Godhouse Blues [Mission]

D-Rank Mission:

Why do I even bother? Inaba furrowed his brow, head upturned to thunderheads that crackled with flashes of purple light against green flecked mountaintops. He threaded thumbs through pack loops, eased the burden from his hunched back with a grimace. He let it fall to the ground, lifting a tuft of brown dust at his sandal shod feet. Head turned, eyes followed the serpentine line of path as it coiled up a squat Mountain. Contortions of purple light danced around an edifice at the peak. Entro’s Shrine? Well, at least I’m--

“Hey, watch where you’re walking.” 

“Oh, very sorry, sir.”

“No harm done, old man. Oh, on that Mountaintop there is that Entro’s place?”

“Yessir.”

Inaba nodded and crooked his back into a bow. He waved the old man off with a smile. A pale hand fingered for his Kumo Sizzlers in a breast pocket, as the other hand flattened and lifted above his eyes. There had been talk in the Village about the Shrine’s destruction, but Inaba had been absent from home too long for it to be anything more than background noise. That business with his father was all he could think about lately. Inaba tilted his head forward, hands cupped around a lighter spark. He sucked at the filter, exhaling a steady stream of smoke that passed parsed lips. Inaba took another glance at the road and the people treading it, then turned to his pack. That Jounin said there’d be another Genin coming, maybe I should wait. A rivulet of rain slid down his cheek.

[WordCount: 255]

'Well it's about time...' It had been a marginally stormy day along the roads that wound down from the mountaintops of the Cloud Village. The power of the lightning would crackle along certain areas of the ground around the mountains as the rain would pitter and patter atop the leaves of the trees that laid below them. Along such roads a young man wrapped in a rain tarp walked steady and calmly, the smoke of a lit cigarette wafting around his hood and hovering up into the trees to join with the rain, as his footsteps fell atop wet leaves and mud. Underneath the hood, shrouded by it's shadow, showed the glow of eyes that resembled that of fire and the ashen tufts of hair that made up the face of Moyasu. Once again he had been called for a mission and this one would be of higher grade than what he was used to as he along his back he carried a big backpack that was built specifically for heat insulation. 'Looks like there are a lot of people waiting around here... Hope they don't mind my cooking.' the young man thought to himself as he walked past people who were leaving the shrine while greeting them with a slight nod while continuing his walk.

It wouldn't be long until he neared the steps leading up to the shrine, the wooden steps slicked with the rain, as he took notice of another who he got a vibe from. 'That's right. They had said that I would be working with someone.' With that thought he would walk up to his temporary partner, adjusting the pack on his back into a more comfortable setting, as he removed his cigarette from his mouth and blew a waft of smoke that floated up into the air before being completely evaporated by the rain. "Hi there. My name's Moyasu. Genin from the Cloud Village. I take it you're my teammate for this mission?" When he spoke he spoke kindly as he didn't want to make a bad first impression especially to another ninja that was of his same rank. 

WC 359

Inaba’s cigarette hung limp from his lips, its paper dotted in transparent splotches from rain, showing knuckled knots of tobacco. Creased cheeks contracted, lungs worked against the sizzle of a dying cherry. He raised a hand to it, pulled it from downturned lips, and flung it to the ground. A sandaled foot crushed the cigarette. Eyes shifted to the cold spatter of rain droplets on his hands.

Inaba spied him from the corner of his eye. Watched him comb through the parishioners making for the stair. He was hard to miss. Inaba turned his rain glossed face to him, raised an arched eyebrow at the gleam of crimson-orange eyes. He could have been no more than an inch, maybe two, shorter than himself. The man still possessed some of the softness of youth in his face, Inaba noticed, as the cowl’s shadow receded from a flash of lightning. The man was near his age as well. Inaba smiled.

“Moyasu, huh? Well, I’m Inaba Kurohane," He drug a thumb across his Kumo headband, "Genin. Pleased to meet you. And yes, ‘looks like we’ll be working together. Though, it seems like quite the trek for just a few pounds of food, eh? A job better suited for some errand boys, not members of the Kumogakure military.”

