Fake Eating! [OPEN]

[Junan]

It was something he did to maintain appearances.

Eating out at Doku Ozomashii, a rather fancy dining location. It was a place which this shell (Junan) had frequented, and a place where Junan continued to frequent. The lack of a stomach of course made things like this a bit of a waste... if Junan hadn't been visiting this location before Junan was the Junan that Junan was Junaning, then Junan wouldn't be going now.

But that would cause some kind of alarm.

So it was that tonight was one of the two weekly visits to this restaurant.

Junan entered, he greeted the staff by name, had a laugh, and by anyones standards had a good night. He 'ate' his favorite meals, he slapped the waitresses ass, he did as Junan would have done before.

And Junan hated it. It was things like this which were a chore for him, a duty which needed to be done, living life like how others had told him he had to live it. This was one of the organizations orders. They forced him to do this, but Junan knew he couldn't do anything about that yet. He had to wait. A time would come. Patience was key, and Junan knew he had all the time in the world.

He ate his food and played the role of Junan, the dead man.

As he went to leave, his mind sank back into Junan, the man living.

Walking down the road the lights of the street illuminated his brightly coloured costume. The cracks of his heels on the paving stones rippled out in the evening air. He smiled and waved to passers by who Junan the dead would recognize. And he made his way into town.

Who knew what the night would hold for him.

Junan did hope it would be interesting either way.

 

[Junan]

But apparently it wasn't going to be.

Instead it was a very quiet and boring night where Junan walked unobstructed without seeing anyone worthy of note on his walk home. He arrived there where he flushed his toilet sausages and removed the liquid parts through the hose.

He hated nights like this. Nights where he had nothing to entertain him... they were the worst.

During nights like this he would spend time fantasizing about all manner of things. What would like be like if... his mind wandered... He was getting stronger, he could see it in his actions, could see it compared to the actions of his fellow shinobi.

Raising a hand before his eyes he balled it into a fist and then stretched them back out.

Yes, he was getting stronger, his knowledge becoming more sound, but he was also adding to the source of his knowledge. Naturally inscribing new jutsu withing the confines of his memory, no longer simply relying on what it was that the man who created him had given him. More and more becoming his own man.

Still though, he was controlled. Recent events had shaken the organisation though. One of their key members had been imprisoned recently, not a head member of a branch or anything, nothing that huge, but a member of similar standing to Junan. Someone who Junan considered a strong fighter. Also part of their poison production branch, and the man they relied on to keep things running. Without him around who knew what would happen over there, or how long things would be stalled for.

With Junan heading out to Stone tomorrow it would mean that they would be without him for the early period. He wondered if it was a deliberate plot so that they could remove any heat that might be on him in the near future and let themselves have a meeting to figure out their next steps. Junan meanwhile was being given a longer leash, he could do whatever he wanted, the goal was to make contacts in Stone and Sand, to make the operation international.

The idea of that level of freedom... it was... different.

Time would tell if it was good or bad.

And who for.

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