“In my opinion, Hoishi needs to keep her mouth shut, and focus on her own problems, instead of wondering when my Uchiha baby-daddy be coming back.”
A woman on a box television set continued to rant on about another female she was clearly a romantic rival with before a camera, sitting in a chair to herself like an interview. The program then cut away back to her and this said rival arguing in the former’s own house, before cutting to another interview with the rival who was in tears. For five full minutes she proclaimed her love for the male Uchiha who was out on dangerous missions for Konohagakure, never knowing if he would ever come back, and that other bitch, only cared about the money he was bringing in. The scene cut back to the two women now arguing loudly. A child in the background looked lost and confused as its mother and another woman had started a screaming match.
Across from the television set displaying bits of “real drama”, was a twenty-three year old man in his boxers and a muscle shirt sitting on a beat up looking couch. He was leaning forward, intently, watching the program with such fervor you’d think it was his religion. A beer can with massive condensation issues was clutched in his right hand, and a remote control in his left that had only buttons for channels and volume; his thumb rested precariously on top the “up” button for sound. His hair was shagged down over most of his face and stretched down just past his neckline. Every now and then, the man would start to try and take another sip of beer, but it would miss his mouth by inches as he remained glued to the drama being portrayed on the screen. Realizing that his buzz was gonna wear off if he couldn’t drink the alcohol, right as the show started to steer towards the mother talking up another male shinobi, Teng turned his eyes away for a few seconds to find the mouth on the can and take a long swig.
“TEKKI NO!” was all he heard. It was the name of the man who was supposed to be away, and his sudden appearance while the housewife was supposed to be home taking care of their child caused Tengoi to breath in, out of shocked reaction. Beer spewed everywhere as he started into a coughing fit. The can of cold brew flew from his hand and landed on the television set, causing golden lager to spill out and into the precious electronics beneath the wooden box that contained Teng’s favorite source of entertainment. Immediately the screen twisted, the words became garbled, and a small explosion popped in the back, causing the TV to lurch forward a few feet. The screen went black. In a moment of absolute horror, the Chuunin simply sat in his boxers for a moment. Then launched himself at the box.
“No! No, no, no, noooooo~! It was the season finale! Don’t die on me now!” he cried as his hand slapped the side of the television box in hopes that brute force would fix the technical problem. It worked sometimes. This, however, only forced the caustic liquids deeper into an electronic still plugged into the wall. There was another loud “pop”, and a spark of electricity that caught, first, his wall plug on fire and then the TV itself. Crying in both panic and legitimate sadness, Tengoi ran to his kitchen to grab the fire extinguisher and begin spraying white foam all across the television and wall. A moment after the ‘dust’ had cleared, and the poor shinobi was left in his underwear, partially soaked from the fire extinguisher, looking down on the ruin that was his television set and living room carpet; also the black streak that ran right up the wall.
“Well…guess I ain’t getting the deposit back on this one…", the shinobi muttered looking at the ruined living room of his side of the duplex. Closing his eyes he breathed in deep, holding his hands parallel with his heart, and exhaled to try and calm himself. All that came was an overwhelming sense of frustration. He was missing the last ten minutes of his show’s season finale, and that really bothered him more than most things could. Everything felt absolutely hopeless in that moment, until, he remembered that there would be a later showing. The image of Teng’s body flickered and vanished back into his bedroom from the speed of his exit.
The sound of draws slamming open and clothes being thrown around echoed through the silent duplex as Tengoi scrapped together every last bit of scratch he could get his hands on. Coins, paper, he even found a check that was a hundred-yen check for bank error in his favor. After about an hour of hunting through every last corner of his home, he was now on the dining room table counting out everything, still in his underwear.
“…1899…1989…2000! Two-thousand Yen! Ha-ha! Now, hopefully I can make it to the store before it closes…”, he muttered to himself before looking up at the clock to see he had less than an hour; the color drained a little from his face. Standing up, the Chuunin walked over to his couch, pulled off the shorts laying across the back, and shook them out before slipped them on, then did the same to a pull over that was hanging on his coat hanger. Feet slipped into shoes that were almost purely house slippers, and his door opened to the outside world. Tengoi was met with luke-warm air and a cold breeze, the smell of maple trees, and the chatter of the locals. He closed the door behind him, locked the doorknob and two deadbolts, then started a light jog down the street heading towards the Oak District.
Getting there was no problem. As large as Konoha was, being a shinobi made it easy to traverse around. Especially as there was an ordnance on how big houses could be in the Maple District. After jogging for about five minutes to warm up his muscles, Teng would leap to the roofs and dart his way across until landing right in Oak. Now, here, he didn’t bother with rooftop running; not after falling through and into a ramen shop. It was one thing to explain away burns as a shinobi to the medical staff, looking all cool and sexy doing it…but it was another when one hasn’t been on a mission in weeks and everyone knew it. Explaining that his burns were due to ramen was probably one of the more embarrassing things on his list of stuff to keep secret, second only to his hidden love for soap operas. After a couple of minutes of walking past a number of those same soup stores and their tantalizing smells, Teng came across one of the few electronic markets…and felt his heart drop into his stomach at the sight of the line. His eyes looked up to the glass window and saw a poster claiming they were having a television set sale! …with only about ten minutes of store time remaining and a line that clearly bespoke of longer waits. Teng brought a finger and thumb to his chin.
