunagakure operative. There would be a small knock on the door, announcing their arrival. Even if he wasn't under any distress, Unit 294 wasn't opposed to being repaired, and a small part of him looked forward to being... well...
    He'd kept himself in miraculous care, for how long he had been missing.
    But, still. He could have been in better condition. And it felt nice being in good condition. Most spirits cared about the vessels they possessed. Whether that meant decorating themselves in gold and diamonds, or exercising daily to access peak form. To Unit 294, it meant not being damaged beyond repair, and holding some level of dignity in how his vessel was presented.
    Perhaps he looked scarier this way, more unnerving. But he had little interest in frightening others.

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[Arai Shimako]

When the knock on the door came, Shimako was quick to hop up and answer it, beaming a proper host's smile. They paused in the doorway at the sight of the Shippai there to greet them.

One thing they hadn't been told, in all the whispering about Unit 294, was how human he looked. She almost wasn't sure this was the right person and was someone else who'd wandered in, but the tattered kimono, the blood... All the disrepair did point towards this being the man. And what a beautiful man he was! She always hated to run into a heartthrob while trying to be professional. She needed to approach him like a doctor would a patient, after all.

"Hello and welcome in," she greeted, cheerily, with a shallow bow. "I'm Arai Shimako. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She allowed him into the lab. The front area was smaller and more cozy, though there was clearly some testing space further back, an area to actually try out the elements she was experimenting with to determine their effectiveness. She motioned to a table in the center of the workspace.

"Would you hop up there for me and tell me if you have any specific concerns today?" Obviously there was the blood - that'd probably need cleaning up, unless he wanted to handle it for himself. "I want to make sure you leave here today feeling good as new. Like a Shippai spa day."

[294]

 

- spirits pace -

"Through the shadows cast by their graves"

Unit 294 would offer a short bow in response to the woman, providing them an affirmed "I am Unit 294. It is a pleasure to meet you, as well, Shimako-san." The puppet was old; that was more than apparent to anybody who knew anything about him. And, even despite his fractured psyche, there were some things that never seemed to change. He was old-fashioned, in many ways, and polite. Acting respectfully seemed to be one of his virtues, even despite his blood-stained legacy.
    With introductions completed, Unit 294 would step into their laboratory when invited, and it would follow the woman's guidance to the table. He'd get himself onto it without any trouble, though he was uncertain if she expected him to lay down like a patient in operation, or if sitting upright would suffice. Whatever she deemed best, he had no qualms against it.
    They made an inquiry of him, and in truth, Unit 294 wasn't entirely certain how to respond. Like a patient going to a doctor, he wasn't used to being on the receiving end. Being put under repairs was one thing, but being spoken to in such a human fashion was... another. He had concerns; certain things he'd prefer to not be tampered with. His journal, for instance; though he doubted she'd have any real interest in taking any of his things.
    "I would prefer if you don't tamper with my internal mechanisms," he expressed softly, his voice quiet. "They are not in need of repair, and it is dangerous interacting with them." For her sake, and his. Still, he'd give a small nod of appreciation to her. "Thank you, Shimako-san."

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[Arai Shimako]

As a longtime puppeteer, she knew how private puppetry mechanisms could be. The greatest tool a puppeteer had was their secrets, and even among allies there was often a reluctance to share. Small things would be communicated and traded, but it wasn't often that a puppeteer let someone look inside their own puppet and truly analyze the mechanisms, not unless there was sufficient trust.

She imagined that feeling must be amplified when the mechanisms were your body, when those little intricacies made up who you were as a person. Shimako certainly wouldn't be comfortable if all her abilities were laid bare for some stranger to look at.

"Is that all? That'll be easy," she hummed. She stepped aside for a moment to gather up some supplies, since she wasn't going to need most of her traditional puppetry tools if she wouldn't be poking around inside him.

She grabbed some sewing supplies and fabric, then filled a small bowl with water and soap, and returned to Unit 294 with that and a rag.

