New Beginning (Rice Rice Baby)

Locks of blond hair blew graciously from left to right, the wind effortlessly affecting a certain individual who arrived in Rice Country only moments ago. Dabi's journey from Demon Country to his current location was long and difficult, one with more hardships than he originally had hoped for. Regardless, the golden haired was more than relieved to finally reach his destination. A feeling of nostalgia came over the young man with the sudden realization he found himself rather close to the place he once used to call home. The remembrance to that period in his past caused Dabi to come to the conclusion a lot had happened ever since leaving Fire Country behind him. 

After having abandoned his identity as a Konohagakure civilian Dabi's life as free spirit had finally begun. Many places were visited, experiences were made. It was only after his father's sickness and his inevitable death that the golden haired decided to settle down, but never able to let go of the want to travel. Years passed, time he used to make a living as a farmer doing business with merchants visiting hoping to strike a deal. Demon Country became the place he called home, together with his mother, both trying to move on after losing their father and husband. Even though he tried his hardest to get used to this new kind of life, Dabi's mind kept longing for new adventures. One day, when the urge to set out once again reached its peak, his mother encouraged him to follow his dreams. Knowing she was in a good place Dabi's mom didn't have to tell him twice. And so he set out once more.

However, his source of supplies wasn't endless which is why Dabi decided it was time to set foot on the ground after traveling by boat and spending the majority of the time at sea. And thus he found his way to Rice Country, a name befitting of a place where many paddy fields could be spotted. After passing and wandering through some of those fields, the blond Akari finally arrived at what seemed to be the entry of a village, wondering if it would be a place where he could find a new beginning. 

(WC: 372)

"I'll talk with him about it," Yasahiro relented. "But I can't make any promises."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Kazuko chirped. "See you tomorrow!"

Like many parents of Tanbogakure, the young girl's father was loath to see his only child taking such an interest in the newly founded village's military. Some grumbled about losing an extra pair of hands for the harvest, others worried about whether they would be able to maintain the family storefront, and almost everyone feared the abbreviated life shinobi and kunoichi so often led in service to their kage and country. And, truthfully, the Komekage couldn't blame people for having such opinions: the work was dangerous and, though Tanbogakure paid the best it could, the life of a ninja was far from glamorous, especially in such a young village.

The samurai and his diminutive protege parted ways halfway through the residential district. Kazuko melted into the back alleys opting for a self-proclaimed shortcut home, while Yasahiro continued along the main road towards the building that he had come to think of as his hilltop home, Okada Castle. Though his memories from the Land of Iron would likely never fade entirely, they had dulled of late only coming to haunt him in his wildest dreams and worst nightmares.

Soon, the growing urban sprawl gave way to the border between the military and residential districts, a shabby wooden stockade. Punacted by a series of watchtowers throughout its structure, the wall prevented free passage between the two districts without the express permission of those within the military district. Typically, any and all who approached the walls would be hailed by those in the watchtower, but judging by the appearance of an unattended blond-haired figure standing before the gates, someone was slacking—perhaps Sento had fallen asleep again?

"Hello there," the black-clad samurai said, coming to a stop beside the unknown blond. "Not much to see past these walls I'm afraid. Can I help you with anything?
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TWC: 328

Even if only for a moment, that brief period of time was still enough for Dabi's attention to get diverted towards a hard to miss watchtower. If it hadn't been for the fact someone joined the blond Akari where he was currently standing, he might as well have absorbed the scenery of the village all day long. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but something about the place gave him a sort of comfortable and assuring feeling, strange considering it was the first time he ever set foot on it. His daydreaming would come to an end with the arrival of a black-clad samurai, most likely a native or someone who made Rice Country their home. 

Due to his nonchalant demeanor it was easy, probably surprising to anyone else, for Dabi to act like he'd known the man for years. Whereas most people might have been startled by the sudden appearance of an unknown individual, even more so considering he ended up somewhere unfamiliar. "Apologies" he averted the man's question at first, "I was caught up in my surroundings. This place, interesting". For a lack of better words it was all Dabi could come up with to express his feelings about where he was and what he saw, but assuming it wasn't the samurai's first conversation with another human being he surely understood what the blond tried to say.

This time his eyes would no longer be directed at the watchtower, but at the person beside him. "Forgive me once more. I noticed what seemed to be an entry to a village so I decided to see for myself" he explained to the black-clad samurai. "To be blunt, I don't need help, not as much as I need supplies. But when I put it like that it might be help I'm looking for after all". No one would be interested in the sad story of his life, which was why Dabi only shared the information required for the question he was asked. "I'm no shinobi, nor a merchant. I traveled from Demon Country, by boat as it's what I've done almost all my life. But as you might know, food isn't always that easy to come by, which is how I ended up here". Not the most exciting story but at least an honest one.

In order to stay on the topic of his need for supplies Dabi figured it was worth a shot to inquire whether or not there were any possibilities for him to attain the things he was looking for. "I suppose you can't help me out? I don't mind working for it, give a couple of extra hands where it's needed". If what the samurai said about not much to see past the walls was true then perhaps Dabi could come in handy. 

