The Man in the Mirror

                Sometimes the person we see in the mirror looks nothing like us…and in a lot of cases that person is more like us than the jaded and fake masks we wear. I wake up every morning and have to stare down that creature and more often than not it felt like I had become Dorian Gray in some twisted way. I’ve heard people say that a broken heart can only make you stronger, but that’s a lie it can do two things: actually make you stronger or turn you into a cynical outcast. The more you believe yourself to be that putrid reflection in the mirror, the more you begin to lose your grip on reality. It’s that strive to go back to normalcy and our complacent spots in life that often end up alienating us even further from that spot. I’m neither a saint nor a cynic; I’m simply an outcast trying to figure out which side I really am on. It’s a constant battle looking into the mirror, is that reflection just a manifestation of my sins and transgressions or is it what’s hiding behind my walls and masks? It often feels like the physical me isn’t the real me, but the man in the mirror is. The more I brood the more it seems that way and that leads me to be often immature in social situations, I want to distance myself from the portrait and burn it away forever. The flipside is that in smaller social situations I end up being that cynical person and judging others based off how I was in those same situations, even though I’m the worst possible comparison there is. I have asked myself recently to look in the mirror and really figure out who I am: saint or cynic? I stared into that mirror and clenched my fists, I clenched them so tight that my palms bled. It was in that pain that I made my decision and I pulled back a hand hitting that mirror as hard as I could. The shattered glass mixed with blood pattered against the ground as nothing was left but shattered pieces desperately clinging to the board. I am neither a saint nor a cynic, I am a person…a person riddled with regrets, pain, and torture, but also filled with love, compassion, and kindness. I walk the double edged sword between those worlds and tilt between them.  Whether that’s a good thing or not I’ve yet to decide, but one thing is for sure I am not the man in the mirror.

Forged

     All right, let me start off by explaining why I have these two videos here. These are two videos I would like you to listen to as you sit and read this. They are two of my absolute favorite songs in the world and this will be a story about my life, so their themes and lyrics fit. The first video is Blackbird by The Beatles for a secular touch and Amazing Grace because it is my favorite hymn ever and I honestly wish we sang it every time at His House, I will never tire of that song ever. I intentionally chose a secular and Christian song because that's how my life is I've dedicated my self to the Lord Jesus Christ, but I still have roots in the secular world, however; I have worked relentlessly to cut myself off from anything that I shouldn't be doing, like swearing or adult things(you know what I mean don't make me say it). 

