A New Spark (Open)

Konoha under Kiri's oppression was best described as the unloved baby of a ghetto and a warzone raised in a dumpster fire. The economic depression caused by the obscene taxes had devastated what elements of the community were not already destroyed by the invasion forces. Many, both civilian and shinobi, had fled the remains of the village or starved. Of those who did neither, most formed or swore allegiance to street gangs which battled viciously over the meager scraps they managed to acquire. Somehow, in the midst of all this, one source of light and warmth stood in the darkness, made all the more welcoming by its solitude: the Ichiraku Ramen Shop. The place was considered sacred, most likely because ramen was cheap enough to always be available regardless of the times.

A young man entered this store carrying one bag over his shoulder and another by his thigh. His traditional ninja garb would have made him look bland and forgettable in ordinary circumstances, but as things were he stood out starkly and quickly garnered attention wherever he went within the city. He gave the steely-eyed thugs who were trying to stare him down little more than a passing glance before continuing on his way to the counter. He lifted both bags and roughly placed them on the counter, and it was notable that the one he'd held over his shoulder was squirming and apparently trying to escape.

"I'd like a bowl of ramen to be made with the ingredients in these bags." He said firmly but politely. "Any you have left over from my serving, you can keep to use for future recipes."

Even as he spoke, he could feel the tension building up behind him with the delinquents' rising desire to attack him. However, he knew that they would do nothing. He was easily the biggest guy here, it was a safe assumption that he was armed, and taking those aside the sanctity of the ramen shop was not something that even the morons here were willing to disturb overtly. Once they had him outside, though, they were fair game. Just like the critter he wanted to have served to him. 

"Whatcha got in there?" The woman behind the counter (for the life of him he couldn't remember her name) asked, and he responded only with a quiet smile revealing that he was, in fact, capable of the expression. Continuing to make airs of ignoring the crooks, Ashitaka untied the tops of both bags with one hand each, revealing an assortment of wild vegetables he'd collected from the forest in one and a suckling boar in the other. The latter he pinned down with his right hand on the back of his neck and used his left to muzzle its squeals with the rope that had been holding the vegetable bag cinched. The woman raised her voice at the display. "Hey now, hey now! This here's a clean establishment! Ya want an animal made into meat, the butcher's is down the street! I can hold onto the produce for ya, but it might get bought while yer out if ya ain't quick."

"Right. Thank you for your assistance." Ashitaka replied, closing the one bag back around the struggling swine and hefting it back over his shoulder. Those among the thugs who had enough brain cells to rub together to know that stealing a suckling from a herd of wild hogs without getting positively mangled took impressive ability were unnerved at the prospect of trying to rob the guy who did. Inconveniently, that was very few of them. But even the mouth-breathing majority wanted their meat, and so were willing to wait for him to come back with it before jumping him. As if oblivious to their very simple and obvious machinations, the young shinobi stepped back out through the door and looked up and down the street for the sign indicating the butcher shop.

Upon spotting the sign indicating the butcher's shop, Ashitaka turned and headed toward it, ignoring the futile kicking and muffled squealing coming from his burden. It was a nice day out. The local weather, as with all other aspects of the world not bound by humanity, was completely unfazed by the village's political situation too. Which was a good thing, because if the despair of being one of this village's residents had seeped into its environment, then he would have simply walked back out into the woods from whence he came and resumed living like an animal, albeit one with a slightly better education.

The barber shop's door had a bell virtually identical to the one at the ramen shop. Which was odd, since that cheerful little ring suited the latter vastly more than it did the former, where it was somewhat off-putting and surreal. Adding to the uncanny nature of the establishment was how clean it was. Not that he felt there was anything wrong with a place that specializes in handling food on principle, but he knew from personal experience that getting bloodstains and the smell of offal out of everything took a lot of work. And in this place where meat was intended to be handled regularly, it should have been impossible for it to smell so sterile. For that to even be possible, business had to be scarce here.

Not wanting to fall into the stereotypical action of calling out into presumed emptiness only to be surprised by a hidden occupant, Ashitaka instead stood quietly and listened. He could faintly hear a noise resembling growling emanating from deeper within the store. Worried some animal might have followed the scent of fresh meat into the store and was now menacing the artisan, he hopped the counter and hung the bag containing the piglet from a meat hook that was resting on a rail system which led into the cold storage. The growling seemed to be coming from the office. As he was not the sort to engage with an animal with his bare hands if he could avoid it, he pulled one of the polished carving knives from the meat artisan's remarkable cutlery set and slowly opened the door.

Inside the office looked more like a personal study, or at least it would if the former wild child had ever seen such a thing. Even with his shortage of knowledge about how people normally furnished their businesses, he still felt it was odd to have so many books so close to something that could permanently ruin them. Speaking of ruin, the source of the noise he'd been tracking revealed itself to be the butcher, seated in a plush chair with his head slumped and eyes closed, surrounded by at least half a dozen empty bottles and trying to imitate an entire lumbermill with just his mouth. Ashitaka didn't know what to do with this, so he crept back out of the threshold, silently swinging the door shut behind him. He lifted slightly on the handle as he did so that the hinges wouldn't creak, not knowing that he didn't need to since they were well-lubricated already.

