Important Lessons. [Solo]

There were a lot of things about Hoshi that Yuuma was still grasping. He had lived in a small village, and it is not as if he was barbaric. But five Ryo for a pack of eggs seemed like thievery when it came to someone who could get them for free with a couple hours of work. The joys of making such a large salary being a line cook quickly diminished when he learned that the prices of everything else were higher to match. Not to mention, having to pay for a place to live. City life was hard for the boy that had to stand in an aisle and put a label up next to his face to be able to read it properly. Rumor had it there were glass lenses that could be made in the city to adjust one's eyesight if it was impaired. Those same rumors also said that it would cost more than the pocket change he had to get such a thing. Certainly, he had the money granted to him by the city for the circumstances of his arrival, but he had little interest in touching it until he absolutely needed something. The less he could be in debt to a city of strangers, the better. Luckily, the pocket change could afford him enough base products for enough meals to last him some time. For a cook, anyway. 

Gathering the essentials he needed, Yuuma stood in line, headphones over his ears, and waiting his turn to shell out the cash for his next few meals. The song played perfectly against the growing night sky; a soft, crooning song. A man swinging in a low, sultry tune, seeming to be talking about a woman he missed. Yuuma wasn't sure the context of the song, but it mattered little to him as he allowed his mind to enter a trance on the beat of the song, allowing his body to go through the motions of greeting the cashier with a nod. Removing a single ear to offer the social standard of response and mandatory non-sequitur to appear like a person well adjusted to society. Items bagged, earphone replaced, and out the door to begin his treck home.

The winter months meant that it got darker earlier. It also meant the nights were longer and colder, but on a more positive note, it meant the ability to dig into his cold weather clothing. This meant comfortable wool hats to wear over his ears, though not only did this muffle the music he usually had playing, but more likely for them to slip from his head if he turned it too quickly. It seemed he was not the only one ready to dress for the cold, however. Being he was not the only other person on the street, the hour struck when most people were finishing their work for the day and making a stop at the market on their way home. So it was no surprise that Yuuma found himself trailing vaguely behind another citizen of the city. Idly, Yuuma wondered if the woman was aware he was there. Wondered if she was concerned about the dour-looking youth following her. Still, she never turned to look. Perhaps she was simply unaware, caught up in the thoughts of the night, plans to be seen through later or the day after. 

When the woman turned the corner the corner to take a diverging avenue, his eyes would turn to follow her as she continued on her way, having been the only subject of his thoughts for the past few minutes. Typically, Yuuma would have no reason to pause in his own journey, but this a sight gave him pause. Stopping in his tracks just across the road, he watched as two figures peeled from the shadows, falling into step behind the woman. Yuuma didn't know the woman at all, but if the last few moments taught him anything, it was that she wasn't exactly aware of whom was around her. His gaze flicked back to his intended path of travel and he learned that, once more, his body resisted what he was telling it to do. "What's the harm of taking the scenic route? Could be nothing, but would you forgive yourself if you were wrong?" His mind reasoned to itself. Sighing quietly, he knew in his heart the answer. Besides, it was not as if there was anyone exactly waiting with breath abated for his return home.

Turning his path, his steps joined behind the trio now ahead of him, giving himself enough room that he wouldn't be heard. That is, of course, assuming there were as focused upon their target as he thought they were. Their path took them towards the more northern part of town, quickly turning from commercial buildings to residential as they went. Had the woman walked perhaps a little faster, she would have had a better chance of getting to where the guards patrolled more heavily. As it turned out, the pair of shadowy figures had planned a clever process, allowing their victim to walk themselves between the lines of patrol. It was almost a road map printed before Yuuma. Like a set of dominoes falling in place. And sure enough, the last domino would fall as soon as the woman passed the mouth of an alleyway. The two lunging forward, one going for the purse that hung from her shoulder. The other wrapping a hand around her head to stifle the scream that had only barely managed to make a peep. The sounds of struggling could be heard briefly ahead of him, providing him a bit of time to close the gap. "Just let go of the stuff, lady. It's not worth it. Just give it to them." He thought to himself.

