Peaceful day in Konoha ( open, NK )

Sanji walked through the bustling streets of Konoha's market sector, listening to the pitches of various merchants as they advertise their wares to passers by with limited interest. He looked around at the idyllic scene, rather pleased with just being able to watch the citizens of the village go about their daily lives. Striding idly down the street, he comes to one merchant stand in particular, a friendly elderly lady encouraged him to peruse her wares. Like an impromptu general store, she had various wares, from food to medicine, even good luck charms. One thing caught his eye in particular, a rabbit's paw good luck charm." Oh! A wise choice! This charm will surely bring you good luck, a great thing to have on your side as a shinobi, hmm?" she said. He looked at it with that trademark deadpan expression." How lucky could it be if the rabbit's luck was so poor that it lost its paw for this to be made?" He asked bluntly. She coughed and grumbled, taking the charm right out of his hand." A smart alec, eh? If that's your attitude then you deserve bad luck!" she says. Clearly that nice exterior was only meant to woo passers by into looking at and purchasing her wares.

Sanji sighed and walked away from the stand, and heard her go right back into her sales pitch." How can one change her face so quickly?" he thought. Coming to another stand he saw a myriad of fresh fish caught just this morning before his eyes, a gruff-looking fishmonger standing with his arms crossed as he eyed Sanji." You buying or just staring?" said the man. Sanji looked at him, then what he had on hand. Seems he had some cooked fish on hand too. He pointed to some teriyaki salmon and said," I'd like some of that, please." The man nodded, packaged up a slice of the salmon, and Sanji tendered payment for it before taking it and walking away." Not very friendly but at least he's honest about it." thought Sanji, before eating his snack as he continued down the street.

Sanji looked around the village as he walked through its streets, at the smiling faces that it contained, and it made him feel good for the tiny part he may have played in keeping those smiling faces where they were. But even now as he walked back home to his mother's also smiling face, he had to face the truth. No one ever saw her, no one even associated with her. The reason for that was that she wasn't actually there at all. Sanji had been able to requisition the housing arrangement of his parents to be put in her name because he created a clone that looked like her and signed the paper upon his father's death. But she wasn't really there. This simple ruse was there to pull the wool over everyone's eyes. Sanji was alone. His mother killed herself shortly after learning of his father's death in combat. His mind wandered back to that old lady selling good luck charms among other trinkets, and how he asked what luck it could bring if the rabbit lost its foot for that to be made. Her response still resounded in his head." A smart alec, eh? If that's your attitude then you deserve bad luck!" His expression soured as he continued on his way home." I deserve it? Maybe... Being born is a horrible crime, after all." He thought with derisive anguish.

He tried his best to live vicariously through children he saw with their mothers, but it was an empty joy at best. And as he walked through town, he could see the looks he got. He wasn't well-liked by anyone, nor hated. He was just that overgrown shinobi kid. He had come to terms with the fact that nothing would change their minds about him. He didn't know how to and he wasn't sure it was worth the effort. Now more than ever he felt it silly to keep living that lie, to the point where he once did a clone and henge jutsu unbeknownst to a mere acquaintance to make a voice that sounded like his mother's yell a 'welcome home, sanji-kun!". But it wasn't really her, it was all him. Sachiko, a female genin he had briefly sparred with and spent some time with afterward at Ichiraku Ramen was his dearest acquaintance at this point. But he had no idea where she was now, he had looked for her as well as asked her mother. She didn't tell him anything. Sanji simply took this as a sobering fact that Sachiko didn't really care to indulge in his company any longer. That's her choice, it's perfectly fine, after a while one grows used to such things. But it didn't make him feel any better about it.

Nothing he said or did made anyone like him much better than modest regards over some mission he accomplished or something he gave someone. He tried to pour his heart out in his own way to those who didn't have it as good as he did. So as he approached the doorstep, there was no 'welcome home' to keep this silly ruse alive, for his sake or anyone else's. There was just Sanji, unlocking the door to his empty house, a house that contained only memories of days that were as dead as his parents. His family. He didn't even know of another Sanada in Konoha, much less anywhere else. If he did it was likely they weren't related. His footfalls resounded in the empty house, outfitted with only the bare essentials for him to survive. He had simple foodstocks and utensils, and a fireplace he cooked in, fueled with wood he foraged or cut in the woods. It wasn't glamorous, he didn't have the money to make it much more than it was now, he didn't come from a wealthy background and there was no inheritance. In the living room floor was his futon which he neglected to roll up this morning after waking up, with no one around to scold him for it he just left it there. He didn't sleep in his room anymore, there was no point.

When he pulled off his boots after entering he set them by the step up into the living room and shut the door before slipping his cloak off. Another rip in his pants, he'd have to buy more soon. But it wasn't the same. Just clothing he'd buy for himself because no one else would buy it for him. No one thought to because no one knew of his need as a human being. Life as a tool is hard when you have no escape outside of your own mind from that existence. The wolves he brought back with him from his training journey were dear to him, but in the end he took them back to where he got them from, it wasn't fair to take them from their home. The first few days taught him that, they didn't seem comfortable in the village and it was cruel for him to keep them there just to make himself feel less lonely. Oh how hard it was leaving them, but after some coercing, they didn't follow. They would always have that bit of time they spent together, though. That was one comforting thought Sanji had. Would they recognize him if he went out there a second time? Who knows.

Sanji walked to the kitchen and sighed a heavy sigh as he grabbed some cup noodles, opening the top before grabbing a beat up old kettle he salvaged from the garbage he cleaned up not too long ago. Sanji started by filling the kettle with water he hung it over the fireplace, and then he proceeded to throw another log on the fire to make sure it'd stay going for a while. When the kettle whistled at last, Sanji poured some of the water in his cup noodles and left them to steep before he made himself some tea with what remained of the water. A meal for one. Inside the confines of his home he didn't need to keep the ruse of that cold, marbled exterior anymore. So as he sat down on the floor in front of the fire to eat his lonely meal, he sobbed softly, wiping his eyes desperately as if that would extinguish the anguish of feeling like the last person on the planet. But it didn't. No, it only saved his face from feeling the chill of the air evaporating the moisture from his cheeks, for there was no other hand to wipe the tears from his face.

Even if he looked like a grown man because of his outrageous early growth, he was still just a kid. Even if society recognized him as an adult because he'd gotten through the academy and became a ninja, he was still just a lonely kid. The only thing showing he ever had anyone was a single family picture in a beat up old frame hanging on the wall, the glass in it gone from that night his mother smashed it for something sharp enough to slit her own wrists and expire in the bathtub quietly when Sanji was out on a mission. The only others who knew about her death were higher ups in the Hokage's office. He only told them and let them quietly investigate so they wouldn't think he had murdered her. He used that gloved hand to once more dry his eyes, practically having to force himself to eat those first few bites of food. But eventually it went down. He laid in front of the fire and stared into the flames wondering just what kept him hanging on. Perhaps it's all those smiling faces he sometimes tries to live out an unreachable fantasy through as he strolls through the village. He did have some small part in it, after all. Was it enough to sustain him? Time would tell. Right now it wasn't looking good for him, though.[exit]