There was much less air resistance than he expected, and sound of the door closing made him nearly jump out of his skin before being slowly taken over by a powerful cringe. What a novice mistake. Worse, the one-man brown note orchestra's performance had come to an abrupt halt, indicating he'd probably been woken up. Moving as quietly as possible and much more quickly than he had been, Ashitaka darted back to the counter, returning the knife to its home on the way, then leapt back over it. He'd barely assumed a somewhat normal-looking position before the office door opened and the butcher stuck his drunken mug out of it.

"Hey kid," the man asked, his voice more a mumble than a slur. "Did you hear something just now?"

Ashitaka slowly and silently shook his head.

The butcher eyed Ashitaka warily, then looked like he was about to ask him a question. But when he opened his mouth, a belch came out instead. The teenager wasn't sure how to respond, so he just quietly watched the middle-aged man first rub his bloodshot eyes with the heels of his palms, then rub his temples with his fingertips. Eventually, the man got around to addressing him after some dull groans and mutters about a hangover.

"Who are ya, kid?" the man demanded. "Whatcha want?"

"I'm Ashitaka Senju." he replied, noting how the man tensed up at the mention of the clan name. "I've come to have some 
meat butchered."

The butcher followed the ninja's gesture to the struggling bag hanging onto the meat hook. He eyed it with the carefully schooled disdain of someone who was wary of getting his hopes up. Ashitaka watched the man's gaze dart around his cutlery and other equipment as the latter visualized the preparations he'd need to undergo to set up for the task. Even sorely hungover as he was, he was still a career professional at his trade, but he wasn't about to let this whelp bait him into a foolhardy deal. He was already paying most of what the government didn't take to pay their masters in protection money to the local gang. The grizzled man literally couldn't afford a con, and to be frank he doubted anyone in the village could.

"Whatcha got in there, kid? Somebody's dog?" he challenged with a tone somewhere between a quip and an accusation, and the young shinobi responded with an intense scowl. Suggesting harm to a dog was abhorrent in his mind, even as a joke. Worse, accusing him of doing such an awful thing was gravely insulting. Were the context not what it was, he'd have removed the man's head. As it was, he was currently absent a weapon due to the Academy taking back those issued to him for training other students and he wouldn't have been surprised if someone did. That didn't mean he took it well.

"Who brought a dog in here?" he demanded, rising to his feet sharply and glaring down the butcher. "Give me a name. Manner of dress. Anything. I'll track them down and give them the same treatment."

"Whoa there. Relax, tough guy. There's no need for you to go gettin' in over your head. Konoha's got few enough ninja as it is." The man replied placatingly as he held his hands up before him, palms forward. When Ashitaka did, albeit begrudgingly, the butcher ambled over to the bag and pulled the tie open with one hand. With the other he caught the falling hoglet by the rope it had been muzzled with and lifted it so he could inspect the hapless animal. "Wild one, smells like. So you didn' snatch this off nobody's farm, then. Or if you did, it was to their benefit. Yer a good kid, ain'tcha? Even starvin' in this miserable and dyin' city don't impose on y'alls morals."

"I wouldn't know." Ashitaka replied bluntly as he met the butcher's scrutinizing gaze. "I haven't starved since I'd learned to live off the land. I can't make any claims one way or another as to the grace of my character in the fires of desperation."

"It's rare enough to see a kid like you even being aware of that, let alone goin' an' admittin' it." the grown man replied, apparently determined to stand by his newest judgement of the ninja's supposed morality. He unbound the makeshift muzzle and as soon as the suckling opened its mouth to squeal, the butcher impaled its lower jaw on the meat hook which Ashitaka had hung its bag from previously. It squealed anyway, though now it was more of a choking and gurgling noise as blood flowed from its mouth into its throat. Its thrashing and kicking were weaker than when Ashitaka was carrying it around, but it was still a good ways from dying. The man ignored its futile struggles while he went about setting up shop.

He struggled at first to identify what he was feeling, like he'd been stoked back to life after having merely existed up until now. Having lived in this village his hold life, he'd heard much about the so-called "Will of Fire", but he thought that was a myth. Nothing more than an empty platitude used by politicians to try to bait regular folks into doing their bidding. But having met this young man, he now knew both what it was and that it was very much a real thing. It was not just to survive or do right by others in spite of this cruel and merciless world, but to do both as a matter of course. Not just an action or a decision, but a way of life. "Come back in an hour. I'll have it completely cleaned out and ready for cooking by then. I'll even do custom cuts if you ask for them."

"That's wonderful news. Of course, I won't ask for your services for free. I can-"

"If you're looking for odd jobs, I've got some deliveries that need made. How do you feel about the Inuzuka?"






[Exit thread. WC 2172. 20 pts to Speed, 1 in Strength. Training jutsu "Elemental Arrow" at E-rank, 172/250. Training skill "Beloved Presence". Also claiming free, slotless Blacksmithing from Bukijutsu.]

You can't reserve stats. DM me when you update or if you have any questions