The Roundabout Routine [Solo, Mission]

Missions:

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The architecture in Konohagakure was different than Earth Country’s, Kaneki noted. Rather than take advantage of the natural mountains that would be available back in his home country, what they instead were blessed with here was a combination of flat plains and rising forests supplying a near endless font of lumber. What this ended up causing was sprawling buildings punctuated by large near skyscraper like structures that poked at the horizon in a mark of architectural daring. Buildings tended to be far more squat at home, and the idea of living at the top of such a structure was still alien to Kaneki, if not downright terrifying. Really, what were they thinking? It simply didn’t make any sense. What comes up eventually would come down, and something told him that being at the top of such a structure when it eventually topples would be bad for his health.

Rather than worrying about that too deeply, however, he focused himself back upon the task at hand. Today he was back on the proverbial grind. Getting money, collecting funds, sending some back to his family in Earth Country. He hadn’t received any postage back, which was worrisome in itself, but at the same time it was possible that those letters were simply being delayed. So long as he kept working out here, regardless of whether or not he could get return postage, he could rest easy in the idea that his family was relatively safe back at home. At least with the money sent back towards them they could pay off whatever protection racket was sent their way, and otherwise be capable of buying essentials in such a starved market. Briefly, he considered the idea of getting them to move to Fire Country before shaking his head. It was far too soon to suggest such an idea, and immigrating an entire family plus immediate relatives was a rather astronomical cost. Plus, there were cultural routes to their ancestry, their land since time immemorial. Certainly, he was roaming for now and perhaps the foreseeable future, but first and foremost he was a child of Earth Country. It would do well for him to remember such things before he started getting too much fanciful thoughts into his head. All wanderings and no reality left him stuck within the realm of dreams, and so long as he remained as such it was impossible to create any lasting impacts upon the world.

Taking the sponge within his hand, he scrubbed at the wall. Bit by bit, inch by inch, paper slowly floated down before hitting the sandy earth with a ‘shh’. Walls like these were perfect for all sorts of advertisements. Odd jobs, sales, clubs, the sort of odds and ends that created this peaceful civilians life. How long had it been since these sort of advertisements had been posted within his hometown? Now all that was left was bounties, not that it did any good with how the land itself was slowly turning into a sanctuary for all sorts of unsavory types. A message looking for a lost dog. Somebody looking to trade their shamisen for antiques. Another person looking for a tutor in historical studies for their young child. All requests by people who hoped, people who dreamed, people who had a chance. This land was damaged, scarred in its own ways, but it was healing little by little. It had to, if it meant to have any chance in the long scale of things. And so it would endure, little by little. Would Earth Country have that endurance, or would it eventually scatter into the obsolescence of time? He didn’t know, and had no way to determine such things. It left an uncomfortable, unsettling feeling in the back of his throat. Debating the fate of nations, of cultures, of civilization against the unstoppable march of time and conflict was rather unlike him. It really seemed that the environment of this place was starting to affect him. Best to get back to work before his mind was even more mired within it all.

Gritting his teeth, he put all of his back into the world. The wall was sticky, papered, and mucky, and he had till sundown to get it all cleaned up. It was looking to be a longer night, tonight. Time to get to it.

===

When he was done, his arms hurt. His legs hurt. His back hurt. But the job was done, and the client was well willing to pay- just as much as agreed, and a little bonus as well for his punctuality. That was a thing that happened to him often, he noticed. Quite frankly, he didn’t understand it. He did as he promised, at the time he promised, and just the way that he had told himself that he would do. Did that deserve any additional rewards? Or was that speaking to a sort of laziness among the common people? Was he a common person? A diamond in the rough? No, certainly not. He was simply a stone among stones. But there was nothing wrong with such a thing. Certainly, he had his ancestry, and he knew for fact that the bloodline of a once powerful family ran through him. But ultimately, such fame was that of the past. He lived for himself, in the now, and to live for himself he extended that to live for his family as well. Whatever tools presented themselves he would take in pursuit of that normal life. Even if it was gritty, even if it wasn’t glamorous, he would seize them with his own two hands until he could finally collapse upon his bed and rest. And there, safe within the realm of dreams where nothing could reach him, he would dream of the day where a stiller world was born.

This brought him to his next job. A rougher one, a brusque one in which there was certainly risk of some form of injury. He wasn’t a fan of it, and yet the siren call of payment ultimately was a convincing one. Double his usual rate as of late, and for only a fraction of the time. Really, it was difficult for him to stay utterly rational when faced with such a number. Walking into the business of his temporary patron, he would size up the task appointed to him.

