[Muramasa Uemon]

just before sunrise

---

In the short hours just before dawn, the wanderer trudged his way through a brewing storm back to camp.

The past few weeks had been exhausting, and he found little time to sleep with everything going on. Time cut short in Amegakure no Sato, a visit to Kumogakure no Sato resulting in a fruitless search, and now, allying with Jashinists. 

For safety reasons, wherever he went, Kota rarely strayed far from his side. He refused to offer the boy up as fodder to any Hidden Village, and the child had made it clear that he would only escape if he was ever left in someone else's care. Aside from that... the two were bonded, now. A 'pack', as Kota put it. For all of his dislike of children...

He now found himself as guardian to one. Quietly, he neared the smoldering fire, his footsteps inaudible as he gazed down at the smoking embers. Uemon knelt, then tended to it, adding just enough wood to keep it going.

As he moved, he winced slightly. Fresh injuries paining him, his bandaged right hand still awkward and stiff due to its burn. Still, he did his best to stay silent in case the boy was still sleeping. "Today will be busy." He thought, glancing to the child. "I need to make sure he can take care of himself..." It was a necessity of utmost importance. "In case..."

Trailed thoughts, unfinished as he turned back to the blaze. The Shinobi World was dangerous... now more than ever for them both. Anonymity was useful while it lasted, but at this rate, he was bound to earn even more ire. 

From powerful foes with powerful friends— and if they were a threat to him, they would be a threat to Kota by extension. They had much to work on, first in regards to puppetry, then swordplay. Uemon's own blade was notably absent now, damaged beyond repair and sealed for keeping in a scroll. Until he could decide what to do with it.

Uemon was hurt, down a weapon, and with multiple puppets in varying stages of disrepair. And yet... several crucial moves had been made. "I should let him rest a bit longer." He thought as he sat, his aching feet appreciating the break.

Today would be busy... but they had time, for now. So he sat, drank cool water from his canteen, and waited.

---

[Kota]

Feels like We had         matching wounds But mine's still black and bruised      And yours is perfectly               fine Kota lay near the campfire. Fixed a safe distance away, but close enough to still feel its warmth. His head rest on a folded arm, and the other kept his blanket close to his body to keep warm. The fire helped, of course, but the added layer was helpful considering the cold, stormy weather that threatened to drown the both of them.     With the heavy sound of thunder and downpour, Kota did not wake upon Uemon's arrival--as the boy was so often hyperaware of his environment, even in his sleep.     Several minutes would pass, and the boy's expression twisted in something unpleasant--and he kicked out his scarred leg in his sleep, as though to push something away. The child was prone to tossing and turning in his sleep, as well as waking up frequently throughout the night to check on his surroundings. During evenings where Uemon was there by his side, he was quick to fall back to sleep on most occasions, but old habits picked up whenever the wanderer left him behind.     It would be a little while again before Kota stirred once more--dark brown eyes blinking groggily open in the light of the campfire. The flames are big again. Masa must be back... Looking around from where he lay on the ground, Kota caught sights of the older wanderer resting not far from where he was.     Quiet, both of them. Kota didn't immediately make it known that he was awake, if Uemon didn't already notice.     Things were... different, than when they had first met.     It was a change that the boy had picked up on, but didn't quite know how to place. It was familiar, in a painful, miserable way. Damaged weapons, discreetly hidden away though noticeably no longer used. The puppets, which were broken down and in disrepair.     Kota had not been getting into many fights alongside Uemon, so more likely, the older wanderer went out hunting and that's when all of the bad things seemed to happen. Returning at times, injured, with broken down gear, and all kinds of other bad things.     It reminds me of dad...     Kota stared at the dancing flames of the campfire with an empty expression.

✜

[Muramasa Uemon]

the crackling of fire signals

---

Much had happened in the time since he and Kota first met... and yet, the months seemed so short.

It felt like just yesterday that he happened upon a lone child, cradling a busted doll and on the verge of tears. After that it was their impromptu puppet show together, then the incident with the angry merchant that ended in blood.

