A picturesque moment

He had started the morning exercises in the training grounds in a more secluded area than normal…this place was attached to the wildlife reserve and had a natural waterfall, the Jounin had just finished a run and basic calisthenics when he decided it was time to train resistance in the waterfall. He meditated in the hard pouring water for more than an hour as the cold water soon numbed his entire body as it beat down upon him. He was oblivious to the world around him as his mana resonated with the natural chakra around him, he began to heat the water, feel the earth under his ass, and feel a fire welling up inside his chest. He was strong with how he was now, but was he truly ready to take the steps that were needed to become the kage and rebuild his home, the crown jewel that he has devised and plotted going after for quite some time. He now held adequate power, knowledge, and connections to do as he needed, but still there was doubt. It stemmed back from when he was hunted, and now here he was…a hero, an unknown soldier in a force that could decimate most armies, a name…that is all he would be…that was all he could be…for now. Miyamoto Terumi would soon rise again and he would be the rightful heir to his birthright…the village of Amegakure.

He soon stood up and exited the waterfall as he swam back up to the shore. He needed to retrieve his clothes, as it was…he was only wearing the black training pants and he was drenched in water, his body was rolling in steam as he exited the water and moved back to a shady tree to dry off and get his shirt back on.


WC:300

Such a question permeates the mind of a certain Uzumaki named Shobu, every day and every night. There have been many tales and fantasies where a character, in one way or another, quoted this query in different ways. All of them come to the same sentence, one way or another, and in these stories, that 'when' always gets answered. Reality, however, was cruel in the sense that there will probably never be a 'when'. Though humanity can be wonderful in many ways, more often than not, they'd rather choose violence rather than their words; their weapons over their pens. That's why she would not fall to such frivolous means of displaying control of her own life. No, Shobu of the Uzumaki Clan would not become a violent killing machine. So, if that's the case, then what is she doing right now?

Searching for her next muse.

Most of Hoshigakure has gotten used to her pacifist antics by now, so the little who don't know were in for a treat when it comes to meeting this chubby little lady. Dressed in a rather odd for the time styled black gothic dress, with all the frills you could ask for, paired alongside an equally dark colored beret and a frilly choker, she peruses the training grounds for potential candidates for her next art piece. Just like home itself, she can certainly tell that this place was like a river... constant, but always changing in the smallest of ways. So many ninja and kunoichi have passed, trained and made memories here, but not a single one has been created for her. This will have to be fixed through the power of art. Her canvas and painting materials are carefully held in a backpack, allowing her to easily talk to the various shinobi without dropping everything all over the place. No luck for her yet, though. Seriously, where was all the interesting ones? At the very least, she was pointed into the direction of the waterfall district. Perhaps the nature in that area would bring her better inspiration?

... What she expected to find here is not at all what is found, though. Standing at the shoreline which leads into the majestic, flowing waterfalls is a man of taller stature to her, with probably the most rippled physique she's ever laid eyes on in this village. Steam was trickling right off of his body, coinciding with the water that dripped downwards, the opposite of the steam. There's little left to the imagination with him only being in damp pants, and with all the scars that riddled his body, combined with a handsome face and pretty hair to top it all off, suffice to say that Shobu was now totally and utterly inspired, if not just infatuated. Quickly she stumbles over to Yamato, her cheeks nearly as red as her lovely crimson hair, and without even skipping a beat, she excitably asks, smiling and chipperly toned...

"Hey! My name is Shobu Uzumaki. Can I paint you?"

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Yamato hears the sound of footsteps and he blinks as he looks around to see what was coming towards him. Seeing that there was a smaller female pacing up to him so he stopped putting his shirt on and looked at her before hearing the feminine voice of the rather cute looking kunoichi asked if she could paint him. He was thinking to himself that he would not be surprised anymore by this village yet here he was…with the metaphorical egg on his face. The red faced woman was asking him if she could paint him, apparently she was an artist that was already in the area and he would have to either lie, or come up with an excuse to get away, or just tell this woman he was not interested…yet as he took a look at the woman he gave her a smile and nodded.