(WC: 469, TWC: 841)

"Interesting is certainly a word for it," Yasahiro agreed with a nod. The village wasn't much to look at, but it did stand out as a testament to man's need to master the natural world: rice fields stood in neat, organized paddies, houses sprung from the ground where once only grass grew, and a formally barren cliff face now played host to an imposing castle.

The stranger's refrain that followed sounded oddly familiar. The Komekage had heard the same words on different lips for the past few months since the official founding of Tanbogakure. That said, Demon Country was unfamiliar to the man; of course, he'd seen it on the map, but never met anybody from it. The closest he ever came to meeting any such person was watching a large merchant fleet from Demon Country passing off the coast of the Land of Iron, or rather the samurai's mother told him they belonged to the Demon Country.

People running from their past, fleeing untenable circumstances, and simply seeking a new life; the village took them all and more, even the more unsavory characters. Everyone deserved a second chance at life, and if Tanbogakure could provide that, then who was Yasahiro to deny them such a chance? This stranger was no different, so he listened to the man's story like it was the first time hearing such a tale that so mirrored his own experience upon fleeing from the Land of Iron.

"Yeah, I'm happy to help,"  the Komekage replied once the stranger had spoken his piece. "Why don't you walk with me? If you're not a shinobi nothing past those walls will be of any interest to you, that's the military district."

The black-clad man made his way towards the residential district with an even stride.

"The residential district is over this way," he continued if the man decided to walk with him. "It's where you'll find most of our inns, restaurants, and craftsmen. Out of curiosity, what kind of work are you interested in?"

In the distance, the growing cluster of the residential district came into view. Buildings in varying stages of completion, the vague smell of cooking meat, and the buzz of activity all defined the residential district of late—it had become a nexus of growth and commerce all pushed up from the south of the country by Zukumiki's warmongering.
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TWC: 722

The samurai was kind enough to accept Dabi's request, agreeing to the blond's proposal while inviting the visitor to join him on a walk through the village. If he were completely honest, the Akari already assumed to receive a positive answer to his question. The man standing and now leading him didn't seem like he was hiding anything, which would probably have been the only reason to deny Dabi access. And so the once farmer followed behind, wondering how the rest of the place would look. "I know my way with a sword, but my interests lay somewhere else" he replied with a smile, thinking back to many of his travels where he sometimes found the time to practice the art of the blade.

On the way to the residential district the pair continued their walk, the blond taking in his surroundings all the while listening attentively to the samurai's words. "Hm, my last couple of years were spent running a farm, so I guess you could say I'm good with my hands. I'm not afraid to get them dirty once in a while". Although he might not look like it, Dabi didn't mind doing some labor. Saying he did what needed to be done in order to survive would be simply exaggerating, however during that time he learned how to make a living for himself and his mother. Even though the world they were living in sometimes required different things, as long it allowed him to live his life the way he wanted, the young Akari wouldn't mind whatever he had to do.

With the smell of cooked meat starting to fill the air Dabi began to wonder about a couple of things. "If I may, have there been many others like me? Visitors I mean. With all due respect, I didn't know there was a village right here in Rice Country". Perhaps the samurai would even share how he himself found his way to Tanbogakure.

(WC: 327, TWC: 1168)

"Hmm, if it's farm work you're looking for," Yasahiro gestured broadly down towards the endless rows of rice. "You'll find no end of it here."

The residential district sprung up around them as they continued. A few merchants squabbled over a poached sale, a couple strolled discreetly into one of the nearby alleys, and a few farmers haggled over the price of their next meal with a street vendor. There was a certain kind of grit that the Komekage was coming to appreciate more and more the longer he remained in the village—grit, it seemed, was infectious around Tanbogakure.

"There have been a few visitors like yourself, myself included once upon a time" he confirmed with a nod. "Though, if I'm being honest, we mostly see refugees from the southern border."

A noisy caravan passed by forcing the samurai to pause.

"The threat of war and heavy taxes make for an unagreeable environment in the south, so people come here," he continued. "And, as you might be able to tell, we haven't been anything resembling a village for all that much time—I'm not surprised you haven't heard of us before."

Quite clearly, the village lacked a strong central planner. The residential district's architecture was far from uniform and likely appeared to be cobbled together from whatever one might find lying around. Such was the nature of a village founded by refugees: it grew organically to suit each individual's needs. Perhaps, Yasahiro liked to think, much of the village's charm came from its cobbled-together nature.

"Where are my manners though?" he shrugged and flashed a slim smile. "Please, call me Yasahiro."
---
TWC: 994

A familiar feeling came over the Akari as they passed endless rows of rice. Memories of his past life at the farm returned, thoughts of Demon Country briefly filled his mind and made him wonder how his mother was doing back home. Both men proceeded their walk and Dabi continued to listen to the stories that were told. As the samurai explained it seemed trouble had find its way to the people in the south, leading them to Rice Country seeking for refugee.  Although he caught wind of said troublesome news the Akari was mainly glad to avoid a fate similar as theirs. 

