The purest expression of grief (p, Asami)

The retired jounin was reclined on a simple park bench, overlooking the boisterous hidden village around her. The summer heat had begun to set in; little waves of heat rose off the pavement, drifting into a cloudless sky. She scratched her ear awkwardly. She wasn't wearing a headband or anything that would denote her as a ninja. In fact, her clothes were noticeably civilian, and her hair tied up in a tight bun. Her muscles had lost a lot of their tone, and her hands some of their callouses, but her eyes flickered with a subtle, unreadable emotion- she was sizing up everybody she saw. It was an old habit from before her injury, one that had stayed with her through the months and years. A heavy sigh drew past her lips as she pulled herself up, dark teal kimono falling to her knees. She had no reason to stay here... The young woman exhaled slowly through her nose, walking with a practiced non-threatening gait from store to store, no destination in mind. Since the death of her genin team, her sense of purpose had been all but squandered. With nothing to do, she tended to flit about from one hobby to the next- or perhaps it was simply an expression of grief. She didn't know.

Eventually, she made her way over to a bustling, central plaza near the markets. Looking up at the sky, it was about noon now. Good. Strands of black hair drifted down from the sides of her head, fluttering with the breeze. She brushed them behind her ear before sitting down at the edge of a fountain, taking note to avoid any puddles of swiftly evaporating water. It slowly began to sunk in what this meant for her. This was her life now. Her fingers traced the worn stone upon which she sat, feeling numerous scrapes, scratches, and occasional patches of smooth marble. This fountain was old and scarred, but still in use. Lachesis snorted. No use in getting hopeful. She'd get reinstated eventually. Maybe then she'd find someone to fight...

Or maybe not. According to some more hostile accounts from her peers, it was her own rash thinking that lead to her team's downfall. She personally didn't know what to think. Like many other events from her ninja career, it had been compartmentalized and repressed. She wouldn't make that mistake again, of course. She just needed to pick and choose her battles wiser... But there wasn't many who could help with that. She didn't trust too many people in the world, much less in Konohagakure. The Hokage had also called her to his office for an appointment scheduled towards the next day. She hoped it would be to get her headband back, but... Realistically, she'd need to train first. Lachesis let out an ample sigh and leaned back slightly, relaxing in the misty spray of an old, scarred fountain. Maybe she was just reading too much into things. It'd work out eventually. It had to.

WC: 501
Total WC: 501

Time, Asami found, had a peculiar property: it tended to come to a near halt when she wanted it to pass and slipped right through her fingers when she most wanted to hang onto every passing moment. She knew, of course, that this phenomenon existed only in her head, but it did not make it any the less agonizing. For the past week, time, it seemed, had slowed to a painful crawl. The mornings she spent following up leads about her parents never amounted to anything, the afternoons were much the same, and the nights were spent alone contemplating why she had bothered to come all the way to Konohagakure for nothing. Suffice to say, the young wanderer's morale had never been lower; it just all felt so hopeless—she had no friends to lean on or family to go back to, there was only the solitary path forward.

Every good path, however, has its twists and turns. For Asami, one of these twists led to a break from her fruitless searching and pointless interviewing. The afternoon sun over Konohagakure bathed the village in warm light and, in the way only good weather can, buoyed the wanderer's spirits as she meandered aimlessly through the market district. All around her savvy merchants struck deals, zealous shoppers hustled from one stall to the next, and the occasional street performer tried their best to eke out a living from the gratitude of others. Surprisingly, the passing sea of humanity reminded her of home; add the smell of salt to the air, a bit more seafood, and the market would feel much like Kirigakure did. It was comforting to know that, despite being half a world away, some things remained the same.

One thing that did not remain the same, though, was how the girl was treated by those around her. The emblem of Kirigakure hanging loosely from her neck marked her as a foreigner and, worse yet, the white tank top, black leggings, and full weapon pouch strapped to her left thigh marked her as a shinobi of some repute. Most people simply hurried by the pint-sized girl not sparing her a second glance but some— the vindictive few—went out of their way to harass her as an enemy of the Leaf. The rash impulsive part of the girl wanted nothing more to go toe-to-toe with these miscreants who would dare insult her and her village but, for once, the girl's logical side won out as she simply endured the torment without protest or retort.

They aren't worth it, she rationalized to herself.

With patience for the people of Konohagakure wearing thin, she bought a suspiciously overpriced pork bun and retreated from the bustling market district. The village's narrow side streets were less crowded and offered a much-needed respite from the sidelong glances and hushed whispers of the larger arterial roads. For the most part, she passed by shuttered up bars that were surely waiting to open for the evening crowd. Every now and again she'd happen upon a bar owner seeing to some cosmetic repair to their storefront but, beyond that, she was alone. And, for the first time on her trip, she could appreciate the feeling of solitude.

Alas, it was a feeling that would not last. Soon the narrow streets widened once more and opened back up into a busy central plaza with an aging fountain as its centerpiece. Somehow feeling even smaller than she was, Asami skirted around the edges of the plaza and found a bench from which she could watch the comings and goings of people without attracting much attention herself. There were, of course, a few spots by the fountain, but the wanderer did not feel all that comfortable being out in the open anymore, not after her experience in the markets.

No, for now, she just wanted to eat her pork bun in peace.

Was that too much to ask for?

