Matsuoko Hidefumi is sick of this.
He woke up to a commotion, a commotion that made him move from his academy to the middle of the rich district of Minamigawa.
A rich district that wouldn't exist unless he was here.
The distance isn't the problem, it's not like he's in the habit of being sedentary, nor the commotion is the problem, he can guess what happened, and it's not something worrying. The people around searching for drama aren't the problem too, nor the rain, hah, who is he kidding? He loves the rain.
That's the only good thing coming from this day, like all days, he can feel the water smothering his kimono, he can feel the water under his skin ready to move and lash out at any moment, like a river he's bottling, at any second, he could wish to remove this annoyance from his body and feel the clarity that comes from being a Matsuoko, at any moment, he could breath, and the world could sharpen around him.
He doesn't though.
He'll suffer for now.
Because if he doesn't, he's pretty sure that he'll decapitate that dwarf in front of him.
"That's a ROBBERY A GENUIN-!" And he ignores him again.
That's what sickens him today. The insolence of those villagers, they're in different territories.
He is a noble. The top of the top. They're random measly villagers that does not understand how thankful they should be that someone like him is around, they don't understand the difference in status, in strength, in everything, they cannot understand that he could pull out his sword and pain this street red in seconds. They're just like animals, able to understand authority, but not the DEGREE of authority.
They don't understand that the only reason he's listening to them, somewhat, is because of how merciful he is. It is because he is a samurai, through and through, and mindless killing is the way of those filthy ninjas, not samurais.
So even as the only remaining survivor of the legend of his blood, the only one worth his salt at least.
He'll be gracious.
He'll be gracious and simply let everything the dwarf says pass through one ear, to the other.
He has practice with hearing bullshit.
He's been hearing bullshit for sixty-four years already, before the pathetic ninjas even formed those great villages they oh so love. Well, love...not like the peace the senjus hoped for took hold.
Second great ninja war they're calling it. Been two years since it started. He was here for the first one and wasn't surprised at the second one, there was no way those treehuggers wouldn't want more land, the economy was too shitty for that.
And as expected. They started the war.
Well, at this point, he wasn't surprised. He wasn't even sure how he was still alive to be honest.
He heard so much bullshit, he's seen so much bullshit. Between those tailed beasts, the ghost of the uchiha, and his own honored family that couldn't adapt to the rising tides coming for them, he's heard too much.
He doesn't really know when he started slacking on those noble habits that have been grinded into him since birth.
Maybe it's when he found himself to be an average, not good, not bad, practitioner of his family technique.
Maybe it's when he heard of someone the same age as he being able to unite and create the first hidden village with the help of his friend.
Maybe it's when he saw those great villages pop up like cancers, when he saw people the same age as he, always, surpass him and become stronger than him, so much in fact that he started to over-rely on his family like a cowardly samurai.
Or maybe it was when Kirigakure formed.
....yes.
The words of the dwarf in front of him reminds him very well why he's here. In a pathetic village on the corner of Amegakure, in a place so far away and disgusting he's finally safe.
Well. As much as he can be with a war around.
The words reminds him why he's allowing this to happen. Because he has no choice.
He's pretty sure his values started to drop and crash at the arrival of Kirigakure, at their deals with their daimyo, at their rising place in the land of water, at how they desecrated more and more of his family territory, slowly encroaching toward their own issues. When his own daimyo he vowed to serve betrayed his family to get cozy cozy with those new ninjas, how he threw centuries of the Matsuoko name in the trash for instant gratification, how because of those useless ninja wars, resentment built for kekkei genkais users, so much in fact that it even tainted his own family name.
He remembers a lot of things. Just like he remembers how those disgusting Kiri ninja's don't play fair.
He probably snapped when his wife blood woke him up in the middle of this misty night.
Or when he, a respected but mediocre middle aged samurai of the great Matsuoko family became the only survivor of this massacre.
And the rest? Well. It's history really.
Everything, since he was born, was a build up for him to lose everything thirty years ago under the hands of the previous and current mizukage of Kiri.
Everything else was to grind him down.
The hunter nins tracking him and doing their utmost best to end his bloodline for good, the grief of his entire family getting annihilated, the burden of being the only one knowing their history and having the duty of keeping it standing, the wrath of seeing his family name being dragged in the dirt and being feared by all when the rain descended to being forgotten, the solidarity from seeing the Uzumakis going through the same thing as his own family did, the dissapointment of getting a useless fucking drunk of a son and a useless daughter who aren't talented at ALL, everything else, everything.
Everything was just to smooth him down into a harmless Matsuoko that needs to hide in a random village in the midst of amegakure, as far away from kiri as he could reach, as far away from his traitor of a daimyo as he could reach, all while using the current climate of amegakure as a smokescreen for his existence.
There's problems with this. Yes. Now he needs to protect a random village from any ninjas passing through or around, and he needs to listen to their dumb fucking problems, but at least, amegakure, as a weak hidden village without any backing is a breeding ground for fights to happen, everyone pass through, and nobody can recognize him.
It's annoying. But it's true.
And he's sick of it being true.
"That's RID-!" He raises a hand. A single hand, his left hand. The dwarf shuts up.
Finally. Even the magnificent rain around him wasn't enough to calm his rage, he did well to shush.
"I understand you. However, we are in the middle of a war. None stole from you, you did not see them as they were ninjas, they cannot be caught as such. Consider your loss as a war resource. They only took enough to refill their own weapons, here, and in the future. It is sad, but true, I cannot do anything for you"
The man stops moving, slowly, he lowers his hand and realizes that yes. Yes the scary old man that takes all the childrens won't help him.
"If you want a new job, go build the walls with the others."
With this last sentence, Hidefumi turns around and leave.
He has things to do. He needs to survive the war, save his dumb son and daughter, no matter how useless, they're still his blood and can be used for breeding.
Maybe he'll get someone talented enough to revive his family before a Jonin strong enough run him down, or the hunter nins of Kiri finally find him again.
Turning his head. He sees eyes, brown, with dark blue flakes in them, just like rain.
They're spying on him from a window.
Well now that's annoying.
Isn't he two years old already? Still got them? Truly, truly annoying. The first talented grandchild he gets is too young to survive the war going on.
Truly a shame.
What did that dumb son of his thought of getting a child in the middle of a fucking war. A useless wife too.
At least Kiko is old enough that he can do something. And his daughter isn't as weak as his son.
This boy though?
Well, that's just too bad for him.
Eh, whatever, he'll have the time to create another one if he survives this war.
Continuing his path, Hidefumi takes his time to enjoy the rain.
He raises his hands.
Four handseals. That's all it takes.
One imitates a bird, with the middle and pinky fingers being pressed into palms with thumbs, two fingers -the ring, and the index fingers- raise up, touching their opposite. One imitates a rat, the middle and left fingers straight up, envlopped with the entire right hand while the other left fingers are folded on themselves. One imitates an ox, the fingers extended and interlocked in a straight line, before the left middle and ring finger bend. Finally, the last one, less smooth than the others, as if the owner has been practicing something new but still needs to refine it, comes for a finish. A hand. Closed. The right one into a loose fist, and a left hand coming up to rest on the back of said fist.
Some would call this a dog. Even if really, it doesn't look like much.
No one can argue with the effects though.
With four handseals, the rain intensify.
He picked up some things from those filthy ninjas at least.
Found it fit to find a way to make it rain.
After all, as a Matsuoko, he loves the rain. And any of his blood that says otherwise?
Well, they're just lying to themselves.