Kazuki's Funeral

Kurasuke: Today was a melancholic day to say the least, it was within the early afternoon that Tsubasa walked in alone with his head down and sat alone in the funeral home. The young man was a bit earlier than was initially allowed for this process, today people would gather here to remember in tribute of a young shinobi who had recently passed away. The dreary room didn’t do much to hold the atmosphere to any standard, given the lights had not been cued and make everything look just a little brighter to the people who otherwise felt darkness deep within their hearts. Tsubasa’s vibrant green eyes looked about the room as he took it all in. The room to which all of this was set up was a moderately sized one, enough to hold a whole family if needed but even the boy who died, Kazuki, had nothing of the like so there would only be his comrades and the individuals tied in with the strange community that was this little group of shinobi who strangely had each other’s lives intertwined with one another in direct and some otherwise. Its wooden walls and rows of benches took on a rather dull appearance, and nothing too elaborate in their design yet enough to show some respect to the dearly departed. Great windows, like those of churches, show muddled views of the world through a deception of colors. It was unfortunate that the sun was not out today, and took on dark clouds instead to show and even gloomier world outside of this funeral home. Today was not a day of victory, nor was it one for other’s to relax. This was a strict and harsh reminder of what a shinobi’s life was truly like, one constantly in peril as they fought the faces of evil to insure justice and greatness to the innocent who could not defend themselves. Rising a little too quickly, Tsubasa’s green eyes flitted over to the entrance and sat by it. Despite the fact this was a place of respect, Tsubasa was absolutely furious with the man who had sent the boy on an S-rank mission… it was almost like sending them off to death. Even the surviving member was not in good condition from it all, and was supposed to be coming here despite the scar this perhaps left on him. Lagi was perhaps infamous now within the shinobi community, no one in their right mind should have done what he did, yet he did it anyway. That wasn’t even to say his already muddle background, overall he wasn’t exactly a likeable character and if not it was apparent now given his irresponsible actions. It was a drunken rage that came from such obvious mistakes of people that it almost overwhelmed Tsubasa as he stood there, his hand clenching the bench he had risen from with his face draining of what color it had as he assumed a cold face. A man with a moral to smite and strike down the immorality of this world, he now thought of such violent thoughts to completely kill off the vesper who had nearly killed off the remaining boy, Garric, and taking a life with them. But not before he was to show this stubborn man the err of his actions.

Keruberosu: Kurasuke: Today was a melancholic day to say the least, it was within the early afternoon that Tsubasa walked in alone with his head down and sat alone in the funeral home. The young man was a bit earlier than was initially allowed for this process, today people would gather here to remember in tribute of a young shinobi who had recently passed away. The dreary room didn’t do much to hold the atmosphere to any standard, given the lights had not been cued and make everything look just a little brighter to the people who otherwise felt darkness deep within their hearts. Tsubasa’s vibrant green eyes looked about the room as he took it all in. The room to which all of this was set up was a moderately sized one, enough to hold a whole family if needed but even the boy who died, Kazuki, had nothing of the like so there would only be his comrades and the individuals tied in with the strange community that was this little group of shinobi who strangely had each other’s lives intertwined with one another in direct and some otherwise. Its wooden walls and rows of benches took on a rather dull appearance, and nothing too elaborate in their design yet enough to show some respect to the dearly departed. Great windows, like those of churches, show muddled views of the world through a deception of colors. It was unfortunate that the sun was not out today, and took on dark clouds instead to show and even gloomier world outside of this funeral home. Today was not a day of victory, nor was it one for other’s to relax. This was a strict and harsh reminder of what a shinobi’s life was truly like, one constantly in peril as they fought the faces of evil to insure justice and greatness to the innocent who could not defend themselves. Rising a little too quickly, Tsubasa’s green eyes flitted over to the entrance and sat by it. Despite the fact this was a place of respect, Tsubasa was absolutely furious with the man who had sent the boy on an S-rank mission… it was almost like sending them off to death. Even the surviving member was not in good condition from it all, and was supposed to be coming here despite the scar this perhaps left on him. Lagi was perhaps infamous now within the shinobi community, no one in their right mind should have done what he did, yet he did it anyway. That wasn’t even to say his already muddle background, overall he wasn’t exactly a likeable character and if not it was apparent now given his irresponsible actions. It was a drunken rage that came from such obvious mistakes of people that it almost overwhelmed Tsubasa as he stood there, his hand clenching the bench he had risen from with his face draining of what color it had as he assumed a cold face. A man with a moral to smite and strike down the immorality of this world, he now thought of such violent thoughts to completely kill off the vesper who had nearly killed off the remaining boy, Garric, and taking a life with them. But not before he was to show this stubborn man the err of his actions.

