[i]Konohagakure[/i]

Outside the walls of the village in the cover of the forests a silent yet radiant fire burned in the heart of Shiro Makoto. The wind kicked up around the Blind Orchid Samurai, rustling leaves fluttering around his presence. He sat with legs crossed, arms folded on top of Tachiwaru Ametsuchi, eyes closed and body in perfect stillness, the vibrations of life flowing in and out of is breath. His peaceful meditation continued for hours without disturbance. The fire within burned fiercly as he maintained mental patience for the coming events tonight. This night was, after all, the reason he had been deployed to Konoha by the Sunagakure rebellion forces. 

Shiro had came to terms with his place in life. He was balanced in body and spirit, an inner peace presiding over his ego. The state of the world was the only thing imbalanced, though he knew things had to be the way they were. Complacent with playing the role he can, Shiro has resolved to pass the will of God down onto those who oppress the people of the earth. His divine judgement will bring about justice in the world, and those who oppose him are devils. The Empire brings about swift oppression to his people and expects the free souls to subject themselves to subordination under a self-righteous tyrant. Passionate flames like Shiro can't be blown out so easily. 

When the moment felt right Shiro grounded himself and rose from his meditative state. He sheathed Tachiwaru Ametsuchi and strapped it to his left hip, turning toward the village and slowly heading into town. Making his way through the crowd with his rice hat lowered to cover his eyes and nose, he passed by the homes of the citizens, heading toward the central district. He pondered the repercussions of tonights event and his role in such. The karmedic result of his participation was given particular thought. He tilted his head upwards, forehead facing the sky. He opened his eyes, each eyelid stricken through with a scar extending outward to the sides of his forehead and down to his cheeks, forming an X-marked wound across his face. The scar faded slightly from age but it was very obvious when not covered by his rice hat. On this quiet day an uncannily strong gust of wind blew through the street, Shiro's kimono flapping in the wind.

The smell of Konoha's famous Ichiraku ramen filled the nostrils of the blind old samurai. He inhaled the scent zealously, almost driven toward it. Though lacking in traditional visual sight, his heightened senses combined with the mental images from his third eye allowed him a unique method of navigation. He followed the trails of the scent not by taking the most direct route or the common paths but instead by wherever the scent was strongest. What was odd was the lack of people he could sense around him. The aroma drew his attention away from the matter. 

He dipped and ducked through shortcuts and alleyways, keeping his head low underneath his rice hat and darting about silently, eventually finding himself coming upon the back of the ramen shop from the left side. Coming to a slow trot his acute hearing could make out two male voices coming from the stand. 

'[i]Matsuka isn’t exactly the most tactical woman around. I apologize on her behalf for her needless panic but when you’re a rebel I guess all you can do is jump or be jumped.[/i]' Someone was speaking of the rebellion openly in public on a quiet day? They must have been a fool of sorts, or perhaps very brave. '[i]Takeo Watanabe: Jounin Commander of Konoha, and ‘Rebel’ Commander on top of that. Who might you be, young man?[/i]' Shiro came to a halt on the side of the building and allowed his presence to remain an anomoly as Takeo announced himself. The blind samurai understood why he was so open with his allegiance, the commander of Konoha's rebellion ought to have no fear in his own home, for if he could not find solace there, than where could he? His thoughts bounced off each other, trying to put together the situation at hand. He had his orders for sundown, but the commander of the rebellion was idly chatting about his identity and intentions to what was a total stranger at a ramen stand. '[i]My name is Ryozan Tanzo,[/i]' The young Jounin have a bit of background info on himself, finishing with his inner quarrel of the dividing pathway. It seemed almost everyone was torn by this war. It was this inner conflict that the Empress Shoko had inflicted on the five great nations which drove Shiro into action. 

In an instant the conversation shifted and a fierce judgment fell upon Ryozan. The Rebel Commander did not take kindly to this man's reputation it seemed. He demanded answers, an explanation for his actions and he did so with a forceful resonance that gave Shiro the same feeling as the oppression of the empire. No matter who this Ryozan was, he did not have to explain himself to anyone, especially to someone who fought for freedom. However his explanation was quite rash and compassionate toward his fellow humans. Shiro could not say he wouldn't have done the same in the young man's shoes, and to revoke his title in his home for acting as such was tyranny in the blind man's eyes. 

"Takeo Watanabe." Shiro pronounced his name with respect as he carefully took each step at his own gentle pace, coming around from the side of the ramen shop so that the rebel commander and the fence-sitter could see Shiro. "You may call me Ran, I am from Sunagakure's rebellion forces to aid you tonight. It is fortunate that I stumbled upon your presence here. My deepest apologies for rudely interrupting your conversation with this valiant young man." He spoke with a very joyous and humble tone. With his introduction over, Shiro sat down at the counter with his rice hat still covering the upper half of his face. There was no need for either of them to recognize him if either had caught word of his reputation, and it was enough for them to know that he was a rebel from Sunagakure. It seemed that if Takeo was willing to out his secret than the time truly was coming where the rebels were going to have their own stronghold in Konoha and Kirigakure. Perhaps this was a turning point in the struggle, and perhaps this was a pipedream and they were doomed to failure. 

He took a much more serene, genuine sounding tone as he interjected his opinion into their conversation, knowing full well that the strong-willed commander may accost him for putting his nose into their business, "You don't have to forgive me for putting my two cents in where it doesn't belong, but at the least I ask that you pardon this young man for his courage. In a world of distrust and illusion, to have such compassion for another human in pain and to put one's own life on the line to defend theirs... that is true bravery, and that is an honorable trait to have regardless of which side of the line he stands on." He did not look at either of the men when he spoke and simply looked down at the counter, though he spoke with a wise and withered tone. Knowing quite well of Takeo's authority Shiro did not seem at all pressured by his resounding presence. Shiro was not one to be intimidated by appearanced and big words, though there was certainly a high level of respect he held for Takeo.