Ah, what to do…
A woman on a box television set continued to rant on about another female she was clearly a romantic rival with before a camera, sitting in a chair to herself like an interview. The program then cut away back to her and this said rival arguing in the former’s own house, before cutting to another interview with the rival who was in tears. For five full minutes she proclaimed her love for the male Uchiha who was out on dangerous missions for Konohagakure, never knowing if he would ever come back, and that other bitch, only cared about the money he was bringing in. The scene cut back to the two women now arguing loudly. A child in the background looked lost and confused as its mother and another woman had started a screaming match.
Across from the television set displaying bits of “real drama”, was a twenty-three year old man in his boxers and a muscle shirt sitting on a beat up looking couch. He was leaning forward, intently, watching the program with such fervor you’d think it was his religion. A beer can with massive condensation issues was clutched in his right hand, and a remote control in his left that had only buttons for channels and volume; his thumb rested precariously on top the “up” button for sound. His hair was shagged down over most of his face and stretched down just past his neckline. Every now and then, the man would start to try and take another sip of beer, but it would miss his mouth by inches as he remained glued to the drama being portrayed on the screen. Realizing that his buzz was gonna wear off if he couldn’t drink the alcohol, right as the show started to steer towards the mother talking up another male shinobi, Teng turned his eyes away for a few seconds to find the mouth on the can and take a long swig.
“TEKKI NO!” was all he heard. It was the name of the man who was supposed to be away, and his sudden appearance while the housewife was supposed to be home taking care of their child caused Tengoi to breath in, out of shocked reaction. Beer spewed everywhere as he started into a coughing fit. The can of cold brew flew from his hand and landed on the television set, causing golden lager to spill out and into the precious electronics beneath the wooden box that contained Teng’s favorite source of entertainment. Immediately the screen twisted, the words became garbled, and a small explosion popped in the back, causing the TV to lurch forward a few feet. The screen went black. In a moment of absolute horror, the Chuunin simply sat in his boxers for a moment. Then launched himself at the box.
“No! No, no, no, noooooo~! It was the season finale! Don’t die on me now!” he cried as his hand slapped the side of the television box in hopes that brute force would fix the technical problem. It worked sometimes. This, however, only forced the caustic liquids deeper into an electronic still plugged into the wall. There was another loud “pop”, and a spark of electricity that caught, first, his wall plug on fire and then the TV itself. Crying in both panic and legitimate sadness, Tengoi ran to his kitchen to grab the fire extinguisher and begin spraying white foam all across the television and wall. A moment after the ‘dust’ had cleared, and the poor shinobi was left in his underwear, partially soaked from the fire extinguisher, looking down on the ruin that was his television set and living room carpet; also the black streak that ran right up the wall.
“Well…guess I ain’t getting the deposit back on this one…", the shinobi muttered looking at the ruined living room of his side of the duplex. Closing his eyes he breathed in deep, holding his hands parallel with his heart, and exhaled to try and calm himself. All that came was an overwhelming sense of frustration. He was missing the last ten minutes of his show’s season finale, and that really bothered him more than most things could. Everything felt absolutely hopeless in that moment, until, he remembered that there would be a later showing. The image of Teng’s body flickered and vanished back into his bedroom from the speed of his exit.
The sound of draws slamming open and clothes being thrown around echoed through the silent duplex as Tengoi scrapped together every last bit of scratch he could get his hands on. Coins, paper, he even found a check that was a hundred-yen check for bank error in his favor. After about an hour of hunting through every last corner of his home, he was now on the dining room table counting out everything, still in his underwear.
“…1899…1989…2000! Two-thousand Yen! Ha-ha! Now, hopefully I can make it to the store before it closes…”, he muttered to himself before looking up at the clock to see he had less than an hour; the color drained a little from his face. Standing up, the Chuunin walked over to his couch, pulled off the shorts laying across the back, and shook them out before slipped them on, then did the same to a pull over that was hanging on his coat hanger. Feet slipped into shoes that were almost purely house slippers, and his door opened to the outside world. Tengoi was met with luke-warm air and a cold breeze, the smell of maple trees, and the chatter of the locals. He closed the door behind him, locked the doorknob and two deadbolts, then started a light jog down the street heading towards the Oak District.
Getting there was no problem. As large as Konoha was, being a shinobi made it easy to traverse around. Especially as there was an ordnance on how big houses could be in the Maple District. After jogging for about five minutes to warm up his muscles, Teng would leap to the roofs and dart his way across until landing right in Oak. Now, here, he didn’t bother with rooftop running; not after falling through and into a ramen shop. It was one thing to explain away burns as a shinobi to the medical staff, looking all cool and sexy doing it…but it was another when one hasn’t been on a mission in weeks and everyone knew it. Explaining that his burns were due to ramen was probably one of the more embarrassing things on his list of stuff to keep secret, second only to his hidden love for soap operas. After a couple of minutes of walking past a number of those same soup stores and their tantalizing smells, Teng came across one of the few electronic markets…and felt his heart drop into his stomach at the sight of the line. His eyes looked up to the glass window and saw a poster claiming they were having a television set sale! …with only about ten minutes of store time remaining and a line that clearly bespoke of longer waits. Teng brought a finger and thumb to his chin.
Ah, what to do…