[Closed Spar] - On the quest to truth.

[Naruto.]

The sound of whistling wind was heard in the distance, carrying different coloured leaves and dust with it, scattering them in random places. A forest was there in the distance. It looked dark and grim, the intertwining trees cutting off the sunlight. And, there stood Hashirama, a constant smile on his face. He walked through the road scattered with leaves. He bent down and picked up a single green leaf, tipping the stalk with his index and thumb finger. He gazed onto it, and his mind took a trip down memory lane. The founding days of the village; only if it didn't boil down to never-ending battles with his eternal rival, Madara. But, he had finally erased his existence, thinking of the greater good of his village. His actions made him wonder what was the real answer to everything. Thus, he exiled himself for an indefinite period.

And, there increased the wind in it's intensity, pushing away the leaf from his hands.

His eyes widened, and he snapped back to reality. A melancholic look wore on his face, as he continued walking through the leaves, the familiar sound of them being crushed into a thousand pieces under his footsteps. It was fall. One hand placed on the hilt of his sheathed sword, he rummaged deeper into the forest, to discover whatever was to come.

 

[Zenryoku]

As Hashirama wanders through the thickness of the tree's further along the path sitting upon a single pointed smooth boulder overlooking a gentle stream sits a figure adorn in white cloth. upon that boulder the figure pours water down the egde of her sakura no ki and gazing into the perfect reflection whilst contenplaiting the path she has taken and reflecting upon previous journeys, actions, thougths and emotions whilst being completely aware of an approaching her location.

 

[Naruto.]

He traveled for quite some time, and stopped to drink some water in the lake nearby. He also washed his face, as he had goosebumps. The water felt divine, as it vanquished his tiredness. A small smirk emerged on his face, as he slowly got up, and continued on. After a kilometer, he felt the presence of a foreign chakra. His hand was placed on the hilt of his sword again, hidden from view. His eyes were fixated on the path ahead of him. He slowly walked, as he could finally see a figure. Upon walking further, he noticed a small stream of water, and a woman adorned in white cloth. Her face was bent diagonally downwards, as he froze in place. He keenly observed her actions. She took some water and poured it on something he couldn't see. Still maintaining his right hand on the hilt, he walked casually toward her.