Seriously, Your Pants Are On Fire. (P, NK, Niran)

Konjaku found himself in the training grounds far too often and yet he was still only a genin. What's more is that he had hardly gained enough jutsu to be as versatile or helpful to his team as he felt he needed to be. While he was frustrated by his own lack of growth he know he was growing and that was all he could ask for. Well, that and time away from his mother were all he needed anyway but no one knew his mother quite like he did. Anyone who was unlucky enough to meet her would respect her manners and adore her petite physique. Konjaku wasn't privy to what it was people saw in that woman that made people fawn over her the way they did. She was controlling, needy, demanding, and even worse, damning of the shinobi lifestyle. She spat in the face of simple logic and was perfectly content with her meager existence. The strong rule over the weak and the weak get run over by the strong. Not many at the bottom of the hierarchy felt unsafe beneath the sheltering wings of those above. In fact, many reveled in that false sense of security. The though made Kon's skin crawl. 'How can someone be content with being protected by others the whole of their lives?' As Kon contemplated this notion a breeze gently caressed his face. His hair waved lazily like hanging moss as he stood upside down beneath the branch of tall, oak tree.

WC: 251

Jutsu Used:
Tree Climbing/Surface Walking