     With the introduction aside, I'll get into the good or bad part of the story and that is the story of my life. Like many of you who will actually read this I was born and raised in Wisconsin and I'm wholeheartedly proud of that fact. I wasn't born into a very Christian family though and that's the cause of a lot of my troubles, the separation from God. Most of my family believed in God and Jesus, but we didn't go to church regularly and when we did I had to be dragged in kicking and screaming, albeit that's still true for me but that's because I'm lazy and don't want to have to wake up at 6 AM to get ready for church. So, with this life I was familiar with God and believed in him but it was far FAR from a part of my life. I discovered swearing at a young age and thought it was pretty darn awesome because I was 6 and doing things you weren't supposed ruled. This swearing business was as rebellious as I got though, thankfully. I was always a very behaved child, discrediting a few occasions where I'd get a bit rowdy but in my defense I'm a boy so I should get a pass on that.
     To go with this good boy attitude I was always gifted and very intelligent, I'll apologize for sounding conceited and narcissistic, and did well in school. I can't say I worked hard in school honestly because I'm consistently lazy. You may be wondering how I did so well in school then and the answer is that I was blessed with that gift of intelligence and didn't have to study very hard because I retained information very well and this is a gift and curse that has persisted into my college years. My dad insists that these habits will change eventually as college gets harder and I simply tell him whatever because it's not going to matter I'm way too rooted into these ways now to simply change it. Anyways, the real reason I bring up this topic of natural gifts and stuff is because I used to take these kinds of things for granted and actually was conceited and narcissistic. I know some of you are thinking I still am now with all the talk of how handsome I am and stuff like that, but I really hope you believe me when I tell you it's all in joking and that I don't mean a single word of it. Outwardly I may seem that way, but on the inside I'm very self-deprecating but that's a topic for later. All these gifts I had started to get to my head though and I started to stray away from God's path that he had set for me. I was never fully Atheist, but there was a stretch of years where God was the absolute last thing I ever thought of and looking back it was a very dark time and I was only 12-15.
     The problem with my intelligence and lack of Christian foundation is that I ended up in my own head a lot and only seeing mistakes and regrets. I was, and still am, painfully shy, socially awkward, and average looking is a compliment(as you can see self-deprecating I still do it). I felt like a horrible person and a waste of space and began just going through the motions of everyday life. I found myself a nice little routine, nestled in, and stayed there for awhile. Like before, I never got into much trouble or acted out, but that's only because I always internalized my problems and forced a smile so my friends wouldn't have to worry about me. I've always been told I have a kind heart, and the palm reader I've gone to says I have healing hands and eyes as well which fits, and that heart has led me to always be supportive of people and always extend a hand to help others, but I never used to have someone to support and extend a hand to, me. It's not because I didn't have friends, I've always had plenty, but because I am still way too stubborn to admit I need help and go seek it. Now I have God to turn to, but I still can't ask someone physically in front of me because I hate for people to be concerned about me. It's probably part of the reason I behave so much, I don't want anyone to be thinking about me or my personal well being because I can take care of it, I'm the one who needs to be worried about you. I have a horrible habit of pushing my problems to the side and not addressing them because if I do then people might know I'm not a Superman or that I'm not good enough to help them out, it's still a fear I have today.
     The worst part about all this internalization is the intense amount of self-deprecation it's created. I constantly belittle myself, some may say it's just being humble in some contexts but it's not I really believe myself to be worthless sometimes. Even as I write this the thoughts racing through my head are: no one will read this, if anyone does they'll think it's stupid, nobody cares about what you write, etc. I could go on for awhile and I end up doing that a lot. With the last part I wrote a lot of people said that I was a strong and stronger man for having done that, but I certainly didn't feel like that. You guys may see a strong man on the outside, but on the inside I still feel like that 6 year old kid who thinks swearing is fun even though I swear a whole lot less now. I don't really know why I see myself this way because I can identify how much I've matured and how far I've come along, but even so it's still the same feeling. The last day of the Winter Retreat I went on we had communion and as everybody got up and took their piece and cup, I sat in my chair and didn't go up because I didn't see myself as worthy of taking that. I know it sounds silly and I'm really glad no one noticed I didn't move, but on a personal level I didn't feel like I had done enough and become a person worthy of taking communion with Christ because I'm still so far away from that.
     But I think the root of all this self-loathing is one of the older brothers I grew up with. My second oldest brother, Robert, was an incredible asshole to me throughout my entire life and still is to this day. He constantly insults and demeans me thinking he's being funny, but instead he's just being an ass. Somehow no one else in the family really sees this and nothing has been done about it ever. Even my own dad has never said anything to stop anything, he's made occasional remarks that they(including Jason but he only does it when Rob starts) never stop the insults but just lets them continue. I don't know if he's for some reason jealous that I did good in school or something but that's all Rob's fault for always being an ass. I've been very close a few times to just exploding on him and calling him out on all his shit. I did the next best thing though and limit any time I speak or do anything with him because I'm not exaggerating, it really is like that every single time and I can no longer stand it. I just hate the fact that nobody else ever says anything though, my family knows I'm quiet and reserved when it comes to stuff like that and it amazes me that no one has ever said a single thing to him, he just gets to do what he wants. This isn't just insults either, he used to get physically aggressive as well and I was literally scared of him. It's amazing I survived because I was terrified every time he was around and would never know what he was going to do to mess with me next. He likes to say he was building character, but there is a fine line between occasional jokes and such so you're not so sensitive to them but the constant berating isn't building anything but walls because I will now never in my life respect him or do anything for him because he doesn't deserve that from me. That's also another thing I hate about some family members, mainly Rob and my dad because they are practically the same thing, and that's expecting my respect when I get none in return. I'm proud of the fact that every once of respect I have I earned and didn't just expect people to give it to me.
