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A Meeting of Shinobi
Today at 3:16 am
Hara walked up to the teahouse, bending down to enter in through the doorway he paused briefly at the entrance and adjusted the cuffs of his robes. His recent missions had afforded him a new purchase of some simple black robes with a black undershirt. He also made sure to get some cleaner wraps for his head and hands, as his old ones had gotten raggedy from his lack of care for them. In addition to his black robes he wore his sash tightly to his waist, the Hyuuga clan symbol proudly faced outwards and resting on his right hip. As he entered he nodded silently to the attendant, wordlessly being led back to his usual booth.
Hara sat at his booth and quietly sipped on his tea. He had taken to visiting the Black Market and people watching. He could learn a lot by doing that. He listened to people as they talked about various illicit deals, and occasionally used his Byakugan to check each exit of the tea house he was in. It had been months since the forest, and yet he still couldn’t shake the feeling of paranoia. Like everything around him was a threat. He sipped on his tea again and listened in on a conversation about some sort of shipment moving across a border.
His time in the hot springs had been interesting, he generally didn’t enjoy civilization, but the hot springs were also a pretty sparse place and the illicit nature of the land meant he could get away with being less than a friendly person. Despite that, he could feel himself getting stir crazy. Staying put was never Hara's strong suit especially after his exile, and he shuddered briefly at the thought of having to stay put in one place for his entire life.
The tea house was busy that day, a host of new boats coming into harbor. Travelers from all over flowed into the place. The place was filling up quickly, and the low mumble of multiple people carrying on multiple conversations vibrated through the room. Smoke had begun to form its own layer just below the ceiling filling the building with a pungent aroma of tobacco and potpourri. A mandolin played hauntingly beautiful music from a corner of the teahouse.
Hara continued to eavesdrop and listen in on peoples stories as they recounted their adventures away from the hot springs. He enjoyed living vicariously through them and their tales of adventure. He listened intently as people talked of daring smuggling routes, or a violent clash at some border of a village. He longed again for the open road, sleeping under the stars and making an impact on the world.
As he eavesdropped He sketched an oarfish on a napkin,Sipping his tea quietly and thinking about all the big plans he had for himself. The oarfish had been a creature that Hara had thought about for a long time. When Hara was a child he was always so afraid of seeing one, to see one spelled destruction. But, he knew better now. They weren't things to be looked at with fear but joy, for they were harbingers of hard times, and hard times made strong shinobi. To see an Oarfish would be a gift. He continued to sketch on the napkin, filling in small details as he listened to the din of conversation begin to fill and rise in volume as more people filled the teahouse.
wc: 576
Hara sat at his booth and quietly sipped on his tea. He had taken to visiting the Black Market and people watching. He could learn a lot by doing that. He listened to people as they talked about various illicit deals, and occasionally used his Byakugan to check each exit of the tea house he was in. It had been months since the forest, and yet he still couldn’t shake the feeling of paranoia. Like everything around him was a threat. He sipped on his tea again and listened in on a conversation about some sort of shipment moving across a border.
His time in the hot springs had been interesting, he generally didn’t enjoy civilization, but the hot springs were also a pretty sparse place and the illicit nature of the land meant he could get away with being less than a friendly person. Despite that, he could feel himself getting stir crazy. Staying put was never Hara's strong suit especially after his exile, and he shuddered briefly at the thought of having to stay put in one place for his entire life.
The tea house was busy that day, a host of new boats coming into harbor. Travelers from all over flowed into the place. The place was filling up quickly, and the low mumble of multiple people carrying on multiple conversations vibrated through the room. Smoke had begun to form its own layer just below the ceiling filling the building with a pungent aroma of tobacco and potpourri. A mandolin played hauntingly beautiful music from a corner of the teahouse.
Hara continued to eavesdrop and listen in on peoples stories as they recounted their adventures away from the hot springs. He enjoyed living vicariously through them and their tales of adventure. He listened intently as people talked of daring smuggling routes, or a violent clash at some border of a village. He longed again for the open road, sleeping under the stars and making an impact on the world.
As he eavesdropped He sketched an oarfish on a napkin,Sipping his tea quietly and thinking about all the big plans he had for himself. The oarfish had been a creature that Hara had thought about for a long time. When Hara was a child he was always so afraid of seeing one, to see one spelled destruction. But, he knew better now. They weren't things to be looked at with fear but joy, for they were harbingers of hard times, and hard times made strong shinobi. To see an Oarfish would be a gift. He continued to sketch on the napkin, filling in small details as he listened to the din of conversation begin to fill and rise in volume as more people filled the teahouse.
wc: 576
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