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Satoru NaraMissing-Nin (D-rank)
- Stat Page : Stat Page
Summoning Contract : Salamanders of Rain Country
Village : Missing Ninja
Ryo : 10650
!["It hasn't been that long, right?" [P] Empty](https://2img.net/i/empty.gif)
"It hasn't been that long, right?" [P]
Sun Jan 15, 2017 7:48 pm
The day is sluggish and drowsy. Through the blanket of clouds in the sky, the sun is located behind a large bright blurred spot that is not bright enough to irritate the eyes. These clouds that keep the blue expanse out of view are not so dark that one would call them overcast but are not white enough to make the sun as clear as it would be without obstruction. Not an opening in the wall of clouds can be found but some lines of separation between sections are seen as they pass over the spot where the sun resides. When the clouds drift, a slight increase in the amount of light coming through the sky increases for a short time before the source of light is covered completely once again.
As the village people of Hoshigakure roam the streets, some might say that the day could be sunnier, that an unobstructed sun would lift their spirits just a nudge higher. From Shiro’s perspective though, this day is fine the way it is. He imagines the unbridled sun radiating its light with no clouds in the sky to bridle it.
“That would disturb me.” Shiro tells himself, walking down the side of a road. There are few villagers around him or on the street at all. “Today, I feel exceptionally relaxed and the weather compliments this. While I do enjoy the heat of the sun upon my skin, bright lights are not what I want to see now. The sky is as relaxed as I am. Rather than radiate with happiness, it is serene and I am serene.”
This area of the village is a shopping center without many visitors, scheduled to be redesigned for a more modern look and new products to attract customers. The few people who are here walk around just for the quiet atmosphere. Shiro is doing the same. He carries little money with him and does not plan on making any purchases. There are stands in this area with the ones running them lounging with their feet up on the counter. The probability of a customer actually wanting to buy anything is low enough for this sort of behavior.
Another reason as to why Shiro is taking a walk through this area involves his newly uncovered memories. After more than a year refusing to let the thoughts of his parents, Genri, and the dead priests come to mind, the experiences are now fully accessible with detail. Around the time of the occurrence, this shopping center was more alive. Shiro and Genri were returning customers, purchasing items to be used for a private makeshift training exercise. With Genri no longer so prominent an influence on his mind, Shiro reasons that a stroll through this shopping center will raise his spirits.
“No help.” Shiro thinks simply. He stops to turn and look around at the area. Not a single sight brings about a warm familiarity. “It would seem as though these memories are forever tainted by Genri. I cannot seem to find pleasure in any past experience in which I had a smile on my face while he was also with me. However…” He continues to walk forward with his hands halfway into his pockets. “While I do not quite see it clearly, there is some memory of walking along this street with a person other than Genri. At that time, I was happier than the recollections I’m trying to recreate now. Who was I with at that time?”
On the other side of the street, Shiro catches a familiar sight. A stand selling dango with seven seats in front of its counter. The chef within the stand is hard at work filling orders for patrons who sit in a seat to enjoy their food or leave to continue their own strolls. Seeing this, Shiro is drawn to the stand, suddenly craving this snack. In his head, a lightbulb flickers as he makes his way across the street.
“That’s right, the two of us would come here so often. Both of us enjoyed each other’s company quite well.” He arrives behind two customers making their orders at one side of the counter.
The smell of hot cooking rice flour and green tea permeates the air round the stand. With what little money Shiro has brought with him, he is now set upon picking up at least one stick of dango before going on his way. In a short time, he finds himself next to place an order. Being to the far right of the wide wooden counter, there is a row of seven customers enjoying their food. Behind the counter, the chef manipulates multiple stations each filling its own order. In time, the man makes his way towards Shiro who is prepared to order.
“What can I get for you?” The chef asks, a small book and writing utensil in hand. He writes in what Shiro guesses to be his order number.
“I’ll have mitarashi, just one please.” Shiro gives the first flavor that comes to mind. With no recollection of how mitarashi dango tastes, this order is an involuntary reaction to a sudden want for this specific flavor. At a time before this, Shiro would have stopped himself and wondered why mitarashi was such a fine flavor and why it came to mind first out of all of the others. After having obtained more mental silence though, these questions do not cloud his flow forward and he allows whatever is going to happen to take its course.
