[attr="class","APP3"] “I’m sorry…” arms still firmly latched around her belly, the apology slipped from her lips out of habit. Though this was the first time her fellow platoon members had seen her hunger-driven antics at play, this wasn’t the first time the akimichi had found herself into trouble because of food — it probably wasn’t going to be the last time, either. Alas, when the torturous grumbling of her stomach subsided and her gaze fell upon her sensei again, her features switched colors like a morning dew at the perfect angle of light and despair. Trembling in place as though her body fought against the cold of a blizzard, she was reminded of her grandpa’s warnings; one of them to never disobey their instructor.
Ninjas were military personnel. To defy orders wasn’t unlike defecting one’s country. The shaky mess of a genin was ready to bow and properly apologize after the butterfly had gracefully landed near her sensei, but her superior’s voice rang out first. Piercing deep into her mind, the words of criticism were not easy to bear. It wasn’t because Ichigo couldn’t handle it exactly, but rather, to consider her unfit was the same as calling her grandfather’s assessment of her skills as inaccurate. Each of the harsh syllables drowned her in worry not for herself, but for her family and especially the old man Akimichi. Would they have to respond for her crimes if she couldn’t find herself useful to a platoon?
Mai’s lecture caused emotions to stir within, something the akimichi always struggled with — no matter how harsh or haunting they were, they never truly surfaced. For soem reason, perhaps by instinct, Ichigo knew letting them take control of herself shouldn’t ever happen. To an onlooker, her inner reflection resembled a simple dispirited gaze towards the ground. It all changed, however, as the weight and meaning of Jin’s response to their superior registered on her high-speed pocessing, ultra-fast noggin.
“Ah! Jin-kun, don’t!” Honestly, she had already messed up. She had to at least keep him from getting dragged down because of her mess. “Mai-sensei, please don’ mind the stuff he’s sayin’! I’m sure he ain’t meanin’ it!” she walked forward and in front of Jin before bowing. “P-please, I’m the one who was openin’ stuff without knowing anythin’ about it!” Unless stopped by her team mate or after receiving a word from her mentor, she’d remain bowed forward.
[attr="class","APP3"]Little by little, the kunoichi felt her eyelids heavier. Similar to some abandoned cat in the middle of nowhere, her head weighted forward for a brief second before she suddenly pulled it back to prevent herself from falling asleep; this scene repeated itself a few times , until finally, a voice breaks the Akimichi’s bizarre adventure in the hidden rain. She jumps up, right hand swelled up in response to Anotsu’s reveal. Rather than a display of hostility, it was but a self-defense attempt from someone who had no idea where in the hell they were.
Right fist raised, she tilted her head as he mentioned her name. Scarlet eyes blinked several times within a short period of time as her mind worked three braincells per second to piece the puzzle together. Though barely visible behind her scarf, a soft pink spreads across her visage out of embarrassment. “Oh! I’m seein’ it now,” her hand deflates, returning to its original form “So me secret p-plan to lure ya out and tell me where is the Kage Tower worked. I knew it was a test, kuku!” she rests her hands on her hips, proud of her… Achievement?
“Oh ya! I was right on me way to the Kage tower. I was just thinkin’, uh…!” if only the man before her had the sharingan on him, he’d see her chakra buffer atop her head almost as if loading a video, “Ya know, I just wanted to get a better view of the rain, ya!” a terrible liar, though not an ill-meaning one. Her red hues danced across the metallic landscape, a testament to her nervousness in this situation. She couldn’t give such a bad impression to her superiors on her very first day as a kunoichi, but her embarassment was far too deep into her skin, preventing her from gazing at him comfortably.
Out of nowhere, however, her eyebrows furrowed in response to the absolutely advanced clockworks of her mind. The two random nobodies on the way here had said something, something about privacy and something kage and only they had files and — honestly speaking, she didn’t pay that much attention to their rambling. Regardless, from what her expert mindscape revealed upon digging into her memories, only the kage should have the files relating to their shinobi-
Her furrowed eyebrows raise and what’s visible of her expression displayed absolute shock. “A-are ya the Kazekage?! Only they should know about me!” Nevermind the two special jounin that brought her to Amegakure, which had disappeared from her scatterbrained mind just as quickly as they had surfaced.