DivineZiel: -The day around Konoha..wasn't as bright as it usually was. This very day had a good amount of people down in the depths of their minds, or at least the ones that respected Shinobi and Kunoichi alike. From there, Nōzan Chinmoku, a Chunin of that very village that was saddened for the newly lost was standing outside in the gloomy weather, wearing his usual black attire however, instead of a vest around his shoulders, he wore a long black cloak that stayed open in the front. The crow colored locks of decent length swung around from a cold breeze that circled the air on this day. Lifting his head up to the sky while he looked into the dark clouds with his left eye, it began to tear up slightly in the remembrance of a rather good friend of his from the academy and genin years he spent in the village..his name was Kazuki Uzumaki and he was one that was until their Chunin years rolled around and they both lost contact with each other. The smile Kazuki shared with the village was all that popped into his head at that moment. At that time, a single raindrop fell down onto the area under his eye while he lowered his head. It began to rain a slight amount for the time being as Nōzan himself lowered his head after closing his eye and let a single tear trail down his face, only to soak into the mask. Looking forward, he kept his strength even in the sad times, because he had something to do. Walking forth towards the hospital rather slowly since he didn't want to rush anything due to the depressed state he was in. After a good twenty minute walk, the rain had picked up as he reached the hospital. Each and every drop beating on the buildings just like it always did but..this just added to the factor of a Shinobi dying. Standing in front of the hospital for five minutes as he stared at the doors, not wanting to confront Garric since he was with him on the mission. Nōzan swallowed some left over saliva in his mouth as he then walked towards the doors and pushed them open only to have a nurse come up to him and ask in a sad state "You're here for Garric, aren't you?" Nōzan nodded without saying a word as the nurse began to escort him to the room where he was being held in. Walking in, he'd stay silent as the nurse let them be. Standing there with nothing to say, it looked as if he was as ready as he could be for such. The damage done to his body was enough to strike something in the back of Nōzan's mind but held back since he didn't want to bring anything up for the time being. Stepping closer to Garric, he'd then say "Come on.." Helping Garric up, he kept him close as he helped him walk, slowly but surely towards the exit of the hospital. A nurse came over while he opened the door however, ended up helping Nōzan with Garric for a split second as he remembered the rain after seeing it. Taking off his cloak, he put it over Garric's shoulders, letting it hang on him, to at least keep his body from becoming wet. Leaving the hospital, Nōzan knew that Garric would've just wanted to keep at least a bit of strength to walk towards such an event that was being held for Kazuki. After some time, more than likely after everyone else due to the slow pace they were going at, they'd make it to the funeral home. Looking at the people whom came to give their respects to the young, lost soul, Nōzan helped Garric inside and helped him to where he wanted to be. Once he did so, Nōzan took a few steps back and merely stood next to and behind Garric, not wanting to fully leave his side however, he was known not to be around for funerals after what happened three years ago. Taking a firm stance as he was soaked from head to toe from the water falling from the crying clouds that covered Konoha..he stood there, for Garric.-

Yuya: A funeral had been announced within the village. A boy that she had never interacted with was killed in action while taking on an S-rank mission. First, it irritated her that someone had allowed a Chunin to participate in such a risky mission. In a way it felt like poor parenting and irresponsibility. For a slight moment, Hitona’s mind wondered if the village truly cared about their shinobi at all. Maybe they were simply soldiers trained to die and win for the higher ups, easily replaced like livestock. Out of courtesy, she decided to attend the funeral and took her medication-- which kept her calm so that she would not behave inappropriately during the ceremony. It was an early afternoon, and a lone boy wandered the streets of the neighborhood ringing a chime. Within her neighborhood, the different tones of the chimes represented events. Today’s was a tranquil and melancholic jingle, weak and almost quiet like a whisper. With the heavy respectful silence