Sakura Days

The festival season was winding down. Unfortunately, Komori had not had much of a chance to participate in the festivities that were coming to a close. He had watched the bright lights, masks, and dress from afar, never quite allowing himself to indulge. His social battery, as it were, had all but been depleted as of late. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, the stalls and lampposts of the residential district being the only real source of light in the cool, shady night. So went by another year of the festival of sake, rice, and everything in between. Komori was content enough watching idly from outside the residential district, away from the crowds, noise, and jubilation. Yet, it appeared that he was not alone.

Off in the distance, away from the bustling crowds and the crowded festivities, a fluffy muted pink entity was swishing back and forth among the outskirts of the rice paddles. The motion drew the gaze of the Hozuki towards the object, which he now realized was a tail connected to a larger, though not by much, body of the same color. His eye met those of this creature, which he could now tell was a fox, its inquisitive eyes staring down a long, thin snout which ended in whiskers. The white underbelly of this creature shone like the moon in the otherwise shaded area in which it was sitting. The tail stood up in the air, still like an exclamation point, once the fox realized it had been seen. It sat up, swishing the tail around and to the side as it stepped into a field of rice close to harvest, vanishing within its foliage. 

WC: 282

The farmer furrowed his brow, unsure of the fox's intentions. If left unattended, it could very well get into the paddies and dig up the roots, causing a headache for himself or his fellow farmers. The man sighed, an unfortunate habit he had developed while here in Tanbogakure. A part of his unconscious being longed for days of old, when he had allowed for his juvenile fire to carry him through his own course of actions. Now, he had been isolated from the world at large for so long, he had nearly forgotten the messy politics of the shinobi system to which he used to belong. He cast a glance around the area in habit, not that it mattered anymore. He had fallen back into an old familiarity with a new point of view, and he was more likely than not already on the radar of several people in this town, who were aware of details of his past, his capacity for chakra control, or both. Yet, he still looked around to see if anyone was in the area before blinking out of existence and reappearing at the field into which the fox had wandered.

The water was up to his ankles, but the rice stretched from below the pond up to his shoulders. A steady arm brushed the foliage aside to create a path that he was careful to tread, as he did not want to cause any damage to the crops, quite literally ripe for the picking. The second reason for his carefulness was to not alert the fox to his faster than expected approach. Yet, when he stooped down and eyed the soil carefully, he was able to pinpoint a series of leisurely paw prints that abruptly came to an end. Instead, they led to a series of footprints pressed into the underwater soil, which he assumed must be the farmer for this field. The indentations in the earth were narrower than those his own footsteps left behind, leading him to the assumption that the farmer of these fields was a woman. However, that did not explain the whereabouts to which the fox had disappeared. 

WC: 358
TWC: 640

“Excuse me?” A soft, silky voice called out to the man in the middle of a field that was not his own. He stood up slowly to present himself as unthreatening. The rice plants rustled slightly against his movements, as did the ones through which the source of the voice was now cautiously making her way. As he could see her now, he was able to see the approaching woman in the moonlight. She wore a refined looking white ensemble that was akin to those of shrine maidens. In contrast to her head of soft rosy hair, a white animal mask that he could not make out, perhaps a cat or a wolf, sat atop her head pulled to the side to reveal her sharp facial features and expression of curiosity as she came to a halt.

“My apologies,” came Komori’s response. “Is this your land?” His voice was even for someone who had just been caught off guard. He narrowed his eye slightly. He, of all people, had been caught off guard? “I thought I saw an animal enter this field, so I wanted to be sure it wasn’t causing any harm,” he continued without waiting for confirmation.
“It used to be,” came her response, almost wistfully. “I just came by because I saw a man in the distance, and thought it strange that someone was out here instead of over there.” She nodded in the direction of the festival and the sound of merriment. “Not a fan of crowds?”
The corner of his mouth tugged upwards. “You could say that. I take it, you are, miss…?” he added, directing his gaze to the animal mask as he probed for her name in the same manner as he normally did.

WC: 291
TWC: 931

Now, it was her turn for the corner of her mouth to turn upwards. “You could say that,” she echoed. “Sakura,” she acquiesced in response to his inferred request. “Yourself?”
“Mori.”
Her eyes seemed to bear straight through him, as if she could tell that he was not telling her the full truth. “Tell me something, Mori.” She resumed walking towards him hesitantly. “How long have you been here?”
“A few years now,” he replied casually. “My land is just down the road from here, not quite as close to the town. Can’t say I’ve ever seen you before now, though.” He allowed his voice to trail off once again, prompting her to fill in the question to which he was alluding.
“Really? Perhaps you just weren’t looking?” she suggested. “I’ve been here much longer than you-”

The strange woman was cut off by a gust of wind picking up, which chilled the two of them to their respective cores. It did not feel natural, seeming to sap the warmth from the air, both regarding temperature and the general ambience of the festival season. A different woman, pale as the moon, rose from the field as well, her matted black hair soaked as if she had been submerged for quite some time. Komori did not take his eye off of her, as she looked around in a panic. “Where am I?” Her voice held genuine distress, and Komori took a hesitant step towards her, unaware of his action.
“By all means, keep approaching her if you want her to follow you for the rest of your days.”

WC: 267
TWC: 1198

This prompted Komori to look down, noticing the movement of his own feet. 
“Why?” the newcomer asked in dismay. “Why will you not help me?” Her black eyes were pleading with the man she had identified as the more helpful of the two. His feet remained still as her voice grew warped. “Why why why,” her voice continued, growing more agitated by the second. The air around the gathered trio appeared to grow colder.
The pink haired woman sighed as several tails appeared nearly out of thin air, the color of the fur matching that of her hair. Nine in total. “This is why I hate festivals. Full of laughter and good tidings, but also worry and doubt. A boy, not finding the courage to confess to the girl he likes. A child overreacting to merely losing a game at a stall. Minor tragedies like these coalesce and give life to- your word for them is ‘spirits’, I believe.” She spoke with an elderly condescension, though she did not appear to have been much older than he was. 

Her tails flashed with a speed he had not seen in quite some time. Energy, chakra, something coalesced around her tails and launched out at the girl before her. 

“My kind,” she said with pride, “sealed these creatures away in statues in days past, but it seems those seals are breaking,” she added indifferently. “Your ancestors-” Komori did not think to interrupt her to mention that he was not from this region. “-revered us properly. They understood the importance of tradition.” 

WC: 259
TWC: 1457