To Arashi no Kuni and their time lodging with Aikawa Mikazuki, then to Kaminari no Kuni and back. Nohara no Kuni seemed a more welcoming place for them, so for the moment, that was where he planned on taking Kota next. At the very least they might find shelter... and it being centrally located between his areas of interest was ideal.

As he sat near the fire, thinking, he spared another glance at the boy. Noting that his eyes were now open, staring silently into the flames. "Kota..." He spoke quietly, his gaze seeming to soften a bit. "...did you get much rest?"

Uemon knew the child rarely slept soundly, but he could hope. The wanderer looked tired himself, and he was coated in a thin layer of grime from his travels. Lately, rest seemed more like a luxury to forgo than a necessity. And with all they needed to do... it did not seem likely he would be getting any for some time yet. "Are you hungry?"

No kitchen meant no more complex meals for the immediate future, but they still had rations. Besides that, he could always try hunting down a rabbit, if they needed. "He looks..." A trailed thought. "...sad." It was unfortunate.

Part of him wanted nothing more than for the boy to live a normal life— a safe one, away from himself. But every alternative seemed worse than the last. At least with him, he knew for certain Kota would not be pressed into service as a soldier in what was sure to be a short, cruel existence. Or else abandoned by some overeager caretaker.

Taking him in out of pity only to think him too wild to handle, later. "No." He thought, recalling their past talks. "As ridiculous as it seems... the safest place for him is with me." Uemon paused... then held out his canteen. "Thirsty?"

---

[Kota]

Feels like We had         matching wounds But mine's still black and bruised      And yours is perfectly               fine Kota glanced over to where Uemon was sitting when the older of the two spoke up, asking if he got any rest. The boy took in a deep breath and nodded, rolling over onto his stomach and stretching slightly before exhaling loudly. "I'm not tired..." he mumbled groggily. Then, shifting himself onto his knees and scootching closer until he was curled up comfortably nearby Uemon.     The elder asked if he was hungry, and Kota didn't need to think about it too much.     Was he very hungry? No. He hadn't felt hunger like that in quite a long time. Winter was always the hardest month for him when he'd been on his own, but during the other seasons he knew how to find something nearby to satiate his needs. Even if he didn't always have a full belly, he could usually find something to skirt by.     But was he hungry?     "A lil bit," Kota answered honestly. He hadn't eaten in several hours--not since before he'd tried going to sleep. And, so, he crawled over to where his bag had been set down and rummaged through his belongings. Plucking a small wrap of dried crackers, the child made his way back over to Uemon before sitting down next to him. Curling up, and leaning into the man as he nibbled on one of the crackers, not minding the sweat and grime that had accumulated over the past few days.     Truthfully, Kota was hardly in pristine condition, either.     Tangles in his hair, blood stained in his clothing, and dirt from instances where he lay on the ground or hunted in the tall grass for snakes or gophers.     "I hadda dream," Kota said, sighing deeply, then nodding a little in answer as he took the canteen. Taking a swig before handing it back, the boy elaborated, "I was an egg." Though, he sounded deeply bothered by what he described.

✜

[Muramasa Uemon]

the return of wolves

---

A silent nod followed the boy's words, his eyes drifting back to the fire for a moment. "Yeah..." he mumbled.

Sleep seemed like a luxury to forgo, recently. "...I haven't been either, lately." Certainly his body was tired, the bags under his eyes speaking volumes about his general lack of rest. But his mind was a different story entirely.

General alertness, the stress of recent days, and his all-consuming desire for progress meant that he could not sleep well even if he wanted. "A small price to pay." He thought, watching Kota scoot closer to him by the fire. The boy seemed to consider his hunger for a moment... then forage in his bag for snacks. A bit of air escaped Uemon's nose.

Not quite a laugh, but close as the child snuggled up next to him. "Oh?" he asked the boy with some slight amusement in his voice as he spoke of his dream. The wanderer handed him the canteen to drink from as his undamaged left hand moved to rest atop the boy's head. A mess of brown tangles in his fingers, Uemon's eyes glancing at the scar where he had been struck by a rock months ago. "Did you crack your shell?" he asked him.