“I think it would be fine if you wanted to paint me. Though I gotta say that I am not 100% sure what about me attracted you. I would be honored if you used me in your painting, the name is Shinrei Yamato, Hoshigakure jounin. A pleasure to meet you Shobu, and if I might be as bold to say, your red cheeks are quite the sight.” He said as he extended a hand, it radiated heat as the water had since evaporated from his skin.

WC: 250
TWC:550

"Oh, bollocks, he actually said yes," Shobu thought, realizing just how bold she was in coming up like that in the first place. Really, she didn't know what came over her in this moment of weakness, but she can't say she's complaining. "I-I can't belive this super cute guy actually said yes... I was so certain he'd say no... come on, you can do this! Just go with the flow, he won't know any better." Bashfully, she rubs her flushed cheeks and sighs dreamily, swiftly taking their hand and shaking it rapidly, before she takes a few steps back, beginning to take off her backpack, and setting it on the ground in front of herself. Given what she was about to do, she needed proper set up, and that required her pulling out a small wooden contraption from the bag first. Once it's transformed into its actual form, that being a canvas stand, she plants it firmly into the ground below, shaking it a little to make sure it was stable and level. The tension of the moment for her increases as she continues by pulling out the actual painting canvas itself, and puts the big white rectangle on the stand, taking a few more peaks at the man she's about to put into art form.

"U-um... thank you for your kind words, mister- and, it's very, very nice to meet you., too. If you wanna know what made me want to, uh, paint you, it's because... well, I'll be frank, you look really hot, and your scars... I don't know where you got them, but they're definitely something I can paint with immense detail. It contrasts your figure very well... and it speaks to your experience, despite whatever age you are." That's the best way she can explain why she chose him, her hands next fishing out her brushes, followed by the painter's palette, it being made of similar wood to the stand. Finally, she looks side to side, and gasps as she realizes she'd need a seat. Silly her! That won't do, she couldn't paint him with proper technique if she's standing up! Not wanting to change the spot she chose, she wanders over to one of the nearby hollow tree trunks, and attempts dislodging it from the earth below, so she can roll it over to her desired area... but, it's clear that she's not very strong, as she's struggling to even move it a centimeter, grunting and groaning quietly. While she pushes onto the log, she looks up at him with a nervous smile, deciding to continue the conversation.

"S-so... what do you do? Well, I mean, what rank, and all of that... I assume you're a ninja... since, I mean, the water is literally steaming off your skin. It's really cool, but, it probably means you're really powerful, and important... kind of surprising you'd want me to steal your time, all things considered," she remarks, biting onto her bottom lip. The amount of answers that could come from him as a result of her speaking in such a manner could be a lot, but she really hopes he'll continue flattering her. If there's one part of being around people she adores, it's when she finds someone that pampers her to no end. Possibly it's from her spoiled upbringing, but she's never really had much luck with men... maybe this will be her turn around? Only one way to find out.

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Yamato smiled as she looked stunned when he gave her the answer she was apparently not expecting. Then as she returned the greeting with thanks and then began to answer his questions on why she would want to paint him he heard her say that he was hot and he grinned. He did not say anything just yet as she eyed him and spoke about his scars, seemingly interested in where he got them or what they were caused from and then ending with the adage about his age he nodded at her with a snarky grin. “Well that is the first time I have heard about scars being seen as hot, but you know what…I am going to roll with it, as for their causes…well most are from missions, but some have deeper tales that I might be persuaded to tell them. As for my age, I am taller and better built than most at my age I guess you can say. I am eighteen years old, but with experience You can probably place me in my mid twenties.” He teased as he waited for her to give him an order on stance, but since she did not he stood there with his legs spread at a comfortable length, and his arms were crossed, causing some of his muscular definition to come to light, as well as hide some wounds that were near his heart.

