Niiro Kaze: Uzumaki Naruto.

Author's Drunken Rambling: This chapter is short. It's shorter than Naruto before the Land of Waves. I'm a lazy bastard when it comes to writing. My apologies. But not terribly earnest apologies. This is, after all, a voluntary hobby. And naught more.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, if I did, alot of so called 'people' in positions of politcal power would have been deposed long ago. But anybody with their own personal mystical one-man-ninja-army would do the same, ne?

"Hey, isn't that a..?"

"No way, they're rare these days..."

"Doesn't the Daimyo..?"

"What is one of them ...?"

The words of the commons along the main road inside Konohagakure were not lost upon him, he had, after all, been informed that he would likely meet against ancient, and misinformed predjudices due to what he was. The Council had spoken at length about the image Shinobi tended to hold of their ways.

But he hadn't been deterred. After all, this was part of his duty, his assignment. What he did here would likely have great effect upon the multi-pronged plan to save their stagnating and swiftly-fading way of life. Tradition had kept their predecessors bound to the acient, restrictive codes. In the face of the changing world this inability to change with it had led to their decline. The Shinobi had long been the major military force within the Lands, their own fall from that position had been centuries ago, now.

One might think that he would be annoyed. None of the voices were laced with awe, or even respect. There was, perhaps, caution. And there were certainly whispers of fear. For some reason, he couldn't truely blame them. After all, what had once been a title to be claimed only by those with honor, with discipline, with a sense of duty greater than the self.. had become another word for 'thug with a katana'.

It was singularly frustrating. He meant these people no harm, he offered them no violence, no disrespect. Yet despite the fact that he kept himself composed and dignified even in the face of their prejudice still mothers pulled their children closer. As if at any moment he might begin a vicious assault upon innocents.

The attitude disgusted him. Not for the reasons one might think, either. But the result of that disgust was that he pulled all the closer in on himself. Wrapping pride and dignity about like thick armor plating. Chin held high even as deep, electric blue gaze remained firmly upon his destination on the Horizon. The Hokage's tower.

He'd waited a long time for this.

"Target approaching market sector three. Confirm line of sight."

"Confirmed. Target remaining upon preagreed route. No signs of hostility."

"Continue observation. Maintain distance and stealth."

"Affirmative."

Certainly, they were watching him. He was sure of that. He wasn't quite sure where, or how. But he knew they would be. Shinobi were cautious creatures. Patient and calculating, he had to respect the level of a dedication a professional, experienced shinobi could lend to his or her craft. Still, it set the hairs on the back of his neck to prickling. All that focused attention, the scrutinization was not something any trained warrior could ignore, and the idea of having potential combatants and foes watching his every move made something inside of him tense.

But he rarely listened to that part, it wanted naught but to lead him astray. Away from the path of honor.

"Why haven't the ANBU apprehended him yet? They're not allowed in our village!"

"Maybe he's a representative?"

"No way, he's too young for that. Their kind is even more restrictive than Ninja."

"Murderous bastards hiding behind a guise of self control, you mean..."

Sometimes, having heightened senses sucked. He really rather would have been ignorant of that particular conversation. Once again, the civilian's ignorance set his teeth to grinding. But still he soldiered on, continuing forward, then left.. and forward for some time after. Wooden sandals, Geta, clipped and clacked against the walkways of Konohagakure. But the unrelenting stares, the fixated dislike and even restrained agression still had him on edge. Without even thinking one hand had fallen to rest upon the pommel of the blade hanging at his waist.

Maybe that wasn't the smartest move, instantly he felt the focused attention of his silent pursuers shift from intent observation to readied-for-violence. As if he would lower himself to dirtying his blade with the blood of noncombatants. Had the world's view of his kind truely fallen so far? Well then, he'd just have to prove them all wrong. Sooner or later, they would acknowledge their mistake. Recognize their misconceptions and then..

Then, maybe, his dream.

He almost missed a turn, having lost himself in pleasant thoughts. Fantasies held deep within his heart. He had to stop and mentally go over the rigorously studied mental image of the map and path that would lead him through Konoha's winding, labrynthine streets to the Hokage's tower.

He didn't let himself think about what would come at the end of his journey. It would be a bad idea to lose his cool now. Especially after he had worked so hard to gather his composure in the first place. All this silence was not his natural state, and the urge to loudly denounce the ideals he could oft see behind viewer's eyes grew with each passing moment.

Mental map run over once again, he found the right path and resumed his journey.

"Unplanned halt. Target is deviating."

"Hold. Observe. He might just be lost."

"Should we reposition Encounter One? "

"Mayb--.."

"Target returning to preplanned route."

"Good. Continue shadowing him. "

"Affirmative."

"Remember; intervene only if violence is imminent. The Hokage wants to see how he'll handle the villagers."