Mission all the stars a-bloom with flowers

[Shinrya Sachiko]

Please, please, please, where are you -- came the plea of a small girl in articles of red and eyes the same - of softness, sweetness and concern, overtaken by worried creases that guide the lines of her face back and forth in its motion. She would scan the streets that sprawled out in front of her, busied by shapes that passed, every turn their roads took a new mystery to pry from shadows and nothing but her own steady hands to do so. They came progressively less steadied as she jostled in place, tapping back and forth with a nervous shuffle that only appeared to somewhat help her building energy. It wasn't fear that drove her -- anxiety, mayhaps. A fear for something - or someone - not her own. It all drew from the same poisoned well.

It had been mechanical to take the mission request off the student office board; she needed the experience, both practical and literal, and a 'loose animal' wasn't an overwhelming obstacle. If anything, her natural physical prowess lent itself well to search & contain - and she liked the idea, romantically, of getting an animal back home. Working with them warmed her heart; they never minded the silence a person might excuse themselves from. People often did. It wasn't their fault they couldn't help their better, inquisitive natures, no matter how domesticated their lives - she wanted to be sure to do right by whatever was roaming.

The nerves, however, came from her debriefing of the creature en topic: it wasn't someone's pet. It was a feral wolf from the surrounding area, and this - and she quotes - asked for 'extra attention, and force if necessary.' Utsumi had a particular kinship with the hounds of the Konohagakure forests and was unwilling to a) allow it to suffer its confusion or b) allow anyone to deal with it martially. It was imperative she find it, and quick. Her mission, and therefore her nature as a Shinobi, demanded it: but her personal feelings urged stronger than a sense of duty.

She was lost. These streets were new to her and they seemed to stretch on forever, and nearly everyone walked by when she held out her hand to ask for help. Those that stopped couldn't wait for her to finishing writing her questions. She just needed to know if they had seen the wolf! Or if they had heard anything!! She wasn't going to drag them along --

A familiar face.

She didn't so much run as propel herself into Sota's line of sight, doing all but waving her arms before she'd bring them to her chest and start to sign - realize he probably wouldn't understand - and disregarded all formality to motion in a type of charade.
A questioning stance;
indicating him;
indicating herself;
pleading with wide eyes.

Will you help me?

 

[Akamine Sota]

There are three groups of people that tend to draw to the restless body of the Oak District. The producers; shopkeepers, restaurant owners, etc — the consumers; Sota and the bigger number of people that look to empty their wallets — then, neither a producer nor a consumer necessarily, (but perhaps Sota's favorite,) is the third group; tourists and window shoppers. Marks scattered across the commercial streets like video game coins waiting to be collected.

Here's the thing: Sota hasn't pickpocketed for some time now which leaves him feeling a little greedy, a little antsy. Keeps himself to the centre of a moving crowd, surveying over his shoulders for the perfect opportunity that never comes. What does arrive is a fourth group; one without a mind for materialism. One that just happens to be. She materializes from stardust and nothing, shoving herself into his space and forcing his plans to a halt, "fuck, you scared me." But the urgency in her hands alone is enough to uncurl his frown.

Instead, his brows roll together. "What...?" Venom dies down before it can surface, and his eyes race to follow Utsumi's gestures, hoping to catch words where there are none. "The hell are you flailing around for? Are you mute or someth — oh, shit, yeah."

Quickly, he looks away. Appears to be in thought for just a split second. Then, a hand, unlearned from what little history they have, lunges for her wrist. Grabs and pulls in the same way it did for their very first meeting, except, this time, it seeks to get them away from a crowd. Urges them toward an alleyway, instead.

"Where's your stuff? Write."

I'll help you goes unsaid.



—
wc 278 (278/250)

 

[Shinrya Sachiko]

There were a lot of reasons Sota might elicit a worried frown from another party - abrasiveness or disregard, namely, things that never bothered Utsumi about him. If anything his brash honesty brought her a sense of peace; of connection, honesty to honesty. The source of her softened expression in his initial response was therefore neither annoyance nor agitation. She was ... sad. Just briefly, as he addresses her in confusion, she felt a twinge of sadness that he might not have remembered her. She thought of him quite warmly: and if her troubles were forgettable, was she? No. She had to be better. She had to do better.

