Snippet #1308245

Walking into the village, things always felt different. The glares Sumio used to receive as a child were reserved, even semi-kindly and he knew that none of that would have came without Tezuka. The trouble-making boy had been the only one to make him feel acknowledged, or useful. As long as they were together, he knew that he could do something great, even if it cost his life. It'd been like this for as long as he could remember and for once in his life, he didn't mind it. Striding side-by-side, they could do anything, or at least that's what it felt like. Smiling softly, he tucked his arms into the arms of his hakama and ignored the soft, thumps at his temples. When they were like this, it was almost bearable. Before he knew it, the fiery Mizukage stood before them, smiling like she always did. Instinctively, his posture straightened and his eyebrows raised worriedly. She didn't seem to plan talking to them out in the open, so Sumio followed along with his friend and racked his mind with the possibilities. What could it be? A mission? Not likely, the remaining goosebumps trailing across his pale complexion told him different. This felt different.

Sumio couldn't help but glance around the inner office, it was large and the architecture was brilliant. Something he could always appreciate in the village of the Hidden Mist. Mouthing the word Jinchuriki under his breath, he wondered who would hunt them. And for what? It wasn't as if they could harness their beasts, could they? The thoughts whirled around his mind until he stood in front of her wide, wooden desk stacked with papers. Obviously, she was busy. Akatsuki, that was what the group was called? It left already left a bad taste in his mouth and his stomach lurched irritably at the injustice of it. Most Jinchuriki had always had a hard time “fitting” in at their respective villages, and now they were being hunted like dogs. It wasn't fair. “Akatsuki, huh?” Sumio repeated, raising his dark eyes to meet the Mizukage's. This wasn't the time to interrupt their Mizukage, he could tell by that look in her eyes that this was serious and he stilled his beating heart, absorbing the information like a sponge. He almost jumped when her voice jumped a few octaves, as she glared over her papers and stared directly at Tezuka. Throughout his childhood, he'd always been the one keeping Tezuka out of trouble—and he'd always been pulled into trouble when it didn't work. He smiled sheepishly, nodding his head.

“I promise,” Sumio receded, meeting Tezuka's gaze before grinning. He met Mizukage's gaze once more, his eyebrows raising, “What should we be doing in the mean time, Miss?”