[Chikamatsu Kiyoshi]

     "Knock that off, Kiyoshi." The Kazekage smiled, stopped bouncing his foot on his knee. "The more things change, the more they stay the same - isn't that right, uncle?" he laughed, quoting from a long-dead author. His elderly Ōshi uncle scowled, settled his head on his fist. Kiyoshi sat forward on the couch.

     Sunagakure stretched out afore them through the large glass window on the second story of the Ōshi Clan compound. The sight was familiar, but somehow utterly different the last few months. Sandstone roofs caught the light, glowing yellow. Greenhouses their clan had built glinted far off into the distance.

     He smirked at his uncle, who clearly seemed to be trying to avoid his gaze, at the other end of the couch. Like many of the elders, he had always held reservations about Kiyoshi. It'd been no small controversy when the young boy was allowed to learn their techniques, despite not adopting their name. The Second Kazekage's meddling - nepotism, some called it. Three decades had mellowed sentiments, but the elderly still seemed to remember as though it were yesterday.

     At least his uncle seemed to tolerate him more than the others, until he started to spout history. Kiyoshi chuckled to himself a little. So few seemed to value tradition, except as far as they could use it to restrict and gatekeep.

Ōshi Shigeru | 224 words