[attr="class","APP3"]Red eyes peer deep into the unbreacheable abyss of the box — and to her surprise, it looked back. One of her eyebrows raised up in response to an itty-bitty drop of curiosity growing larger with every passing moment. The salivating smell of something delicious was in there, but… There was no food-
“Ahbuhagabbhuga!” at first the kunoichi instinctively tried to scream, but soon finds herself holding the box with one hand while the other shooed away the butterflies so none of them entered into her mouth by accident. Listen, she was an Akimichi and the glutton of a green haired girl could eat just about anything there was within this shinobi world, but insects were NOT in her menu.
As beautiful as the display of butterflies may have been, the buffoon of an Akimichi was far too busy spitting on the ground. None of them had managed to become her next snack, but she was just making sure. Then it seemed the world had transpired against her poor sense of judgment — which apparently was in her gut rather than her head — as their sensei had just arrived. At this point, even the intelectually-challenged Akimichi could connect the dots. An impressive amount of anime sweat stormed down her fair visage and she recklessly closes and puts the box back where she picked it up, taking advantage of Jin’s brief introduction. With a crooked smile as wide as that of a cheshire cat, she tried her best to greet Mai. When their eyes landed on her, it’s obvious something was up in the air. You see,
Ichigo was a terrible liar.
“G-good morning Jin-kun, Mai-sensei-sama!” In fact, the green-haired kunoichi was so tense that even her thick accent seemed to take a brief holiday in some beach episode, “I’m Ichigo, B-busujima Ichigo, sir! Looking forward to work with you two! I’m from Kusagakure, and want to become a strong kunoichi so I can get big just like grandpa one day!” she stood straight, one of her arms on her back and the other saluting them both. An awkward salute, typical of someone who totally did nothing wrong. It would have been the perfect introduction,
— If only a sticky note, stuck to her salluting hand, hadn’t unceremoniously fallen right before the platoon’s eyes. A long silence fills the air… Until a hungry stomach decides to interrupt it.
“Uuu…” Her little act fell apart as Ichigo hugged her belly for dear life, her face red-hot like chili peppers out of sheer embarassment.
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
[attr="class","APP3"]It was nothing short of impressive just how fast her couple of brain cells were working in these dire, dire times of need. If one looked closely at the Akimichi, they could swear a subtle vapor escaped her head — w-was she overheating!? “Uhm! I know I’m new here, and, I think l lost m-my!” the beet red glutton tried her damned best to defuse the situation before they had the attention of more people on them.
Perhaps today was her lucky day, however, because as if sent by the heavens, a boy interrupts their not so friendly discussion.
“Hmm? Wait, I know you.” As her wrinkly eyes landed on Daichi, [Kanda]’s defined muscles had disappeared, her ire temporarily contained thanks to his intervention. “Daishi, was it? I see. Sometimes you lose track of how all these kids grow up so fast…” her head bobbed, “I still remember when Hotaru visited the first time. Back then, I… Ah, here I am talking about what’s in the past again.”
A low, hearty laugh escaped wrinkly lips.
“Alright, my boy. You sound just like your father, did you know that? I’m sure he’s going to feel proud of his son’s actions. I’ll put the cost in your family’s tab.” her head bobs once more as she turns to organize the dishes before taking everything to the back for a good washing. Daichi had defused the situation single-handedly, saving a glutton from her demise —
CRASH.
A swelled up arm pierces an empty table, ripping muscles filled to the brim with youthful energy. “Is that what you thought I’d say, PUNK?!” Mrs.Kanda’s fist had opened a hole on one of the wooden tables available. Wait a moment, did her muscles double in size!? “This missy over here ate an extra-sized family meal on her own!” the old woman pointed at Ichigo with her index finger, and the grass haired kunoichi jumped on her feet in response, almost as if the finger was a legendary Akimichi-slaying spear.
“Hotaru would tear you a new one if he had to pay three times the price he pays for a full meal for his entire family!” she released a wrathful sigh between her teeth. Curled fists rested against her hips as her eyes traveled between the two. Despite her outward rage, Kanda was aware that the girl was speaking the truth. She was a new face, but she had eaten here before.
