Fire and Rice

Komori Hozuki had been in his humble home for only a little bit now, having just come in from the fields. He wanted nothing more than to head over to Taika’s for some relaxation, regardless of it being morning or not. The evening rush in the bar the other night was proof enough that the earlier one went, the better, as he had been drawn into conversation with several people all at once, and that in itself had been draining. Upon leaving his house, however, Komori’s attention was stolen by a column of black smoke rising into the sky. The second thing he noticed was the dull roar of the flames. It was close enough to his own fields that the threat of it spreading seemed likely. He hesitated for the span of a single second, then sighed in frustration with himself as he took off towards the source.

Upon getting closer, the former shinobi signed the necessary handseals as, save for the pillars of smoke rising from the destruction, the previously cloudless sky was suddenly dotted with the creation of dark gray clouds above. Despite his isolation, he was still guilty of using this technique every now and again in order to keep the paddies efficient during times of drought. Once they had finished forming, a torrential downpour began raining from above without any real warning. As he approached, he could see the fire had already claimed an entire house, and the witnesses nearby were of no real help. People, generally speaking, are frightful creatures that are hard pressed to contribute any real assistance in tough situations. The rain droplets, infused with his chakra and sensory capabilities, only confirmed this. Even though he was unable to see everyone, the rain allowed for him to sense what people were doing, which largely consisted of yelling helplessly, trying to fill up small bowls with water from the nearby paddies to douse the flames to no effect, and others simply fleeing without regard for the consequences of this fire left to its own devices.

However, the fire was much larger than anticipated. The deluge from above primarily helped to contain the inferno and keep the flames from spreading to the paddies, but it was not quite able to extinguish the still burning homestead. The rain soaked the farmer through his clothes, but it was something he had once been used to, having once constantly been the cause himself. The raindrops kept enough of an eye on the civilians that he would be able to tell if they would foolishly try to approach the inferno with the intent to enter it. Having finally arrived at the building, still ablaze, he came to a halt and looked upon the structure. He thought to plan his next course of action, but would be taken aback at the sensation of someone moving towards the action, maybe even at an unreasonable capped speed, from the direction of the village.

WC: 492

The voice of this speeding presence seemed to carry with it a sense of authority. The raindrops falling from above painted the picture of rowdy, chaotic people craning to hear what this approaching man might say next, looking at him with expectant eyes and the longing of commoners for someone else to handle their problems. These very same raindrops landed on the former shinobi who had called them forth, rolling down his face and across his eyepatch as the droplets connecting with the newcomer allowed for Komori to see the man withdraw his blade with practiced ease and slice through the earth as though it were nothing. Someone like that? Living in Tanbo? He had not paid much attention to the growing power of the village, having lived here in the outskirts for a majority of the village’s founding. Sure, rumors circulated in the bar, but that would imply that this farmer had cared enough to pay attention to them.

Before Komori was able to contemplate the man’s identity further, he directed a question towards him, to which he shook his head. “Neighbors’,” came his brief reply over the falling rain and roaring fire. “I figured you knew these people, with the way they responded to your voice,” he pointed out. He turned his gaze back towards the flames, now hesitant over utilizing any water jutsu in front of the stranger. “I don’t suppose you have any more tricks up your sleeve to put this out?” If the need truly arose, he would have to bite the bullet and put out the fire by any means necessary, but for now, he wanted to see what kind of person with whom he was working.

WC: 285
TWC: 777

Ignorance was a blessing and a curse as well. It can allow you to avoid the problems of others and bear no consequence to yourself, or in this instance, the problems of a village and the shinobi world at large. People die every day, but if someone were to become hyper aware of every individual death, it would drive them mad. In this case, Komori was blessed with the ability to ignore any problems greater than himself, with a few exceptions such as this. 

Yet, the bonds that people formed as a result of facing hardship as a united front stood out as men and women came to finish what the odd pair had started. Komori could not help but agree with the man’s assessment. While many of them bore chakra signatures and worked to control the flames, extinguish them with water, smother them with earth, or redirect them with wind, there still were those who bore no such heavens given talent and instead worked diligently to support others. The brigade was a well oiled machine, their only drawback being the time it took to get to the scene, albeit compared against those of presumed higher ranking shinobi.

“We’ll see,” came Komori’s hesitant response. It’s true that he had been on the outskirts for some time now, making his way inwards once again, but it might at least be worthwhile getting the proper registration. With the nameless man’s departure, Komori was left with his thoughts as he gazed upon the dying flames.

--Exit--

WC: 252
TWC: 1029
Claiming: Mission rewards 4000 ryo, 20 AP
1029/2000 to memorizing Yasahiro’s chakra
10 stats to speed
369 to finish mastering summoning technique from here
660/2750 words towards Rain Shark