"It's a bit difficult to assess any external damage when you're covered in blood. Would you mind cleaning yourself off? I wanted to take a look at your kimono. I wasn't sure if you would want me to patch it up, or just to make something new entirely." It was a bit tattered, but she knew some shinobi didn't mind! She could never run around dressed like that, personally.

[294]

 

- spirits pace -

"Through the shadows cast by their graves"

Unit 294 was glad to hear that she was content to respect his boundaries. In truth, he likely wouldn't have put up too much of a fight if she'd insisted--she was a trusted member of Sunagakure, after all, and if anybody had to be messing with his insides, someone who specialized in the field would be an appropriate candidate. Besides, even if he was of the highest caliber a shinobi could achieve in their lifetime, he held no significant position within the village and there was little he could do to reject a commandment made of him. Even if it wasn't a Chikamatsu, Unit 294 was compelled to obedience.
    Shimako returned briefly from where she'd left him, some supplies in hand. To begin with, she suggested that Unit 294 clean the blood off of him properly. While Tsuneo had suggested covering himself in sand to mask it from sight--since humans tended to get squeamish around figures covered in blood--that simply wouldn't suffice for the task at hand. And so, the puppet would nod in understanding. It would seem to him that they also wished to work on his clothing--whether mending the kimono he already wore, or constructing him something new entirely.
    Deciding that she could likely work on that while he washed himself off, the shippai stripped to his draws before taking the wash cloth and dampening it in water.
    In truth, he wasn't really certain. It was apparent to him, by the way the woman was dressed and presented herself, that she had a high taste for fashion. He didn't care to be the center of attention, and the puppet valued practicality above anything else. But, still, he wasn't entirely opposed to something new, either. Truly, he didn't care one way or another. He could be in nice garb or dressed in--well, rags--and it would make little difference. It was nice to look presentable, but he didn't want to worry about upsetting her should any of her work get damaged while in battle. Though, that also presented the question of whether or not he'd be fighting much, to begin with.
    Upon his return to Sunagakure, he wasn't certain if he'd be sent on endless missions of assassinations, anymore. Twenty years had passed, and while he was certain there would always be threats that needed elimination--would he be tasked to carry them all out? And would it be any real trouble for him? He'd managed to keep himself in this condition, so far, the chances of being faced with any real opposition that could cause room for worry was actually quite slim, he supposed. And, even less so if he ended up being locked up in some storage unit for the next thirty years, or however long it might be before he was next needed.
    "Whatever you think is best," he decided, giving them free reign instead. Since he held such little preference, perhaps it was better to just let her decide after all.
    It wouldn't take him too long to properly wash the blood, sand, and dirt off of his artificial skin. There would be some effort, but his vessel was mostly resistant to any serious staining to begin with.

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[Arai Shimako]

"Whatever I think is best? That's giving me a little too much leeway," she laughed. "My mind runs wild with creativity. You seem to like your basics more." She sized up the torn kimono he had been wearing - it was more subtle than her kitschy taste. He was designed for battle, though. He needed to be able to blend in and move unseen, not stand out. Something more flashy might be fun, but it wasn't practical for people who weren't going to be hiding inside of giant puppets the entire time they worked.

Shimako selected a bolt of fabric similar to the pattern on his old kimono and used her puppet string to grab her pins and thread, etc., setting to work on putting the garb together. Puppetry made things like this a little easier, since it was like having ten hands instead of two, and the cut of his clothing was generic enough that she'd worked with it many times for the construction of many puppets. 

Soon enough, she had something serviceable together, and it seemed like Unit 294 had cleaned up nicely.

"When people get back from long journeys, I usually like to ask them about their trips," Shimako said, thoughtful. Shippai weren't really able to share things like that, though, were they?

"Do you remember anything about yours?" They inquired as they offered him the new clothing.