Catching the worry in the child's tone when he described the experience. "I remember having bad dreams, too... when I was your age." Back then, his mother was usually around to help calm him. After his family's exile, he had only Hanagisa to rely on. "She was never the most comforting figure to turn to..." he thought, his mind turning to his shinobi mentor soon after. For the smallest of moments, his brow furrowed. "Not that old drunk, either." One was much too harsh with little time to provide comfort, the other too jovial and dismissive. "Just remember— they're not real."

Muted as his expressions often were, his voice always became a tinge softer when speaking with Kota. Some attempt at gentleness, in his own repressed way. Uemon spied a bit of blood on the boy's clothing, then looked to his face.

Perhaps an animal's... but he had to be certain. "Kota," he began, nodding to the stains. "Is that yours?"

---

[Kota]

Feels like We had         matching wounds But mine's still black and bruised      And yours is perfectly               fine Kota wasn't sure why, but Uemon's restlessness bothered him more than his own. Perhaps because he was used to his own misfortunes and anxieties, that he didn't think it was anything to bat an eye at. Uemon, on the other hand, had seemed to visibly change. And Kota didn't like it. He didn't like the man's weariness, or that tired, forlorn look he got from time to time. It was all too familiar, and all too frightening.     Still, though, the boy didn't say anything about it. Instead, he kept his feelings of the matter to himself. For the time being.     The child tilted his head back slightly as he gulped from the canteen, using his sleeve to wipe away at his mouth before handing it back to the older wanderer. Feeling Uemon's good hand stroke at his hair, Kota didn't give any protest to being touched and comforted in the small way. Though, he did frown when Uemon asked further questions about his dream. "No..." he spoke quietly. "But I was..."     How did he describe it?     He was an egg.     Small. Fragile. Completely vulnerable to large birds without his parents there to defend him. Just a baby. Even in nature, it wasn't expected that he should have been alone.     "I was... in a nest. High up... and... I just felt really... really scared. There wasn't any other birds, it was just me. And I was just an egg. I wasn't hatched yet, so I couldn't move or do anything." He couldn't hunt, or find his own food, or fly. "I just felt..." He lightly hugged himself. "Really... really scared." It was all he could do to describe the dream. He didn't crack. There hadn't even been a crow bothering him, or a sparrow taking twigs from the nest. Nothing like that. Just... this horrible... awful feeling. And he had been an egg.     Still, Uemon assured him that dreams were just that--dreams. Make-believe. Not real.     "Yeah..." the boy spoke quietly. Thankfully. He was... a lot better than an egg. He had hands, and could do all kinds of things.     When the older male questioned about the blood on Kota's clothing, asking if it was his own, the boy simply shook his head.     "Nah-uh," he answered. He wasn't sure exactly which spots Uemon was talking about, but Kota couldn't remember any recent injuries. Nothing that would leave bloodstains, at least. Perhaps some scrapes or small scratches here and there, which were usual and to be expected of the feral child while they traversed the wilderness. "I defended the camp good."

✜

[Muramasa Uemon]

a child's fretful dreams

---

Talk of eggs might have made another person laugh, but Uemon could plainly see how it affected the child.

Nightmares did not have to be rational to be scary, so he listened carefully to the tale, and treated it with all the seriousness that he would a real dilemma. "That does sound scary." He said, glancing to the boy as he spoke.

Being alone was fine— even preferable, to someone like him. However, he understood firsthand just how isolating and awful that experience could be to a child. So as the child neared the end of recounting, he did something that he rarely did, and placed his arm around the boy's shoulder. In some awkward half-hug that for him, was sincere.

Although he could not be with Kota at all times, he wanted to make sure that when they were together, that he was doing everything in his power to care for the boy. In his own stilted way... it was love. "Don't worry," he told him.

