Outskirts of the village

Kaito was sitting on a flat rock in the middle of a plain on the outside of the village. The grass was swaying with the wind and the only sound that accompanied it was the slow and mournful playing of a cello. Kaito was skillfully manipulating his instrument; his hands tenderly moving up and down on the strings, like a someone stroking his lover's long hair. It was a some time since Kaito was able to play like this with no interruption and sincerely enjoyed the peace and quiet, the only way he could. By adding another layer to it.

The thud jarred Kaito's timing and a loud squeek came from the instrument which he held in his hands. Inside he was seething; who dared to disrupt such harmony? Such beauty? Kaito looked up from his instrument the face placid and calm, looking at and yet through the ninja standing there. "Yes? What is it?"

"Hmmm..." Kaito smelled something. Nervousness? Fear? Or just sweat? Kaito wasn't sure, but he knew it was one of the three things he listed. Serial killers have that kind of instinct, between predator and prey. "Your name boy?" Though he asked it like a question it was more of a demand. He was slowly losing his control, though Kaito would try to not to instigate the conflict.