A panicked gasp was ungentle repose to crimson eyes clenched shut tight -- she remembered back to the last time his hand clung around her arm, firm but directed, and tried so desperately to remember that peace as if she could manifest it again now. Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me. It was the only mantra she could grasp to when pulled along - terror repeating in a trembling shape. Sota was no longer an invader, as he had been their first meeting - he was a friend, and her trust was placed in him. Trust was not, however, blind, and it especially wasn't insensate. She could feel the prick of her skin beneath his fingers. She could feel every alarm and every urge to jerk away and find higher ground, thrumming loudly through her blood. She just had to trust him. She just had to --

-- and it was over, wrenching away when he spoke again with quick, sharp breaths until the world stopped spinning. A sputter, shaking arms holding her shoulders until they stilled and she could offer him his reply. They had found privacy, and his agreement to assist came across the only way that mattered to Utsumi. Collecting herself like a switch flipped, hands spun in event across a page of her sketchbook until she could hold it out to him.

I'm on a mission to find him! He's from outside the village! I'm worried he'll get hurt or hurt someone. : (​

 

[Akamine Sota]

A habit that shapes your every other action is only unlearned by rote, and certainly not after a day or two. Sota knows this; would pepper it with excuses if given the chance. Yet, somehow, the repeat of a shaken wrist makes his heart give a lurch (???????? witch). Sews his tongue with acid and has him clamping down on the need to bark at her what scares you?

(And it's the question of what, the way she gets him to suppress — the way he reacts to another's anxiety as though his days on earth aren't outnumbered by what's to come in hell.)

Eyes signal returned focus with a blink. Finally, she speaks, and her scribbles are read twice; ask why and he'll cut you.

Wait no, thrice. Sota squints, even. Can't tell at what until he re-runs dual-citrine over the last word. It reads: "dog??????????????? That's. Fucking. It?"

"Who the hell cares about some — ghahhhhh." His head hangs over his neck, a scowl threatening to break his face in two. For a moment, his eyes stay shut. See a circular throbber above his head & wait for the conclusion to settle. Does so with a pop!, and he returns to face her and say; "alright, no, I haven't seen a shitty dog. You need help looking for it, or what?"

Yes. That's how he'll word it.



—
wc 224

 

[Shinrya Sachiko]

It didn't matter what he said - his language, coarse or direct or scathing, couldn't so much as draw a flinch out of Utsumi. She saw him for more than that veneer; it wasn't that he was wearing a mask she had seen past, more along the lines of knowing that wasn't the sum of what he was. Yes, he was abrasive by nature. He appeared to fight himself to respond appropriately and didn't instinctively lean towards kindness - let alone gentleness - in his approach. But he had. He was, still. His words belied intent, and intent mattered more than anything anyone could say for someone like Utsumi. All we had were our intents. Sticks and stones.

Her eyes softened from their determined helplessness, truly watching him for the moments that ticked by as he formulated his agreement, if not offer, to assist her: and she had known it was coming. She knew he'd try to do right by her. She trusted this intrinsically. Sota-kun, Sota-kun. My little knight, my little prince. She likened herself not to a damsel in distress (the mere idea retching) but an equal in need of a hand to overcome an obstacle too big for them individually. Thus, the nations were joined: let Utsumitopia and Sotaland pioneer these troubles together!

It was her turn to reach out with a gentle grasp and trace the outline of his arm, far more shy to grab and pull but urge a guidance with the brush of her fingertips. She tried to lead without a firmness - just faith. She had little in the way of direction or plan, but somehow his company sharpened her worried thoughts and pushed her legs into motion once more. Clarity and a regain of steadiness. They wouldn't possibly fail together.

