Fresh Meat [P,NK]

Iwagakure. Not much to say about this village apart from its' obvious reduction in power since a few months back it now seemed as if this village was almost barren and forgotten. Thankfully places like the market still remained, but there was still absolutely fuck all to do and that got to a man like Akira. Who wasn't known much for his activity but still preferred SOMETHING to do here. Hardly any missions were published and honestly Genin were hard to come by. Seemed as if the youth of Iwagakure no longer wanted to become ninja. 

The black haired man trudged down the market path, hands buried into the pockets of his trench coat, this attire usually blended in with the night-shift he was so used to having, a nod to the ANBU troops of the larger villages. 

"Ever since that Yamanaka chick came into power this village's gotten so slow..." He pondered to himself. Nonetheless he figured it was time that he grabbed something to gnaw on. After all it was a market and he wouldn't exactly be in the right mindset if he came here and didn't buy some of the food on offer. 

He wandered over to a peking duck vendor. And then a lamb wrap vendor, and then a ramen shop and several other food shops before he made his way towards the now-neglected training grounds which now made a pretty good place to enjoy a meal in peace.

Taking a seat on the bench he unpacked his rather large bag of comestibles, and began feasting on them a little akin to somebody who hadn't eaten in a week. Except he ate about 4 hours ago. Then again even this rather surprising mountain of food was less than he usually ate. Bits of food dropped as he devoured his food like some form of rabid dog, hands moving at what seemed like a million miles per hour as he grabbed a portion of seemingly everything he ordered at once. He was then planning to use this energy for some training, after all the only way is up, right? Especially since he still hadn't reached his full potential, after all becoming a Jounin at 17 was no easy feat. Being 18 now he had to break all the barriers to get stronger. And hopefully this massive payload of calories would suffice.

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Azami let out a gentle sigh of exasperation as she made her way curtly down the dirt path winding around the relatively large training grounds. Encompassing the area were multiple large boulders, a handful of trees, and many dirt paths which circled and intertwined within the area. The small petite girl walked a bit more briskly now, her legs carrying her at a decent and wholesome pace as her small figure took step after step along the path.

Azami appeared to be your typical sixteen year old girl in terms of height and size. Standing at approximately five feet and two inches tall, she might have even been considered somewhat tall when compared to most girls. However, her height was roughly average compared to most shinobi in general. Her slim and slender body toted relatively perky breasts as well as a butt that was pert and properly proportionate to the rest of her body. Over-all, her proportions were about where they should be and looked rather nice with regards to the rest of her physique. Nothing really stood out awkwardly or appeared out of place with regards to her shape.

When it came to her face it was just as properly proportioned as the rest of her. Her eyes were relatively round and bright, taking on the color of blue. They appeared almost ocean-like, if not a little more blue than the ocean. Perhaps it would be more suitable to compare them to a clear day's sky. Moving further down was her small, well-shaped nose right above her constantly pursed full lips which were often curved into a gentle smile that has a soothing and calming effect on those that it was shown to. On the top of her head began her soft blonde hair which cascaded down along her shoulders to the top of her chest like minuscule rays of sunlight shining down her body. Her hair was a golden hue and looked almost as pure as the blue of her eyes.

Azami looked around her, her bright blue eyes scanning the surrounding area as if she were searching for something, or more-so someone. She glanced at a nearby gentleman whom appeared quite esteemed and of decent rank. Although she could not tell this by simply glancing at him, she could slowly come to recognize his great presence the more she examined his stature and radiance. She walked over to where the man stood, stopping a mere six feet away from him before raising her hand to give a gentle wave, her eyes monotone and dulled, yet vibrantly bright. Her lips slowly curved into a soft smile that seemed almost mechanical and fake in nature. Upon first glance, one could easily tell that she was faking the smile if they were perceptive enough.

Azami was presently an extremely apathetic and emotionally distant person. That was not to say that she had no emotions, on the contrary, she would occasionally feel things such as excitement and sadness but never, if not rarely, did these emotions show on her outward appearance. She would almost never smile and almost never showed a full frown or cry. She was certainly not the type to yell, either. She rarely raised her voice and would often speak in a simple, soft, monotone voice that people often had to be quiet in order to hear. She would not repeat herself if someone missed what she said, either, which often led many to get frustrated or angry with her.

Furthermore, besides her apathy, she was extremely mentally ill in every sense of the word. Her favorite food, after all, was human beings. She enjoyed eating and munching on human flesh and drinking human blood, something that had caused her to become an outcast of sorts, wondering if she would ever find someone in her home village who would accept her way of life and treat her as a normal human being. She did not see how horrid her actions were and lacked an actual conscience, leading her to act without guilt, free from such typical human attributes. She would often fight to kill then feast on her opponent's dead corpse; or living corpse, if they somehow survived.

Azami opened her pursed lips, parting them so that she may speak fluently and calmly. "My name is Azami. It is nice to make your acquaintance." she murmured in her quiet, monotone voice which carried mere feet but seemed to drop off after that distance. She spoke quite formerly for someone of her age and it seemed almost fake, though it was more or less accurate to her position and opinion of the man thus far. She was giving him the appropriate amount of kindness and respect, she presumed. After all, he seemed to be her superior both in rank and age. She could not be disrespectful or rude to such a person. Could she? Azami figured that she could be so, however, it was out of the ordinary. And the last thing she wanted to seem was odd.

[839 words]

There wasn't too much to say about Akira's appearance, standing at a very acceptable 5'11" he was kitted out with a black trench coat, gloves a set of black combat pants and a pair of boots, not much a fan of the ninja sandals usually used. He had hair as dark as dark could get, and almost looked purple in the right kind of light. His eyes were a stunning shade of deep blue, almost a deep violet with black pupils sitting in the middle. Granted people could say he was an attractive man, with good musculature for a ninja and a well-defined collarbone he seemed to have the right physical appearance to be a jounin. Young, talented and determined when he needs to be. Akira Shinkou was definitely one of the more treasured Jounin in Iwagakure. But right now he wasn't in any business, he was just here making sure he could devour all of this food and get his sustenance for the day.

In terms of personality, he was a rather relaxed man, often times pretty quiet and preferring to walk the walk instead of talking the talk. But his laziness often annoyed his peers, as he was the kind of person to complain at having to do something monotonous. so he lacked a "get up and go" mentality. He'd pick up the slack no problem if he was in danger though.

He looked up mid-way through his lamb wrap at the woman who was infront of him. She was kind of cute, blonde hair, almost perfect, proportionate curves. She definitely didn't look 18 though, so he wasn't going to be doing any perverted stuff. After all he did have an image he tried to maintain, he couldn't resist giving her a little looksy though.

"Azami, huh?" He repeated to himself with a smile, a few crumbs of food still left on the corner of his lips as he spoke, his mouth not full however, just some stuff he didn't wipe off. "So you a Genin round these parts? I think I might've seen your name in the records." He asked with a friendly smirk, obviously not warming up too much, he had to show some composure as her senior in both age and rank. He took another bite of the wrap as he waited for her answer. 

In truth, he never really had a Genin team of his own. The young people here no longer really wanted to become ninja anymore, probably over all the changes of leaderships and the attacks that Iwagakure were exposed to. It was definitely a good reason to reconsider it. But even then it made jobs even as a Jounin hard to obtain. Even a 1 on 1 tutelage would suffice for him, anything to save him from another boring day patrolling with an occasional bounty hunt to replace the village's lack of designated Special Forces.

Nevertheless it was interesting finally seeing a Genin around. He couldn't recognize her being on any of the team lists, either she was new or undrafted. One or the other. 

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