The thoughts did little to slow his step, however, as his pace only increased when the trio disappeared around the corner over the struggle for the handbag. With little thought to his bag, it would meet the ground as he rounded the corner to observe the struggle. "Jus' give us th' bag, lady!" The one holding her shouted. That might be what any sensible person did. But sensible or not, it mattered little to Yuuma as his feet pulled him quickly down the street, his hand rearing up in a strike that offered no warning. No heroic entrance or cool-guy line about stopping criminal scum. The only warning the would-be mugger had was the surprised look his companion had to realize there was a second person. But given that these two didn't seem to be mentally linked, the swing landed perfectly into the back of the head of the one holding the woman, wrenching his grasp and forcing him beside his partner. The woman, having not expected to be released, stumbled backward, releasing the bag from her grasp as she scrambled away. Stepping forward, Yuuma offered no words, only the cold and indifferent look that was typical of the youth's face. When the one recovered, they both looked to the intruder. "Wha? Ye' Jus' a kid!" On laughed. "Ye' go' a lot a' nerve tryin' somethin' like tha'." The other responded, rubbing his head.

Yuuma simply stood, looking now to the two fully grown adults he had confronted. He didn't really have a plan after this. His goal had been accomplished. But if he turned his back now, it would certainly end poorly for him. Sizing the two of them up, he couldn't help but feel reminded of the kid the other day. Now he was that kid. The one standing before an overwhelming force. What advice could he have given that kid? Would it help him now? Certainly, no one was going to come to his aid...though perhaps this would be the chance to use what he had learned. If there was ever a time to be like the guards that saved him, it was now. Quickly, he recalled the signs for a clone jutsu, something to even the odds. In practice, however, his fingers didn't seem to match the fluid thought of his brain, and when nothing appeared, Yuuma was taken aback. "What? But I did it perfec-" his thoughts interrupted by the crashing of a tightly balled fist into the front of his face, sending him reeled backward and off his feet. 

"Wha', you trayin' tha' Shinobi shite?" One man stepped forward, his knuckled cracking. The other tossing the bag aside the street, a scowl over his face. "Ye' Shinobi scum think ye'r so tough. Le's shown 'em how tough he is." This hadn't gone to plan. He had failed from the very first step, and now he saw with perfect clarity the fate he had in store. Punches, kicks, the taste of early dirt and blood filling his mouth. Yuuma held his guard over his head as best he could, but that did little for his gut, sides, and legs that took a pounding from the dirtied boots of the muggers. Vaguely, he could hear the shouting of the woman but didn't have the mind to make out what it was. Instead, all he could hear were the jeering voice of the muggers. "I 'ad friends lose their jobs 'cause a' you. Comin' int' my city like ye' own the place." It didn't matter that Yuuma wasn't actually a shinobi yet. It didn't matter that he hadn't wanted to come here. All that mattered to the boy was making sure he had two working eyes and a concussion-free brain after this was said and done.

If he was later asked how long the beating lasted, he wouldn't have been able to give a definite answer. What felt like an hour had probably equated to roughly a minute or less. Eventually, however, a whistle could be heard, and the two of them paused long enough to realize a small crowd had gathered, and they were now being rushed by a pair of guards with kendos. Turning, the two of them took off to be pursued down the alleyway and into the neighboring streets. Yuuma, left to his own devices, unfurled from his position to lay on the packed dirt of the road and look upwards into the night sky for a moment. Over him appeared the tearful face of the woman who spoke words, but they were drowned out by the ringing and dull thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. Heavy as it was, a hand lifted upwards to offer her purse back. With a measure of hesitance, the woman took her now ragged belonging and spoke more words that he couldn't hear. Luckily, it was just a pair of words. And these ones he could read. "Thank you." 

It took the youth a moment a hand from an onlooker to return to his feet. Stabilizing himself, he offered reassurances to those onlooking that he was well and okay. For now, thanks to the adrenaline, he felt fine. But he also knew he was going to feel it in the morning. His hearing began to return to normal as he retrieved his set of headphones that had flung from his head. Twisted and broken, he stashed them away in his pocket. If the inner wire was fine, he might be able to glue them back together. Rounding the corner, his eyes wandered to the streets, wondering what this white powder was that seemed to be spilled everywhere. The source was readily identified, his flour having burst open in the fall and splashed across the walk away with some force. Limping to his bag, he sifted through to see what was broken, and what wasn't. "Looks like it is going to be a big few days for getting creative with rice." He thought to himself, lifting the carton of eggs, he dreaded opening the contained, already imagining the smashed and mushy gold everywhere. Thankfully, the dozen seemed intact.

"Hmh." He hummed out loud. "Could have been worse.."

-Exit-

[TWC - 2000]

Claims:
+10 stats
Substitution Teq. - [500/500]
Rope Escape Teq. - [500/500]
Genjutsu Release Teq. - [500/500]
Medical Ninjutsu: Level 1 - [500/500]

Approved.