ou bring Ration. A Med Kit. A Braille Copy of Icha Icha's Rabbit Tales
Perhaps it was not the send off items that were given to standard shinobi, but it was the standard items that were given to the Usagi children. Compliments to their dearest Grandmother who fondly loomed over them like a mother hen. Much to the dismay of her nature insisting she was a rabbit. There was actually that look on her face that he wished he could see, her tone lifting with a finger to the high heavens, and finally there was that cackle of hers after saying these words.
“Go on lots of adventures! Have lots of experiences my dears!”
Of course, every Usagi mother would slap a palm across their faces knowing what she meant.
Hikari Usagi had thought about that rousing speech ever since he left the village that day. It was his first assignment, and he was already thinking about the hundred stories he had been told and was still hearing them! Every stroke of his finger that went across the pages was reading the elaborate arrangement of points and digits that were code for his clan. The Usagi who were blind or had the misfortune of having horrid vision had copies of these pages. It was to make sure they did not miss a bit of the details that their ancestors wrote about that made the lands what they were today.
Farfetched? Maybe. But Hikari believed it all!
“An interesting place to hide supplies.” He would turn one page.
“Oh! She had to practice doing that one!” Then the next.
“She convinced how many people over night to betray their Clan Leader?” Perhaps the last one was exaggerated.
Still, all the same, the boy’s eyes were in complete astonishment and the attention was captivated by his fingers stroking across the pages. It was probably not the best use of his focus as he had been tasked with preparing for the coming mission. He was told to do…something. Was it to double check his supplies? Check for any intruders on the inside? Some old lady needed a cart ride? The details escaped him as quickly as they had come with a perk of his head and a roll of his eyes. With his finger stroking his cheek, he would simply think…
“I will read one more chapter,” he mused, “Then I will see about that…thing…to remember, yes?”
Turning the next page, he would continue along his route, especially attentive to the braille sliding along his fingers. What part of the village in? He was not sure. He just knew that it was a strange sensation with every step of his feet. His draping Ofurisode sleeves of orchid purple would move like feathers while each step felt this echoing, hollow, sensation under his feet. He had remembered about the stories of tunnels carved out within the village, so he knew the sensation would take time getting used to. He had to pretend he was at the Usagi Meeting Grounds where the young ones who were gifted enough to learn Doton were already moving beneath the soil as if they were taking daily swims.
Now that he thought of it, he missed that already as this was the first time, he traveled so far from Iwagakure. In a way, he was nothing but a silly little tourist. In truth, he was a shinobi, and not the conventional one. His expression, his carefree movements, and even how he mused to himself in the street in amazement about what he ready in the chapters? It indicated everything about him for anyone to see.
"Nothing lasts forever, but [Name], this is getting good now!" OOC: Sorry for Accidental Tags.
[attr="class","zacwords"]Despite not being able to yet locate the platoon he was assigned to support, it seemed Chinetsu’s early departure from Kumogakure ensured he had arrived before calamity did, and that – at least, for now – he was able to roam a bit freer than intended. It was all in the spirit of scouting and discovery, of course! As if… Regardless, what the medic had not expected was the huge distraction his surroundings would become. The place was sprawling with activity, and as time would soon reveal, not the best kind for a man recovering of more than one mental disease. [break][break]
It had been over a week since his forced conscription back as a battle medic under the banner of Kumogakure. And despite his undying will to not break sobriety, no matter what – after all, a week, for a drunk of his nature, was basically an eternity – constant reminders proved his fortitude was not quite as ironclad as he had given himself credit for. Shit… Despite the literature awarded to him upon arrival to the village meant to assist in traversing of such – offered to the Chuunin as both visitor and ally – it seemed the Chuunin had “accidentally” stumbled upon a very specific area of the village. Where am I…!?[break][break]
While he wasn’t sure of its name, it was hard not to note that it certainly was both festive and plentiful when it came to imbibement. Immediate mental alarms began to sound off as he continued forward, entwined to perambulate in a zigzag-like pattern. It was hellish. Yet a combination of his trained overwhelming defense mechanisms, as well as the sheer number of places offering sinful indulgences, resulted in warnings that did little to soothe the soul. Heavy sweat in the form of droplets began to form at the base of his forehead, rolling down soon after, accompanied by a rather unflattering set of tremors in his hand, and a trembled speech. [break][break]
“F-fuck-k-k…”
[break] Such were his pains that he felt his body was completely constricted, and thus, oblivious to an incoming passerby, whom before unavoidable contact, seemed to also be extremely overtaken with what seemed to be a most fascinating binding of literature. Chinetsu, drowning in his own demons, was unable to prevent the crash, a doomed trained forever stuck to the tracks of misery he had ridden for so long. All he could do was stare at the inevitable, a slave to his own stupor, horrid he now had to involve a completely random and innocent person in his own problems.[break][break]
[attr="class","texty"]There were stories about this part…
The lone rabbit that would travel inside a village alone and vulnerable. It did not completely describe Usagi Hikari, but it was pretty damn close! Undeniable to the literary history of what he read about his mothers and sisters of the clan. They would have encounters like this, whether it be moon soaked nights or crimson crossed skies of evenings like this. The young rabbit would not be able to witness it all, but that did not stop him from deeply engross himself in the chapters of his foremothers who had done it.
Wild nights! Blurry mornings! The smell of-
CRASH!!!
He knew this smell.
Clumsily, the lavender haired bunny would make a quick and clumsy shuffle. The pages of the book in hand flapped about. No doubt did he lose his place, but it seemed he was not the only one. His palms would glide upward, a wall erected between himself and this new character that interjected into the chapters of his life. The rabbit would quickly correct his stance from his klutzy dance. His feet squaring and his thumb pressing between the frolicking pages before he would open his mouth and perhaps a piece of the Usagi Clan’s signature phrasing came from his mouth.
“Excuse me, sir,” His voice chiming an almost seductive tone, “That is one way of ramming into me, but-“
He stopped! Curse his tongue! Curse his bibliophilic habits! Curse his face painted a shade of red giving away his utter humiliation!
“W-wait! N-no!” He would screech as his arms flailed out. In a cartoonish manner, he tried to quickly wipe away the moment like a towel to a foggy window, “S-Sorry! A habit from work! I noticed-“ He stopped. He noticed? Of course, he did! With no eyes, his ears that pumped chakra made this moment like muscle memory. Drunks did this all the time: Crashing into him and his family members in their work attire outfits, spilling some flirty line with the breath that can be ignited with the spark of a kunai striking iron, and then there was the slightest tone and movement that was picked up by his ears with a thin flow of chakra.
Yet…he was not at work. A big concern.
“U-umm…s-sir,” His voice less flirty, more calm, much more compassionate. His palms that were a wall between them had suddenly become dainty little things that curled as if to touch the figure if need be and comfort him. “A-are you…alright? You do not seem…well.” Mildly put, the rabbit did not speak to his professionalism when seeing individuals like a this.
A Usagi knew an alcohol when they seen them, even if the rabbit could not see him at all with those foggy, blue spheres that knew not even the sunlight. Still, this rabbit knew his self-medicating civilians.
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