As she directed them out of the alley, her head would lift and her nose would twitch - sniff, sniff - as if anything might come of it. Nothing did. She frowned. She scribbled out a thought, passing notes in motion. That works when Inuzuka-senpai does it. I can't smell anything important. : ( Do you think you could ask around, Sota-kun? It's hard for me to get their attention haha. Thank you so much! <3 A slowing moment, tapping between her feet again and craning her neck down a street. A pensive turn of her tongue in cheek. He's supposed to be in this district, but I can't tell if anyone's seen him yet. You think there'd be yelling! I'm glad there's not, but still! I'll check down the other end, meet back here?

She would scamper off one way at his agreement.

 

[Akamine Sota]

Easily swayed by a witch, easily removed from the alleyway; easily an idiot, is what Sota chants into the void of his mind. And he's never been much for a thinker, never traps his thoughts behind a net. Any word that threatens to spill, spills.

"Smell? You — what're you — " is a jumbled attempt. Puts his brows in another strain, begs him to yank himself out from her (soft) grip.

But the distraction of a note becomes just that: a distraction. And it isn't gentle, it isn't gradual. It's sudden — how a particular selection of words rid him of all thought. Pauses time as it is, freezes the world as he knows it. The words It's hard for me to get their attention line across his eyes, flash before him like a red light by train tracks. Hell, he even feels his gaze grow wider; something within it unspooling. Yes, something unspools in his eyes, and traps itself within the net of his mind. An absent "uh, sure," comes out, but as he takes to the opposite direction of Utsumi, he feels the first needle jab him hard. A throb. Fucking hears it in his ears. He doesn't know why, he doesn't know why, he doesn't know —

"A dog?" a woman before him tilts her head.

"Yeah, uhh... you seen a dog around?"

"Hmm... maybe? There are lots of strays around here."

"No, like... ugh, fuck. Forget it."

"Excuse me?"

But Sota is already walking. Trailing in an aimless direction, mulling over a quickly needed distraction from his first. A thought: If only the dog would slash his paws over a broken piece of metal, or something. At least then, Sota would be able to hear the blood. (Also a thought: Utsumi's notes would probably fill up with sad smileys, wouldn't they?)



—
wc 297

 

[Shinrya Sachiko]

The nervous shuffle of feet, light from a weight shared between two instead of one, shuffled still through dirt paving. The bustle was clearing where she headed, throngs of people reduced to stragglers she could entrap with a dual-armed wave. She would show them the picture she had drawn for Sota - the dog, the question, the concern - and they'd shake their heads no: first oft laughing and ruffling her hair, or sideways glancing in a turn of their noses. Neither reaction felt great, but the former hit a soft heart harder. She'd rather people think less of her than think nothing at all. She couldn't let it stall her feet. She couldn't fall off course. This was her first mission -- her helm would lead true!

She milled about for some time, wandering with purpose and determination in bright crimson that never seemed to wane off - a blood moon, high, demanding - and was rewarded with a sound down one of the bends. It wasn't loud, by distance and not by volume, but it pricked her ear all the same; and as she inched closer, she could pick out the keening. It was like kin. It was a sound her thoughts had made at a younger age, 'til she learned her own hands crafted her own escape. A cry of agitation, of hurt, of harm, for help.

She turned coarse along the side of the road, spooking a passerby that exclaimed and hopped back: but she had already set off back to her friend. Her neighbor. Her prince. She was fast, a clean sharpness to her movements that tore the earth under impassioned feet -- it couldn't take long before she returned to their meeting place to find Sota. Her arms waved, eager, excitable little jumps; a puppy at the door, unable to contain its joy at your return. Sota-kun, Sota-kun! : D I think I found it! : D I didn't want to do it without you!! : D : D : D This way, okay? She gave him little time to read her scrawls, planting the page with haphazard enthusiasm in his hands, then turned back where she came.

Whether she accidentally overshot and left him behind or not she'd soon round one, two more corners, only to find an arched wolf with a growling maw and dirt-dug paws at a street center. Small bands of worried citizens fanned around it. Bolder men busied themselves yelling at the beast and seemed to wind up for small-scale recourse - various long planks and rocks as if they could run off nature with human aggression. The wolf hadn't seen her yet, might have recognized her from a venture, but Utsumi's concern was not in familiarity -- she had to stop the escalation. Her mouth opened to yell; stop, wait!; trembling instead only a breath that gnashed her teeth back together.