     I say my brother is a lot like dad and the flip-side of that is that I am a lot like my mother because she primarily raised me. It should be stated that my dad was always around, but only physically around never emotionally. I'm very attached to my mother and love her dearly because she reciprocates that feeling, but dad doesn't. If he reads this, he'll insist he does and always has, but it's hard to believe. He'll also claim my mom has been telling me lies about him which is also very insulting because it's insinuating I'm not smart enough to form my own opinions on people. I was always left behind by my dad in a lot of things, which only adds to my self-loathing. Rob was always dad's favorite and as such I got a lot of hand me downs and left overs. I could list stories, but I feel you already get a good picture of the family dynamic.
     This lack of a real emotional father left me to seek someone else to fill that gap and that man was, ironically, my grandfather on dad's side(my dad's dad). After I talk about him you'll think it's weird because him and his son are nothing alike other than blood, so as I list qualities just think of the opposite in my dad. My grandpa was always so caring and generous, two things that really rubbed off on me. The most amazing quality was how much energy he always seemed to have. Dad dropped us off with him and grandma a lot and I'm sure once we left they were exhausted, but the entire time we were there(and the we is 3 young boys) they seemed to have all the energy to play and horse around. The strangest part of all was that my grandpa had a heart transplant years before and usually after that people kind of slow down, but I didn't know anything was wrong with him until I was told that he had the surgery. I should've known since I helped him often with medication, not because he couldn't do it but because I could and I wanted to help, but it never clicked that he was that anything less than a superhero. The interesting part about our relationship is that the year I was born was the same year he had the operation and the funny part is at the party the family had for him coming out of the hospital was the SAME EXACT night that my mom found out she was pregnant with me. I don't believe in coincidences at all, everything happens for a reason, and that night is the reason for why I feel so close to my grandpa.
     Those last few paragraphs were hard to write because I've never explicitly said that stuff out loud to them and if my Dad really does read it it's going to be a surprise. I don't like to create conflict, but that might. The hardest part was writing about my grandpa though because he passed away 3 years ago and I was devastated. The night I found out, I had never felt so numb and alone before in my entire life. I knew everyone dies and all that but for him it just didn't seem real and I still cling childishly to the notion that maybe one day I'll wake up and it'll be false, just so I can talk with him and hear how proud he is of me again. However, it is through that trial that we can get to the fun stuff and that is my rediscovered faith in Jesus. Obviously, after a death you need answers and nothing seemed to give me any but the occasional FCA, Fellowship of Christian Athletes, things I went to. I used to only go because I need a ride home and my friend went plus free pizza is awesome. Suddenly though, after grandpa's deaths the teachings began to make more and more sense and I suddenly began to understand what they meant by these things. I remember the first meeting of my junior year was the worst and the best. I had begun to reaffirm myself in the Lord, but hadn't done it full yet and that night it hit me that I needed to. I was fine throughout the entire message but when we stood up to sing, my knees began shaking wildly and I couldn't stand and for some reason I was crying. I had bottled things up for so long and hardly ever cried, but for some reason I was bawling and knew something was changing.
     I still wasn't perfect yet and still strayed a time or two though, but the worst time of all my friend and one of the main reasons I'm still around Jake Cottrell made sure I'd never want to do anything like that ever again. A few friends decided to throw a party and I went because I needed something to do and was bored. And so, as with any high school party, I smoked pot and engaged in less than savory actions with a girl. The only vice I didn't succumb to was alcohol and that's because I refuse to drink anything, and any of the other stuff now. When it came back to Monday of course everybody heard about it...including Jake. Now, Jake's a pretty buff kid so his punching me in the arm repeatedly in the same spot felt horrible and rightly so. I needed that physical manifestation of his disappointment to really appreciate how much he cared about me and the standard he held people to. It's now the same standard I hold myself to because it pushes me to be a better person and because I fear that if I do fall off again, somehow Jake will find me and literally punch my arm off in anger.
     The His House'ers who read this have now seen my growth in the past months and understand what kind of person I am now. If you know me or can imagine the old me then you know I'm really the same kid, just living a more wholesome life. I will be the first to tell you I love being incredibly immature because I used to try and be an adult, but that's just depressing and boring so I decided not to do it. I can be mature and help when the situation arises, but why be boring when there's so much fun to be had? I'm consistently the same kind of person and I've stopped living that double life of trying to be Christian, but keep my secular friends and have simply aligned with more faith-based friends. I feel now I've been refined and forged into the person God wants me to be now. I still don't feel all that worthy of anything He gives me, but I know I'm on the right path to get there. I know the career God wants me to go through with and where my lot in life is, which is a lot more than I could've said 4 years ago. So, if you read all the way I thank you and hopefully you have a better feel for how I am and all that jazz..