[294]

 

- spirits pace -

"Through the shadows cast by their graves"

Too much leeway? There would be no patent expression on his face--not that the Shippai was incapable of emoting, but he rarely chose to. Still, what they said struck him as odd. Was that not the point in being a human being? To move with one's will? If she'd been granted the opportunity to choose, why would she restrict themselves? Still, if she decided to create something that she thought would suit him better, he was not opposed to it.
    The puppet watched as the woman began her work, using her own skills of puppetry to quickly craft together something new for him. Simpler, dark, and with neutral accents to it--but beautiful in its own right. The shippai marveled briefly. Never jealous for the fact that he could not use chakra, but endlessly enamored by the craftmanship and abilities of mankind. Different, but not less than. He certainly could not have made something as nice in such brief time.
    The woman continued to carry the conversation, mentioning how she often liked to ask people about their trips whenever they went home. Though, it seemed that they were aware of the Shippai's tendencies to forget.
    "Not much," he admitted, gratefully taking the clothing from her with a polite thanks. He started to dress himself as he tried to recall, but the memories were already foggy. Apparently, he'd been gone for twenty years. And had been labelled a Missing Ninja? Understandably so. But the experiences he'd had during those times were mostly lost on him. Of course, if he spent all of those years dedicated to his work, he was certain that there would likely be very little to tell--mostly just seeking out his target in various places. He'd probably not stopped often to enjoy the cultures of every country he crossed. Still, there were some things. "I was in Arashi no Kuni for some time. The rain never stops, there."
    Something the puppet had oddly enjoyed.
    The constant downpour and the roaring of a river's rapids was deafening.
    "Mostly, I just remember recent events. This one was graced with meeting Arashi-denka, and it is thanks to her that I was enlightened of my situation and able to return home. We fought against some criminals, together. Then, I met Unit 77; Tsuneo-sama. He guided me back to Sunagakure, and we talked, some. I apologize that this one has little else to say. Though, I'm certain I've made notes in the past two decades." He wasn't certain if it'd be anything of interest to her, though. "Do you visit outside of the village often, Shimako-san?"
    Did she ask simply to make conversation, or was there some underlying desire to live vicariously through the stories she heard due to some inability to experience them for herself?

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[Arai Shimako]

It was sad that he couldn't remember much. Though maybe he didn't grieve the loss of that kind of thing. The Shippai were very different people with a very different way of life, an understanding of the fact they would forget and forget again. Maybe being unable to retain it in the first place prevented one from growing sad about it? If you had no chance of recalling what you were mourning, you couldn't really fret about its loss. Perhaps it was too human a perspective, but that seemed sad to Shimako, too.

"I've never been to Arashi no Kuni," she said, a little wistfully. She'd lived her whole life in the desert. The idea of a place where the water is abundant and runs without end almost sounded like fantasy. She knew it was a real place, but it sounded like stories travelers traded about oases when they were desperately thirsty.

"You don't have to apologize for not having much to share. It's not like you're withholding on purpose," she joked, trying to keep it light. "I'm glad that you happened upon Arashi and Tsuneo so they could bring you back. Learning you were missing for so long couldn't have been pleasant for you. As for me, I travel out of the village occasionally. I'm often allowed leave to visit Raptor's Peak to study with the hawks, but my work here can keep me very busy. I'd like to go again soon."

Or perhaps to travel even wider. Shinobi work allowed her to travel quite a bit for missions, when she wasn't here researching, but part of her did miss her childhood. She had been raised by performers who journeyed where they liked when they liked. Though she hadn't known her father, her mother always told her what a free spirit he had been. With the hawks, she had been able to spend days exploring nature if she liked. These weren't freedoms a soldier had. She didn't necessarily resent it, but sometimes she did feel like a caged bird.

[294]

 

- spirits pace -

"Through the shadows cast by their graves"