A step flung her forward, tossing in a turn that splayed arms wide in front of the priming animal with her back to the beast and her plea towards the people. She shook her head, fiercely, trying in any case to get across that she was here to resolve the situation. Please, don't make this worse! Her dog-marked page fell from lifted hands in a flinch effected by the cacophony that dug at her, jeers from the crowd and snarls from the beast, and she seemed so very briefly unsure - genuinely lost - on what to do. Eyes found Sota, momentarily forgotten in her emergent response, and shone wide.

 

[Akamine Sota]

Utsumi's smile is all it takes to sheathe a boy's concerns. Their reunion, while short-lived — (her next words bury within his ready-and-open palms, and she turns and disappears into the crowd) — settles something unholy over Sota's heart. By the time his eyes run their umpteenth lap over smileys and exclamation marks, his jaw is tight; his throat raw.

Blinks up. Leads himself into the crowd, after her, wherever she might be.

And, wherever happens to be the neighboring street; the next building — perhaps two — over. Sota arrives, sees a stage; a coliseum. Utsumi leads the crowd's roar, and behind her waits her opponent. Wait. Behind . . . her? Is she fucking stupid?

No. Try again.

"Are you fucking stupid??????"

There we go.

A bark; thunders across their makeshift stage, calls the attention of the heavens, themselves. He shoots forward like a bullet. Crashes into bodies and shoves those that don't pick a side to lean towards quickly enough. Bulldozes through a brazen audience 'til he finds the stage. Arrives at ruby reds; wide and asking, and... is she asking to be beat up?

"Fuckin' — move," he spits again, jams a palm against man. Not to her, not to "Dog", but to the face that thrusts itself in their space. Their — yes, their space. Him and, well. The witch! The stupid, stupid — "dog? This is a dog?? You blind, too, or what???" is whipped over his shoulder, towards Utsumi. The hot sneer on his face, too, meant for her. He almost reaches his other hand, not to shove, but to grab. Doesn't. Not this time. Instead, slaps his fingers together in handseals the number of three:

Colors begin to dim. Faces are lost in a growing body of a mist. Darken, and darken. Until hearts begin to hammer with worry. Until panic devours the crowd. Fear of the unknown drives bodies into one another, births a full-blown discord. Perhaps not the best move on Sota's part, but hey. Here's his plan: "Get the fuck away from it before it mauls you, Utsumi." A twitch crawls its way over his hands. She'll move, right? She'll follow behind him if he shows he can lead the way out. Right?


—
wc 368
[Sota used Hidden Mist on everyone]

 

[Shinrya Sachiko]

And there was a moment, just a moment, lost at sea in this building mist - between Sota, between the lost wolf, between the confused citizens of Konohagakure - where something in Utsumi trembled. The tiniest fracture - a pebble on the surface of soft eyes. He was worried about her. Yes, his words were meant to scathe, but they held no candle to the weight on her heart - dragged by its anchor down, down, down - and the flush of heat beneath her skin. He was worried about her. Was she a worrisome creature? Itai.

She glanced around in hurried motions, scanning his back and the obfuscation that seemed to press in around them into their own little world - their own little nation, just a boy and a girl and their 'dog.' Her face felt hot. Her arms tapped and twitched nervously at her sides, and the sound of the beast grew in fearful temerity. Oh. She was embarrassed. She hadn't known what to do, she jumped straight in, and she embarrassed herself. Haha. That sucks.

Everything is reaching its fevered pitch. Again, her attention is split between more things than she had the experience to determine or implement for. Sota's growling mirrored the wolf's, but both demanded her resolution in equal amount. The people were fighting. Everyone was scared. Sota scared for her / the dog scared for itself / the people scared for their people. Utsumi stood alone, shamed and dithering, but not scared. Her arms flexed. Her jaw clenched. She sucked in a breath of mist - the taste of the chakra a reassurance from Sota, regardless of his intent - and she turned in a quick motion. She grabbed the wolf the size of herself with strength unknown, adrenaline and decisiveness pumping through silent limbs, and keeled her feet in for a start.