Looking to the child with an assured expression. "You're not alone, anymore." Not as long as he was breathing... and to the best of his ability. "We're a pack," he said, giving Kota a gentle shake, then a nod. "Right?" The boy seemed to understand that it was only a bad dream, but Uemon could still see a frown on his face. So he turned...

To gaze into the crackling fire as he searched for words to comfort him. "Long ago, my sensei told me that dreams are just the mind's way of sorting out feelings..." he began, thinking back on her words. As stoic as she had always been, even she tried to do what she could to assuage a young boy's fears... even if she never would admit it. "Perhaps your dream isn't about being small and helpless," That seemed to be how Kota was feeling, but he had a different view of it. "Perhaps it's just about your potential—" A log cracked on the fire, then split.

Kicking up some cinders from the small pit as the flames danced. He paused, wrinkling his nose slightly as he tried to recall if he had taught the boy that word. "How strong you'll be, one day." A decent enough explanation for his purposes. "Eggs hatch, fledglings grow... and eventually, they fly." He looked to the boy, one corner of his mouth perking up slightly. "It's something to think about, anyhow." As the conversation turned towards the blood on Kota's clothing, the boy assured him that it was not his. A hint of concern crept into Uemon's gaze as he spoke of defending the camp. He was thankful the child was not hurt... but his words begged another question. "...defended it from what?" A small animal of some sort, he hoped. Uemon waited for the child's reply.

Looking on like the protective guardian he had come to be. Regardless of his answer, the topic brought his initial plan to mind, and so he spoke of it. "We need to do some training today," he said, giving Kota a somewhat stern look. "There's a jutsu I want to teach you. A clever one, with strings, that I think you'll like."

Eventually, he would need to teach him how to properly use his wakizashi... but swordsmanship could wait just a bit longer. Kota's foremost talent lied with puppetry from all that he had seen, and honing that was the priority here.

If he became skilled enough in its usage, the child would never need to enter the fray himself. "All the better."

---

[Kota]

Feels like We had         matching wounds But mine's still black and bruised      And yours is perfectly               fine Uemon gently wrapped an arm around the young boy's frame in a half-hug as he offered his reassurances. The comfort of the man's half-embrace was safe, secure. Uemon had strong arms, and he was able to lift a lot more than Kota could--so it felt nice.     But, still... it wasn't like when his father used to hug him.     The man's arms were so huge, he could completely envelop Kota's little body and shield him away from everything bad.     Or, perhaps, it had just been so long ago that Kota was small enough such things were possible.     The boy frowned slightly, then turned his face into Uemon's shirt and buried himself there, wrapping his own arms around the man and clinging tightly to him. He nodded slightly when Uemon assured him that they were a pack--but even then, Kota wasn't so certain. He might still leave me one day.     Dreams are just the mind's way of sorting out feelings, Uemon explained.     "Sorting out feelings...?" Kota mumbled slightly into Uemon's shirt. That seemed... like it made sense. Maybe Kota wasn't an egg--and he never really actually was one. But... he had been a baby, once. And he'd been a little boy, a long time ago, too. And the feeling of his parents never returning to their nest to look after him again was something that he knew too well. "Mh... I see..." he spoke quietly, turning his face away from the man to look into the fire.     Though, Uemon spoke of potential.     "Potential?"     How strong he'd be, one day... Maybe. Kota's eyes wandered to Uemon's recent injuries.     "Well... I'm definitely not a little boy anymore," he spoke quietly. I've always been pretty tough, and pretty strong. But I've not even been kidnapped in a long time, so I must not look like prey anymore. Which certainly meant he was growing. Proven even moreso when Uemon questioned what Kota had defended the camp from. "A hunter."     Not exactly the truest of fights, but he still saw it as a victory nonetheless. Frightening as the situation had been, he'd somehow made it out with his life. Maybe it was only because the hunter had been a woman, and they did seem different enough from men, Kota was slowly observing.     Uemon said that they would do some training today--but the boy only perked up when the older of the duo mentioned strings? "A clever one?" Kota asked, suddenly pushing into Uemon as he attempted to tackle the teen onto the ground. "One with strings? Is ya--are ya gonna show me how to do something cool with a puppet?"