While he didn't quite have the information he may have needed to fully grasp why, Unit 294 did understand to a degree that there was a sound and common reasoning to the wistfulness in the woman's voice as she expressed that she'd never been to the Land of Storms. In this climate, Unit 294 would have been more surprised that any of the children or people within Sunagakure had ever seen the rain. He'd be delighted to know otherwise, but it wasn't his understanding of the present, past, or perhaps even future reality.
    The woman continued lightly in the conversation, trying to empathize in their own way of how it must have been like to have received a revelation to the magnitude that Unit 294 had. And they'd been right. It hadn't been pleasant--far from it. He'd not realized that he'd been gone for so long, or that anybody had even been looking for him. To know that so much time had passed in what had felt like only a few minutes or days--it was quite alarming. It had been telling, too, that the first thought and worry he'd had was that something had gone wrong--that he was defective in some way, and needed to be put out of service, but not being able to even carry the memory of experience to alert him of what the underlying issue had been. Having to search and check his notes to affirm reality and the passing of time. There had been relief, at least, that it hadn't been his fault. Arashi still had faith in him--believed that he wasn't broken.
    But if he could feel fear, that was the closest he'd come to it in ages.
    "What do you study?" Unit 294 inquired. He had little need for adventure, but if he could be put to use in some way, perhaps he could offer service to her. "Perhaps I could aid you in your next journey. For safekeeping, of course." While she likely would not have been in danger, and Unit 294 figured that as a shinobi and as a human, she was not likely going to be in much danger while performing what seemed to be such a menial task. Merely visiting to study--it hardly enticed danger at all, and likely not the kind of danger that even a genin couldn't take care of. But, still.
    Whether it was night-watching, patrolling, guarding, transporting, tracking, or killing...
    Unit 294 did not wish to be locked away.
    It didn't matter. Not truly. But, still, there was something innate in him--something primitive. It did not wish to be put to sleep.

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[Arai Shimako]

Oh, right! As Unit 294 had only recently returned from the field and hadn't been around when she was brought to the village, he wouldn't know much about her role at all, would he? So many things for him to learn and catch up on.

"I study the sage arts. I've been acting as this village's sage for some years now." Of course, she'd only really settled into the role when she'd taken to performing research for the puppet corps rather than emphasizing field work. And she'd just taken on her apprentices now, so it felt like she was still very new to the role and all it entailed.

"I wouldn't mind company on my next trip. Though, the hawks can be a little testy about human visitors." Well, Unit 294 wasn't quite human, was he? It was hard not to think of him as one. Even though he had the body of a puppet, he had consciousness. He communicated. Shimako wasn't entirely sure the hawks would see a difference.

Part of the study of senjutsu was recognizing the life energy in everything. Like a form of animism. To them, someone so close to human probably may as well be human.

"Ah, I can probably convince them to allow you to come." Especially because his memory waning would prevent him from recalling the path to Raptor's Peak. So long as their privacy was maintained, they wouldn't mind so much. What they wanted was less a total lack of visitors and more the prevention of humans encroaching on their territory.

[294]

 

- spirits pace -

"Through the shadows cast by their graves"

Oh, the sage arts? That meant... something... he was sure. But to him, the word and title bore no memory or significance. That did not mean he thought little of her identity or position--but he understood that he did not understand it. And that was fair; Unit 294 was respectful even so. A sage was surely a figure of significance, and gave the shippai the impression that she was likely quite wise or enlightened. At least, that was what he associated with "sages". He did not understand what that had to do with hawks, but perhaps it was some kind of meditation thing. Becoming assimilated with nature and all of her creatures--beautiful in its own respect.
    "Oh, this one is not human," Unit 294 assured, though she likely did not need to be reminded given... the whole reason he was here to see her and not... a doctor... for people... Shimako was a puppet doctor, he supposed. That was certainly one way of looking at it.
    Still, if the woman thought they could find some way to get Unit 294 to accompany her, he was glad for it.
    "Thank you," it said, manufacturing a slight smile. Of course, he did not have any real interest in the birds or sage arts, but it wasn't for a lack of care. There was beauty to be appreciated in all aspects of life, and Unit 294 was respectful to let them be with no involvement of his own. But, as was likely becoming quite clear to the woman, Unit 294 was driven by... some element of desire to be useful. Helpful. In any kind of way. Whatever that may have looked like--whatever he was capable of.

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[Arai Shimako]

He reassured her that he wasn't human, and, see, she understood that on a theoretical level. She knew what the Shippai were and how they worked. Yet, still she couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to consider him as one, or at least recognize his closeness to one. Being human wasn't the end-all-be-all, of course. There were many brilliant beings in the world who weren't human, like the hawks, but the point was that Shimako regarded all life, especially all intelligent life, with a certain kind of respect.