“How about this, then. You two go look for missy’s lost coin, and I get the payment I deserve byt the end of the day. If not, well…” her gaze drifts to the mountain of dishes atop the table, “You know what happens, right? Good. Get going!” she hurried them out so she could work.
With all that said and done, Ichigo trembled on her feet as she still felt the pressure of Mrs. Kanda thicc muscles. Her red hues wandered about, never gazing towards Daichi for too long. Eventually she gets over her initial fears and bows to him. “I-I’m sorry about that buddy! Ya know, I didn’t m-mean to drag ya into this…!” she’d repeat it over and over, at least until the young boy prompted her to stop.
[attr="class","APP3"] “Alright, we’ve arrived. From here, you just have to report to lady Kazekage to have your documentation and lodging sorted out. Once you're done with that — dismissed.” his instructions were curt and to the point, devoid of the warmth of home. Before she could speak up, the two special jounin responsible for conscription jogged away to escape the rain. The cold facet of their visages melted when she wasn’t a number in their social equation anymore. Mocking laughter, subtle glances backwards and a few other gestures were more than enough information. It helped the Akimichi paint together the image they had of herself, or perhaps her clan. It stung, but her eyes remained neutral.
In that late afternoon Ichigo had arrived in the hidden rain village, the one her grandpa had oh-so-many stories to tell about. All the magnificent technological feats they had achieved, the impressive sky-rendering buildings, the bustling atmosphere of people going about their daily lives — all the expectation placed upon tales that her progenitor had weaved near a fireplace, shattered at once. Perhaps arriving that day was an unlucky draw, but the skies above were clouded in darkness, and an endless torrent of water bathed the earth. Not a soul was in sight.
Her enlarged arm was used as a stand-in for a proper umbrella, and quietly she approached the bottom of one among many towering buildings. With a hoodie and her red scarf concealing her features, the grass-haired Akimichi certainly didn’t look suspicious. Her scarlet eyes glanced left and right, making sure nobody is nearby. The strong winds force the back of her jacket to take on the rhythm of a wild dance while displaying the Akimichi clan symbol on its back. This was the moment she had anticipated the most when first arriving on Amegakure. Scheming fingers of her diminutive hand dance in the air, slowly but surely approaching the target of her dubious intentions — Clunk!
“Oooh…!” The thump of metal reverberated, but soon was drowned out by the ongoing rain. Expressionless hues blinked several times, incredulous at the feeling of metal. She poked the building again, then again — at this point she bounced like a child that had found their new toy — and until she finds satisfaction in confirming the towers really were made of metal. She turned around, vigor renewed, chest puffed up and posture straight.
The buildings stretched far beyond her gaze could reach; any of them might as well be the Kage’s tower. “Of course, I’m seein’ it now… This is a test. They wanna know if I’m up to the task…!” step by step she marches on, further and further away from her target building — the one right behind herself.
.⠀.⠀.
“…Hmm. Maybe this ninja stuff ain’t for me, after all...” Hours went by and the lingering daylight above the clouds was gone, darkening the hidden rain and lighting up neon lights all over the scenery. In her first day in the rain, Ichigo was lost and had met the first obstacle of adversity in her path. Hidden away in an alley and amidst a labyrinth of metallic and disorderly buildings, she finds solace from the downpour in this alien environment.
[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","APP3"]In a small stream of people going about their business on a lazy sunday, a certain kunoichi walked with a vivacious pep to each of her steps. It had been a few days since she had arrived in Amegakure, but the akimichi had already acclimated herself to her new environment rather quickly. Save for the humidity. That always sucked, no matter where.
But humidity, not today!
Her deadpan visage was no more in this fine clear morning, instead, a soft pink adorned her cheeks right under expressive and happy eyes. Light azure stretched above as far as the eyes could see, and the sun casted uneven lights and shadows beneath. One could argue the fine weather was the major reason for Ichigo’s joyful mood, but nay — the reason was safely clutched by her hands.
“Ehehe, moo-chan’s lookin’ real plump!” she raised her hands to eye-level, staring at a tiny — but rather stuffed — [purse] shaped like a cow. “All of ‘em missions and hard work is payin’ off!” she spun on her heels, raising the purse high as she wondered what kind of food she’d treat herself with today. After she stored the purse on her pocket, however, it unceremoniously fell due to her clumsy handling. The jingle of coin was drowned out by the people around, and the Akimichi moved on while unaware of her loss.