A Shinobi's Life

                 (The two pictures at the bottom are to give a visual reference for what the adult Toboe looks like the left one being just normal and the right one being his formal attire which is what he enters the council room with)

              The rain softly fell creating a light pit-pat sound against the window pane at the hospital. Despite the dreary conditions outside, the family inside couldn’t be happier as their first son had just been born. The mother held a small child in her arms softly cooing to him as the child cried relentlessly. The father sat down in a chair beside them and smiled, marveling at his wife and newborn son.

                “Well Atoli, what should we name him?” the father asked gently touching his child’s cheek.

                She smiled at the child, “How about Toboe?” she let out a small laugh, “It fits with the way he’s crying.”

                The father smiled and nodded, “Toboe Hibamoro…I like the sound of it.”

                The couple relaxed back as Toboe began to doze off. “I can’t believe you’re even awake after that. It sounded pretty bad in there.” The father said, finally having some time to talk with his wife.

                “Oh Tsumori, you know us Nadeshiko women are a lot stronger than you give us credit for.” Atoli smiled in response.

                “I give you plenty of credit Atoli,” he said laughing, “I find it more unbelievable you thought I was strong enough for you.”

                She laid back cradling Toboe in her arms, “Narrowly or not you did win fair and square, traditions said I had to marry you and it helps that you’re not bad looking either.” She gave a soft laugh.

                Tsumori laughed in return and exchanged a quick kiss with her before sitting back down as Atoli laid back drifting off to sleep. After a day of rest Atoli and Tsumori took their son home and began settling in for the next chapter of their lives. They proceeded along happily as the next few months and years passed by with no major events to speak of. Toboe learned to walk and talk, his first word was water which was no surprise since they lived on an island and had a beachfront house, and went through all the progressions a normal child would. Their family couldn’t be happier, but things drastically changed when Toboe was around 4 years old and civil war broke out amongst his country.

                Toboe was pulled roughly along by his mother as they ran from their home. Atoli and Tsumori were devastated as they watched their house burn down. The strife wasn’t supposed to reach Nadeshiko Village, they were only outliers and had no sentiment invested in either side. No one was even all that sure how it rose to violence, but both Atoli and Tsumori knew this was no place to raise their son anymore. They boarded a nearby merchant ship headed for the Land of Fire. 

                It took a few days for the ship to arrive in harbor and they slowly disembarked, scared and afraid of where to go. The first priority was food, they hadn’t eaten since leaving Nadeshiko and Toboe couldn’t last much longer. Tsumori ventured further into the town as Atoli and Toboe sat down at a nearby well, bringing up the pail in hopes there was some water. Unfortunately there was none, the well was as bone dry as the cracked and peeling earth beneath them.

                “Mom…where are we going?” Toboe managed in a soft whisper as he leaned against his mother, snuggling up close to her.

                She sighed and put an arm around him, “I don’t know Toboe…”

                “Why can’t we go home?” he looked up at her.

                “Because those bad people are all around and your father and I want to keep you safe.” She smiled kissing his forehead as Tsumori came back.

                “There’s a caravan headed to Konohagakure, but we have to hurry.” Tsumori said as he helped Atoli up.

                She nodded as she picked Toboe up, who had fallen asleep. They trudged along and snuck into the back of one wagon, quietly watching out the back and took in their new surroundings. Konoha was large enough that they would be able to find a job, but still things wouldn’t be easy for them. They arrived at their new home a few hours later and stood at the gates, in awe of the size of Konohagakure. It was a rough assimilation at first, but they eventually settled in and Toboe was enrolled at the Ninja Academy once he turned 5 and both Atoli and Tsumori had gotten multiple jobs to support themselves.

                The few months passed by very stressfully for Atoli and Tsumori. Their residual tensions began to rise as the toll of their jobs and raising a child had begun to reach their boiling points. The stress was made worse as they constantly hid their rage up in front of Toboe, not wanting to upset him or distract from his studies. He had quickly become a quite proficient ninja and received special recognition from the Hokage himself.. Toboe was truly happy once again because he didn’t know about the coming storm.

                On Toboe’s 6^th birthday he went to class as usual, playing and celebrating with his friends, and his mother took the day off to decorate. Tsumori, his father, had said he was going out to collect supplies but he never came back. The only notice she ever got was a note delivered to her a few hours later stating that Tsumori was leaving for a better job to help out the family. The hidden truth, however; was that Tsumori was never coming back and when that realization hit Atoli she lost the will to live. She forced herself to smile through Toboe’s party, but it all rapidly deteriorated from there.