And there was something very human about the way Unit 294... behaved, she supposed. Not in his actual behavior. He was a puppet with limited memory, carrying out orders, communicating in that capacity... Yet he still had a clear, individual drive. He wanted to be helpful. Wasn't that a very human emotion? Humans were so social, especially compared to other creatures of this world. Wasn't it so human to reach out to other creatures and to say look at me, I'm here, I can help you, just because I want to help something...?

She realized that she'd been furrowing her brow in thought and sat up straighter, rubbing her forehead.

"This is almost a topic change, and- please, tell me if this is rude, and I'll apologize- but... do you remember anything about your life before?" He didn't remember his travels, so it seemed so unlikely, but it was also hard to imagine a soul not clinging to something.

[294]

 

- spirits pace -

"Through the shadows cast by their graves"

Memories. His life before? Before he had left the village? Though, Unit 294 knew exactly what they'd meant. When I was... human? "No, there is nothing," Unit 294 stated simply. And, that was the truth. If he'd had family, he could not recall their faces. What he'd been before he'd been turned--what his life had looked like, entirely, he couldn't say with certainty. His favorite pass-times, hobbies, if he'd had friends or a lover. All of it was a mystery to him. "I cannot even remember what my name was." Something that haunted him, truthfully.
    Every person had one. It was, to him, the signifying mark of humanity--
    People gave names like gifts. They named their children, their friends, even their pets and some--even their belongings. Some humans even named themselves--but they all had one.
    And Unit 294 could not remember his.
    He was certain that he'd had one, once. But it had been lost--as everything else had been--and it bothered him in a way he didn't quite know how to articulate. But everything bothered him, really--it was why he often avoided conversing with people, and often didn't engage in small talk. Professionalism was most comfortable to the shippai--but even then, he understood the curiosity that people had. He understood their innate desire to speak and to share with one-another. People were incredibly social creatures--it was only natural.
    Her question was intrusive, but still, Unit 294 did not take offense or grow angry.
    "But still, I... It is..." His spirit toiled as he tried to conjure the words. He didn't know how to describe it, how to explain it. "It is dormant, within me. Sleeping, but not... gone." He didn't know how to explain it--but he knew it was true. "I do not remember anything from my past, but still I... have... an idea. There are consistencies and patterns and details that I can pick up on and pay notice to. I do not know who I was, but the past has left clues for me to collect. I am not... entirely oblivious." He looked down at his artificial hands and held them together. He could not feel it, but he could pick up the slight sound that they made. "I am drawn and driven by feelings that I do not understand--powered by a will that stood resolute when all else faded away. I fear that it is possible for those memories and experiences to awaken once more. But... I am very old... and my journal has no note of anything from my time before I was a puppet. Whatever I... whoever I was, what experiences I'd had... I don't think I want to remember."

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[Arai Shimako]

As Unit 294 explained it, Shimako felt a deep sadness. Not pitying, but certainly sympathetic. Even if emotion was muted, she couldn't imagine the internal confusion and distress that would come with that. Being so aware that you used to be someone else, able to see the faint mirage of your past, but not actually capable of grasping the shape of it. It would be frustrating, if nothing else. Like trying to grasp grains of sand.

"I can understand that," she said, frowning. She began to worry at some of the fabric still on the table just to do something with her hands. "You've lived so many lifetimes since that one. Even if you could remember everything, it wouldn't necessarily do you any good... You're a new person now, regardless of your past, in a sense. Though you're built on the same frame, there can still be differences." That was often the case with regular puppets - when built on the same frame, they would still have mild differences that could grow with each new component added.

"...Have you ever considered giving yourself a new name? One you resonate with now?" She pondered. Unit 294 was certainly serviceable, but a little... dehumanizing. Perhaps she wouldn't think such if he really had no recollection at all, thought of himself only as some thing meant to guard, but the fact he could feel the impression of his past life... Shimako doesn't think she would like being a Shippai very much, personally. Should she specify that in her will?