in the air, the tune was audible to everyone in the neighborhood. The community is known for their virtuous and kind attitude, so a handful of people prepared for the funeral to pay their respects. A young, aspiring individual striving to climb up the ranks in order to serve and protect, killed on the line of duty. Hitona is among the group of people. She wanted to see the face of the boy who was killed, to see how young he was and whether he was someone she knew from her class or from another generation. There was utter silence in her household, and her mother had sent one of their maids home for the day in order to mourn. Hitona watched her mother and father as they began slipping into their sandals. She was unsure as to whether or not she should be speaking or asking questions. After all she had never attended a funeral because nobody close to her, or even a relative had died recently. The relatives had died long before she was born. Her parents both carried a box of tissues for those who may need it at the funeral. Hitona wore a black skin-tight turtleneck with a pair of black dress pants and sandals, her mother and father wore the typical black suit and black dress with a veil. As the three departed to join a small herd of her neighbors, wearing black and white. One of them carried a picture frame of the boy, and was possibly a friend of his. Whoever they are, Hitona stayed quiet like a child around strangers. Hugging their mother’s skirt as she peered from behind, but of course Hitona was too tall and grown to be doing that. Instead she stayed behind her parents, her mother dabbing a tear with her daintily gloved hands gripping the life out of a tissue. Once the herd had arrived to the funeral home, there was probably no room for everyone. Therefore many stood outside the building and hung their heads with their eyelids lowered. They waited for the ringing of a bell or possibly the cries of the boy’s loved ones. Everything was utterly quiet except for a few sniffles and muffled cries behind handkerchiefs. Hitona looked up into the clouds which blocked out the sun. Its warmth gone, basking the mourners in nothing but the coldness of the environment and how dark everything was. A small percentage of the herd entered the building, one of which was Hitona and her parents. Upon entering, she examined the funeral home. Gloomy, dark, and heavy. She had never been to such an odd looking building, so the colorful windows confused her. Just as she was about to boldly comment on how inappropriate the windows were, her mother had grabbed her and sat her down on one of the worn out dull benches. It creaked as all three of them sat down. There were a few seats empty, so some of the herd members managed to step inside for a seat and to be present at the ceremony. After a while the rest of them just stood around the funeral home. Children leaned against their mothers whining about wanting to go home, oblivious to the whole ordeal. Some were quiet, clutching their parents’ hands as if they saw death all too often.

Raibu: Tsuyoshi sat on the couch in his den, staring up at the ceiling. Today was a rather depressing day, with the announcement that a young shinobi had fallen in the line of duty. Tsuyoshi picked up his pipe from a nearby table along with a match. He struck the match on the side of the table and lit his pipe. He took one short draw from the pipe, and exhaled the smoke. Tsuyoshi had only encountered the deceased once, although it was on much happier circumstances. He had mistakenly referred to him as “Orange haired one.” when his hair had been red. Tsuyoshi took another drag from his pipe and proceeded to stand up. He winced slightly in pain, and hobbled over to his crutch. He held his pipe tightly in his mouth as he swung his crutch under his arm, and proceeded to leave his house. Upon leaving the house, there was a light drizzle. So cliche for a time like this. Tsuyoshi hobbled down the street, passing several bystanders on the way. Rather than the normal upbeat, happy attitude of the village, everything was rather dreary, and gray looking. Tsuyoshi hung his head down and sighed. Although he had hardly known the kid, he still felt a small amount of grief for the loss. Kazuki had been rather young, but yet was tasked with the responsibility of such a high risk mission. Tsuyoshi was soon nearing the funeral home, and a certain sadness continued to hang over him. Tsuyoshi snuffed out the burning tobacco in his pipe, and proceeded inside the funeral home. He was met with a large turnout of people, but an unsettling silence for such a large gathering. Tsuyoshi decided to hang in the back, allowing the people who had known Kazuki to pay their respects.

