With no word from his brothers, and after an
unsuccessful search for them at the library, Hanzo had returned to the apartment in order to gather some supplies and begin an exhaustive search of the city and surrounding area. There was just one simple problem. He did not have everything he would need, nor did he have the money to purchase the supplies necessary to sustain a prolonged excursion out and about. With a lack of missions for him to take on, and opportunities within the city being few and far between, Hanzo had a revelation. He turned to his planter sitting underneath a window and realized that he could finally put his family's vast experience to use. Not only could he acquire the funds necessary to find his brothers, but he could preserve his grandmother's teachings in the process. Now was the time to open up an herbal remedy and chakra revitalization stand.
Hanzo walked downstairs to talk with Slippery Shichiro, asking for his permission to allow a small kiosk to be established outside his bar. Shichiro gave Hanzo a sly grin and stated resolutely,
"I'm in...only if I get free healing when I hit the bottle a bit too hard." With that, Hanzo shook the barkeep's outstretched hand and gave a slight bow. It was settled.
A few hours had passed, and Hanzo had begun acquiring wood with which to fashion his shop stall aside the exterior of Binge Kitchen. As he began to cobble together his meager kiosk, his mind began to wander back to the painstaking efforts his grandmother took to drill the practices of herbalism and chakra revitalization into his mind, his bones, and his soul. It was simply part of who he was today, but all those years ago it was a struggle just to get him to care.
It all began with Hanzo shadowing his grandmother's routine in the early morning before his own studies and chores, followed by assisting her in her preparation of herbal remedies in the late afternoon. Every morning, as the sun began to crest ever so slightly above the peaks of the mountains, Hanzo would arrive at his grandparents' abode. Without fail, he would see his grandparents in the back yard performing meditative motions, fluid and seemingly never-ending in their composition. At the end of each set of movements, they would inhale deeply, bringing their hands upward to face level then exhaling slowly as they seemed to be pushing some invisible force downward with their palms toward their dantian. Hanzo later learned that this was meant to open up their chakra meridians and capture chakra in their core. It was a meditative practice which he was introduced to and now performed every morning before beginning his own day. Legend had it that these complex, flowing motions were actually once used for fighting yet now served a more peaceful purpose; to help people recover control of their chakra system and improve their overall physical and mental health.
His grandparents instructed him in the methods to perform these movements, and slowly they became like second nature to the very young boy. Like flowing water, his arms gracefully performed maneuver after maneuver demonstrating his growing prowess and understanding of his chakra system's connection with the primal forces of nature. Like a bird rising from its roost, he could lift his leg up like he was about to take flight. His clenched hand could imitate the claw of a mantis. His footwork had to be immaculate, and his grandparents always made him perform the set without footwear as to create a deeper connection with the earth. Hanzo's grandmother eventually explained to him the connection to nature which each of the movements maintained, and how physiologically they all helped to loosen his muscles and allow more efficient flow of chakra throughout his body. Being the village apothecary, it was now time for the elderly woman to teach him how to apply this concept to helping others.
It was all well and good if an individual could increase the efficiency of their chakra flow and their connection with nature all on their own, but sometimes damage was done that needing healing. This healing was not something the body could do on its own, though Hanzo's grandmother frequently told him of the almost magical way in which the human body can at most times heal itself. It was now time to teach him the art of proper deep tissue chakra massages. Showing Hanzo a diagram of the chakra system meridians, she explained that sometimes people experienced blockages in their meridians that inhibited their ability to manipulate chakra. Warriors returning from battle, victims of natural catastrophes, or even the elderly who may have taken a bad spill could all experience the same level of blockage along their meridians, and all these cases were worthy of Hanzo's attention just as they had been for his grandmother. This could potentially lead to paralysis or even death if the case was severe enough.
