'they really just let people... waltz in, huh.' [break][break]
though undoubtedly, this was not the "actual" village. from what intelligence he'd gathered, the village hidden in sound was not in any set location... right? ah, is that why it's called sound? because sound is... everywhere. still, where did they piss? in the same places as the common folk and refugees? unlikely. [break][break]
the "village", or onomichi, or whatever - it was a sacrificial location. the tug at your heartstrings story of cousins, filial piety - it was unlikely that the otokage- ah right, hokage- cared... or maybe they did...? hard to get a gauge of someone you barely know. flipping open a small notebook, eyes quick scan several notes collected by scouts, along with a general report of the "scenario". from what he could recall the previous year, the current hokage is considered a "champion of the next generation"- at least the youth of her nation seem to talk her up. even in the streets of onomichi, most see her as a hero that "handled" injustice. [break][break]
manipulator. [break][break]
it was likely the hokage has deeper intelligence not being relayed in earnest, otherwise the horrible boast of 'distracting the empire for years' coming from the newest kage to the club wouldn't need to be underscored. how did someone capable of thwarting the previous leader of the village and his subordinates, most likely vastly more experienced, come to power? what secrets did the new hokage, adored by the current youth of oto, hide? [break][break]
and most importantly, which villages were going to be sacrificed and blamed in the aftermath? once taiyou realizes more nations have assisted, their eyes will turn to the village that stood out the most... it would offer otogakure plenty of time to bolster their military that most likely is lacking with the recent change in administration, as well as significant peace for a period of time while another nation gets to deal with taiyou. [break][break]
was that it? [break][break]
ah- "oh." he mumbles behind his mask, glancing around. a low, soft grumble in his belly alerts his sense of smell, and he realizes he'd walked absentmindedly towards a family diner. his head lifts to read the sign, before another small grumble pulls him forward. sliding open the door, he observes his surroundings with bright eyes, and blinks. [break][break]
saved. [break][break]
settles down at a table on the floor, katana pulled from hip to his lap as his notepad is discreetly hidden in the inside of his jacket's pocket. it seemed pretty busy, so he'd have to wait some time. now, where was he?
In the mind of the young Akimichi, there was no better word to describe her new mission. ‘Otogakure’ they village called itself, yet moving from one tunnel to another hardly convinced her that a bunch of holes could be considered one. It was dwarfed by the rain, her new home, and even the farms back in Kusagakure had more going for them. On top of that, there was an entire political mumbo-jumbo going on that she couldn’t quite understand. From what she gathered after extensively putting her two brain cells to work, however, they needed help.
Now that was something Ichigo could wrap her head around!
It had been some time since her platoon was assigned to this mission, so while the sound worked behind the scenes to do their military and political thing, she had established a hunter role for herself. No thanks to the tai-something — she could never remember their name properly — hunting had come to a screeching halt, so she provided the materials in exchange for all the food her genin income couldn’t afford. Win-win! Fast paced steps carried her forward down the tunnel, where the aroma of delicious food pulled her in like an Akimichi magnet. She could taste the goodness already!
“Kanzaki-ojiichan, I gotcha the stuff ya wanted!” Suddenly, something hefty hit the ground just outside of the family diner, its impact loud enough to reach the ears of anyone inside — yet few cared, as if the majority of them were used to it already. There was a clear contrast between the dull, heavy thump earlier and the barely audible and soft-spoken voice. Her words were laced thick with an accent that belonged in the boonies. Out from the back of the diner an old man appears, sliding the door open to greet Ichigo. In one of her clearly swelled up arms, she held a hunk of unknown meat that dwarfed her size — behind her, a large box of unknown content. After a short exchange of greetings and trades later, she finds herself walking towards her usual spot, but…
“Oh…” Red hues eyed the man before her. The kunoichi’s eyebrows arch in a slow motion as her vision locks on the weapon on his lap. Ichigo almost puffed up her cheeks out of jealousy — must’ve been nice to use one of them. Every time she tried wielding a katana, they’d often break like brittle toys because her clan hijutsu just wasnt built for them.
“Sorry ‘bout that, buddy. I ain’t meanin’ to be rude…” She suddenly breaks her momentaneous staring, offering an apologetic short bow in realization of her rude behavior. Ichigo turns around to look for another table,
[attr="class","bolo-grid-subtitle]a falling star, left behind avant-garde.
[attr="class","bolo-body]
click. [break][break]
head slowly tilts to the left, and this new figure is observed with curious, friendly eyes. of course there's a little suspicion; why are they approaching his table- for what reason? he steadies his expression to mere curiosity, mouth slightly agape despite his distrust. steadies his breathing in his chest, expectantly... nothing happens, of course. the guard he's risen slacks just a tad, features properly squinting in a read of the other. unaware that this is typically their spot, fei smiles gently. motions for the other to sit down at the opposite end, "ignore me. come join, i'd like company." as if he totally isn't technically stealing her spot, whoops. wasn't intentional, anyways.
[attr="class","APP3"] Truth be told, the kunoichi wasn’t particularly bothered by someone taking that spot — her name wasn’t written on it or anything like that. Instead, her mind switched gears to find another table, but just as she came to the mental conclusion there were none left, the masked individual speaks up. Expressionless scarlet hues blink at him a few times, until they finally closed and curved to reveal a joyful disposition towards his offer. “Oh. Ya sure ‘bout that? Then I ain’t declinin’ a new fella’s invite. If ya ‘scuse me!” she rushed to the opposite end of the table, plopping down unceremoniously and waving to one of the waiters.