.⠀.⠀.
“… Young girl, can you even pay for all of that?” The wrinkly eyes of an old woman peer down on the green-haired girl that had absolutely stuffed herself with a wide variety of home-made food. Remnants of grains, meat, vegetables, sauces and everything in between; several bowls were left empty atop the table, a sight akin to the aftermath of war. A goofy and satisfied smile was drawn on her lips.
The kunoichi glances at the owner of the family diner to give her an affirmative nod. “Yup. I’m mighty sure I got more than enough to pay ya!” her eyes scan the table, and then it begins. The kunoichi goes through intense focus, steady breathing, concentration and harmony between mind and body before she opened her eyes, a bottomless determination clearly visible on her scarlet hues, and then…
It was a magnificent display of how much she had been improving her smarts ever since she had arrived on the hidden rain. “Umu, this be lookin’ good! I could go for plenty more, but this gotta be enough for…now…?” she pats the pocket of her shorts, but nothing. Right! She probably put it on the other one?
Nothing.
Copious beads of sweat storm down her fair skin. “Uhm…I, uh, can explain…! Ya know, I have this purse, and… and…!” Trembling like a sheep before its predator, the kunoichi stammered non-stop. Her hands danced erratically across all pockets on her clothes, but it appeared Moo-chan had forsaken her. A chill ran down her spine as she turned to look at the owner, whose shaded face and ripped arms were worth more than a thousand words. What a terrible, terrible twist of fate.
If only someone super cool saved her from this situation.
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","APP3"]Pink stretched as far as the eye could see. Mystical glittering clouds were everywhere, hiding the sharper details of the mysterious landscape before her. She floated aimlessly in this unknown realm, but soon found herself a new goal in the distance. Beyond the pink and the glittering clouds was a gigantic piece of grilled pork chop. Her heart started racing, adrenaline rushed inside her veins and she soon found herself bouncing from one cloud to another, desperate and ready to dig in the juicy meat. So close, so close!
THUD.
"Uuuu..." A painful groan escaped her lips. Alas, she's met with the cold harsh reality of a wooden floor face first - a sweet dream, gone in an instant. Truth be told, the pain wasn't even physical because she had plenty of cushioning to soften her fall. Instead, it derived from her heart, shattered in pieces by the prospect of giant piece of meat-kun being just a projection of her desires. After a few moments of sincere lamentation over her loss, the Akimichi's two brain cells connected with one another at long last; she was late! An audible and guttural gasp later, she rushed to get ready.
.⠀.⠀.
From within a mad labyrinth of iron she emerged, rushing and jumping over metallic stairs, sometimes even sliding down the hand rails to propel herself faster towards their rendezvous point; a huge radio dish northeast of the village. It was one of many devices that allowed the cutting edge communication technology of the rain to thrive, hidden amidst a maze of disorderly misaligned buildings. The fear of arriving late had clouded her mind, and she spared no brainpower to wonder if she would get along with her fellow platoon members or not.
Hands up and waving in the air she arrived, "I'm sorry buddy...! Platoon two... right?" The greenette exclaimed as her sprint came to an abrupt end near her team mate. Hands resting on her knees and panting like her life was on the line, only then did Ichigo realize she had no breakfast. "... Uh? Where's our sensei?" Her red hues scan about, looking for the one responsible for both of them. Nothing.
"It's, uh, m-mighty nice to meetcha. I'm Ichigo, uhm, Busujima I...chi...go?!" Her attention slipped away from Jin, as her head bobbed and her nostrils sniffed the inviting smell somewhere nearby. To an onlooker, she could easily be mistaken for an Inuzuka clan member. At long last the kunoichi found the source, but seriously pondered whether or not to open the box. Ichigo stared, poked, bonked, and even rolled around the box, the inner workings of her mind running at an impressive rate of two brain cells per second. Finally, she comes to a decision.
"Team mate-kun, forgive meself...! If Jin, or nobody else stopped her, the scatterbrained kunoichi would open the chest without pondering about the consequences of ignoring the sticky note. Her stomach roared for something, anything to eat.
"You ain't a ninja if yer not willin' to take risks, right?!"