When she asked him what he did, Yamato saw there was more to ask and he let her speak once more as he did not wish to interrupt. She commented on being a ninja and of the steam that rolled off of his body and he looked around and noticed the steam slowly dissipating. Her next words about him being important was something that made him feel a little joy because he wanted to make sure he was at least able to protect this village, because that would pave the way for his next steps. “I…”He remembered he introduced himself as a Jounin of the village not but a few moments earlier and he was about to bring that up, but rather than to make this awkward he just chalked it up to jitters from meeting suddenly. “I am a Jounin of the village and leader of Team Winter. I was involved in the defense of the village and will be participating in the Nova Tournament in the coming weeks. Other than that, I am actually childhood friends with our dear leader Ayato Hyuuga and as for the water evaporation and steam coming from my skin…that is because of how I am training in my fire chakra and I try to ensure I can survive in any environment I am placed in.” He would answer with the truth, albeit only half of it as a few scars would be prominent now, like his left arm above his elbow looked to have a circular scar going across the entirety of that appendage. A couple of other scars on either side of his lower torso showing he at one time had to have extensive surgery. He was decorated in these scars that showed that his life had been difficult, but the smile on his face showed something different, something warm and relaxed.

“So is there a specific pose you would like to see me in, or shall I just stand still and let you get a good profile of my entire body?” He asked with that same smile on his face that showed he was at least a good sport and was willing to tease or joke around.

WC: 603
TWC: 1,153

Intrigue turned to genuine curiosity, and further it morphed into heavy infatuation. Love has always been a sore subject in Shobu's life when it comes to actually dating other people, having had the worst luck possible when it comes down to it. Most would be too offput by her meek demeanor, of which prevented her from taking risks to be more 'exciting'. Others disliked her figure, as despite finding herself at least a little bit pretty, her more plump form left some to be desired for all the active shinobi in her village. Regular citizens wouldn't even touch her, as they've all seen her as some sheltered, prissy rich girl that's never had to lift a single finger in her entire life... which is partially true, but that didn't make it hurt any less. After all, was her efforts to help her home through passive means not enough? Her medicine has probably saved lives, her seals guarded many letters, and she at least likes to believe that her food of all the goods she created was filled with her warmth and love. But now, despite all the hardships, her need for companionship was spiking right into left field, and she saw a certain maturity in this young man that may make her be able to finally share her values in a meaningful manner. It'd have to start with the painting. Can't go too far into his life... though he did say he could be 'persuaded'...

Deciding to only answer his question first before commenting on anything else, she bites her thumb as a way to help herself think, staring intently over at Yamato to decide how his scars could be shown off in a meaningful way. An idea pops into her head after a minute of this, and she smiles bashfully behind her canvas, staring over at him with her honey amber colored eyes. There's definitely a part of her that wanted to throw herself right onto him, to smother him with her intentions and compliments, but she's at least able to keep herself controlled. Shobu knew enough about romance to know that this would be an easy way to get her target of affection perturbed, and he'd run away almost immediately, she bets. "Hmmm... I think I know what you can do. I want you to get into a position that helps you think, yeah? Then hold that pose for me. It'll show me the man behind the body a lot more, to see how you ponder the world around you, and even yourself." That was profound enough, right? Good enough, anyway.

Regardless of if he does what she asks, she'll start to get her paints ready on the palette, and prime the canvas with a bit of priming liquid, humming to herself quietly. Figuring it's the greatest time to comment on everything he has said, she clears her throat and begins. "Sooo... you're friends with our Kage? How did that happen? It's not every day you can say you're childhood pals with such an important figure. It may have something to do with your scars as well, I bet... at least, some of them. Oh, and to tell you why scars are hot... that's a bit of a subjective field I feel is inappropriate for the professional atmosphere I want to have while I'm painting you. I'm sure you can understand that. Maybe afterwards, though... you could... take me to your place. Assuming you want to talk about it more, anyway. Up to you..." she mumbles that last part, her confidence waning at the last minute. What was she doing? She just met him! But she wanted him so bad... if not now, she'll never have a chance. Other women should be flocking to this dude, in her eyes. How could they not? So she'll have to claim him first! Or at least, learn he isn't all that. That, however, is highly doubtful with the picture she has of him so far.

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It did not take her long to answer him on what to do about the position she could paint him. She offered to let him get into a position that shows her what helps him think, to which he nodded and then took a fluid step towards her before he would sit on the ground, crossing his legs and laying his arms on his lap. It was a traditional meditation stance, but it caused his abs to flex and his core to look defined for her as he breathed in and out as he slowly closed his eyes as if to cleanse his mind of anything that was troubling him. This position was easily the most defining for the shinobi. It showed that he was practiced enough to know how to find peace in any situation, dedication to his craft, and finally that he had seen enough hardships to learn the most beneficial use of meditation.