Bouncer wasn’t the right word. As it wasn’t a club, the bar that he was at usually handled patrons one at a time and otherwise preferred to deal with unruly or invalid patients in a calm and calculated manner. What the owners hadn’t calculated on, however, was for the sudden appearance of a noble family and their brutish entourage. Night after night, they had continued to show up within their facilities and drink far until the night was dark. Their propensity to pay was unfortunately overshadowed by the sheer destructive abilities they had while drunk. Having broken so much of their belongings, the owners of the establishment had finally had it. They were to be out, immediately after nine, and without any additional waiting or last call. Should they resist? Well, that was for him to handle. Even if they didn’t he’d still get paid. Now, wasn’t that an odd one? Ultimately, however, he knew better than to hope for a peaceful situation in which he received a free meal.

And so it was that the action of the night presented itself in near prophetic fashion. Three men, all balding, all dressed in finer robes, all quite deep in their cups despite the relatively early hour. The bartender having turned away from them, despite their jeering calls towards him, looked towards Kaneki before scratching his neck. A simple little gesture, but one taught to him beforehand by his employer for the night. He was all clear to do as he liked, so long as all three of them were out of the bar in less than five minutes. Striding up to all three with a business smile, silently he cracked his knuckles behind his back. It seemed that today was the day where he got to relive the days he spent with his father and mother at the shop.

“Well hello, you three. Wonderful night, isn’t it?” He greeted them. “I think so, at least. The moon is beautiful. Why don’t we take a look together?”

And so, with three mighty heaves, all three were bodily thrown through the doorframe and into the street. Indeed, the moon shone brightly above, only somewhat questioned by the orange light of the gaslit lanterns below- illuminated scared and somewhat frightened passerby. Oh well, there was little he could do to assuage their fears. Looking towards each of his charges, he glared at them. What to do with such trash? Well, he couldn’t just beat them up- that was ultimately, despite his hired job, still assault. What he could do, however, was push them down every time they tried to get back up. Once, twice, three times. Staring at them with a scathing, disappointed look. Finally, looking down to get on their level. Each of them stunk- booze, bile, body odor. A foul concoction of the human condition.

“It seems to me that you’ve had a bit of a rough night. Do us all a favor and turn in, won’t you?”

He paused. Somehow, it didn’t seem like such a warning would stick. Perhaps he was being too gentle. A minor correction, or perhaps addition, was in order.

“Oh. And don’t come back.” A serpent smile, hiding a glassy anger beneath. “I won’t be so nice next time.”

======

The moon had risen over the sky, waxing, waning, and finally dipping back beneath the horizon as a new sun and a new dawn rose over the Village Hidden in the Leaves. With it, and with rest, Kaneki’s ire from the previous night disappeared into the air like a fine, inscrutable mist. True, he had been angry last night, and certainly was likely to take the same actions as he had should he be presented with such a situation today, but to dwell on that sort of thing was to live in the past. He could not afford to do such things. Not with a world filled with opportunity, with adventure, with love and happiness and sorry and adventure. With the rising sun, the sky’s horizons shimmered like gold. And so, with the gold promised of today, he went off in search of the day’s work and profits. Now, what was it that he had been scheduled to do today?

Ah, he remembered. Putting on his best gardening gloves, as well as a pair of long pants and shirt, he began the long trek towards the very edge of the village. With the dawning light, the air was still cool and crisp with the whispers of night. Not quite ready to kick itself into full swing, the sleepy twilight still clung in such a way that its echoing thoughts clung to every corner of the buildings like lingering thoughts. Finally, his destination came up ahead of him. A humble little two story home, unremarkable save for the utter disrepair of the lawn. Weeds, thick and heavy and long, sprung from every conceivable crack. Clover, dandelion, arugula. He certainly had his work cut out for him. Sighing, he got down into the work.

Get close to the root, and pull firmly at once. Make sure the entire root system was removed, before shaking any soil free from the tangle. It was slow work, but it was sure to make sure that the weed died and otherwise wouldn’t make a ready return. Caring for a garden was an art in itself. Making a world of his own, weeding out the ‘imperfect’ before ultimately gazing upon a thing of beauty. Now, that was an interesting thought into itself. What exactly was it that made the weed such an evil thing? It wanted to live, and so it propagated. Desperately breeding, spreading, driving its roots into the ground so as to gather nutrients and thrive. Yet humanity hated it, and for what? Because it was common? Surely, even weeds had their purposes. If he were a plant, he would rather be a weed. To grow as a weed, nobly, among friends, among those your love. To rise again even from the most miniscule speck, to show that persistence and determination truly were the force upon which the waterwheel of humanity drew its driving force and momentum. Unstoppable, slow to act, and ultimately irreplaceable.

