Round Up (Solo)

Spoiler:

"Community service?" Ryūka thought to himself, picking up another kunai from the ground, "More like pay a Genin to go scavenging for goods. Blacksmiths, I guess. Though I must agree that I respect it as a business choice. He's making money off of trash. That's... respectable if anything. And I also have to admit it. Whether it's his main intent or not, it is helping in keeping the place clean regardless. After all, the village itself isn't issuing anyone to clean this place. What's the harm in a blacksmith hiring me to clean it? I make money, the blacksmith gains scrapped metal, if not weapons in good shape he can flat out sell, and the village gets just a little bit cleaner. Fair I guess.". He put the kunai into a bag that was given to him by the blacksmith that hired him. It was a silent day, for the most part, except for the few groups of ninjas that were in the training grounds, well, training.

Ryūka didn't like to admit it, but if he was honest to himself, he was (even if the slightest bit) jealous of them. It had been some time now since his last potent training. His spars with Hoshi, Zyxis, and even Ikigai. They didn't take place too long ago, in fact, Ryūka was bad at keeping track of time, but he could swear it had been only a few weeks since his first meeting with Zyxis. He couldn't even tell what it really was. Maybe he was procrastinating, maybe it was just how things turned out. After all, the Smokeboy was busy recently, going to a lot of missions to be able to pay for a custom weapon. Every swordman's dream; his very own weapon. He thought about it day and night, writing down concepts, scribbling them and writing new ones. It had just a dream until recently, when he realized he had saved up some good amount of money, and now he could actually save up some more to hopefully pay for a good weapon. Something more special to him than a random katana, and hopefully something that would have been more useful than it.

One of the first ideas Ryūka had was just a stronger, sharper katana. But obviously that was a boring idea. Ryūka had picked up at least five weapons of similar concept as he was doing this mission. There was nothing special about that idea. Ryūka wanted this weapon to be truly his own, whatever it was going to be. The second concept was a long staff. Ryūka hadn't use any staff-like weapons before but for some reason the idea didn't come off too weird to him. Whenever he had a feeling like this, he thought it might have meant he was remembering a few things from his old life. The one he lived before his memory loss. That might have been the case, but truth is, Ryūka feared the alternative; that none of his memories were coming back in the slightest ways, and that they could never come back. Ryūka could have lost 18 years of his life, with no chance of getting them back. It was even scarier than the face of the monster that haunted him since the day Damon introduced him to the then newly-Genin Ryūka.

Kenshin the Stitchmonster. The way Ryūka named him in his mind, it sounded more like a friendly character from a children's book, but that was partly because he wanted to ease himself a little bit, fighting the image in his mind of his monstrous looks with a name he could give one of the characters he was goning to design for his future children's book. Anyway, that was not the time to think about his future creations. It was the time to work. And he did, he kept picking up forgotten, thrown out, and missed weapons that hit trees nearby; that nobody seemingly bothered to retrieve. It was a funny concept to Ryūka. He always did get back whatever item he used in battle. There was no reason to waste good items and even money, when he could hold on to all of them, as long as they were still good enough to work in battle of course. But even kunais that have dampened over their time being used, could be brought back to a blacksmith (like Ryūka was doing now, in fact), and be fixed.

Ryūka saw a kunai on a nearby tree, and grabbed it. A second later, he heard someone shouting at him from behind. "I'M SORRY WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING OVER THERE?". Ryūka froze. He turned back, and looked at the source of the shout to make sure the words were aimed at him. A boy around his age and height, with spiky red hair was looking at him. He was wearing a kimono, and had a wooden katana. "Me?" Ryūka asked. The redhair looked angry. "Yeah you! That's my kunai! Give it back!".  Ryūka shook his head, as a sign of confusion, rather than declination. "I'm sorry." he said, "I thought it was just forgotten here... Here you go.". He threw the kunai back at him in an arc so it would not hit him. The boy grabbed it, and kept looking at Ryūka angrily. Ryūka shook his head, and went back to another stop to keep doing is job. This was one of the most simple missions he had been on (well, more of a job than a mission, but Ryūka put them all into the same category), and even if at first that seemed like a good thing, giving him the ability to chill while making money, Ryūka had become fastly bored of it. He decided it was time to use his skills in weaponry to finish up more quickly. His body was a weapon after all. His body vibrated, and then settled. He started flying through the training grounds, from one end to the other, sometimes even using Body Flicker, Bull Rush and Split Second to save as much time as he could. After picking up the pace by using his techniques, Ryūka finished up the job quite quickly, and went back to the blacksmith with all the trash weapons he had found to get paid for his work.

[EXIT. WC: 1051. Claiming;

500ryo. 1 AP.
1051 words towards Big Friendly Pipe (2071 already from 1 and 2 2071+1051=3122/4500)]

Approved