JaeAre: Yuri would finish getting ready for the funeral of the boy he barely knew, but his younger brother Garric knew all too well. He would be sitting by the kitchen window watching the dark clouds roll in as if the sky was in mourning about the youth named Kazuki Uzumaki's early departure from the world. Yuri would stare out the window at the sky as if he were in some sort of trance or disbelief, who would send such a young shinobi on a S-rank mission? Why not find two other jonin to accompany you? Yuri was still scatter brained and pissed off about the situation, mainly because his younger brother was barely saved and could have easily suffered the same fate if not for intervention. The thought of his brother laid up in a hospital and almost being killed himself sent Yuri into a small rage as he slammed his fist into the kitchen table letting off a loud thud, thus taking him from his trance like state. Hearing this his mother would walk in the kitchen's walkway to see what the commotion was about. "Are you ok sweetie? I think you should probably get going you still have to pick up Garric and be on time for the funeral, it is very important to your little brother" his mother would say in her soft nurturing voice as she put her hand on his shoulder. "I know, just... still furious about the incident mother. I'm gonna get going, I will be back later." Yuri would say to his mother in low slightly depressed tone as he got up from the chair and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. Yuri would make his way to the front door and down the steps, making his way to the hospital to escort his younger brother Garric to the funeral of his teammate and friend Kazuki. Yuri would walk at a medium pace to make up for wasted time earlier or they would be late. Walking through the main street of Konoha towards the hospital Yuri would ponder many things on his mind like his brother's life, saying to himself "If it means giving mine he will not die, I will protect him until I breathe my last breathe." as the thought of his brother brought a single tear down his cheek as he closed his eyes trying to block the thought out, as he kept walking on. About three minutes later he had finally made it to the hospital's entrance, but he wouldn't even go in as he was met by what seemed to be a nurse at the double doors "Your brother has already been picked up sir, a young man wearing a black mask has escorted him to the funeral home." she would explain to him. Yuri would just nod and say "Thank you for the information, it is appreciated." Yuri would turn around from the hospital doors and look up at the sky as the clouds darkened and the faint sound of thunder crashing in the distance set the mood, depressing to say the least. Two steps from under the awning of the hospital the rain began to lightly fall leaving small beads of water on Yuri's shirt, but the rain was the least of his concern as he wanted to see brother. "Maybe it is best I didn't take him, he is probably emotionally unstable and my worry and emotion would just probably make him worse" He would think to himself as he kept walking on the empty street that lead to the funeral home. Five minutes later he would finally arrive at the funeral home, walking up the steps and through the door. The scene was dark and gloomy as if a depression had taken over the place, this was a funeral home it was meant for it to feel this way, but something made a deeper depression take over the whole room where everyone had gathered. Children clinging to their parents crying their eye's out, many with their heads dropped down in disbelief, and in the front of the room stood Garric. Yuri would walk through the large crowd of people gathered nodding his head at many he recognized, until he was a few steps behind Garric noticing a young man wearing a black mask. This reminded him of what the nurse had said, putting his hand on the left shoulder of the young man "Thank you for bringing my brother" in a whisper like tone bowing his head slightly to show his gratitude before he would approach his brother. Yuri would approach Garric in the same fashion putting his left arm around his neck and firmly placing his hand on Garric's left shoulder holding him close, reminding himself that Garric could be the one in the casket. The thought brought a few tears down his cheeks, but he would stand strong for his brother staying silent as he could not even imagine the emotions his brother had to have building inside seeing his friend and squad mate lay motionless and cold. Yuri would just stand silent with his brother as they wait to pay his respects to the young shinobi at the given time.