---
TWC: 659

The crowds came and went, none escaping a watchful yet subtle eye. Sooner or later, however, a shinobi figure approached with what seemed to be a pork bun in hand, making a line for the bench. Not recognizing the figure wasn't that alarming- after all, she had not been in the shinobi forces for quite a while. What caught her interest, however, was the Kirigakure emblem emblazoned upon her headband. It hung around her neck. She took a few minutes to study the girl- she seemed young-ish, with black hair and a simple outfit. The weapon pouch around her thigh was full. From this picture, Lachesis could not guess her ranking or status- after all, she had not watched the last few chuunin exams which took place due to her hospital stint. Against her better judgement, she stood up from her position, and non threateningly approached the woman from a slight angle. Her posture was carefully manufactured- not intended to have the familiar 'predatory gait' most shinobi seemed to possess. She took a seat on the other side of the bench in silence, allowing the stranger to finish her pork bun in peace, should she wish.

Lachesis kept her eyes on the fountain, though she eyed the woman from her peripherals. Eventually, however, she found herself speaking up. "Far from home?" she kept her silence for a few moments, allowing a reply before continuing. "That's a familiar feeling." a pause. "Apologies if I don't recognize you. I wasn't here for the last few chuunin exams." in truth, she had no idea if the person next to her even competed. But she seemed youngish- in her mind, it seemed like a possibility. Whether she had or not remained to be seen. "Konoha isn't much like my homeland, I don't think.

"I spent most of my childhood towards the northwest. I must say, the temperatures are more tolerable." the dry and frigid climate left much to be desired. She wasn't sure if she was referring to Lightning Country, Snow Country, or hell, even Rock country. She'd traveled a lot, never really calling any one place home. Though she was loyal to Konoha- don't get her wrong. But there were only so many times you could get accused of being a spy before it became tedious rather than enraging. A sigh left her lips as she started to drum on her left thigh- she wasn't quite sure of a cadence, just making it up as she went along. "Has Konoha been treating you well?" she was genuinely curious as to her answer, although she theorized not- without the threat of Xyxer looming over their heads like a shadow, it was much easier for people to express their true emotions- be it through a scapegoat or not. But whether the kunoichi decided to answer or stay silent, she would keep her mouth shut and ears open. It was the least she could do, after all. And who knew? Maybe she'd end up making a friend.

WC: 501
Total WC: 1,002

Yes.

Yes, it was too much to ask, apparently.

At first, it was the familiar feeling of being watched that pulled the young wanderer out of her own head; a prickle on the back of her neck and the light tug on her very consciousness as if someone was trying to suck her insides out through a small hole in her head. Then it was the unfocused blur of teal kimono and black hair she saw over her pork bun. And, at last, it was the unmistakable warping of the wooden bench as a figure joined her that ended the girl's short-lived interlude from what was sure to be more snide remarks and disparaging comments.

Trying her best to ignore her newest unwanted guest, Asami focused both on her pork bun and the distant fountain. Perhaps—she reasoned to herself—the figure would simply leave her be. Thankfully, the pork bun itself was surprisingly tasty and the fountain equally fascinating. Ok, no, fascinating wasn't the right word; it looked like any old fountain, but Kirigakure didn't have much in the way of fountains. So, it wasn't so much fascinating as it was novel. Alas, however, neither the pork bun's tastiness nor the elegant construction of the water feature would last forever—she soon took her last bite of the bun and traced the outlines of the fountain with her eyes for the tenth time.

With all other courses of action exhausted, the young girl, not unlike a cornered animal, cast a sidelong glance at the woman to her right. She seemed normal enough, but that didn't mean a whole lot in the shinobi world. Nonetheless, it did embolden Asami to attempt to get up and leave. In fact, she surely would have done just that had the woman not spoken up just as the small kunoichi's muscles tensed. Instead, she found herself snared in the damned tethers of common decency and she relaxed back onto the bench.

"Just a bit, yes," she responded to the woman's first inquiry and braced for the jeering that was sure to follow. And, though she waited with a martyr's patience, the jeers never came. This, coupled with the woman's comment about not really knowing if Konoha was her home, caught the girl's attention and prompted her to take an unguarded look at her new bench-companion.

"That must be hard, not knowing where you're from," she flashed a sympathetic smile, stretching the red scar that ran from her right cheek to her artificially abbreviated earlobe—a souvenir from her first trip to Konohagakure. "Konoha has been treating me well, though. The people are nice, the weather is a good change of pace, and the food is to die for."

Lying was coming more easily to the wanderer. She no longer turned red upon telling an untruth. Her eyes did, however, flick away to the distant fountain at the mention of Konohagakure's people being nice. Indeed, her gaze only returned to the woman by her side when she mentioned the weather and food—two truths and a lie or, more precisely, one lie followed by two truths.

---
TWC: 1182

"I—I should be going," the girl finally admitted after a few strange minutes of silence. "I'm sure I'll see again."

Getting up, she paused, remembering her manners.

"My name's Asami, by the way," she said. "Enjoy your day."

Melting into the passing crowd, the young girl continued on with her day. She saw the sights, marveled at the stone faces of Konohagakure, and filled her stomach with more barbeque than she cared to admit. One could say many things about the village hidden in the leaves, but 'having bad barbeque' was not one of them. Perhaps the only thing that might have made the food better was having someone to share it with. That, however, was not in the cards for the Kunoichi.

---
Exit.
TWC: 1310
+1310 words to Extrasensory and +13 ap.

Lachesis watched the stranger go. Asami, huh? She'd have to remember that. After a while, she stood up and went home.

WC: 21
Total WC: 1,023

Claiming: 5 stats, 1,023 words to http://naruto-role-play-rpg.forumotion.com/t25092-certain-kill-ice-spears

(Exit)

Approved Gary and mish