✜

[Muramasa Uemon]

lead to deeper musings on

---

Uemon was nudged slightly as the boy embraced him back, stifling a slight wince from his bruised ribs as he looked to the boy. He felt the child's small arms wrap around his midsection in a hug and he hesitated for a moment.

Displays of affection did not come easily to him, but he saw in that moment what he had seen when he first happened upon the boy in Tsuchi no Kuni. A fretful, vulnerable boy, with no family or even a proper home to call his own. It was just like he had been, at his age... and he remembered how his own mentors had proved insufficient.

Hanagisa far too proud and stoic, Suppa too unserious and irresponsible. So, Uemon did what might have been uncharacteristic of him, and brought his right arm around Kota's shoulder to hug him back. A small, but genuine try. The boy seemed to be pondering his words, and he could hear him mumble a few words into his shirt as he tried working it all out. "No, you're not," Uemon replied about him being little, allowing his right hand to rest on the child's head once again as one corner of his mouth perked just slightly. "You're getting bigger every year."

Stronger too, slowly but surely. Before long, Kota would be the same age he was when he began his training in earnest. Which meant that they would need to shift priorities... especially with the enemies he gained lurking about.

Kota mentioned having staved off a hunter, and the older wanderer's face twitched. "A hunter showed up and you scared them off?" He asked, leaning back to stare at the boy's face. "What happened exactly?" The blood was concerning, so he wanted to be certain. There was worry in his eyes, and he might have checked the boy for wounds if he did not already trust Kota to tell him if he was injured. "Are you sure you're alright?" He asked him, a slight frown forming on his lips as he stared at the blood. Anything could happen, and if some hunter was assailed... that was their own fault. "It is better to be safe than sorry..." he thought, then Kota tried his best to tackle him.

He was still a bit too small and light to topple him over, but the older wanderer still swayed in place at the boy's attempt and grimaced a bit in pain. "Y-yeah..." he replied, slowly raising a hand to pat him on the head. His midsection ached more than he thought. "Not with a puppet, but you can use this alongside one." Uemon explained, breaking free of Kota's tackle-hug to scoot away and start reaching for some of the nearby logs. They were already split so they were easy to stack, and after a few moments' time, a small wooden tower sat a few feet away from them. "It's a subtle technique," he explained, pausing as he returned to his original spot next to the child. They definitely had not learned 'subtle' yet. "A sly one." He said, nodding to the logs. "It works like this."

For a brief moment he flexed the stiff fingers on his right hand, then pointed his index at the log. The tip glowed a subtle blue, then a semi-translucent thread shot forth to latch onto one of the topmost logs. Uemon turned his hand, tensed his finger, then pulled, the small motion of the Kugutsugen no Wana yanking the log quickly out of place.

It was fast enough to send the log clattering to the ground without wrecking the whole tower, and he turned to Kota to see if he had been watching. "It's called the Kugutsugen no Wana. Remember— you can use your strings for more than just puppets," he told the boy, speaking in a soft tone of voice that was a bit more paternal than usual. It had been some time since they trained properly, and he wanted to gauge his level of understanding. "You can use them to pull things towards yourself, to pick them up, or even to trip someone in a fight." A few basic uses, but the possibilities only ended with the user's creativity. "Form a chakra thread, attach it to that log, and pull," he said, glancing to the tower before giving Kota a reassuring nod. "Go on."

---

SPOILER: Click to show

OFFENSIVE TECHNIQUES:
NAME: Kugutsugen no Wana [Puppet String Snare]
RANK: C
CHAKRA USAGE: Very Low
CLASSIFICATION: Ninjutsu [Puppetry]
ELEMENT: -
HANDSEALS: 0
DESCRIPTION:
A very simple technique in concept, the puppeteer will quickly loop one or more puppetry strings around their target(s) to give them a violent pull. This could potentially pull out the leg or pull down an arm of an unsuspecting opponent.