He squatted, pushed an arm through the loop of his pack, and hoisted it upon his back with a grunt. Loose strands of black hair fell over the metallic bar of his head protector, and wet hands smoothed them back into place. Arms buried into his pockets up to the wrist, Inaba lifted his head back, water slid down his cheeks and dripped from a patch of hair on his chin.

“You aren’t exactly what I was expecting,” Inaba admitted, “I was worried the Jounin would stick me with some kid, and I’d have to drag them and the supplies around the mountainside. But you’ve come more prepared than me even.”

Inaba motioned at the other man’s tarp-cloak with an outstretched index finger. He took one final look at Moyasu before turning to the stair they had to ascend, with a twist of a sarcastic smile to his lips, Inaba spoke:

“Say, aren’t you a little old to be a Genin?”

Outlines of people above them stirred. Hoarse far-off shouts came down to them through the rumble of thunder. Inaba squinted upward and saw the distant silhouettes of men on the stair, but they were just hazy blurs in the rain and flashing lights. My sight is too obscured to make them out. What could it even be? My luck, no telling. More silhouettes flocked to the scene above.

“How good are your eyes? I can’t make out what’s going on. We should attend to them though, they may be in need of help.”

[WC: 715]

After the initial introductions were out of the way, the man who looked around the same age as Moyasu giving him the name Inaba, he heard the complaint about how the mission should’ve been more geared towards those not part of a military setting. Unfortunately for Genin… they WERE the errand boys as Moyasu knew all too well with his other missions. ”Joys of being low in the food chain. We shouldn’t expect ourselves to be taking out assassins every mission just yet.” He took another small puff of smoke as shrine goers passed them by to ascend the steps. ”You never know though… Anything can happen even in routine missions like these.” The rain continued to fall upon them, Moyasu’s hood protecting the majority of his body from the heavy wet pellets, as the chill of the rainy weather wasn’t bothering him due to his inner body heat. The perks of being a fire Meijin as usual. As he watched the ninja pick up his bag he listened to him speak his piece and point out how old Moyasu must’ve been yet still was of the Genin rank. ’You're one to talk there, boomer.’ he thought to himself before giving a shrug and speaking still with a light and friendly voice.

”I mainly practiced and worked as a chef before I entered the academy. I did that for several years until I finally got the courage to go in and see if I had what it took. Apparently I’m very cut out for the position if my former instructors are to be believed.” It was then he noticed people seemingly running with excitement up the steps to the shrine as a commotion was happening from within the temple. Could it have been a fight? ”See? Maybe this mission won’t be so boring after all.” He threw his cigarette down into the mud and stomped it as he brought a hand up and formed a single hand seal. The result was a single puff of smoke appearing as out from it hopped up two more cloaked Moyasus, their leap clearing the entirety of the long stairway, as his clones would head in while he started calmly walking up the steps with his bag full of goodies. ”Let’s go check it out. Might just be hunger getting to these poor folks.” He thus ascended the stairs and made it to the top to see his clone separating two people that the watchers of the shrine were failing to keep apart. His other clone was already in the process of getting a long table to the side of the shrine prepared as the original walked over while taking off his pack with a smile.

’Seems like they’re fighting over a game of Shogi. Maybe food is just what they need.’ he thought as he laid his pack on the table and opened up its flap to reveal many plastic containers full of condensation from the hot food inside them. His clone would start taking the food and setting it all along the table as the dilapidated  roof of the old shrine provided enough shelter from the rain for the ashen haired ninja to let down his hood. As his clone took the food out of the plastic containers, the contents revealing BBQ pork, grilled mountain spring trout, and spiced mushroom soup, the smell of the food caught many attentive glances as Moyasu bowed. ”Hi there. I’m a ninja sent from the Cloud Village on a mission to supply some food for you all today. To that effect I cooked enough to comfortably satisfy everyone here. Come and grab yourselves a plate and don’t be afraid to let me know what you think.” The line didn’t form fast enough as Moyasu had to jump out of the way at the risk of being stampeded. Plate after plate was given to people by his clone as his other one started lighting up certain fireplaces and candles around the shrine to give just a bit of warmth to the surroundings. The original didn’t really have to do much more but prepare drinks of warm herbal tea as the mission was proving to be a huge success so far.