The beast snarled. It growled. It yipped, and it bit into a young arm, tearing viciously with defensive fangs until blood pooled out and over its muzzle. It continued to growl, and Utsumi continued to shift with its weight. She could still flex the muscle in her arm. It hurt, but she could still move it - that meant it wasn't broken. She kicked off and hauled through the mist in a mad dash, the momentum of her forward motion carrying the wolf with her - trapped but safe beneath firm & gentle touch - and into a bailed turn off the side of the street. She didn't stop for several seconds. That was the extent of how long she could go like this, and she managed the full time, running until built breath gave out and a labored huff deposited them both in another side alley.

She could still hear the chaos behind her. She could feel Sota's sure confusion - she couldn't focus on his distress while hers still pounded. Her blood thrummed and split and smelled to the wolf, and with raised haunches it hacked out another growl now that motion had ceased and lurched from her. Stared her down, on bent knees and bright eyes. A picture painted red in every shade. "You ... packmate," it barked, its speech weak and throat heavier. Lapped over its teeth not to taste but to clear. "What is ... this ... trickery? Why is Noregami here?" Its indication was itself - Noregami - and Utsumi waited a step. Held up her hand. Had to think, again. So much thinking today. "I want ... out."

 

[Akamine Sota]

Singing bells, crashing waves; a sound not of a stream but a torrent. Angry and ablaze at the suggestion of penetrated entry is Utsumi's blood, screaming for Sota to do something 'cause — well, why else other than he'd been right? A warning-turned-reality. Come the groan of a century. Loud, obnoxious, like he wants the world to know what the world is to him. Whipping his head around, again, doesn't land his eyes on a stupid witch for a girl. In fact, the sound of a river leaves him. Quickly creates distance, quickly pulls her in the opposite direction of where he'd hoped to go.

"FUCK." And, here, he means to break into another mad dash. Follow after her as though he is the dog. (Was turning into one, wasn't he?)

Spins, puts half his leg out, and — coughs out a lungful of air when a hand suddenly comes to seize his shoulder. Yank him back, into the ground.

Someone screams at him something. Knows it's for him & not the plethora of persons running around because that someone grips Sota by the collar of his jacket, pours over him angry words that Sota forgets to hear. In-between the boy's own gritted teeth, a word rests. A name. Waits to be called out, beckoned over the sea of others. He won't call for her. He'll bite on his tongue instead. He'll —

"Lemme — " "GAH!" shove the dangerous end of his blade into the claw that locks him in place. Dig it deeper, "GO — " twist it — "AGHHHHHHHH! — " 'cause he's feeling pretty angry, himself.



—
wc 267
tldr; utsumi gets some time 2 catch her breath + speak to her friend

 

[Shinrya Sachiko]

Noregami continued its engine-running growl, no longer postured aggressively towards Utsumi but unwilling to let down its guard - there was unspoken trust between the beasts of a pack that Utsumi hadn't yet earned, but had technically writ herself into. She was still catching her breath, for her merit. Her arm throbbed painfully and she blinked through it; animals weren't like people. The feeling of that scared maw clenching around her limb was too close to her own terror. They, too, had traits that left them at the whims of others. She would never blame them for lashing out. She almost wanted to apologize - in guilt for her absconding with its agency - but they had too much else to worry about. Oh. Is that how Sota felt when he grabbed her?

It finished its statement - near a plea as much as any giant feral wolf could proffer towards a tiny creature like her - and Utsumi sucked in through her teeth. Grit them in thought, brows furrowed as she tried to piece this out. What did he mean? Trickery? It didn't feel like he was referring to her forced relocation - they both presented themselves like they knew a bad situation had only been stopped from getting worse, regardless of where they were found now. She looked him over. Red met brown, canid in true contemplation at a level more primal than conversational. It was dangerous to meet a beast's eyes - a sign of submission - but Utsumi would show her belly if it meant understanding.

