A Chance At Life

Akira yawned as he left his hotel. It was morning in the hidden mist, and the villages namesake hung about every corner of his vision. The snowy haired vampire brushed a few white strands out of his face, his ruby eyes scanning the area. It was time to explore the land and get a feel for what the village had to offer. He moved at a leisurely pace, his red trench coat deeply contrasting the typical blue or grey that the denizens of the city wore as they went about their daily routines.

His first stop, well, it was the local pocky stand where he bought a few sticks and a cup of beef dumplings to tide him over until he ate later that afternoon. He had slept in, not something he was used to, but certainly something he didn't mind in the least. Looking around as he made his way to his next stop, he couldn't help but notice many of the shinobi around him had various swords and such strapped to them, it made him think how odd he was. Being a Samurai who didn't carry a weapon was most certainly a rarity in the Land of Iron but must seem downright ludicrous in the ninja nations.

He brushed the thought aside as he made it to the training grounds. It was always something he wondered about, but was proven correct. Ninja and Samurai had very similar layouts when it comes down to their training ground designs. He noticed many pillars and a few obstacle courses spread about, but what caught his eye, was the blue haired man sitting on a pillar with a very large, bandaged object strapped to his back. Deciding to be polite, he slowly approached the man and introduced himself. "Ohayo, I am Akira Akashiya, are you a shinobi of the mist?" He had wondered about the man, assuming he was, but he could very well be another traveller merely stopped there to rest. Akira had never been out of the Land of Iron, so he didn't know of any real defining characteristics of mist ninja.

Akira sensed the man was now somewhat on edge given that he was in fact a stranger to this village. He supposed it was only common for those known to be as deceitful as shinobi would be on edge and untrusting of others whom they don't know. Akira would bow apologetically, "I am here simply on a vacation, travelling across the shinobi nations on a bit of a leave from the Land of Iron. I mean you no harm, and merely came here to check out the local training grounds. As a Samurai, it interested me to find out how ninja trained. Looking around it seems our fields at least are quite similar." Akira took one last look around him, viewing the training area. "Senjiro, was it? What is it like being a ninja? I have heard many stories of ninja, but I am afraid they may be biased towards the Samurai view that ninja are dishonorable. So, id like to get the first hand account from a ninja himself." It had always interested him to see how other people lived their life, and how their different circumstances turned them into totally different people. Every person in the world was unique in that no two people had the same life experiences, because no two people made all the same decisions or were born into the same circumstances.

Akira allowed a slight smile to grace his lips as the Shinobi came to even ground. Yes, this man seemed to be polite enough. He supposed not all samurai would show that courtesy either, it all just depended on the person. This is a lot like what the man was telling him now. Shinobi, like Samurai, were each unique in their own way and each held different things as honorable and courteous. Life as a Samurai? "It's good enough, there are hard times and good times around evenly. The Land of Iron is a beautiful country, especially if you don't mind the cold. The people are generally friendly, and since its a known neutral country, we have generally good political relations worldwide. As for my sword, well... I dont have one. Funny, i know. I am a Samurai who focuses mostly on hand to hand combat until I find a blade that suits my style. I'm sure I'll find one eventually, even if I must make it myself." It was one thing that was taught in the dojo that was useful and underappreciated, metal working and black smithing. Each graduated Samurai was capable of forging their own blade, with most being forged being what most would consider a master class blade. "Judging by that thing on your back, I'd peg you as a swordsman yourself?"

Akira listened as the man spoke, speaking of latent similarities between ninja and samurai. He realized there were probably more things that tied them together than that actually differentiated between them. Chuckling at his question about his taijutsu Akira simply shrugged, "I avoid fighting where I can, but i'm tougher than I look!" giving a mock hero pose, he would then go back to his relaxed stance. This conversation was going well and he may have found himself a friend in the mist. The way the man then spoke of his own blade, made it sound as though it was a living thing, he could respect that. It was always something special, the connection to your blade, that made you feel that it was a living, breathing part of your very soul. An extension of the body and mind, that is what a blade was. But, in the Land of Iron, it is taught that a blade is so much more, this man seemed to understand that. You don't choose a blade, a blade chooses you. "Well, probably explore the village a bit more before heading back to my hotel room. Perhaps i'll come here to do some training tomorrow, cant let myself get lax after all!" Chuckling he would wait for his compatriots response.