“One mitarashi. Give me a moment.” The chef steps back after writing this order into his book and proceeds to fill the order. There are multiple sticks upon a grill with mochiko already cooking on them. One of these will be Shiro’s order.
After a moment of waiting, Shiro’s order is brought to him. From his back pocket, he removes a black wallet from which Shiro brings the appropriate amount of money to cover the cost of his order. It is handed to the chef who accepts it. Shiro thanks the man before placing his wallet back into his pocket, lifting the dango wrapped in aluminum foil, and turning to continue walking down the side of the road.
The dango is in his left hand while his right begins to unwrap the foil. While doing so, he begins to delve into thought. His steps slow down behind the customers sitting in front of the counter. Shiro looks down at the snack in his hands.
“I feel as though this dango shop almost made me happy. There was a nudge. But the dango is only indirectly related to… someone who I can’t quite put my finger on. If I could only see something with a deeper connection to the past that I am still hazy on remembering. Maybe then I might be able to draw a line between what I’m trying to recollect.” Thinking that a taste of this food that Shiro now knows he delighted in eating might provide this more profound tie, he takes one bite. The dango is sweet with a pleasantly burnt fragrance. After eating one segment of the five stack, there is no notable change. The taste of the food that should be very familiar to him is not so familiar that it might cause him to remember a buried memory. Despite having regained a majority of his past, there is but one part that he fails to bring back to mind. He knows at least that it is a person he is attempting to induce back into his memory. Shiro takes a second segment. “This is doing nothing.”
Discouragement nearly grows in him before a voice stops his in stride. The voice is female and the tone melts away Shiro’s negative outlook. In its place, a gleam of positive emotion slowly blossoms and is distinguished greatly within what looked to be endless depression. With every word, this glint grows in volume and illuminates more of his emotional state. “That did something.” Shiro turns towards the direction of the voice with intrigue in his eyes.
“Thank you, Mr. Ryori, your dishes are delicious as always.” This is what the female voice said. As he words continue, Shiro hears them with greater focus.
“You’re most welcome! Come again tomorrow and I will have a new recipe for you to try!” The chef responds and turns, attending to more customers. With the exchange over, the girl also turns to leave the counter.
Shiro looks up and down the girl’s form, taking in all details as each image registers and is matched with the newly remembered images of a year ago. “She looks nearly the same.” He whispers with a leaving breath.
The girl is average height, around 5’7’’, and has light skin. Her hair is brown, has elegant waves, and falls down to her shoulder blades. She has dark brown eyes that reflect light in a fabulously stunning fashion. Upon her cheeks, small freckles are peppered with perfection. This girl wears a sleeveless shirt of mossy green color that reaches down to the area just above her waist. The rest above her dress is wrapped in white bandages. Her bottoms of the same mossy green go down to just above her knees. Again, skin that would be open is modestly covered in bandages. On her feet are black sandals of ninja issue. Her hands wear black gloves. Shiro cannot help but notice that the mossy green main color of her clothing compliments her brown eyes.
His eyes move up to her head again as she ends her turn. Their eyes meet in the same way that two strangers will awkwardly make eye contact before looking away immediately after. In this instance though, neither the girl nor Shiro look away from each other. Nearly three seconds go by before Shiro speaks.
“Atsuko.” His voice is quiet, just loud enough for only someone listening to register. It also has the sound of being choked by emotion. This is a reunion of two friends, two friends as close as friends can be. And after nearly one year and six months, the two of them are seeing each other again for the first time. Shiro quickly thinks of something to say but he is beaten to it.
“It’s been…” She begins but Shiro interrupts, not wanting to be reminded of the amount of time that has passed and how long he has left her alone.
“It hasn’t been that long, right?” A bead of sweat form upon Shiro’s forehead and he promptly wipes it away with his open left palm. The dango is wrapped up and switched into his right hand. His hand remains upon his head in an attempt to monitor his body’s temperature. He knows that his nerves are getting the better of him, making him both shy and anxious.
Atsuko slowly walks forward. “C’mon.” She and Shiro turn and continue to walk forward down the side of the road while Atsuko continues to speak. “...We stopped talking.”
“I know…” Shiro is short of words, thinking back to the memory of Atsuko and himself before his parents departed from the village. Her words softened the load that was slowly building up at the time. This girl who he was trying to protect from his burden was the one who did the most to lift it away. “That’s my fault. I guess I…”
Atsuko interrupts. “Your fault? I avoided you.” Her words grow quiet, likely out of shame.