The wolf grunted and she nodded. They didn't need more than that - what they needed was an escape. Now that was part of Utsumi's repertoire! Who needed a plan when you could break through any obstacles? Gentle fingers, one stained and the other sure, traced along the dirt of their alleypath as the shouting only intensified behind them. Was that Sota-kun? She had to move faster, pushing her wounded arm through the sear with a glare of determination. The circle was complete and her own blood completed the ritual. Summoning Jutsu: The Scourge of Darkfang!

Spoiler: The Howling in Konohagakure

The rush of chakra, both through her body and the air around them, condensed itself into the shape of a wolf through the smoke of the jutsu. Its long, predatorial limbs paced through the obscura, digging sharps claws into rough gravel and sniffing out the scent of blood in the air. It grinned. A broad, animalistic grin, every hungry fang on display. "Pup." It growled with a force that shook her bones through her skin - earning something akin to a hiccup. "Oh ... packmate," it snarled the other direction, indicating Noregami. "Tategami," came the reply from the other wolf, lowering its haunches after their presumed greetings.

"What hunt are we on today, Pup? Is it that which tore through your human skin? Noregami, Noregami." His voice was big - dangerous - and Utsumi had to clap to tear his attention way from the tension he was building. She knew the pack contracted was built from various bands of straggler wolves, and that peace between them was bought on hardship - and broken too easily. She had no interest in igniting a dissolution. Scourge! Her voice echoed through his head, earning a beastly groan. He wanted to fight the name - oh, how he always wanted to fight - but Utsumi was too serious to argue with right now. The way she glared at him. Insolence! Funny, though.

"Fine, fine. Get him out, right? I can do that. Next time, though ..." It lingered in the air with a hint of beligerence. A beast's urge to rip and claw and tear away at prey: not complete escort missions. "Noregami. Why are you here on human soil?" He easily towered over their first wolf - Noregami - and this became more explicit as he moved over and closer, brushing along its side with a glint in deep rustic eyes. The smaller wolf trembled - not from fear, but confusion. Its sight seemed almost glassy under closer inspection. Intoxicated? "A compound ... a few. Wolves. Ours. Others. I ... got free. Was here." It chuffed, struggling to recall events that only seemed to worry Utsumi - she'd have to report this higher up. Regardless of intent - if wolves were truly kept in the village by someone - it was a situation that needed to be handled.

The two left after this with a sense of assurance that Utsumi would, too, resolve this, and that meant Utsumi alone remained in the chaos. It was just enough a distraction from the pain in her arm, but not enough of a distraction from --

She launched off again, no time for further consideration save returning to someone that had never made it with them - and if Sota hadn't trailed behind, something kept him from doing so. Retracing her steps was not hard - diving into the mist, however, stalled her only the second it took to force her legs to go. She didn't need her eyes to find Sota. She didn't need her voice to call to him. All she needed to do was move - and somehow, someway, they'd find each other. The jeering, confusion, rioting around her - it was tuned out with a deep breath, following into this that taste - the scent - of his chakra back to its source.

Her next appearance, in Sota's view, was her crashing in feet-first from offscreen into his assailant. A silent fist spun to ward off other ne'er-do-wells. This was also something she needed no time to deliberate, and no further thought was given save for rapid turns until her eyes fell on him again. A wide, beaming smile, finding peace in an instant. A thumbs up from her less ruinous arm. : ) !

 

[Akamine Sota]

A ticking clock looms in the back of his mind; Sota resists the urge to bring the kunai over his own head. The two tussle away, with the man crying out in a-many shades of discomfort while the boy thrashes around within his grip. Scene: a human manhandles a stray cat, said creature deals with it as any other stray cat would. 'Cause, see, next, Sota resists the urge to bring his blade over the man's head. Much harder of a temptation, and he nearly goes with it, nearly counts another punishment to an overgrown list, only to —

"AH!" witness a scene straight out of a video game. Teqqen 6, was it? Shit, it looked kinda cool, actually.