As he let her set up he was like a practiced monk and did not move a muscle, yet he did watch her and have a smile on his face, different from the stoic look he normally gave off. When he was younger he had neither the patience, nor the time to do this…he only wanted power, but now…now he was taking things as they came up. The world was opening a path for him and he was most definitely the protagonist of his own story. As she asked about his relation to the kage he smiled. “I met Ayato after coming out of the academy…he was my biggest rival and my closest friend. I began my shinobi journey at the age of 6 and quickly found myself in over my head…so when me and Ayato trained, I was always one step behind him and wanted to gather more strength…however in my quest I found that we often intersected because our paths were similar. We fought tooth and nail against people that wanted us dead, and I actually thought he had died when Hoshigakure was attacked by a giant once. I actually was jealous of his power and knew that another member of Team Winter, Geniveve was actually eyeing him, and it created this large triangle in which…well it made no sense. Regardless, I am back in Hoshigakure on his behalf anyway so I owe him…a lot.” He said with a small smile, there was definitely much more to this tale he had sputtered out, but he also seemed to be a bit worked up as he looked Shobu over and listened to her explain a bit about the fixation with the scars. However she did try to say something under her breath, but Yamato’s ears were trained for the line of work he was in, so he smiled and winked at her. “I heard that by the way, and who knows…maybe after the paint dries I can show you around my place.” He said as he chuckled softly before going back to his disciplined pose.


WC:502
TWC:1,655

"Ah... perfect~" Shobu would remark, as she watches her muse sit right down and begin to take what she believes is some sort of meditation stance. Not one to complain at the sight, she doesn't even hesitate to stare at his remarkable, defined figure being shown off, even if accidental. Perhaps she has taken a subject too distracting to let her paint properly... but she could challenge herself this way, too! Exactly what a muse should be for someone so integrated in the arts as she. Regardless of how much she was enjoying every ridge and crevice his chiseled frame provided, she would not let that deter her from creating the perfect image to capture the moment in time forever. Maybe this portrait could make it into an art museum of some kind one day, where generation upon generation could enjoy her lovely painting of a very important and distinguished man. That's doubtful to her, however. This painting, after all, was mostly for her own pleasure in the first place, and now that the muse in question is beginning to invade her usually pure thoughts? It's out of the question that she could possibly pass this off as some masterpiece. She'll probably just hang it up in her room instead, where she could gaze at it in case hanging out with him goes south. At least she'd have this to go off of in her dreams...

Needless to say, however, the amount of baggage Yamato has to unload about his past catches the Uzumaki woman off guard. What he says is only a snapshot of whatever he's gone through, yet she feels like he already knows a big chunk of his life story. The story of the giant was one she even remembered, seeing as that was one of the moments in Hoshigakure's history that caused Ayato to rise to his fame and claim the title of Kage in the first place. To think all this time, just this one man was intwined with the village even more than she already thought... its as inspiring as it is concerning, truthfully. From the way he talked about his past, she's certainly glad he's less reckless than he used to be, as it means they get to at least be here now, talking to each other, instead of him being dead in a ditch. Shivering at the thought, she finally manages to bite her blushing back once he's stopped talking, to resume his positioning and allow her to actually paint. Gods know how difficult it was for her to do that, especially after he claims to have heard her, that wink sending goosebumps along her skin.

For a good ten minutes, silence is all that is between them, except for her occasional glances up at his sunny smile, and her hiding her embarrassment at seeing it. This was to allow her to trace out the general build she's working with, which would make it easier for her to paint later, as well as to make sure the background behind him was scaled appropriately. Finishing this up, she sighs out as she starts off with the waterfall, making nice swirled blues roll down the canvas like the roaring falls themselves, taking great care in its detailing with additive shading, using whites and light blues for generous contrasts. During this, she speaks up again, clearing her throat to make it sound less hoarse. "W-well... that's certainly a story. Mine isn't very interesting in comparison, to be honest... I'm just a pacifist. Don't really like hurting people, or stealing, or any of the actual kunoichi business... I only joined the ranks to have access to medical information, so I could help the public out more often. Plus, I still want to help all of you out, too, even if I don't agree with the violence... it's... needed. It simply won't come from me, is all." Her chest puffs slightly, as if trying to be confident in her words. All it does is make her look a little silly.