WC 703; TWC 1,062

Anything can happen on missions like these? Yeah, but so far, nothing has. Only last week he had been tasked with mucking the cages of Kumo’s Aviary. The foul musk of raptors rose in his mind as he reflected. A smell he’d never forget. He wiped his nose with a thumb as if the gesture would wipe away the memory. Moyasu was right though, they were the lowest of low. And that irked Inaba. He went from working in the minor Countries as an investigator to choreboy in his native land. Life was strange that way, he supposed.

Inaba shivered, his breath a pale mist against the cold. Moyasu seemed undisturbed by the weather. Not even an inconvenience to him. Knuckles scraped against seams that lined his pockets, he brought them up before his chest and rubbed them together. The whisper of callous hands in the rain.

A chef? Lines deepened near his eyes, lips downturned in questioning disbelief. Moyasu didn’t look like a chef. Eyes darted up and to the left, hung on storm-ridden skies. All the cooks Inaba could bring to mind were portly men. He envisioned a rotund middle-aged man with sweat-stained apron, his hairy arms stirring a pot over the flicker of stove light. He looked back at Moyasu with a cynical glance.

Check it out? Inaba nodded in agreement. He walked to the first step and looked back to Clones emerging from puffs of smoke. The waft of their leap whipped his hair loose. He turned to watch them clear the stairs in one bound, their movement a blur before him. His mouth fell open, eyelids receded from the round bulge of lilac incredulity. A hand slid back the wet mop of hair.

Inaba followed him up the stairs. The anxious static of thoughts buzzed through his mind. What scene would they find? He watched clones separate two men who were bickering over an upturned shogi board. Well, that was anticlimactic. Rigid arms eased straight, hanging loosely by his hips. Head turned to the drift of rising steam from handpicked dishes, Inaba smelled the hint of BBQ carried through the rain. Licking his lips, he brought a palm up to his stomach that gurgled from hunger. Watched faux versions of Moyasu placate the crowd. He’s good. I shouldn’t have been so skeptical of him. He looked to satisfied eaters. Looks we both had very different lives before becoming Ninja.

“Why would you become a Shinobi? From what I can see, you’re a skilled cook. No one looks disappointed.”

"I meant to ask earlier: Can you move as quick as your clones did back at the stair? Or was that a trick of Chakra?"

[WC: 1143]

The rain was rescinding just a tiny bit as the food was being doled out to the patrons and caretakers underneath it's roof. Everyone got themselves a plate, the ashen haired chef's clones helping with the setups and handling, as he watched everyone enjoying themselves. The thoughts of the earlier confrontation had completely left everyone's mind due to the presence of food now filling their stomachs as Moyasu soon realized he had made a bit more than he needed it seemed. He checked his bag that he had set upon the serving table and saw that there were several more plastic bins with plates inside them as he looked over to his partner for the night to see him holding his stomach in clear hunger. 'Eh. Why not?' he thought as he took himself out a bin, removing a plate of food out from within it, and gesturing his bag to the other ninja. "If you're feeling hungry please help yourself. There's plenty left here." Regardless of if his fellow village ninja grabbed himself a plate he would help himself to his own, pouring himself some tea, as he downed some BBQ with a long swig of his tea.