“Did you? I wasn’t looking for you.” Shiro grins, chuckling. His hand remains upon his head and Shiro is sure that he must be growing warmer. “So what were you avoiding?”
She begins to loosen up as Shiro does. “Oh, so I did nothing wrong. Your cold heart is to blame, then?”
“All me…” He sighs, not knowing exactly what it was that he should say next. At this moment, his muscles are tense and his nerves are shaken. Shiro is taken back to the memory of her talking so sincerely to him. He remembers how her tears felt as they fell upon his face. That sadness is his doing. “I can’t apologize enough… I just couldn’t keep it up.”
“Keep what up? Did you have some more trouble beyond your parents? Beyond Genri?” Atsuko’s voice softens as if apologizing. “I know those alone were burdensome enough… it was me, wasn’t it?”
“You, no… no.” Shiro realizes that, involuntarily, he is once again shielding Atsuko from his problems. This is the same road that lead him into the hole he found himself in. Not wanting to have to dig himself out again, Shiro takes back his words. “Well, yes. I’m so sorry… There was just too much for me to handle. And I knew that if I showed any sign of wavering in strength, you would inquire. My weakness would require you to get involved and sheer me up. I simply couldn’t ask you to take on my sadness.”
“Taiyo, you overworked yourself. After seeing you in that hospital, I felt like your hardship had to be lightened. Who better to help you than I?” She calls Shiro Taiyo, not knowing the details about how he changed his own name as a symbol of his becoming a new person.
“I know… I know.” Shiro continues, leaving the name correction to the end of their conversation. “You stopped talking to me and I guess I wanted to keep things that way. If you had ever worked to pick me back up, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself.”
“It’s nice that you would do that much for me…” Her voice trails off towards the end and picks up again with her next sentence. “But the past is the past. You seem healthy now, why don’t we meet outside of the Kozai Yuki National Archives tomorrow? We can talk further there.”
“S-sure, of course.” The left hand on Shiro’s forehead is lowered to his side and slips into its pocket. He stops and Atsuko continues forward until she is out of earshot. “I’ll meet you there.”
(2,353)
[Exit]
[Claims: 22 AP]
As the village people of Hoshigakure roam the streets, some might say that the day could be sunnier, that an unobstructed sun would lift their spirits just a nudge higher. From Shiro’s perspective though, this day is fine the way it is. He imagines the unbridled sun radiating its light with no clouds in the sky to bridle it.
“That would disturb me.” Shiro tells himself, walking down the side of a road. There are few villagers around him or on the street at all. “Today, I feel exceptionally relaxed and the weather compliments this. While I do enjoy the heat of the sun upon my skin, bright lights are not what I want to see now. The sky is as relaxed as I am. Rather than radiate with happiness, it is serene and I am serene.”
This area of the village is a shopping center without many visitors, scheduled to be redesigned for a more modern look and new products to attract customers. The few people who are here walk around just for the quiet atmosphere. Shiro is doing the same. He carries little money with him and does not plan on making any purchases. There are stands in this area with the ones running them lounging with their feet up on the counter. The probability of a customer actually wanting to buy anything is low enough for this sort of behavior.
Another reason as to why Shiro is taking a walk through this area involves his newly uncovered memories. After more than a year refusing to let the thoughts of his parents, Genri, and the dead priests come to mind, the experiences are now fully accessible with detail. Around the time of the occurrence, this shopping center was more alive. Shiro and Genri were returning customers, purchasing items to be used for a private makeshift training exercise. With Genri no longer so prominent an influence on his mind, Shiro reasons that a stroll through this shopping center will raise his spirits.
“No help.” Shiro thinks simply. He stops to turn and look around at the area. Not a single sight brings about a warm familiarity. “It would seem as though these memories are forever tainted by Genri. I cannot seem to find pleasure in any past experience in which I had a smile on my face while he was also with me. However…” He continues to walk forward with his hands halfway into his pockets. “While I do not quite see it clearly, there is some memory of walking along this street with a person other than Genri. At that time, I was happier than the recollections I’m trying to recreate now. Who was I with at that time?”