[attr="class","APP3"]Little by little, the kunoichi felt her eyelids heavier. Similar to some abandoned cat in the middle of nowhere, her head weighted forward for a brief second before she suddenly pulled it back to prevent herself from falling asleep; this scene repeated itself a few times , until finally, a voice breaks the Akimichi’s bizarre adventure in the hidden rain. She jumps up, right hand swelled up in response to Anotsu’s reveal. Rather than a display of hostility, it was but a self-defense attempt from someone who had no idea where in the hell they were.
Right fist raised, she tilted her head as he mentioned her name. Scarlet eyes blinked several times within a short period of time as her mind worked three braincells per second to piece the puzzle together. Though barely visible behind her scarf, a soft pink spreads across her visage out of embarrassment. “Oh! I’m seein’ it now,” her hand deflates, returning to its original form “So me secret p-plan to lure ya out and tell me where is the Kage Tower worked. I knew it was a test, kuku!” she rests her hands on her hips, proud of her… Achievement?
“Oh ya! I was right on me way to the Kage tower. I was just thinkin’, uh…!” if only the man before her had the sharingan on him, he’d see her chakra buffer atop her head almost as if loading a video, “Ya know, I just wanted to get a better view of the rain, ya!” a terrible liar, though not an ill-meaning one. Her red hues danced across the metallic landscape, a testament to her nervousness in this situation. She couldn’t give such a bad impression to her superiors on her very first day as a kunoichi, but her embarassment was far too deep into her skin, preventing her from gazing at him comfortably.
Out of nowhere, however, her eyebrows furrowed in response to the absolutely advanced clockworks of her mind. The two random nobodies on the way here had said something, something about privacy and something kage and only they had files and — honestly speaking, she didn’t pay that much attention to their rambling. Regardless, from what her expert mindscape revealed upon digging into her memories, only the kage should have the files relating to their shinobi-
Her furrowed eyebrows raise and what’s visible of her expression displayed absolute shock. “A-are ya the Kazekage?! Only they should know about me!” Nevermind the two special jounin that brought her to Amegakure, which had disappeared from her scatterbrained mind just as quickly as they had surfaced.
Far away from the metallic skyscrapers vying to touch the azure above, Ichigo was born amidst peace and calm. Having been blessed with a solid family and clan upon arriving in this world, she had very little to complain from the get go; luxury was something they could not afford, but god forbid anything lesser than a feast should be atop the dining table. Her days were filled with farm work, though she had a bad habit of checking grandpa’s super secret stash of scrolls hidden away in a tiny underground room, near the oldest and decrepit barn.
They had detailed instructions on many things, all of them coming back to one main subject; Shinobi. Ichigo’s curiosity was not fed by the need or desire to become one, but perhaps to better understand the world outside of her small safe haven. Above all else, however, she sought answers for the small bumps on her forehead.
Her family were lonvingly sweet people. Beyond the lectures dealt like any parent and family needs to discipline their young, she never had anything to complain about them. Yet every time she asked about the funny bumpy things on her head, they fell silent. Uncomfortable. Subjects changed and curiosity hushed, the days carried on as she learned more about the craft of a soldier, of the Akimichi, in secret (more often than not, with the sneaky help of grandpa). Whereas most children needed guidance within their academy years, Ichigo evolved quickly on her own every day. Her hues consumed each parchment with unparalled voracity to find something, anything to explain her current predicament — unfortunately, she often forgot the theoretical side of things, learning instead by physical training.
Even after the content in grandpa’s secret stash had long expired, she had never reached a satisfying answer to the origin of her curse. Regardless, the constant training had become an important activity in her life. She continued honing her skills and learning the clan’s secret techniques, adamant in saying it was just to pass the time, which was abundant in the boring farm life.
Nearing her eighteenth birthday, however, the girl’s secret was revealed across her circle of friends. Oni, they said, running away as though she was a monster ready to gobble them up. Dumb oni, they mocked, as they stole the scrolls she held so dear. These pranks could only go for so long until Ichigo snapped, and in a fateful day two bullies were never the same; one had been punched so hard it almost looked like he had a third cheek, and the other walked at an impressive ten feet per hour, hands clutching the content between his legs. The use of shinobi arts against civilians caught the eyes of the military outpost, but she received a deal — join the ranks of shinobi in Amegakure, and they might just overlook that tiny incident.
