NPCs for Era of Hurricanes

The sigh he wants to let out would not vent even an eighth of the frustration. Why Did He Do That? It's already thin ice that they're treading, but recklessly curating his "art" has resulted in another set of eyes on them. Another challenge where they couldn't even handle the first.

Their previous guide was it?

"Are we not meant to simply accomplish our mission? Whatever means we do so by - that doesn't matter, does it?" He really would rather not, but that is all they need to do right?

Itachi's eyes flicker to the beads of the staff before quickly locking in onto Suteki's own. There are no hard feelings here.

This is simply a means of escape.

The space is easier to read now, easier to break. The trouble he could cause with even just the slightest effort would leave a devastating mark, but that is not the mission, is it? "I also only recall there being one proctor. Is two not also against the spirit of this?" Not that he cares.

For a moment the exit, one of his own making, is within his grasp but he pauses and sighs through his nose. "The cavern, you wouldn't have allowed the Hokage to perish, would you?"

"Unless your eyes didn't pick that part out. Your buddy blew up a wall."

He'd heard about the Sharingan, in the same way that anyone in the world had heard of the Sharingan, but while Suteki was plenty confident in his own abilities, he wasn't stupid. Eyes weren't the only trigger, but obviously you avoid those - you avoid hand gestures, like the one that he had flicked onto everyone in the first trial, and you keep your feet rooted in reality.

Or you shake up what reality meant, and jimmy that to the side.

If he wanted a break, he could have one.

It wasn't a bunshin then, nor a kagebunshin double, but Suteki allowed for the warp from Itachi's attempt at transfixing him turn the world sideways and to splinter his image into dozens, hundreds, thousands, stalking just out of sightline, just beyond the horizon, just over the Uchiha's shoulder in broken and warped images.

"You so bothered by a two on two? Fairness ain't something you hear following your name. Like you ain't never seen an exam have two proctors before." A scoff, echoed and folded in on itself like a multilayered knife that tremored the ground.

"Who's ever perished from a genjutsu before?"

"Katsu!"

The explosion is brief, destructive, and, in Deidara's mind, beautiful. His scroll's light flares — he opens it with a proud grin on his face, only to see a message that is not one of victory.

You want to be rid of me so badly? The feeling's mutual.

She couldn't see them, but a please could help her there, too.

He'd have kept watch even if Komorebi hadn't asked him - three Akatsuki members was fucking nuts, and they just kept finding each other, but at the very least the last two hadn't attempted to tear down Seiryuu's cavern with everyone still in it.

Typical Iwa bullshit, actually.

The academy's structure wasn't what he was used to, but busting in wasn't quite the same task as busting out, and Suteki gave himself a running jump from the rooftop he'd been awaiting on, channeling the chakra into his legs for greater height and to allow his body to become the needle that punctured the structure, dropping to a weightless stop as he felt the chakra signatures he needed -

And, well, saw the big fucking smoking hole in the wall.

"Gents," he greeted, cocking his head as his fingers wrapped around his staff, the beads tinkling gently in the quiet of the night. "Can't believe I gotta come in and warn you from causing a ruckus, but I don't think you're quite following the spirit of this exam."

... How right they were. "Rumour has it that you have more to worry about me, they say Konoha's most infamous crow has come to roost." It is, of course, a rather open secret, yet the age-old idiom of keeping your enemies closer rings true as they begin to circle each other. "An Inuzuka told me that once, before they added me to the Bingo Book of Kirigakure, it still sounds so amusing, especially coming from you."

The movement in the frostkissed grace leaves a noticeable pattern, and yet he isn't quite prepared to cease just yet, knowing far too well to let his guard down even now is to invite injury or worse from one that has the same experience he does. "I remember now, you're a sensor type aren't you, tell me Proctor-San, is my chakra still that tinted with that sunny orange, or has it all receded to murky purple again?"

But she huffs a laugh, because she has a poker face, too.

"I'm not so old that I need you worrying about me." She nods toward the building, where her bunshin continue to weave their web. "We've got that all well in hand, same as with the other trouble-makers."

Komorebi doesn't need to face him to see him, but she does anyway as they continue their dance. She hopes the sight of her Kirigakure insignia where her eyes should be unsettles him, now that her home has been mentioned.

Childish, she knows. But spite is something she's never grown out of.

When she speaks, her tone is as flat as ever, because one of them is going to be a professional about this.

"This isn't about Higanbana."

She takes a step closer, her silver-streaked hair throwing off the light.

"This is about you making a mockery of my test."

Another step.

"My skills."

She stops, still with plenty of distance between them, because the air around him has grown even more stifling. It's not right. One person isn't meant to hold so much, and still he accumulates more.

"Tch. You reek of all five elements now. Must you stand out in every possible way?"

Her lip curls. For Komorebi, remaining professional around Kakashi is easier said than done.