A dandelion, he decided. In his next life, perhaps he would become a dandelion.

=====

“Ah, Kaneki Hiro! Come in, come in. We’ve got food, snacks, and drinks. A card game too, if you’re interested.”

The Kerojins- an old couple deep in their eighties, along with a few of their family friends, sat around a circular table all eating from a plate of assorted dumplings while dealing out a game of cards. Blackjack? It was an odd combination, he noted. And so early in the morning? Noticing his confused expression, Mrs. Kerojin elaborated.

“Oh! I see you’ve noticed. We’ve been playing this game since we were all children. The ante in is 500 ryo, and you can double it out. Care for a round?” Despite the fact that she was quite literally gambling at the wee hours of the morning, she was positively chipper. So, this was what seniors got up to in their old age? Kaneki certainly wasn’t the type of person to tell random people what to do in their spare time, as strange and suddenly random as it was. And to be offered a seat at the table? No, he shouldn’t. Better to take his payment and be on his way. But there was something that called him to it. A siren call of gambling? The rush of it all, the power of the cards, the sway of the game? Was it really awakening something deep within him?

Nope, not in the least. But those dumplings did look rather tasty. Sitting down, he was dealt his first card. A five. Alright, not bad. Definitely not the best, but definitely not the worst.

Hit. A six. He was up to eleven now. Come on, come on. It was risky, but he definitely wouldn’t win at this rate. Just believe in the luck of it. Just one match. He refused to play any more than that. This was dangerous to him. He could feel it.

Nine. A Twenty. Stay. Three others busted. And with him remaining…

“The pots mine, baby!”

Perhaps this wasn’t so bad after all. No. Bad thoughts. Back to work for him. Real jobs, real work. Now, time to shuffle on back to the local postings. There had to be at least something left for him to do this afternoon.

Maybe just one more round…

====

Having barely managed to keep himself from gambling away the days proceeds, Kaneki nibbled at the end of a dango stick while looking at the little scroll that he had been given for official documentation. Or rather, would it be better if he were to simply look up? Well, of course that was possible. Most things were simple in physicality than they were in paper. Things could be discussed, deliberated, have their nature examined through the power of the paper and the scholar, but true experience was something that could only be done by the present self. Still, he supposed that nothing else could be done but to read, and then comprehend.

The request, once again, was marginally more dangerous and as such came with a more substantial reward. A businessman, particularly a printer, was in trouble with the local village management due to a large and impressive tree on the edge of his property. While thankfully far away enough from any other buildings aside from his own, a lightning strike from about two months ago had left it quite permanently dead. Apparently it wasn’t worth calling up a Senju to deal with it, and so it was up to him to deal with the situation. There was little instruction beyond that point, he noted. There was, however, a note that there was a wood axe in the shed behind the building. Helpful.

Looking up into the rustling leaves, he would take another bite of his stick while looking at the withered husk. As sweet bean paste filled his mouth, he would note how the scarred remains of bark could be seen even now. Like roots, having torn its way from the tops of the branches before making it all the way to the base. Thrumming energy, flowing from the sky, the heavens, before streaking down into the earth with a ground shattering thundercrack. He wondered what it had been, in the moment. Did anybody see it? Was there a scream? A crack? A moan? Did the tree let out a gasp as it losts its grasp on the mortal world in one instantaneous, beautiful infinitely bright moment? All that was left now, was remnants. Echoes of what was, what could have been, and what would never be. And here he was. The decomposition to the corpse, the fungal agent clearing the way and making way for new life. Taking a bite of his last dango, he got to work at the destruction of a one beautiful, once towering oak.

It was worth noting that he didn’t have to clear it away completely- that job was being assigned to a trained lumber crew next week. From that, it was actually curious that they were hiring him at all, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. So long as it was out of the ground and roots up by end of day, he got paid. And what else to use but the printer’s axe? It was old, rusty, and covered in grime. It would be absolutely fine, given a moment of time.

