“I hear you picked up my mission.”
Shiori looked up at the edifice that was Suo, questioning look on his face.
“Yeah, I was going to go after some more scrubbing.” He replied, smiling. “Should be a challenge.” He braced himself pre-emptively…
...And still had the wind clapped from him by Suo, accompanied by a loud guffaw.
“Don’t be silly! I need my ninja out on the streets stopping those damned criminals, not here scrubbing my pots! Get out there!” He practically shoved Shiori out to the back of the kitchen, so quickly he still had his apron on. He shrugged his shoulders, stepping into the bustle of the street.
The sheer activity of Konoha always surprised Shiori, his home in the Moon country had been quiet, surrounded by forests. A tranquil place. Here, people spilled from every opening, bustling from one place to the next. No wonder pickpockets did well.
Pickpockets, yes! He needed to focus. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for anything suspicious. As he was a small boy, he was below head height of many people, making it tricky.
“Stop! Thief!” A woman yelled out. Shiori rushed forward, dodging effortlessly between individuals. He was getting used to his preternatural speed, a side effect of the power within his blood. He saw a small, shabby figure rushing away through the crowd, ducking expertly between legs and into an alley.
With a simple thought, Shiori stepped through, flickering to the mouth of the alley the pickpocket had rushed down. He took up chase, the boy unable to escape his supernatural pursuer. He focussed again, flickering as he was transported in front of the boy, bumping into him. Shiori looked down, seeing a reflection: messy hair, a tangle of malnourished limbs, dead eyes looking out from a pinched face.
“Please. I need it to feed my sister. If I give this to Fumio, he will give me money to buy bread.”
Shiori’s face was hard as he looked down at the boy. Shiori was poor as well, used to living off thin stews and homemade breads of poor grains. He had never considered turning to crime to bolster the family’s almost nonexistent income. He had gone out and developed, taken the long view. These beggars and criminals saw only the short-term gain. They would never get far, stuck in their track, destined to death in the gutter. They would never make something of themselves. They were weak.
“She will go hungry. You are coming with me.” The grip tightened, causing the boy to squirm. He dragged the boy out into the light and the accusing faces of the adults. As he stepped out, his hard look was gone, smile back on his face as he presented the lady her bag. He saw Suo striding through the crowd.
“I got the thief, Mr. Suo, like you asked! It seems they work for someone called Fumio.” Suo nodded as other people about how Suo was ‘getting involved in the community’ and ‘trying to make the district a better place.’ His fist clamped around the thief’s arm, a fleshy vice.
“I’ll take it from here, Shiori my boy. Get yourself back to work for an hour, then you can finish early.” The statement earned a chuckle from some other chefs who had come out to see what the commotion was.
WC- 560
Shiori looked up at the edifice that was Suo, questioning look on his face.
“Yeah, I was going to go after some more scrubbing.” He replied, smiling. “Should be a challenge.” He braced himself pre-emptively…
...And still had the wind clapped from him by Suo, accompanied by a loud guffaw.
“Don’t be silly! I need my ninja out on the streets stopping those damned criminals, not here scrubbing my pots! Get out there!” He practically shoved Shiori out to the back of the kitchen, so quickly he still had his apron on. He shrugged his shoulders, stepping into the bustle of the street.
The sheer activity of Konoha always surprised Shiori, his home in the Moon country had been quiet, surrounded by forests. A tranquil place. Here, people spilled from every opening, bustling from one place to the next. No wonder pickpockets did well.
Pickpockets, yes! He needed to focus. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for anything suspicious. As he was a small boy, he was below head height of many people, making it tricky.
“Stop! Thief!” A woman yelled out. Shiori rushed forward, dodging effortlessly between individuals. He was getting used to his preternatural speed, a side effect of the power within his blood. He saw a small, shabby figure rushing away through the crowd, ducking expertly between legs and into an alley.
With a simple thought, Shiori stepped through, flickering to the mouth of the alley the pickpocket had rushed down. He took up chase, the boy unable to escape his supernatural pursuer. He focussed again, flickering as he was transported in front of the boy, bumping into him. Shiori looked down, seeing a reflection: messy hair, a tangle of malnourished limbs, dead eyes looking out from a pinched face.
“Please. I need it to feed my sister. If I give this to Fumio, he will give me money to buy bread.”
Shiori’s face was hard as he looked down at the boy. Shiori was poor as well, used to living off thin stews and homemade breads of poor grains. He had never considered turning to crime to bolster the family’s almost nonexistent income. He had gone out and developed, taken the long view. These beggars and criminals saw only the short-term gain. They would never get far, stuck in their track, destined to death in the gutter. They would never make something of themselves. They were weak.
“She will go hungry. You are coming with me.” The grip tightened, causing the boy to squirm. He dragged the boy out into the light and the accusing faces of the adults. As he stepped out, his hard look was gone, smile back on his face as he presented the lady her bag. He saw Suo striding through the crowd.
“I got the thief, Mr. Suo, like you asked! It seems they work for someone called Fumio.” Suo nodded as other people about how Suo was ‘getting involved in the community’ and ‘trying to make the district a better place.’ His fist clamped around the thief’s arm, a fleshy vice.
“I’ll take it from here, Shiori my boy. Get yourself back to work for an hour, then you can finish early.” The statement earned a chuckle from some other chefs who had come out to see what the commotion was.
WC- 560