| abstract | - R was walking through the Land of Whirlpools, as he was living there after his expulsion from Kumogakure. As he patrolled the area he had claimed as his own and raised a house on, he came across an interesting sight. At the strange, monumental building he had noted on his earlier passes, there was a figure standing there. His heartrate quickened. No one had ever come to the property he had claimed himself as lord of. The building itself was an intriguing sight. It was a modest three-storied pagoda, painted a cheerful yellow with a stylized red spiral on all four sides. But overgrown stone paths and bridges crisscrossed the natural scenery, in a manner reminiscent of some former temple garden. But this mysterious figure walked throughout its grounds with the ease of long familiarity. The man with the long scarf trailing behind him meandered the overgrown cobbles, dallying at the torii gates and clearing off the dusted inscriptions. Reaching a shattered bridge, the man easily, naturally, stepped onto the surface of the water, a circular ripple disturbing the still, clear water as he continued, lost in thought. So this man had to be a shinobi! Standing tranquilly on the surface of the water as the ripples died down, Yakedo Shio murmured in a carrying voice, "I know you're there. Are you the last one to walk these grounds?" "Well I don't really think so, anyways who would you be? Are you a native here?" questioned R. "Me? You could call me a native, I was born and raised in Uzu no Kuni... but this... is a temple... of the Shio Clan. As the ancient custom decrees, punishment for entering is death." And as his hands blurred, a array of dragon-shaped fireballs spun forth from his mouth, hazing the air with their passage.
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