En Route to Mizu.

He was late. "He" not referring to the Jigoku, but to the Uchiha sitting upon the base of the large rock. Kotesu had been here the whole time, his figure hiding within the murky shadows as if he, himself was one; he'd been busy watching everything within his view, and awaiting the arrival of his comrades.

It was only the feint sound of a "click" that made Kotesu reveal himself before his kin, the dull maroon hues of his own being slightly obscured by the porcelain mask upon his countenance. Similar to the garments placed upon Soratsu - Kotesu too would be dressed in the same manner, the only difference being that his cloak was of a brilliant ivory hue, instead of the dull ebony. A slight nod being given in the Uchiha's direction to make it aware that one of his own, was indeed behind the feline mask.

Much like Soratsu, the Jigoku had came well prepared for the situation - making sure not to tell a living soul about the mission, not even his family. Not a single person knew where he had gone, nor where he was planning to go; it was as if he never existed within the walls of Konohagakure. And though his face was hidden underneath the mask, joy had been plastered upon it from the mere thoughts of the mission.

They only needed one more piece of the puzzle to be complete.

He always remained punctual as the shadows spewed his visage into the summer light. Several footfalls--silent-- carried the young man towards the two who had stationed themselves at the rendezvous point. Though despite his seemingly perfect silence in movement, the Koizumi was well aware that his comrades were on to his advance; after all, he was never one to arrive late at anything he did in life; the earlier he made himself available, the sooner he could return to the undertakings he appreciated.

This, however, wouldn’t warrant any swifter of a return for their mission directives clearly pointed towards length. This couldn’t be rushed; every detail, each aspect and element of this mission would take precedence over anything Ryūza had going in. It was so demanding on his senses and sagacity that a warranted sensation of paranoia coated his frontal lobe. His parents, superiors and even his peers (save for the two in front of him) were all left in the dark, devoid of any knowledge to what Squad 00 had accepted under the direct order and confidence of the Hokage. They would leave not as Shinobi of the Hidden Leaf, but denizens of the world in whole. If they were to die, their bodies wouldn’t don the spiraling emblem of Konohagakure’s will; the only fortune that was likely would be cremation—the retention of honor through windswept ash.

His advance would soon die down towards the base of the large rock the Uchiha took to. From the depths of his dark-stained cloak, a single arm lifted casually. Armed to perfection hosting the tools and talents his being had to offer, Ryūza knew it was time to depart. As a result, the bend of his wrist signaled two fingers to following, illustrating the “move out” gesture, commonplace in the shinobi world for muted conversation and tactics.


From this point onward, they were enemies of the state. In a unique prospective, they had the freedom no other shinobi could possess and this alone would ensure victory. Kirigakure wouldn't know what would hit her.

Ryūza’s head tilted, recognizing the muffled voice of his comrade who called for them to break motion.

“I see.” the Chūnin could only agree, taking a kneeled position against the terra firma as the Uchiha began scripting possible tactics to use. The Koizumi was profoundly gifted in several avenues accessible to a shinobi, and strategizing was one of them. Lacking any Kekkei-Genkai to make him truly unique, the boy was dubbed a genius at an extremely young age, even placed on the echelons with others of promising clans. He knew how to operate under pressure and within combat situations, and Kotesu wasn’t one to take lightly either. Nonetheless, Soratsu was of an entirely new breed and whiel their minds hadn’t conflicted, Ryūza knew it would be problematical if they crossed in battle. He was of Uchiha Blood, and thus already an elite; the fact that he was actually intelligent only added to his level of virtuoso. The depths of his perception extended far beyond his eyes and a measurement for his tactical thought process hadn’t been developed yet.

Falling the carvings in the dark, Ryūza remained poised before his words broke silence. “Kotesu, arm some of your weapons with fake tags. I’ll inscribe them falsely. While it serves no real combat purpose, if an opponent mistook them for the actual thing, we could win the intellectual aspect of combat.” This was a strength that was seemingly loss in transition of ages; deception. It was easily to employ and very challenging to comprehend unless one had keen understanding of Fūinjutsu, or the eyes to clearly read an explosive note mid-flight. If Kotesu planned to have some tagged and others not, those few that would normally be naked could have a false cloak. It was that cloak that could easily lead to victory. If handed the kunai, the Chūnin would effortlessly falsifying shiki on tan parchment.

Preperations won the battle and Ryūza always aimed for checkmate. Once these minor issues were handled, the snow-haired shinobi would nod towards Soratsu and Kotesu, signaling his acquiescence with heading out.

Words dealing with tactics caught the ears of Kotesu, his body transitioning from its erecting form - to a more lesser state, in other words, he too kneeled down. Eyes of the maroon hue analyzed every aspect of the pictograph before them - from the line of position that needed to be taken, to the role each member of squad zero would play. It all had been completely banked within the Jigoku's mind, not a single detail was missed - nor, did he have any issue with the tactical approach being taken, except one thing - their names. It was being tossed back and forth without a care; and though, this was their side of the land - they needed to become familiar with new names. Names that were rather simple to remember, not complex or completely odd for the trio.

Before Soratsu would take the needed action to reach his full height, a sole digit would begin to work - writing over the three figures that were suppose to be them. Over the Koizumi's figure would read Ichi, the Uchiha's would read Ni - and the Jigoku's would read San. Three basic numbers taught to them when they were just children, would now play a major role within their difficult mission as men.


"Ichi, Ni, San. That is our names from now on, nothing less - nothing more."

With that said he too would erect to his full height, rubbing his fingers together to remove the dirt obtained. And when he thought that was the end of their little meeting; Ichi would begin to speak - his words quite appealing to the ears of San. A slight nod would be given to make it aware that the idea was indeed acknowledged, slender digits quickly taking hold of the kunai as he displayed before his kin. Maroon eyes trailing off to the frame of Ni, would easily take note of his lack of weaponry, for not a single bulged was located on him - causing quiet the sigh of annoyance underneath the mask.


"Ni take two of my kunai, and two of these as well. Ichi, do as you must."

Within his grasp would be two exploding notes, their ivory features awaiting a claim. When everything had been set and no longer was a discussion needed, the Jigoku would ready himself to depart. He would be lying if he said this wasn't exciting, but it was the fact of death knocking on his squad's door that troubled him. Returning back to home, to Konohagakure, whole - would be an accomplishment within itself. Nonetheless, he began to move forth  from his location.