“Name’s Ichigo. Since ya don’t mind sharing a table with me, feel free to order whatever ya want! My treat~” She wasn't really paying for anything, but details, details. Unlike most clients, whom usually had to wait some time until their orders were ready, Ichigo’s arrived in just over a minute, almost as though they were expecting her. They had learned their lesson. Truth is, she totally didn’t disrupt the flow of business when she first ate at Kanzaki’s. Not all!
“Itadakimasu!“ It looked like a normal order on the first bowl. But then, another one arrives; a couple more plates, some extra thick pork chops, grilled to juicy perfection. Just as quickly as they arrived, so did the akimichi take on the effort of properly gobbling everything up. An Ichigo-sized mountain of bowls soon pile up, hiding her form — yet the other party could still hear her chopsticks click and clack with gusto. At long last she stops to speak up, her head popping out to the right of her akimichi fortress,
“Ya know, I been thinkin’. Why are ya wearin’ a mask? Do ya have somethin’ to hide?” A straightforward and innocent question asked by a genin whose intellect could not grasp the ironic weight it carried. On the off chance the sharp man missed it, she unintentionally revealed rather nonhuman canines as she munched on a piece of meat while waiting for a response. Indeed — it appeared both of them had their reasons to hide themselves behind masks, just different ones.
Then realization hits like thunder, suddenly and strong; her neurons fire off at unprecedented speed, eyes widened as she connected the dots, cracked the code, and found out the meaning behind his mask. Could it be!? This man, can he —
“C-can ya eat with a mask on?? Is that a secret technique?! Please teach me!”
[attr="class","bolo-grid-subtitle]a falling star, left behind avant-garde.
[attr="class","bolo-body]
a trained eye notes the sudden shift in atmosphere once he's joined by the kunoichi, his left brow quirking just a tad as service seems to come almost instant to cater to them. was she a regular? important person to sound? [break][break]
he's about to place his order - but as he raises a finger, the other continues to... order, essentially, the entire menu. he's baffled - she doesn't look like she gains even an ounce from the way the bowls vanish. he's yet to touch his bowl of tonkotsu ramen, pork belly and kimuchi when she seems to pause, perplexed and amazed about something- then asks him with the most serious expression: [break][break]
“C-can ya eat with a mask on?? Is that a secret technique?! Please teach me!” [break][break]
he's dumbfounded. awestruck- was this the mighty intellect of a ame genin. surely she didn't really think there was a special technique that made you eat without physically moving. wait, she's serious? he gives a subtle white guy blinking expression, muses over what his response should be... before- [break][break]
he leans forward, leaning over his bowl just a little. meets her eyes with raised eyebrows, thumb pulling at the bottom of his mask and creating a small veiled layer of hand and fabric, a bit of the noodles bitten away and neatly suckled past his lips. thumb brushes his bottom lip in a fluid motion while simultaneously allowing the mask to fall back into place, subtle chewing. he makes an iconic gesture, both palms upright as he gestures down to his bowl. though he raises the back of his left hand up to mask, giggling a little as he swallows the bite. [break][break]
"i've never been around someone that eats so lively," their worlds were far too different - a feral, gluttonous young lady sitting across from an aristocrats offspring versed in proper meal etiquette and manner. it'd be interesting, "are you old enough to drink, miss...?" he amicably extends a request for her name, figuring he may be sitting with her for awhile.
Silence filled the air — as silent as their atmosphere allowed it — and the kunoichi blinked several times and each blink was a turn of her mental cogs. There was a minute concentration from herself on his gestures, akin to a student ready to deconstruct a powerful new jutsu demonstrated by a senpai or even a sensei. Yet... Nothing? She leaned back, expecting something greater to happen but nothing out of the ordinary.
‘…!!“ And then thunder strikes within her mindscape again, a few seconds after the gesture of his hands had ended.
This time, the young green-haired kunoichi could not contain her emotions. A soft pink spreads across her visage and her cheeks clearly puff in response. “A-are ya tryin’ to make a fool ol’ me??” a metaphorical vein popped at the corner of her forehead, and she wolfed down her food even harder almost as if trying to make an unspoken point. Silly-gaudy-fancy looking guy, thinking he could bully her like this!
“If I stwopped ebwy twime to twake the masku off-” a hard swallow, “I’d be eatin’ me food way slower.” she observed the way he treated his object of gluttony just as his words revealed how he had never eaten with someone like her — ironic as it was, the same went for the Akimichi. Your average nobody always seemed horrified of the amount of food she could intake. While she couldn’t necessarily blame them, Ichigo would never be able to wrap her head around eating so little at such a turtle-paced speed.
“Ichigo. Busujima Ichigo,” she tilted her head, the clockworks of her mind mulling over his question. As she did so, her chopsticks brought yet another mouthful of ramen into her mouth, almost as if her hand was a separate entity to the one doing the heavy think-thonking. “I ain’t old enough to drink the fuzzy stuff. Grandpa’ always be tellin’ me not to drink it til eighteen.”
She leaned forward and whispered to her new acquaintance, “Have ya tried it out? W-what’s it like, Mr…?” It only then dawns on her she hadn’t gotten his name yet, but that was a matter for another time. Now, the curious Akimichi had already forgotten the bullying and wanted to know about the super secret world of adults and their weird drinks. Téngfēi Zhōng