As he ate his cooking, feeling he could've seasoned the fish a bit better, he watched as his clones finished setting up the serving table with plates of food before disappearing back into the puffs of smoke that they had appeared from. Being that everyone had been sated with the gifts they now enjoyed in their laps he saw no need for the clones to remain as he looked up at the roof to see that there were a few holes that had formed into the wood but the majority of everything beneath said roof was protected from the rain. As Moyasu enjoyed the fruits of his labor from earlier he heard his fellow ninja ask him a question from his side about his career choice. This caused him to wonder a bit about what might have brought this question out before giving a slight shrug and swallowing whatever food he had in his mouth before speaking. "I became a chef because I have a passion for it. I became a ninja because I feel it's my calling. he would say while clearing his throat. "I like either of the two jobs because they allow me to be able to help those around me in some way. Whether it be something small like giving them a nice and hot meal or something big like using my talents to protect them. Given my... unique circumstances at birth I figured I would be better suited for the Shinobi path and I find that I rather like it."

After that he would take a bite of his soup, feeling the warmth of the spices and mushrooms flowing into his body and rejuvenating it, as he heard the next question and nodded. "I can move as fast as you saw my clones move. I'm not sure if you've ever heard of the technique before but those were shadow clones. Instead of being mere illusions of us like they train us to learn in the academy shadow clones are made of pure flesh and blood. Basically anything I can do they can do, too, which I find to be quite cool." He finished his meal and crumpled up the paper plate into a ball before closing his fist around it and focused his chakra into his hand. Chakra as hot as flames burst forth from around his balled fist, the paper plate melting and burning trapped within the confines of his fingers, before he allowed the flames to die out and opened his hand to let the ashes of the plate float away into the rainy breeze. "And how about you? What made you decide to become a Shinobi?"

WC 649; TWC 1,711

Inaba unslung his pack filled with dried goods and handed them to a bald caretaker who greeted the ninja with a warm smile.

“The servants of Etro are grateful for the Hidden Cloud’s patronage. And Goddess Etro herself, I’m quite sure.” The caretaker said.

“Moyasu here did most of the work, he’s the one you should be thanking,” Inaba said, finger motioned to the ashen-haired chef.

The bald caretaker bent forward. His pate shone from a shaft of light that spilled through clouds.

“Your superiors will be alerted of the fine job you two have done here.”

Inaba turned away from him to Moyasu. The caretaker disappeared into the temple's mouth behind them. Hungry? Yes, he was. He nodded at Moyasu’s question, and slipped a hand into the pack. Lifted a plate with BBQ pork before his face, nostrils flared at the aroma. Nicotine-stained fingers dropped the slice into his mouth. Cheeks bulged while the muscles of his jaw worked. Lilac eyes brightened at the savory and sharp twinge of barbeque. Inaba turned to Moyasu as he spoke.

“Ywoh, dinwht lwook lwik ah cwooeche. . .”

Inaba gulped aloud, Adams' apple shifted under the labor.

“Excuse me,” Inaba said, wiping his grease smeared lips with the back of his hand.

“I was saying: You don’t look like a cook. People are usually–more or less what they appear to be. A good cook gets, well, he gets sturdy from years of working in the kitchen. Versus, for instance a poet--not so much.” He chuckled.

“I’m good at figuring people out or so I like to believe. But it looks like you’re full of surprises. I’m not digging too deeply am I? Probably so. Sorry, old habits die hard. Well, you’re a fine cook. And you did all the work of the mission yourself.” He nodded.

Inaba crumpled the paper plate in his fist after he finished, and tossed it to Moyasu so he could see the display of fire chakra again. 

“You’re more dangerous than you look too. I've seen that skill once before. It was your speed that intrigued me. But those clones, they're-- that’s a Chuunin–no, Jounin level technique? Nothing to joke about, especially for a Genin. That fire chakra is an oddity as well. Only a trifle to you, I’m sure, but I’m unskilled at harnessing elemental nature. And Without seals? Is that your Clans technique?”

Inaba slipped his Kumo Sizzlers from a pocket and pulled two from the pack. Metallic lighter wheels scraped together, birthed a flame that lit the cigarette in his mouth. Inaba offered the unlit cig to Moyasu, as a coil of smoke rose upward past his face.

