As the air from Mystery left his nostrils, so did the dark personality that had engulfed him. Yakate Tsuno was wandering quite cheerfully along the treacherous cliffs of the mountain range surrounding Mystery. His nonchalance to the danger of the task would have been quite alarming to any spectator; but after so many years stuck in that boring slum, nothing could have made him happier than leaving the village. Even if he had died that day, Yakate would have had no regrets.
He trudged, climbed, dropped, staggered, but most of all stumbled across, all the obstacles that he came across. He was whistling a tune to himself; a cheerful one, to match the time of day; the sun was directly above his head. Time was abstract; he didn't know how long he had been walking, or how long he had. Indeed, he had forgotten all his purpose since he left Shoutakugakure. Typical.
He settled down upon a grassy tuft, in a valley he seemed to have found after a long, cumbersome descent. Deciding that a rest would be advisable, he let himself fall on the ground, and fell into a spread-eagle sleep; the rustle of the trees nearby him only serving to calm his mind.