Entering the village had been a simple chore. It was more about checks and balances more than anything else. The last time Uri had set foot into the darkness of Sunagakure he had been a young teenager, unsure of himself, naive to the world and everything it had to offer. Reason would only dictate that they confirm he was who he said he was. Not that anyone would be able to imitate Uri's unique personality, or abilities for that matter. Being home again flooded him with a myriad of emotions and memories of his time spent in this illuminated passageways. The deep, earthy smell that his form had lost traveling for so long, the slight chill of the air that filled his lungs.
As he passed through the residential area, he could recall houses and developments to where he had delivered his family's pottery to, the families that had lived there. Those places still brimmed with life and energy. He remembered them all, but would they remember him? Uri was no longer the ignorant teenager running errands for his family's business. Over the decade he spent out of the cavernous village he had grown into a man. So strange to think that he was twenty-eight when the last memories he had of the village were when he was still a teen.
Regardless of his age, however, there was one thing that had never changed about the stone-loving shinobi: His adoration of sweets and confections.
That was what brought him to the Grand Palais. Ever since he had been a little kid, able to scrape together coins off of the street, he would stop in at this bakery nestled onto a corner of businesses. Cream-filled cakes, mini-pies, flaky, buttery rolls that you would put honey on. Even in the middle of early-morning rush, he would push and shove past the adult's towering bodies and wedge his hand up to drop the change onto the counter. Even though his face would be hidden by all the bodies, the kind woman who ran the bakery would always manage to place some sort of sweet treat in his hand. Out of everything else in the village, this was one place he could never forget. As he grew up and things changed, it didn't. To a little kid growing up in darkness, the brightness and life that bakery brought to his life helped inspire him onward to greatness.
Lollipop from the gates thoroughly finished, he chewed nonchalantly on the wooden stick as he casually walked down the road. Somewhere inside was telling him he should have found the place already, and he almost resigned to being lost when he heard the chime of a doorbell. While many shops had them, this one had a unique ring. Turning, he smiled wide as he spotted the bakery. Since the Grand Palais was built like it was, much of the bakery's scents were taken away along with the smoke from the oven to the surface. Once he was in proximity, he caught the scent of breads and cakes. Pausing outside the polished stone surface of the storefront, he smiled wide, reading across the sign adorned just above the door. In gold letters on a navy blue background read Just in Chime Baked Goods.
As he reached forward to push inward, he stopped and thought better of it. He removed his traveling pack and cloak and let them sit against the wall outside. He didn't need to bring in so much dirt, dust, and sand into their establishment. It would be a terrible way to make a new first impression.
There were numerous shelves carved out of polished stone. Wood was a more rare commodity in Sunagakure since Wind Country didn't really support much greenery, so normal furniture couldn't be constructed from it; a surprise to Uri when he visited other countries and found wood in abundance. The golden crusts and glimmering frostings called out to him as he paced the store, taking everything in, basking in the aroma of freshly baked goods. There was never anything quite like homemade sweets from a place one remembered so fondly. No one was behind the front counter, but they knew he was there thanks to the bell. Leaning over it, he peered into the back to see if he could spot the kindly woman or her husband who had always taken such good care of him.
"Haaaaaaai? Obaaaaaaaasan? Are you in?"<i></i>
After enough years of coming back, he had developed quite the rapport with the female owner, up to the point that she had become almost like a second mother to him. Settling back onto his feet once again, he looked around and let out an 'Aha! as he spotted the smooth mineral vase decorated in blue scenes of farmers harvesting grain resting on a shelf behind the counter, in the far corner where it traveled into the rear of the store. He had made that as a going away present to the family before setting off out into the world.
Hopefully Obasan would arrive soon. His sweet tooth was begging to be sated.
As he passed through the residential area, he could recall houses and developments to where he had delivered his family's pottery to, the families that had lived there. Those places still brimmed with life and energy. He remembered them all, but would they remember him? Uri was no longer the ignorant teenager running errands for his family's business. Over the decade he spent out of the cavernous village he had grown into a man. So strange to think that he was twenty-eight when the last memories he had of the village were when he was still a teen.
Regardless of his age, however, there was one thing that had never changed about the stone-loving shinobi: His adoration of sweets and confections.
That was what brought him to the Grand Palais. Ever since he had been a little kid, able to scrape together coins off of the street, he would stop in at this bakery nestled onto a corner of businesses. Cream-filled cakes, mini-pies, flaky, buttery rolls that you would put honey on. Even in the middle of early-morning rush, he would push and shove past the adult's towering bodies and wedge his hand up to drop the change onto the counter. Even though his face would be hidden by all the bodies, the kind woman who ran the bakery would always manage to place some sort of sweet treat in his hand. Out of everything else in the village, this was one place he could never forget. As he grew up and things changed, it didn't. To a little kid growing up in darkness, the brightness and life that bakery brought to his life helped inspire him onward to greatness.
Lollipop from the gates thoroughly finished, he chewed nonchalantly on the wooden stick as he casually walked down the road. Somewhere inside was telling him he should have found the place already, and he almost resigned to being lost when he heard the chime of a doorbell. While many shops had them, this one had a unique ring. Turning, he smiled wide as he spotted the bakery. Since the Grand Palais was built like it was, much of the bakery's scents were taken away along with the smoke from the oven to the surface. Once he was in proximity, he caught the scent of breads and cakes. Pausing outside the polished stone surface of the storefront, he smiled wide, reading across the sign adorned just above the door. In gold letters on a navy blue background read Just in Chime Baked Goods.
As he reached forward to push inward, he stopped and thought better of it. He removed his traveling pack and cloak and let them sit against the wall outside. He didn't need to bring in so much dirt, dust, and sand into their establishment. It would be a terrible way to make a new first impression.
There were numerous shelves carved out of polished stone. Wood was a more rare commodity in Sunagakure since Wind Country didn't really support much greenery, so normal furniture couldn't be constructed from it; a surprise to Uri when he visited other countries and found wood in abundance. The golden crusts and glimmering frostings called out to him as he paced the store, taking everything in, basking in the aroma of freshly baked goods. There was never anything quite like homemade sweets from a place one remembered so fondly. No one was behind the front counter, but they knew he was there thanks to the bell. Leaning over it, he peered into the back to see if he could spot the kindly woman or her husband who had always taken such good care of him.
"Haaaaaaai? Obaaaaaaaasan? Are you in?"<i></i>
After enough years of coming back, he had developed quite the rapport with the female owner, up to the point that she had become almost like a second mother to him. Settling back onto his feet once again, he looked around and let out an 'Aha! as he spotted the smooth mineral vase decorated in blue scenes of farmers harvesting grain resting on a shelf behind the counter, in the far corner where it traveled into the rear of the store. He had made that as a going away present to the family before setting off out into the world.
Hopefully Obasan would arrive soon. His sweet tooth was begging to be sated.