The evening itself felt crisp, as if the air was heavy with unspent rain mixed with the subtle dryness of a typical Konoha evening. The wind played gently with the reeds that surrounded the outdoor hot springs, providing a soothing resonance to what would otherwise be a simple night.
The lovers that often found themselves in this part of town had drifted home, as had the myriad of attendees and onlookers, leaving a solitary figure alone, standing on top of the water within the hot springs.
Steam, visible due to the coldness of the night-time air, wound like snakes around the young man as he danced some strange kata, cutting the mist with his hands in what appeared to be a one-sided battle. His clothing was a simple white robe, heavy with moisture, that clung to his frame, seemingly dragging him down as he went through the motions. It sagged beneath his arms, giving the appearance of a drowning bird, flapping away in its death throes.
His hands seemed to be sculpting the mist, moving it this way and that, so it became even more snake-like, even alive, in the cold air as it tried to ascend. The casual observer would see that this figure seemed to be fixated on the movement of the mist, casually stopping to watch it wind upwards and out of sight. A more vigilant observer would notice a small wooden puppet, seemingly sat down on a nearby bench, as if to watch over this strange dancer.
The man span, the arms of his robes flaying outwards, flicking a small amount of water over the puppet, causing it to topple over. A wry smile appeared on porcelain features.
“Well I’m not the only one looking stupid now Mikki”.
The pair would then return, one to his studies, the other to his observation and criticism.
MFT - W/C 311
The lovers that often found themselves in this part of town had drifted home, as had the myriad of attendees and onlookers, leaving a solitary figure alone, standing on top of the water within the hot springs.
Steam, visible due to the coldness of the night-time air, wound like snakes around the young man as he danced some strange kata, cutting the mist with his hands in what appeared to be a one-sided battle. His clothing was a simple white robe, heavy with moisture, that clung to his frame, seemingly dragging him down as he went through the motions. It sagged beneath his arms, giving the appearance of a drowning bird, flapping away in its death throes.
His hands seemed to be sculpting the mist, moving it this way and that, so it became even more snake-like, even alive, in the cold air as it tried to ascend. The casual observer would see that this figure seemed to be fixated on the movement of the mist, casually stopping to watch it wind upwards and out of sight. A more vigilant observer would notice a small wooden puppet, seemingly sat down on a nearby bench, as if to watch over this strange dancer.
The man span, the arms of his robes flaying outwards, flicking a small amount of water over the puppet, causing it to topple over. A wry smile appeared on porcelain features.
“Well I’m not the only one looking stupid now Mikki”.
The pair would then return, one to his studies, the other to his observation and criticism.
MFT - W/C 311