The youth had a penchant for poking his nose into things that weren't his business. It was one of his many talents. If he was a superhero, he would have been the Long-Nose-Man, poking his thing everywhere. I digress. The youth liked visiting the town gates. It allowed him to nurture the idea that one day he might go back to the Snow Country, where he belonged and where his home was... or maybe it was no longer there. His place had been by his mother, but she was dead now, and his father was no good. Typical really - a cliché story, but it was his story. And he didn't know where it was going.

Some days, he liked to watch the people coming in and leaving. Guess at the stories they could tell. Where they were from? The places they had been to. The things they have seen. The people they had met; the people who they had known, who have passed away. What skills they possessed and how they utilised them? Foreign shinobi were fascinating. They had abilities that he did not; that none in Kumo possessed. Some of them dressed funny, talked differently, carried themselves oddly; they had gear that he couldn't imagine using himself nor could he fathom the workings of. They had agendas, curious perhaps dangerous personalities, beliefs that he didn't espouse; did they know Raijin? They were all so... fascinating.

Today was no different. The boy saw a young woman approach the guards - though she was dressed like a civilian, there was something off about her; the way she carried herself, with a deadly, experienced confidence, put him on edge. Maybe it was the presence of a large chakra presence - hers - that made him weary. She seemed menacing despite her lean frame and a visual lack of any weapon or shinobi kit. She was only a little bit older than him, and yet, the boy couldn't help but admit that she seemed the deadlier of the two.

The girl was told to wait, or so the boy inferred from the body language of the guards and the girl. Good. It gave him time to "rough her up" a bit, if one could call it that. She wore a headband around her neck that identified her clearly. It was a good starting point. The boy b-lined for the woman, stopping a few steps away. The guards paid him no attention. They knew he was one of their own, as he hung around the gates frequently, and had a belt buckle to show off where his loyalties lay.  

"Hello stranger-lady-san" he began, his childish voice... sounding especially childish today; if one didn't know any better, they might think he was making fun of her. "What brings you to our wonderful town?" he asked, his tone articulating innocent curiosity. His eyes watched the girl carefully, as his lips held onto a short smile. Norio was looking down for the moment because she was sat down, but he knew, with some regret, that the moment she stood up, this would change. He would have to look up again, because she was considerably taller than him and he was rather a small boy for his age. He was getting used to meeting people who towered over him. It was rather unfortunate, and annoyed him to no end.

The boy couldn't help but see himself as a filler, a distraction before the main event. He stuck around the stranger-woman, asking her questions and offering minimalistic answers to her queries, inquiring about Konohan culture, traditions, politics, prominent shinobi; he poked wherever he could, but the girl was very adept at avoiding telling him anything important. If it wasn't clear immediately, the girl would realise that the boy had no power to let her through the gates. Instead, whether she liked it or not, he was keeping her company, occupying her time with small talk; though he personally found it to be an interesting passing of his time. Due to his curious inclination towards her and, more widely, her village, the boy came off as a rather inquisitive albit young man. His age and height made him seem innocent and naive - adventure hungry even - which presumably stopped her from dismissing him or outright telling him to f-off and leave her alone.

The woman had introduced herself as Wakizashi, Meiko - the boy responded with the fake, on the spot, made up name of Hojo, Setsu. He didn't like the idea of giving away his real name to someone foreign; not like she would remember him anyway. This Meiko told him she was waiting for a friend - some woman named Mana, who was presumably another Konoha shinobi. The lady told him this Mana was quite well known - that she would be surprised if Norio, no, Setsu didn't know her or hadn't heard of. He hadn't. This wasn't very unusual. The boy was an introvert at most times, and in the rare moment when he did come out from the comforts and safety of his family home, his ear wasn't always close to the ground.

The small talk dragged on. The boy felt compelled to keep this Meiko company until Mana showed up. Why, he wasn't particularly sure. Maybe he wanted to find out just who this Mana was, or even if she was real, or if this was a poor excuse for Meiko to enter a village. If such was the case, and this intrigue was discovered, then a struggle would surely ensure and the boy would gladly stick around to watch - heck, maybe even participate in that.

But no such thing happened. Instead Meiko's words dispersed his wild fantasies, and he turned around to see who just was Mana... his eyes looked as hard as they could, trying to see what was special... but minus the odd outfit that the woman (or rather, girl) was wearing, she seemed pretty normal. The top-hat adorning her head was however outright silly. Was she really a foreign shinobi? She seemed one of the least threatening people he had ever met.

The boy was sidelined for the moment, as the two exchanged words and gestures that told him they were close. The things they discussed caught his ears, but he reserved his questions for later. Daiymo? Parabrahama? Oh and passport? What was that?

"Hi, I'm Setsu" the boy replied simply, listening quietly to the onslaught of information this stranger-Mana-girl released on him. Again, Daiymo and Parabrahama came up. What was this about an attack? How was it that this non-threatening stranger from a foreign land knew more than he did about the state of affairs of his own country... well, his father's.

"You want to be a hero?" the boy asked, feeling like he didn't belong in this situation - clearly being more out of place and in the wrong time, than ever before. Still, he was here now and had to make the best of it. Allowing himself to be completely sidelined by these strangers, discussing affairs that should have been internal and guarded, worried him deeply.  

"Heroes aren't real" the boy stated with a surprising conviction. "It would be wiser to tackle this problem you are discussing in large numbers. No need for single acts of heroism" he offered his advice, though his short stature and youth were two very clear reasons as to why he should not be listened to. Regardless if it was sound advice or not.

The boy scoffed at the idiocies he was hearing. Who were these two? So blind, so embarrassingly idealistic and irrational. WRONG! Plain wrong. A single mother working two jobs? What sort of textbook example was that? And why would she have multiple children, when clearly she cannot support one of them via reasonable means? Was her stupidity to be revered? Cherished or praised? No. Don't have children if you can't support them. Norio's mother should have known better too...

And shinboi dying for those they love? What sort of heroism is that? It would be more merciful to die together with those they loved, rather than leave them on this earth, to forever remember the debt they owed, which would continue to burden them till the end of their existence. If these "shinobi" were real heroes, they wouldn't have died. They would have fought and outlived whatever this adversity was, that was thrown before them. These "heroes" were weak, and death found them, and took them in, as was its right and as was proper. There was no place for the weak among the title of "heroes", but maybe that was the whole point. The boy mused the question silently. Maybe heroes were simply people who were remembered for their moments of weakness or stupidity; celebrated for their vanity and arrogance. A self-proclaimed serial last line of defence? This Mana girl fitted the role of a hero perfectly.

"I wouldn't judge the strength of another village so precariously, little girl" the boy barked, a small dog trying to seem important. But perhaps there was some truth to it. Whatever her rank or her accomplishments, she couldn't have been much older than him. Sure, she might have had countless experiences that had made her more perceptive to the workings of the world, but still, she was a teenager... True wisdom was still far from her reach. "I don't care much of what you think about the village, but declaring and discussing its weakness loudly is like shouting a challenge at the top of the mountain" he told them, before adding "And you're literally at the top of a mountain"  

He smiled at his own private joke, his clever eyes lingering on the cliff where the first stranger-girl had sat before. It seemed the two were ready to leave, and so was he.

"Good luck with your venture. Guess I'll read about it someday, Miss Hero-san" and with that, words lashed out by a tongue coated by the juiciest sarcasm he could muster, the boy left.
He would walk back into the comforts of his home, which was free of foreigners with foolish ideas and feelings of self-grandeur.

Heroes... psh. Stupid.   [Exit]