About
A loud and excitable country bumpkin straight from Kusagakure. Drafted into shinobi service after using her clan techniques for totally legit reasons, Ichigo finds herself in a world that's not quite what she's used to considering the technology labyrinth known as Amegakure. She's a hyperactive girl that seems to never run out of fuel, and has a bottomless desire to improve and someday beat her grandfather in a fight. An absolute lover of meat, humor, hugs, jokes and puns of all kinds. Not very fond of fish, riddles (it's sorcery), being alone and tends to just lay low and die metaphorically when the dreaded humidity is at its peak.
Standing at an average height of five feet and five inches, Ichigo has a tomboyish attitude and doesn't seem to concern herself that much with feminine mannerisms or habits. Often dons a [light blue kimono] and a bodysuit underneath; ninja sandals and leg warmers that go up to just below her knees. She wears her snow-white hair in twintails, adorned with her clan's special weapon as accessories. They're also around her wrists, ankles and waist as accessories and a belt respectively.
honest; raised to be a sincere kid ever since forever ago, Ichigo just can’t bring herself to jump through hoops for the sake of scheming. It’s much more likely for her to do something productive rather than trying to cook up some half-assed lie.
vivacious; wherever she goes, Ichigo always brings a lively atmosphere along. Her bright smile, optimistic viewpoints and positive affirmation often makes her the center of small social gatherings, even when she's not very fond of the attention. Needless to say, she’s a complete social butterfly and will not think twice before striking up conversation with someone that catches her eyes. She’s especially fond of poking the quiet types.
big-hearted; even when she doesn’t have plentiful of resources to share, ichigo does not mind extending a hand to someone in need. She’s a good-natured girl that sincerely believes in the good within people and does not judge them for misdeeds, regrets, and grudges left in the past.
loud; One has to wonder just how in the hell someone like Ichigo has managed to become a kunoichi. She’s boisterous beyond belief and tends to raise her voice when her emotions reach their peak. Her general behavior clashes with most atmospheres that require silence, respect, or anything in between.
stoic; despite being a kind and generous individual, Ichigo rarely lets her emotions take a hold of her. she’s more than capable of taking the lemons thrown her way by life without faltering or complaining. when more sensitive and complicated matters are at stake, she tends to train, train, train some more and then do some training — until her three braincells forget it. Should her training not be enough, she’s not against asking a friend for help.
hyperactive; she has a real hard time doing some boring task for however long it is needed. Ichigo tries her best to busy herself with something, though she just can’t bring herself to continue doing it for too long.
no thoughts, head empty; to put it bluntly, Ichigo is not the sharpest kunai in the rain. thoughts or concerns rarely plague her mindscape and sometimes it feels like her mind’s in the moon rather than engaged in a conversation or activity. Ichigo is a little bothered by this, and whenever the worries and insecurities about her intellect arise, she tends to bury herself into books and scrolls — only to forget everything she’s learned shortly thereafter. the effort and desire to improve her smarts are there, but her braincells are not.
aimless; majority of her fellow shinobi are ambitious, and Ichigo often finds them unrelatable in that regard. Rather than having some major motivation to become a shinobi, the young Akimichi finds herself in the rough life of a ninja because of chance. After unintentionally becoming a kunoichi through pure random circumstances, she has yet to set her sights on any goals for her life. As long as she’s not bored, hungry, and get to train some, everything is fine for the most part.
glutton; true to the roots of her clan and the curse running in her veins, Ichigo is not a girl whose heartstrings are moved by flowers or romance; a juicy wagyu chop is way more likely to get the message across. it’s not far fetched to estimate that more than a whopping fifty percent of her tiny genin income is dedicated just for the fleshy goodness. But if the nutrients aren’t going to her braincells, then…
…It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where they go instead, right?
chatterbox; all it takes is establishing an affable foundation and nudging her in the right direction. Should those requirements be met, you’d be surprised just how much she can blather on.
protective/possessive; she rarely hesitates to help people, though she’s more than willing to go a step further and beyond for her friends and her village. in some rare cases, this trait often devolves into an overprotective mindset that WILL take note of a friend’s smile being shorter by 0.001cm and she will thoroughly convince herself that something is bothering them for sure.