Pulling out his whetstone, he began to gently sharpen the blade back into a razor’s end while noting the state of the bark. With how crumbled it was, and how dead it had became, it was clear that it wouldn’t require much effort for any trees to go toppling that day. At the same time, that meant he would have to worry immediately about the impact of such a thing. With that in mind, he set down his now sharpened axe head. Checking the area around him once, twice, three times. No civilians, no children, not even an animal- safe for a squirrel that he had spent an embarrassingly long time chasing off before returning back to the task at hand. As ridiculously immature as it was, he wasn’t sure he would be able to live if even an animal was hurt by the felling he was about to commit.

Lifting the axe in hand, he noted how light it was. Perhaps it was better for cutting firewood than an oak, even a dead one, but it would have to do. Sizing up his mark once, twice, three times, he wound back. One solid strike, and-

It bit into wood and stuck. A force went up into his arms, fierce and strong, but he remained resolute. One. Remove blade, square yourself. Two. Feel the ground beneath you and use that to force your power through the blade. Three. It’s dead. It cannot fight back the way it would have if alive. Come on, one more strike should do it. Three, two, one. Swing and brace and string and-

With a great creaking and whining and groaning, the tree’s crumbling fibers gave way to nothing but air. “Timber!” He cried, watching with amazement and self satisfaction as the once great tree fell, sending up a tremor through the ground that caused birds to flutter away into the distance. There she was, separated cleanly from the stump. Not quite in the road, and not quite off of it, the tree would pose as something of a minor obstacle until it was finally cleared up by an official crew. It was notable, however, that it could no longer pose a threat of crushing people underneath by virtue of being unable to hold up under its own weight any longer. In that outlook, that viewset, he certainly viewed it as a win.

Squaring off his posture, he would allow himself one, two good shoulder rolls before dropping off the wood axe into a safe position. It had only been a momentary effort, and yet he was utterly tired. So, this was what it was like to be a lumberjack? There was certainly a fun to be found in it. Almost as giant slaying would be, reaching for the heavens before tearing it all down in one fell swoop. Breath in, breath out. Let the oxygen fill your lungs, calm your mind, and bring yourself back into equilibrium. You did it, Kaneki. Not only did you fell the tree, but once again you’ll get to live another day.

Another day. Step by step, into the future. Where one day the sun will rise on a simpler, kinder world.

=====

One more task for the day. It was grueling, the way that work never ended. But that was how the world turned, wasn’t it? Until he got his big break, until he found the stability that he was lacking so badly at home, this was how it would be. Drifting from odd job to odd job, day after day. Now, wasn’t that a particularly worrisome thought? The idea of being an eternal drifter, left begging upon each day for his daily work, was not his ideal by far. It certainly wasn’t his intention to be stuck here forever, setting up stalls and stands for a festival.

Festivals. Now, wasn’t that an odd thought. He hadn’t attended one for years- not since he was at least ten. And yet here he was, in a place where celebration was commonplace, where smiles outweighed the frowns, where peace was a guarantee rather than a hope. Did he feel jealous, for the people who grew up here? Conquered or not, they ultimately knew a security and safety that his own people would never be afforded back at home. Not if the current world had anything to say about it.

Set up rows of chairs. Five per each row, with ten rows on each side. It wasn’t terrible work, by himself, since it allowed him to think. To introspect, he found, required a lot of silence. While it was the sort of thing that theoretically could happen when in interaction with others, often he found that a degree of withdrawal was necessary to truly face the self. And what was it that he was attempting to face?

That he was afraid of failure. That eventually the work would dry out, and the world would see him for what he really was. A fraud. A failure. The one who ran away from home when things got too tough, who left for greener pastures and in the dust abandoned their family. But he couldn’t let that become him. That wouldn’t be him. His legacy, his vision, his work- it would all culminate in nothing if he were to simply live paycheck to paycheck. There had to be a better way of going about this. If simply being a laborer wasn’t enough, then what would be? He wasn’t his mother, or his father.

He wasn’t. But…he was their child. And their skills were inherited by him. That left him in…oh my. An interesting situation.

Unfolding the last chair, he would let out a self satisfied smile. An idea was beginning to form within his head. A crazy one, a risky one, and one that he was sure that if he pitched it to anybody in his home town he’d either be laughed out or boxed alongside the ear. And yet, because it was crazy enough, it had to work.

He’d make sure of it, come hell or high water.

======

[Exit]

[4011 words]

Claiming as follows:

+16600 ryo [8000 base pay + 8000 Beloved Presence Pay + 600 D-Rank Missing Nin Salary Pay)
+40 mission ap

+40 stats, going towards
+35 strength
+5 speed

Clan Pureblood [+25 Strength version] [2000/2000]
Extreme Realm of Force [2000/2000]
Discarding remaining 11 words.

Approved