“They’re strong.” He warned, “Me? Well, I was originally enlisted out of the academy, but I skipped out on my second tour when I was fifteen. ‘Took a job as an Investigator in the minor countries for nearly a decade. Can’t believe it has been that long–no, longer than that now. Anyway, I came back home because of a death in the family. Signed up for another tour because of the money, and the proximity of the work to my family. My father was in the Police Corps here, and his father,” He said between exhalations of smoke, “so my track shouldn’t be too hard to follow.”

Inaba turned his head to the sun, watched the clouds recede from light.

“We should return before it gets too late, they’ll be expecting us back.”

He turned back toward the stairs, eyes following the incline of their descent.

"Oddity at birth?" He asked

[WC: 568, TWC: 1711]

As he continued munching on his food and listening to the sounds of other people enjoying themselves over his cooking which he admittedly had put a lot of time into. It was all the more satisfying when he heard one of the caretakers thank the two shinobi for their generosity as Inaba came over and helped himself right to a plate of his own which, again, only served to secretly increase Moyasu's ego. He tried to humble himself over the skill of his cooking but it was still quite nice to hear the compliments rolling his way even if they were just the sounds of chewing and coos from the mouths of those that fed upon his food. As soon as he heard the gibberish that came out of the full mouth of his partner, though, that gave him pause as he gave him a look that just spoke 'swallow your food before speaking, dumbass'. When he finally did say what could be understood it was mainly a long slip and slide of a compliment that Moyasu listened to as he finished his plate. After burning it up so that the ashes of the plate could float harmlessly away he looked over to see a similar looking ball of paper floating towards him as his reflexes kicked in and he caught it with relative ease. He was sure glad he had put a lot of time into speed training.

"No you're not digging too hard but don't sell yourself short over your own efforts in this mission." he said to Inaba as he guessed what he was throwing the plate to Moyasu for and focused his chakra into his palm once again. "You heard the caretaker: this was a successful mission because of the both of us." He opened his palm up and allowed the newly made ashes of the plate to float with the breeze into the rain as the fire that was surrounding his hand died away softly. He got out a cigarette from his pocket just as he heard Inaba start talking about his clones and his Meijin ability to produce fire as he flicked his thumb producing a small flickering flame along it's tip and took in a puff of sweet tobacco before waving the flame away and blowing a small smoke ball into the sky. "Shadow Clones are easy to get down as long as you have the chakra and control to use them. Honestly I find them to be more useful for crowd control situations just like the one we had earlier than in a fight."

He took another drag from his sweet cigarette before blowing the smoke into the air only for the smoke to be lost in the constantly falling pellets of water. "And yes... you could say that my control over fire is primarily due to my clan heritage. Though I'm not really a member of any clan but rather a victim to a specific illness. It's called the Meijin disease. It's something that has been inside my body since I was born. Don't worry. It isn't contagious and even if it was it isn't something that is harmful to your body so much as it is... restrictive. Basically it restricts my chakra to only ever utilize one element of chakra nature. In my case that's fire. I don't see it as a bad thing, however, as you've seen I've managed to harness it to where I can use it in almost any way I wish. Even to the point where I can wear fire around my body like a coat. I guess all the years of experience I've gained dealing with fire helped in that."

After giving his story and asking his question pertaining to Inaba's own shinobi interests he listened to the small tale of how Inaba had apparently been to other countries which was something he had been looking forward to doing at some point. And then there was the topic of Inaba's involvement with the Police Corps. 'So he wants to follow in his family's footsteps.' he thought to himself as Inaba spoke. 'It's good to see that he has a goal so lofty. It'll help him improve at an incredible rate.' After he spoke, however, he turned towards the stairs and said they should get going as Moyasu nodded in agreement. Their job was finished and it was indeed time to call it a night. He picked up his pack, full of empty plastic containers, and slung it onto his back before bowing to the caretaker from before. "Have a good rest of your day. I'm glad we could be of service, sir." The caretaker nodded as Moyasu power walked down the stairs towards Inaba still with cigarette in mouth and puffing.