Waitwaitwait, fuck that. In fact, hear a record scratch and replay a goddamn fly kick from a little girl. Did Utsumi just save him? Instead of — I don't know — the other way 'round? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . why?

She flashes him the answer in the form of up-curved little corners, and he swears he sees the heavens slip a stroke of light through clouds, cast over her a flare from a foreign star.

Again, his muscles tighten up, and the face he offers to her is hard. Comes out sharp, pissed. Again, like an angry cat. Then, a moment, a second, and a third later — a crack. Sudden, like every other thing Sota does. One corner of his lips borrow her own, trip forward on a half-grin. Growing, growing, ever so slightly. 'Til he has to unbottle a snicker from his throat. "Fuck, that was kinda cool, actually. Looked a lil dumb, but... pfft, you should've seen his ugly face when your foot collided with 'im. Pft — "

"hahahahahaha!! Man, you're weird."

Then: a blink, and the grin is wiped right off his face. "Dumb, actually. Didn't I tell you not to let me catch you with another injury??" In fact, the curve of up goes down. Counting only a blink, expressions can crash and recover in new shapes; paint a wash of anger over tightly-knit brows as though she hadn't just culled a laugh from him. Thing is, Sota takes one step forward, and one step is enough to see the thick holes of viscera for what they are up-close. A (big) dog's bite(s?).

Eyes shoot up over her shoulder, over his own. "Where'd that — the beast. Hell did it go?" Then, they settle over her arm. Again, commanding platelets and plasma proteins to tend to her wounds. Harden the surface and tape up the leaks. Then, await excuses. Maybe some thank-yous (though, offer none in return). And, well. Notes. Hasn't seen those for some time now.



—
wc 455

 

[Shinrya Sachiko]

She couldn't help it. Their shared excitement had bloomed infectious; her eagerness to see him again, his surprise at her entrance, and the little snickers the two gave. She knew she should care that she was being admonished - she really had worried him, hadn't she? He was so, so sweet, this prince - but she was too wound up between her two-step and shuffled her feet like a puppy on the ground. They had an unconscious man nearby them. The rioting was calming, smaller skirmish noises within the mist, but it would remain tense as long as that lasted and until they knew the dog had been taken care of. It must be so tiring, she thought - so exhausting to be scared of not just your fellow man, but the beasts that roam and hunt with you. Who were you supposed to trust?

She lifted her hand between herself and Sota, as if she was going to touch him - just his hair or face or shoulder, anything to signal that she was okay and happy he was, mostly, too. An apology and greeting in motion, but she stalled. It wavered. It fell with a soft smile, fingers trailing at her side instead while he fretted about her. She wasn't quite able. She wanted to, maybe even to hug him once the healing was done in such pure gratitude, but she couldn't bring herself to move. The idea of a sigh on cherry rose lips. She held her smile instead, in place.

She responded with short little nods, as if to get back to the point of the matter, and flexed an arm that had now been healed twice by his efforts - his kindness - in ways that she still struggled to fathom. He was just a really nice person. He could say what he wanted, but he was so gentle on the inside. She appreciated that. She really enjoyed every side of him; he kept their interactions exciting, but calming. The bites left scars even despite his healing, winding and softened, but she realized it didn't hurt too much anymore. It had really, really hurt before, and she had been so glad she couldn't make sad little noises. She would have accidentally made so many of them, standing in front of him like this during the tending.

She tapped her feet, a call for time, and scribbled out for him to catch up.