                “Mom…where’d Dad go? He wasn’t at my party.” Toboe asked as he helped his mother clean up.

                “He had to work an extra shift Boe,” she said taking some plates from him, “Go out and play you shouldn’t be cleaning on your birthday.

                He smiled brightly continuing to help, “You’re the one that needs to play Mom, you look tired. I can do it.”

                She began to protest again before being interrupted by Toboe, “It’s fine really. I’m a big kid now!”

                Atoli laughed a full and real laugh too, as she patted his head, “You’re going to make a great husband someday.”

                Toboe smiled some more as the finished cleaning. The rest of the day came and went and ended with Toboe opening his present, a brand new set of training clothes for the Ninja Academy. The next morning he donned his new clothes and set off for the Academy as his mother stood in the door way waving him off. Atoli walked back into her home and sat down on the couch, her breathing slow and labored. The exhaustion had caught up with her and, in contrast, she couldn’t catch her breath. She slowly drifted off, “…got to get to…work for…To...Tobo-“were the last hushed words spoken before her eyes closed and her breath was slowly stopped.

                Her death went unnoticed for the majority of the day and subsequently, Toboe remained oblivious to it as he made his way back home. When he entered she appeared just to be sleeping in her chair, so he let her be and sat down beginning to read a book he had borrowed. He kicked his legs back and forth, tapping his heels against the base of the chair, occasionally glancing up at his mother to check on her. After an hour or so he got up and set his book aside then gently tapped his mother and waited for a response. A few seconds passed before he utilized a more forceful gesture and audibly asked his mother to wake up.

                “Mom…are you playing a game or something?” he asked innocently tilting his head as the door opened behind him.

                “Atoli wh-“said the man who was cut off by Toboe’s shushing.

                “Sorry Mister, Mom’s sleeping we have to be quiet.” Toboe stated firmly.

                The man took a second to collect himself, as he was a little startled at child hushing him, and looked at the pair. After a brief moment he let out a gasp as his eyes realized what he was looking at, Atoli was dead. Being older he noticed the lack of movement and the fact that her chest wasn’t moving…which meant she wasn’t moving at all. The man did all he could to fight back the tears for the fact that Atoli was dead and that Toboe was so young and innocent he had been watching his mother for these past hours without even realizing it. Looking down into Toboe’s pure blue eyes the man was shaken to his core at the scene and kneeled down trying his best to explain this situation to the child.

                “I…I’m sorry but she’s dead.” He said looking away.

                “What?” he asked laughing a bit, “That can’t be, she’s just tired that’s all.”

                “Come on son…I’ll find someone for you to stay with.” The man said reaching for Toboe’s hand.

                “No, that’s ok. I’m sure Mom will wake up soon.” Toboe said walking away from the man and sitting down.

                The man quietly left after that, finding it better to let the kid enjoy his fantasy for a little while longer. It only became real to Toboe when the man came back that night with a few other adults to help begin the preparation for her funeral. He sat in his chair and watched them collect her body and try to explain it all to him again. The words fell to the ground, never quite reaching Toboe; he sat in a stoic silence staring at the floor. The men were a bit unsettled at Toboe’s reaction, the lack of tears and crying, there didn’t seem to be any sort of sadness on his face, it looked more along the lines of someone who had known that death was coming and was merely waiting on its arrival. When the actual day of the funeral came he took his chair in the front row and maintained that same sullen demeanor.

                After that day more than a few of the adults around the town came and offered to take Toboe in as a foster child, but each time he politely refused them and remained on his own. The teachers as well began taking it easier on Toboe and in response he worked even harder and demanded he be treated harsher, that he didn’t deserve anything special. For the rest of his student years he continued to strive towards perfection and began to quickly progress through the ranks. He graduated from the academy a year later at age 6 to become a Genin and a mere 2 years later becoming a chuunin.

                Toboe began to receive high accolades and special attention from the Hokage. He even began to scare some of his comrades as he was noted for his ruthless nature and cold-hearted nature. A lot of the others began to suspect him of being mentally unstable because he took a little bit too much joy in eliminating his targets. The hidden truth was that Toboe actually hated having to do it, but always reverted back to that stoic and unhinged state to make himself less vulnerable. Toboe was highly gifted as a shinobi as shown by his constant promotions and honors.  He was even appointed, personally, to become the personal bodyguard of Shodai Hokage, Akihiro Teruyoshi.