"I hope you manage to get into the Police Corps, Inaba. As for me while my goals in terms of my hobbies are clear I haven't really given much in the way of thought as to how far I want to take my ninja duties. For now I guess the main thing for us in that aspect is to just improve in our strengths as far as we can take them." The two of them would walk along the path leading back to the village as the rain pattered heavily along the trees looming around them. The walk wouldn't be all too far but it would be quite wet.

WC 913; TWC 2,624

You hear the caretaker? Inaba smirked. Yeah, yeah. What a soothing platitude. Moyasu was a really affable guy. The truth was Inaba hadn’t done much besides lug his pack up the mountainside, and spectate the efforts of the other Genin. Inaba’s eyes narrowed into slits as he turned to observe the ashen-haired chef. Moyasu was genuinely charismatic, and he was adept enough at placating others, which would prove useful in uplifting and deepening the comradery of a team. They were only Genin yet, but Inaba could see the small seeds of leadership that would one day bloom for Moyasu. The next time they met, Inaba supposed, he wouldn’t be surprised to find the ashen-haired man potentially moving up in rank. He seemed at ease around others, and gracefully diffused any tension they had encountered.

“Yeah, yeah,” He responded, batting away the statement with a flick of a wrist.

Inaba inhaled from his cigarette. He regarded Moyasu with the sporadic shift of lilac eyes that bobbed between him and the inclined stairs before them.

“I’m sure they are as useful in actual combat as well. You could feint with them–attack your opponent from multiple angles. It really is a useful technique. Shadow. Clone.” He muttered to solidify the technique in his memory.

Awkward staggered steps led him down the stairs. Wasn't it much easier ascending? Ah, I’m getting tired. The soft skin of his palm stifled a yawn. He still had a lot to do too. Turn the report into the Jounin, collect his payment for the mission, and this required copious amounts of wasted time. Inaba would have to sit in a waiting room with others like himself, and wait for his turn to meet with–

“A disease?” Inaba cocked his head to the side, “Meijin Disease? I’ve never heard of it.”

And almost on cue, his next step created a larger gap between the walking pair. He doesn’t look that ill–ah, not contagious. Stiff shoulders drooped in relaxation.

“Robs your ability to harness multiple elements,” He repeated for himself, “well, your mastery of fire is worlds of above other’s tawdry use of elemental nature.”

A cloak of fire? He tried to visualize the image, but everything he conjured in his mind’s eye was cartoonish distortions of the actual technique.

“I use Genjutsu,” He said flatly, “it’s not as flashy as your abilities, but obfuscation and subtly have their own benefits. I’m not a great direct fighter, but, that will change with experience.”

I hope you manage. . .the Police corps.

“Thanks,” Inaba said, “but you’re right. We should focus on improving first. And it’s alright you don’t have a set goal yet, it's about the journey, not the destination.”

They walked and walked. Past little hamlets of shacks thatched with straw. Inaba watched farmers working their winter grains in great towering silos in the waning sun. Saw a young woman working a bundle of wire, her fingers weaving twine into a fishnet. She watched them with a smile. The road tugged at his sandaled foot. What had been a dirt path had turned a quagmire of mud, like the toothless gums of an old croan, constantly sucking at his footfalls. Inaba fought through the muddy road until it met wet slicked black pavement. He saw the peaks of village buildings curtained in clouds.

“Finally home,” Inaba said, “well, it was nice working with you, Moyasu. The village isn’t that big, I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”

Inaba strode towards the gates with his scroll in hand. He unraveled it before a watchful Chuunin, recited his business and reason for reentry.

[WC: 603, TWC: 2314]

[Exit]

Claims:

2000 Ryo from Mission
10 Ap from Mission
23 stats from WC to be allocated to Inaba's Chakra Stat
2300 WC to be put towards Autosuggestion Technique. A-Rank

Approved @Inaba Kurohane