On the other side of the street, Shiro catches a familiar sight. A stand selling dango with seven seats in front of its counter. The chef within the stand is hard at work filling orders for patrons who sit in a seat to enjoy their food or leave to continue their own strolls. Seeing this, Shiro is drawn to the stand, suddenly craving this snack. In his head, a lightbulb flickers as he makes his way across the street.
“That’s right, the two of us would come here so often. Both of us enjoyed each other’s company quite well.” He arrives behind two customers making their orders at one side of the counter.
The smell of hot cooking rice flour and green tea permeates the air round the stand. With what little money Shiro has brought with him, he is now set upon picking up at least one stick of dango before going on his way. In a short time, he finds himself next to place an order. Being to the far right of the wide wooden counter, there is a row of seven customers enjoying their food. Behind the counter, the chef manipulates multiple stations each filling its own order. In time, the man makes his way towards Shiro who is prepared to order.
“What can I get for you?” The chef asks, a small book and writing utensil in hand. He writes in what Shiro guesses to be his order number.
“I’ll have mitarashi, just one please.” Shiro gives the first flavor that comes to mind. With no recollection of how mitarashi dango tastes, this order is an involuntary reaction to a sudden want for this specific flavor. At a time before this, Shiro would have stopped himself and wondered why mitarashi was such a fine flavor and why it came to mind first out of all of the others. After having obtained more mental silence though, these questions do not cloud his flow forward and he allows whatever is going to happen to take its course.
“One mitarashi. Give me a moment.” The chef steps back after writing this order into his book and proceeds to fill the order. There are multiple sticks upon a grill with mochiko already cooking on them. One of these will be Shiro’s order.
After a moment of waiting, Shiro’s order is brought to him. From his back pocket, he removes a black wallet from which Shiro brings the appropriate amount of money to cover the cost of his order. It is handed to the chef who accepts it. Shiro thanks the man before placing his wallet back into his pocket, lifting the dango wrapped in aluminum foil, and turning to continue walking down the side of the road.
The dango is in his left hand while his right begins to unwrap the foil. While doing so, he begins to delve into thought. His steps slow down behind the customers sitting in front of the counter. Shiro looks down at the snack in his hands.
“I feel as though this dango shop almost made me happy. There was a nudge. But the dango is only indirectly related to… someone who I can’t quite put my finger on. If I could only see something with a deeper connection to the past that I am still hazy on remembering. Maybe then I might be able to draw a line between what I’m trying to recollect.” Thinking that a taste of this food that Shiro now knows he delighted in eating might provide this more profound tie, he takes one bite. The dango is sweet with a pleasantly burnt fragrance. After eating one segment of the five stack, there is no notable change. The taste of the food that should be very familiar to him is not so familiar that it might cause him to remember a buried memory. Despite having regained a majority of his past, there is but one part that he fails to bring back to mind. He knows at least that it is a person he is attempting to induce back into his memory. Shiro takes a second segment. “This is doing nothing.”
Discouragement nearly grows in him before a voice stops his in stride. The voice is female and the tone melts away Shiro’s negative outlook. In its place, a gleam of positive emotion slowly blossoms and is distinguished greatly within what looked to be endless depression. With every word, this glint grows in volume and illuminates more of his emotional state. “That did something.” Shiro turns towards the direction of the voice with intrigue in his eyes.
“Thank you, Mr. Ryori, your dishes are delicious as always.” This is what the female voice said. As he words continue, Shiro hears them with greater focus.
“You’re most welcome! Come again tomorrow and I will have a new recipe for you to try!” The chef responds and turns, attending to more customers. With the exchange over, the girl also turns to leave the counter.
Shiro looks up and down the girl’s form, taking in all details as each image registers and is matched with the newly remembered images of a year ago. “She looks nearly the same.” He whispers with a leaving breath.
The girl is average height, around 5’7’’, and has light skin. Her hair is brown, has elegant waves, and falls down to her shoulder blades. She has dark brown eyes that reflect light in a fabulously stunning fashion. Upon her cheeks, small freckles are peppered with perfection. This girl wears a sleeveless shirt of mossy green color that reaches down to the area just above her waist. The rest above her dress is wrapped in white bandages. Her bottoms of the same mossy green go down to just above her knees. Again, skin that would be open is modestly covered in bandages. On her feet are black sandals of ninja issue. Her hands wear black gloves. Shiro cannot help but notice that the mossy green main color of her clothing compliments her brown eyes.