                Once appointed the position everything began to slow down a little bit. Toboe  had begun settling down into his own home for once, moving past living transiently throughout apartments. He had even started tinkering with technology, creating random little inventions. Outside of being with the Hokage, Toboe spent a lot of his time holed up in his workshop.

                “So what is it again you do in that home son?” the Hokage asked one day as he and Toboe traversed the town.

                “Oh just random things Hokage…nothing major” Toboe responded.

                Akihiro laughed, “Well it sounds major with all the noise you make and the fact you’re covered in dust every morning.”

                “Hah, I just don’t clean up after myself Hokage.”

                “That’s why you need a woman son.” He laughed, patting Toboe’s shoulder as he began coughing softly.

                “You feeling okay? We can head back to the office if you’d like.”

                “Heh,’ Akihiro said smiling, “I know those cold-hearted rumors about you aren’t true, you have quite the soft spot for older folk.”

                “Just taking care of the only man that took care of me.” Toboe said as he smiled and helped the Hokage on his walk.

                Toboe spent the next years months like that; daily conversations and walks with the Hokage as Akihiro’s health slowly deteriorated. He was almost always at Akihiro’s side and the Hokage even began calling Toboe “son” more and more often, giving Toboe a stable father figure. Townsfolk’s opinion of Toboe began to change as the softening of his personality showed drastically. The best showing of this was when a few of the children came to him with an injured wolf pup. They hoped, since Toboe was the village’s only medical ninja, that he could heal the pup and save it. And that he did, of course, and adopted the pet as his own, naming him Akihiro after the Hokage. Toboe suddenly had what felt like a real family and the support of others around him. This new reputation was founded by Akihiro and his illness had set up Toboe for another devastating tragedy at Akihrio’s death. However, when the Hokage eventually did pass, at the age of 74, things progressed quite differently.            

                The funeral came and went with Toboe adorning his stoic nature again, even as he gave the eulogy. The elder council was beginning the search for the Nidaime Hokage and Toboe took his chance to seize power. He knew it was a bold and risky move since he was only 19, but no one else was suited to take over the position.

                “I’ve heard some rumors about a prominent ninja from the Grass country.” the council woman stated, “Maybe we can get him to take over.”

                “Is it really best to get an outsider to do this? What about some of our senior shinobi?” the council man returned.

                “None of them are interested, too big of shoes to fill the said.” She said sighing distastefully.

                “Well neither one of us wants to say it but what about-“ he began before Toboe entered and cut him off.

                “Appoint me as the Nidaime Hokage…you know it’s right.” He stated boldly and firmly.

                “But you’re so unkempt boy!” the council woman stated rather rudely.

                She was referring to the fact that Toboe rarely cut his hair, ending up with long hair past his shoulders, but that’s the only unkempt part of his appearance. The rest of him was actually very well put-together; he wore very fine and elegant clothing, lent to him by the former Hokage, and was generally well mannered. These were all traits the Shodai Hokage had taught him, but his current formal look was for this occasion only.

                “Listen! I was the personal student of Shodai Hokage, Akihiro Teruyoshi! That makes me the most sensible candidate for Nidaime Hokage.” Toboe said approaching them, “I’m sure the Hokage left something about this in his will.”

                “Well that’s the thing,” the council man began, “We can’t find the will.”

                “Then until then I’ll assume the role of Hokage and if the will states otherwise I will step down!” Toboe stated as the council man and woman agreed.

                Nothing was ever found to overturn his ascension to power and Toboe remained Hokage until the present day. He became a quick favorite among his people as he was kind and gentle-hearted and takes good care of his students, often going to extremes for them. However, the few people close to him, as in the few servants he keeps and mandatory guards, claim it's only an act and say Toboe is a bit unhinged and insane due to finding his mother dead, along with being so close to the first Hokage then having to watch him die as well. The villagers disbelieve the rumors as Toboe chooses to continue the traditions and standards set by Shodai Hokage, whose name meant Bright and Shining Justice, and Toboe hopes to make Konohagakure a beacon of that very nature. A goal that will certainly prove difficult with his love for explosions and conflict, but all things he does is in the name of good.