[spoilername="Chakra Meridians"]
[/spoilername]
Over the course of his young years, both in the morning and after his schooling, he would learn bit by bit the methods employed to loosen these stoppages in the meridians and allow one's chakra to flow free. Often he would use the lower edges of his palms to loosen a patient's muscles, decompress their spine (a far too common occurrence among the farmers and laborers), and warm their joints. At times the patients would complain how there would be pain during the procedure, and Hanzo would reassure them that such pain was temporary in comparison to the relief and energy they would gain an hour later. His grandmother would always give him a smile whenever he would reassure the patients. Soon enough, little Hanzo was practicing deep tissue chakra massaging along with his grandmother. This would continue for a couple years, and the knowledge he had gained over that course of time stayed with him to this day albeit he was a bit rusty.
All the while, his mother and grandmother would also give him training in their truest passion, herbalism. It all began by helping the two women in grinding up their herbal remedies with mortar and pestle, having no clue as to how each ingredient affected the body. At this point he could hardly tell one herb from another. After a couple years, however, he became much more accustomed to the creation of herbal medicines in the form of teas, powders, capsules, and pastes. His grandmother being the primary apothecary of the village had the unique distinction of providing her with an almost untenable amount of knowledge on local flora and exotic ingredients which could only be found outside the country. Every day, before seeing patients for deep tissue massage, his grandmother would quiz Hanzo on the differences between and effects of different herbs by illustrations alone. In the early evening he would then help his mother cultivate her herbal garden and learn how to grow the more easily found medicinal plants of the country. Childhood was tiring for the boy between the little schoolhouse, the grandparents' instruction of chakra meridians, herbalism training, and finally his father's training in the ways of the kikaichu. Every day was an action-packed adventure, but there was one day which would be completely different. His grandmother had arranged for him to take the day off to focus on only one task. He was to collect a given list of medicinal plants by name alone and prepare a medicinal tea all on his lonesome. His mother gave him the slightest push out the door, pack of lunch strapped to his side, as he went off into the nearby forest to scavenge for the required plants.
Hanzo smiled to himself as he began to nail the boards of his stall together. He had been such an untrained fool back then as he began to let nostalgia grip him once more.
Little Hanzo glanced at the list his grandmother had written and saw the he needed two herbs, one mushroom, and leaves from a certain tree. The tree was a gimme from grandma. The vast swaths of coniferous evergreens which composed the forest contained the first ingredient. Hanzo whipped out his butterfly knife and cut off a few strands of needles. Placing them in his pack, he went on his way to search for the herbs. The first herb on the list was verbena. Simple enough, the boy thought, all he had to do was look for the star-like base to a purple-white shaded flower. A quick snip of the bud, and he had what he needed. After fifteen minutes of searching, he had stumbled upon such a patch of the herb in its prickly glory. Hanzo quickly snagged a few of the buds and off he went to find the other herb, ginseng. He needed the root, red bulbous cluster of berries, and all. It took two hours to find this one, and after collecting the plant it was time for Hanzo to eat lunch.
After a nice break to eat his sandwich, he needed to find the mushroom. It was a chanterelle. After some time searching, Hanzo found a cluster of yellow mushrooms that had spiky contours. He took a few caps, threw them in his bag, and went on his way back home. The short walk back to his grandmother's house was one filled with pride. Hanzo had a bit of pep in his step from the confidence he had gained during his excursion. Upon his return, his grandmother took a look in his sack and asked if he was sure about his choices. He affirmed that he picked only the best medicinal plants, and he brewed the tea.
His grandmother nudged a cup of the tea over to him and asked him to try it out. If the recipe was correct, he would get a bit of energy from the drink. If it was not, he may get sick. Hanzo looked at the dark beverage and downed the entire thing. This was his folly. Twenty minutes later, he was laying down on a mat writhing in pain as the tea churned in his stomach. His grandmother reproached him playfully and let him know that the chanterelle he thought he picked was actually a mildly poisonous mushroom which caused gastrointestinal pain. She followed this up with a lesson which has stuck with him all these years. When a patient asks for help, their life is in your hands. If you give them an improper medicine, it could be the death of them. He never forgot that lesson. It was then that he truly grasped why his grandmother had been the apothecary of the village for so long. Her dedication and desire to help others had now been transposed onto his personality, and it became part of his identity.
After another fifteen minutes of construction, Hanzo's kiosk was complete. Now all he needed was customers.