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Watching Shobu paint was actually relaxing as she seemed to only be interested in taking in the scene as it was and his mind focused on her. Her red hair seemed to flow with the wind and she did nothing to stop it as she was in her “zen” headspace. He then saw her determined look and he had to admit it was cute. She was a beautiful woman, but he could only find things he liked about her as he looked. Things some would call flaws, he only saw quirks and then there was the draw to her eyes…they looked intense, warm, and compassionate…it was a look he missed in his life for quite some time.

The silence was serene, the sound of the water falling behind them, and then the sunlight accentuating her curves, and just her in general. Yamato was already dry and he could control his body temperature accurately due to his training, but he still found himself getting warm as she periodically looked over and smiled at him.

When she finally spoke after listening to his story she started with telling him that her story was not unique or all that fetching…which only caused him to look and listen more as he was not looking for something unique that caught his interest…he was looking for something real…
So as she admitted she was more into the arts and a pacifist he nodded and looked happy with her proclamation. “Being a pacifist is not an easy path in this line of work, but I do commend you on it, and honestly I hope that my work can ensure that you never have to trouble yourself with getting your hands dirty…”He admitted as he gave a blush and smile as he had to look at the grass for a moment.


WC:309
TWC:1,963

For once, she'd found someone to commend her pacifistic ways, rather than mocking it or simply disagreeing with the notion. His admittance of the fact actually caught her in the middle of an important brush stroke, her painting utensil comically falling out of her fingers when she accidentally pokes a hole through her canvas in shock, letting out a shrill cry upon realizing it. Those words of his ended up throwing off her concentration, so now she's both trembling with frustration at herself for having ruined her own painting, but also making herself look like a complete and utter fool in front of the guy that had started to flirt with her. "S-stupid brush! Bah!" She squeaks out, before grasping the canvas and pretty much punching it into shreds. In a rare moment of anger, she makes any semblance of salvaging her artwork a moot point, shreds of hard paper and pieces of wood scattered on the ground. When she's done, she's panting from having spent so much energy on destroying her prized art. That's when she finally crosses her arms, and pouts, looking off to the side and doing her very best to hide a small bit of tears welling underneath her eyes.

"... Sorry you had to see that. I, um... I'm not used to people wanting to keep me out of combat. Guess it made me not think straight out of surprise, then... this happened. It was going so well, too..." While he might think she's talking about the painting going well, she's in fact thinking about all the flirting that was being done. There was no way he'd want to stay with her after a childish outburst like that, right? Nothing has gotten her that worked up in a long time, so it was rather embarrassing to witness it herself. Not to mention, art supplies aren't exactly cheap... not that she's hurting for money, but it doesn't do anyone any favors to throw away perfectly adequate canvases. Pouting with her lips puffed slightly, she uncrosses her arms to begin gathering up her supplies, deciding it's best to get the rest of this meeting over with. Little hope clung onto her heart with what has happened, but as the wooden stand is the last part of her makeshift studio to be packed, she totters over to the man who may or may not still be sitting, and does her best to make eye contact with him, her hands fidgeting and her body shaking with nervous tension.

"Understandable as it might be to not want to talk after that... uh... I-I wouldn't mind it if you, like... I don't know. Came home with me. I've got no more will to keep making art of you right now, but... there's lots to do in my room. We could read... play games... you know, regular adult stuff, instead of military nonsense. Assuming you're into that, the invite is, uh... open. Right, see you if you want, Yamato." Hopefully before he can say or do anything else, she quickly leans over to try and kiss him on the cheek, then turns on her heel and attempts to run off, secretly hoping that he'll want to follow her to her humble abode. Back way in the deep recesses of her mind, there's a lot of doubt that he'll want to, but at the very least she's content with having left a pink lip gloss mark on his face, leaving him with a more pleasant memory of her than what just occurred. She doesn't bother to look back, at least for now, focusing on running her way home to push past the humble mistake she's made today. "Feelings are stupid..."

[EXIT.]

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