A silence was allowed over their conversation, both men most likely thinking about the things that were mentioned as they continued their walk. It was a heavy subject after all, perhaps one that required some form of respect to be paid towards and to those who were forced to experience it. "It seemed war has brought these people together" he'd smile softly. "But aren't you afraid that it eventually will find its way to Rice Country?". It was probably something the man didn't want to think about, at least not when the village was still at its early stages and trying to develop into a community where everyone could feel like they belonged somewhere.

By then the samurai had formally introduced himself and shared his name. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Yasahiro. Feel free to call me Dabi, short and easy" the young Akari would in return introduce himself as well. "Tell me, Yasahiro, what is it you hope to achieve here? Do you simply want this to become a place for anyone and everyone or is there a bigger picture you have in mind?". Dabi could only imagine what the samurai had in store for the village and its people.

(WC: 305, TWC: 1473)

"Oh, war will surely find its way here eventually," the samurai's brow furrowed and he cast a glance to the south. "It's only a matter of time, really. Whether it will be a rogue warlord, an ill-intentioned individual, or another, larger village looking to throw its weight around war will, unfortunately, find its way here one way or another."

War, it seemed, had become a constant in the shinobi world. Individuals amassed power to fight for, defend, and expand their homes, so it was only natural that they would come into conflict with others in their quest for more power. Even those who wished to remain aloof from such a system were forced to participate lest they lose their lives to another's violent whims or so-called patriotic tendencies. Such a strange, violent, and brutish world—a world Yasahiro had no interest in feeding into further.

"In the short term, my only hope is to prepare the people here and the land around it for the inevitably of conflict," a few older women hurried by on their way to one of the merchants on the far side of the village. "To do that we'll need a stronger economic base, a fighting force, and some international goodwill. After that? Well, then we'll see about 'a place for anyone and everyone'—it would be nice to have a place where one can escape the tumult of the shinobi world without fear of intrusion."

To the pair's right, a misshapen inn came into view. Bigger than the surrounding buildings and seemingly a few different structures smashed together in some kind of Frankenstein-eseque experiment. By its two oaken doors hung a sign declaring to all its self-bestowed title of 'The Best Inn in Town'—a declaration only supported by the hustle and bustle in and out of the building even at this hour of the day.

"If you're looking for cheap food and a place to stay this is the place, just keep an eye on your belongings."
---
TWC: 1055

It seemed war was also on the samurai's mind. Even though Yasahiro didn't want to think about it, he couldn't help but wonder about the day when it would find its way to Rice Country. At least that's what Dabi was able to make out of the man's words. War, a topic the young Akari luckily never truly had to experience. His parents and he escaped Fire Country long before any of the unfortunate events such as the Kirigakure invasion took place, Dabi could only imagine what would have happened if they didn't. Perhaps they were forced to live their lives similar to the poor people who now found their way to Tanbogakure, looking for a place away from the pain and terror left behind by those meaning to inflict harm upon them and their land.

As they passed by a few people here and there Dabi continued to listen attentively to Yasahiro, paying close attention to each and every word the samurai was saying as the man talked about the plan he had in mind for the village in Rice Country. "Sounds like you know what you're doing", a comforting smile appeared on the Akari's face as those words left his mouth. "It won't be easy, but I'm sure you're aware of that much". The difficulty wouldn't be the only problem, as time would be too. It was going to take more than a couple of days to build a structure, come up with a financial plan, a military force, the list could go on and on. Dabi figured Yasahiro knew that as well, which made it all the more commendable.

The two of them finally arrived at what seemed to resemble the village's inn. "The Best Inn in Town, sounds promising". A coat of paint was the least the place could do with, but the Akari didn't complain. "I'll make sure to drop by soon. About what you said earlier, what requires the most attention for now?". The young Akari figured he might as well roll up his sleeves and help wherever he can.

(WC: 346, TWC: 1819)

"I would say a stronger economic base is at the top of my list," the samurai nodded as if trying to convince himself of the idea—good governance wasn't something taught in school. Plus, in the end, all the goals bled into one another creating a self-perpetuating cycle. Perhaps it didn't matter where he started so long as he started?

"Yasahiro," the recognizable lilt of Kazuko Taika cut into the conversation—it seemed as if she always knew where her oft wayward leader was. "You're needed back for a meeting."

"Ah, Dabi, apologies, but it seems I'll have to cut the tour short," he sighed. "If you need anything feel free to ask for me at the gates."

With that Kazuko ushered the leader away back to whatever god-forsaken meeting he had forgotten about today. Last time it was a finance meeting, and the samurai just about quit on the spot—he would take a battlefield over a boardroom any day of the week. How anyone could keep all those numbers in one's head was beyond him. Fortunately, one of the perks of being a leader meant being able to surround oneself with experts.
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Exit; I may have or may not have 100% forgotten about this thread...
TWC:  1249
+1249 towards Clanless Pureblood
+24 ap