His eyes move up to her head again as she ends her turn. Their eyes meet in the same way that two strangers will awkwardly make eye contact before looking away immediately after. In this instance though, neither the girl nor Shiro look away from each other. Nearly three seconds go by before Shiro speaks.
“Atsuko.” His voice is quiet, just loud enough for only someone listening to register. It also has the sound of being choked by emotion. This is a reunion of two friends, two friends as close as friends can be. And after nearly one year and six months, the two of them are seeing each other again for the first time. Shiro quickly thinks of something to say but he is beaten to it.
“It’s been…” She begins but Shiro interrupts, not wanting to be reminded of the amount of time that has passed and how long he has left her alone.
“It hasn’t been that long, right?” A bead of sweat form upon Shiro’s forehead and he promptly wipes it away with his open left palm. The dango is wrapped up and switched into his right hand. His hand remains upon his head in an attempt to monitor his body’s temperature. He knows that his nerves are getting the better of him, making him both shy and anxious.
Atsuko slowly walks forward. “C’mon.” She and Shiro turn and continue to walk forward down the side of the road while Atsuko continues to speak. “...We stopped talking.”
“I know…” Shiro is short of words, thinking back to the memory of Atsuko and himself before his parents departed from the village. Her words softened the load that was slowly building up at the time. This girl who he was trying to protect from his burden was the one who did the most to lift it away. “That’s my fault. I guess I…”
Atsuko interrupts. “Your fault? I avoided you.” Her words grow quiet, likely out of shame.
“Did you? I wasn’t looking for you.” Shiro grins, chuckling. His hand remains upon his head and Shiro is sure that he must be growing warmer. “So what were you avoiding?”
She begins to loosen up as Shiro does. “Oh, so I did nothing wrong. Your cold heart is to blame, then?”
“All me…” He sighs, not knowing exactly what it was that he should say next. At this moment, his muscles are tense and his nerves are shaken. Shiro is taken back to the memory of her talking so sincerely to him. He remembers how her tears felt as they fell upon his face. That sadness is his doing. “I can’t apologize enough… I just couldn’t keep it up.”
“Keep what up? Did you have some more trouble beyond your parents? Beyond Genri?” Atsuko’s voice softens as if apologizing. “I know those alone were burdensome enough… it was me, wasn’t it?”
“You, no… no.” Shiro realizes that, involuntarily, he is once again shielding Atsuko from his problems. This is the same road that lead him into the hole he found himself in. Not wanting to have to dig himself out again, Shiro takes back his words. “Well, yes. I’m so sorry… There was just too much for me to handle. And I knew that if I showed any sign of wavering in strength, you would inquire. My weakness would require you to get involved and sheer me up. I simply couldn’t ask you to take on my sadness.”
“Taiyo, you overworked yourself. After seeing you in that hospital, I felt like your hardship had to be lightened. Who better to help you than I?” She calls Shiro Taiyo, not knowing the details about how he changed his own name as a symbol of his becoming a new person.
“I know… I know.” Shiro continues, leaving the name correction to the end of their conversation. “You stopped talking to me and I guess I wanted to keep things that way. If you had ever worked to pick me back up, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself.”
“It’s nice that you would do that much for me…” Her voice trails off towards the end and picks up again with her next sentence. “But the past is the past. You seem healthy now, why don’t we meet outside of the Kozai Yuki National Archives tomorrow? We can talk further there.”
“S-sure, of course.” The left hand on Shiro’s forehead is lowered to his side and slips into its pocket. He stops and Atsuko continues forward until she is out of earshot. “I’ll meet you there.”
(2,353)
[Exit]
[Claims: 22 AP]
Akihana AkariCitizen- Stat Page : [url=statpage]Stat Page[/url]
Clan Focus : Ninjutsu
Village : Hoshigakure
Ryo : 223500
Re: "It hasn't been that long, right?" [P]
Mon Jan 16, 2017 3:48 am
Would you like to claim anything from here? AP at least? <3
- Akihana AkariCitizen
- Stat Page : [url=statpage]Stat Page[/url]
Clan Focus : Ninjutsu
Village : Hoshigakure
Ryo : 223500
Re: "It hasn't been that long, right?" [P]
Mon Jan 16, 2017 12:01 pm
Approved <3
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