BaransuKenzai: Lagi had left the training ground hours ago his footsteps faint and slow as the sky grew dark he found himself met with one of the village’s messenger birds. It carried a small paper note that simply read, “In the wake of your squad finishing their mission. The member known as Kazuki Uzumaki perished in the field.” Lagi hadn’t bothered to show much sympathy it was best he didn’t. He thought surely he had died in honorable manner but that was to be left for his deduction; when he eventually met with Garric to discuss the things that had gone wrong. In passing those darkened clouds that rested over head began to open up. Lagi eventually made his to the monument built to honor the village’s fallen shinobi. He soon placed his hand on its marble surface passing it over the individual names that had been etched. It was like the rain was a symphony from God himself; each drop symbolizing a single note strummed from the threads of fate. Kazuki’s song coming to end much quicker than any shinobi could have possibly deserved. It was if that same cruel song fate had deemed him came to an end and with that villages bliss followed suit. Those that bothered to attend the funeral were met with tears and churning stomachs. The young mans parents weren’t anywhere to be seen either it was as if they had forgotten their own flesh and blood. It almost made Lagi sick to his stomach to think someone’s child was sent to fight for their country with their parents to show no remorse in his passing. When the patter of the drops tumbles from grey skies the melody brings serenity no matter the chaos in ones life. Rain. Blessed rain. The rain fell as if it was meant to wash away everyone’s sorrow. The rain cascaded over his skin with little hesitation his heart farm from broken only stronger for his mistakes. Those of which would never be made again his teeth barred as he simply stood in place to give his condolences to Kazuki. In time Kazuki would be remember and possibly a role model to the young. Those who attended the funeral were drenched an intense anxiety, the heavens weeping for those who did not. Some fearful of the rage that followed some left broken a beaten emotionally as well as mentally. If he should die, and we should live, and time should gurgle on, and morn should beam, and time should burn, as it usually does; One might depart at option from success alone. It makes his parting tranquil and keeps their souls serene. That angel of death tasked with lighting the way for his departed soul, bound by nothing, forever searching.

Kurasuke: Everyone had arrived, and with all coming on such short notice before the scheduled time; the room would remain dark and melancholic for a near half hour before the director came in. Obviously knowing the situation was to be horrid if this continued on any longer, he spoke aloud, “I apologize, everyone, we weren’t expecting such a… tremendous following to come so quickly and a bit sooner than planned. I’ll get everything going and leave you all in peace, I hope the best for you and hope that Kazuki here will be able to be soothed by your prayers to him.” On that note, the director left the scene before bright lights came to and made the place a little bit better. From an old an even outdated machine, a tune began to softly sound throughout the parlor. Most would only stay for moments, some longer than others, and others… maybe even the whole night. As time would pass, other began to make their way from the scene and make for bed. While the procession itself would slowly die out, the memory and the cause of this remained fresh within the minds of the people who arrived. Some prayed to their gods, others simply sat in silence for their own reasons. They all, perhaps, confided to some sort of inner thought of theirs that this lost soul should not be burdened anymore. Others moved on, some to become greater people as they became more conscious of their actions as shinobi. This leaf had fallen too early… but perhaps, with stronger and wiser leaves: It would turn that Kazuki’s own death was not to be in vain. Accidents like these paved no ways to new policies, and would ensure safer lives for newer generations so that never such a devastating mistake could not be made on younger lives… Rest in peace, Kazuki Uzumaki…
Kurasuke: ((Hey there, Shima.))