Cursed blood runs in her veins. Whether because of her clan's abuse of nature back in ages past or scorn brought about by endless gluttony, Ichigo carries the oni's mark. Two small bumps on her forehead and sharper than average canines have already been revealed, and it's only a matter of time before the next stage begins.
「秋道秘伝」Akimichi Hijutsu [Rookie] ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⮡⠀⠀⠀Calorie Control
Ichigo has practiced extensively to reach this proficiency level in the secret art of her clan, yet she still has so much to learn and work upon. A sea of inconsistencies that have yet to be hammered out by time and experience linger on her way and there's no beaten path ahead. She can partially grow limbs (one at a time) and the weapons they hold for brief periods and surprise attacks, but the size isn't anything to brag about and the chakra cost isn't friendly at all.
「荒繰鷺伐刀」Akurobatto [Rookie] ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⮡⠀⠀⠀Acrobat
Her taijutsu boils down to always be on the move. Heavily reminiscent of capoeira, majority of her attacks lean towards the usage of acrobatics and powerful kicks — though she's no stranger to throwing a punch if the need arises. That said, she still has a long way to go if she intends to master this fighting style, passed down to her by her beloved grandfather. Though she can perform most of the physically straining acrobatics just fine, an experienced onlooker can tell she still follows predictable patterns and sometimes her body's weight doesn't quite transfer to her kicks.
Ichigo has a rather uncommon choice of weapon among shinobi — they are bouncy, ping pong-sized balls made by the Akimichi. She can pitch them at about the parameters as your average kunai throw, and getting hit by them feels like getting a light punch. Her bukijutsu is quite intertwined with her taijutsu: when fighting at melee range, she takes on a defensive approach waiting for the right chance to either pitch or kick one of the balls at the enemy — or even better, land an actual punch or kick, whatever works best. She carries a few of them strung together on her waist as a 'belt', and as accessories on her wrists, ankles and hair.
⮡⠀⠀⠀ Size Expansion — As a weapon made by the Akimichi, these balls can have their size and weight increased. At her current tier, Ichigo can increase their paramaters up to about the size of a space hopper ball, and about 1/4 of her weight as ball weight increment. The user has to weave a one-handed tiger seal (two-handed if both size and weight are changed) to change the properties of a bouncing ball. She can only change the size and weight of one ball at a time.
A skill she acquired creeping up on small animals when hunting back home. Needless to say, it's the bare minimum to work with in the ninja world. It's not her preferred method of going about things, and it's unlikely she'll get any better than this considering future development.
Named after the bamboo cutter in the tale of Kaguya-hime no Monogatari, the Taketori (竹取物語, lit. Bamboo Cutter) are a relatively new and small clan when compared to the many ancient clans across the world. Founded when Kusagakure joined forces with Amegakure on the first war between the Sand and the Rain, the Taketori were stock farmers before being drafted into Amegakure’s forces. Crucial to home defense, they made use of their ingenuity and grass manipulation hijutsu to defend the land and produce reliable bamboo weaponry to circumvent metal shortages. Since then, they have spread throughout the five nations. While they were well renowned for their efforts about a generation or two ago, they are slowly falling from grace after a long period without raising any notable individuals. Because of this, combined with their less-than-noble looking art, many consider them laughing stock (got it? stock farmers, grass!) and country bumpkins these days.
Hijutsu
Grass Manipulation The Taketori are specialists on the use and manipulation of various grass types. Best known for their subtle, precise and reliable techniques, their Hijutsu is not grandiose nor intimidating in nature. Users at the starting ranks can manipulate and weaponize small blades of common grass, making small ninja tools like senbon. More stealthy approaches can also be taken, such as turning a patch of green between the user and the enemy into an impromptu caltrops-like trap that is really hard to spot in the heat of battle.
As the user progresses through the ranks, they can manipulate a greater variety of grass, such as fragrant ornamental grass for olfactory genjutsu; some further empower the toughness of their common grass to restrain enemies or use them as medium for fuinjutsu. Grandmasters are known to be capable of growing bamboo stems at such insane speeds they can pierce their enemies like massive spears. It’s a long standing tradition for clan members to use weapons made out of their signature bamboo, and a Taketori is considered a full-fledged member of the clan when they can craft their own.
⠀Proficiencies
