Mission: Holy Helpers [Solo]

Mission Specs.

Click Me:

Yuuma's most recent interactions with the cit had been educational if nothing else. It was strange, walking down the same street every day, seeing a lot of the same people every day. Now he put more conscious thought towards things. His thoughts were on the people of the city, and it's history. Since the meeting with Feng Yu, Yuuma had done his best to turn away from the books and focus more on what was actually happening in the world around him. His daily walk to work or the training grounds now proved extra thoughtful as he observed the city in its entirety. Curiosity sitting upon the parapets of older buildings that had stood since before his family had been alive. Little traditions and greetings that people offered each other of both the formal and informal nature. Ever since Yuuma had taken to experience the city for himself and less through the lens of a history book, he found the lessons of each day more practical in nature. It felt more hands one, being able to interact with people who seemed to view shinobi negatively. Granted, his headband had to remain in his back pocket most of the time, but that was okay. The recent snowfall made wearing the thing a little more tedious anyway when it came to trying to avoid getting it absolutely soaked by the falling snow.

In the spirit of charging full steam ahead with learning about the people of the city, Yuuma had accepted another mission that was diplomatic in nature. Despite the warning of the senior shinobi, Yuuma decided that the perfect opportunity to get a better feel for the other half of the city was to help them. With the recent snowfall, assistance was needed more than ever by charitable programs who didn't have much to speak of. So this was how Yuuma came to find himself standing in the city square before one of the large, pointed-roof building of worship within the city. The assistance at the headquarters had recommended that he pick perhaps another place to go to, considering there was some manner of history with this particular place. Yuuma, however, was undeterred. A sack full of warm clothing and blankets over one shoulder, and a box of dry bulk food in his other arm, Yuuma was prepared to meet the day's challenges head-on, feeling unafraid of what this place could do to him. Besides, there was little they could do to him that he had not already, in some way, experienced. 

Pushing open the doors to the church, he would be greeted by a couple attendants that would observe him with a steely gaze. Yuuma simply smiled to them politely and offered a nod of the head. "Good morning, I'm Yu-" He was stopped short by a raising of the hand from one of the attendants that seemed to have already known at least who he was here in representation of. Ushering the young mand into the building, they would close the heavy wooden double doors behind him to keep the draft from getting too intense. When Yuuma attempted to hand over the goods, the two of them would silently shake their heads before motioning deeper into the church. "You would like me to put this by the front?" Yuuma questioned, motioning inside. His response was a silent nod as the two of them stepped back into their place beside the door to help welcome anyone else who might enter. Yuuma looked to either of them before the large and open room before him.

Yuuma didn't consider himself a particularly faithful person. Not because the idea of a god repulsed him, nor the practice of faith as a whole. He had simply never had a need to seek out faith for console. It seemed the sort of people that needed faith were those incapable of finding certainty for themselves. As Yuuma stepped into the room laden with pews and candles, the smell of incense hung heavily in the air, threatening to cling to his clothes for some time after he left. There were a few people within the seats, quietly praying or seeing to a solemn group conversation, but what caught the youth's attention was the depictions upon the colorful stained glass of the windows on either side of him. As Yuuma walked down the center aisle, the correlation slowly dawned on him. These were people being chased, hunted, and killed by demons. But as he got closer to the front, these demons took the form of shinobi, bearing the very same band he felt in his back pocket. A perverse story of defeat, humiliation, and oppression. Certainly, Yuuma knows these things weren't as dramatic today as they appeared. Or at least, he certainly hoped. 

Once Yuuma reached the front of the room, he set the supplies aside, looking instead to a plaque of names on the wall. "To those, we have lost. May you find peace." Yuuma mouthed out quietly as he read the headline. Scanning over the names, Yuuma wasn't sure what he was looking for, as he was certain none of the names would stick out to him. Still, a sinking feeling of dread entered him as he hoped these were not the names of people killed once upon a time ago by shinobi. Turning to return the way he had come, he found that every eye in the room had turned to him, staring at him. It was a foreboding feeling. Like one standing trial before their peers of something, they were certainly guilty of. These stares were not dirty, nor malicious. They simply spoke of guilt. Guilt laid upon the man for things he hadn't commit but was guilty via association with the group that had. Pulling himself together Yuuma would quickly walk back down the aisle in an attempt to escape the gazes that followed him. So wrapped up was he that he failed to notice the bit of food that was hurled towards him, knocking him gently in the side of the head and smashing its contents over the side of his face.


"Scum!" An elderly lady shouted. Yuuma was so taken aback that he paused in his step to feel at the side of his face, finding a bit of sauce covering his fingers. Dull blue eyes turned to the woman, resulting in a small gasp from her and the younger people she was with, one of which stood silently as if to impose between Yuuma and the elder to intercede some sort of predicted retribution. But Yuuma offered none. What he saw was not anger, nor aggression. It was fear. Fear from a people who felt they could do nothing against him if he decided to turn against them at that moment, even if the truth was quite different. Yuuma was not used to seeing this look on the faces of people. It made him feel...sick. Without further hesitation, Yuuma would continue down the row and through the doors. Back into the lightly falling snow, Yuuma would begin to make his way back to the mission office, burning the images of what he had just seen into his memory. That sickening feeling. The looks on their faces. 

He would remember them for years to come.

[Mission: Complete]

Mission Target: 1,000
TWC - 1,214

Claims:
Mission Rewards
Putting 200 wc to finish Star Power!, previous progress here.
Using 703 wc to finish Storage Displacement, previous progress here and here.
Putting last 311 wc towards Flicker Movement - [311/1000]

Approved