( hi again Sota-kun! Thank you!!! You're a hero! I'm sorry i scared you! : (
The dog was kind of a friend of mine? I got against friend to help him out of the village!
BTW could you turn off your Jutsu haha XP )​

It was a big page of her sketchbook, her face peeking off the side of it and slightly behind with a single eye closed and the other bright; her tongue poking just below. She would follow it up during his routine fatigued response. Would you mind letting the people know it's all taken care of? I don't think they'd listen to me hehe. XP And if anyone's mean to you, I'll beat them up, okay?
P.S. I also think there's something weird here? I think there are more dogs in the Village. I'll have to talk to my Senseis about it!!! : 0

 

[Akamine Sota]

Ask and Sota shall receive. He'd wanted to see them again; her notes. Wanted a thank-you. So, it came to him in written form. One generous page ridden with doodles that carried the stronger magnet to everything else on the page. Draws his attention to them, locks it in place. There's especially a twitch, maybe two, at the little stickman surrounded by four little hearts. Four little hearts all for him. For Sota, for a hero. A twitch gives birth to a grin; he wears it big and proud. On a boy like Sota, it looks cocky. But to a girl like Utsumi... he wonders.

And when his eyes travel back up to meet her own, his muscles remember to tighten up. A small "yeah, sure..." drawls out of him, but it's easy to extinguish his veil whilst he searches through her own. Past eyes reminiscent of city lights at night. Past the sugar and sweets. Past firecrackers and sparkling sticks. Past a little... witch... one he's forgotten is a witch. Every second with Utsumi triggers memory failure.

But yes; She's a witch, she's a witch, she's a witch. And yet, the reminder isn't nearly as loud as he needs for it to be.

More notes, more demands. Shit, doesn't he hate being told what to do? —

XP And if anyone's mean to you, I'll beat them up, okay? —

well, yes, but isn't it closer to a question than a demand? "Yeah, yeah."

His shoulder rolls him around, drags his attention to a crowd that's managed to find themselves again. Draws in a big breath; signals him ready, and then loud — louder than a megaphone hopes to be —

"HEY, FUCKERS!!!!!!!! THE DAY'S SAVED!!! THE BIG BAD WOLF IS GONE 'N LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD HERE IS TO THANK FOR!!!!!!"

Best he gets is a few mutters and some displeased comments. A roll of eyes, annoyed looks, and a dispersing crowd leaves the two to their own little world. Sota is happy to return to it. "So, dogs? Your sensei? Whatever, I'm not gonna ask why you're friends with animals. I'm hungry," he huffs, goes to stick arms down his pockets. "So, y'know. I'm out."

Rolls his weight onto the balls of his feet. Jerks his chin up. Adds: "See ya around, Utsumi."

& once a goodbye is returned — (he waits) — Sota steps off in an aimless direction, once more needing to get away before properly getting away.



—
wc 404 (error)
[topic exit after utsumi's post]

 

[Shinrya Sachiko]

There was so much of import to consider - how she was going to report any of this, if Tategami was able to safely get Noregami out of the village, some kind of confusing and chaotic and dangerous operation - the people milling around them, thanks to Sota's delicate dismissal that drew an honest, immature grin across her lips --

Ah, but, she mostly just wanted to talk to him?
How much time could she buy with the strokes of her pen?
Which would be the boldest?

She could feel a rumble in her chest, secure, and knew through instinct and connection that Tategami was able to get past the leaf guards with only a mite of trouble. A mite of trouble, she was made aware, she needed to come down and handle; because he wasn't here for this, and he was dismissing the summoning as soon as she could cover for Noregami. Well, today couldn't get any more messy.
The colors of her heart, though, maybe a little?

Sota-kun, she had written down, stalled and staring at the page while he waited with obvious impatience to dismiss himself. She lingered for too long. He was going to get huffy with her, but even hearing him scold or bark in that fashion he did felt -- homely. He liked spending time around her. Right? She felt like he liked spending time around her. She wasn't a generally unconfident person - she was pretty certain their friendship was mutual - but to what bounds could she stretch that? How long would he stay for, while she poured over everything she couldn't picture in writ? These were too many questions for someone that couldn't fit that many words in a single thought, let alone a page. Thank you.

It took too long, but he had waited to receive it. She beamed at him, so gentle beneath the aging afternoon soon, and her hand brushed his for the briefest of moments that she passed the note into his hand. That would be enough. This had been really nice.

I'll see you later. : )

[ mission end ]

 

[Sazuki Nao]

Utumi's rewards are approved