Open Seven of Pentacles

[Jintou]

Upright Seven of Pentacles

“All things come to those who wait.”
-- Violet Fane


With so much excitement happening in the recent months, it was practically a relief to be given such a… boring assignment. I mean, from the perspective of the end of time nothing seems that boring to me— but through the lens of childish eyes, a day of relaxation is akin to watching paint dry. One’s luxury is another’s punishment, kind of like the bit about treasures and trash, something or other.

Perhaps it was due to his politeness and mild manners that Jintou was chosen to accompany Headmaster Sunaku on a mission to the fine Estates of Sora. Of all the cadets within the academy, Jintou carried the least of that prepubescent funk that seemed to make the genin so unbearable to their superiors. Or maybe, it was the fact that young Jintou had a particular skill that was not easily learned within the confines of Primus’ Bulwark. The boy had his Grandmother, Ko’ona, to thank for his green thumb, which was less a product of a hobby and more an essential for survival in the desert. Jintou was the only academy student who lived alone for any reason besides the aforementioned prepubescent funk— instead, he kept a dorm room full of plant life. Indeed, from the top bunk bed to almost every dresser top, down to the floor; it was a space rife with soil and succulents.

Silently, Jintou was testing his knowledge as he was led through an illustrious garden somewhere belonging to some private owner too busy to show their face. Along with Harupia, Jintou was led towards a very large flower by a concerned gardener. The boy wandered slightly to stoop over the exotic specimens as he passed them, and he told their names, such as swallowtail, living stone, and corkscrew albuca. The gardener was a comely young woman in a standard getup, with a wide-brimmed straw hat to spare her from the sun’s wrath, and earth-toned overalls made filthy by her work. With a sweet southern drawl common to the rural Terrans, the gardener reiterated the cause which caused her employer to summon aid from the Hidden Sand: the endangerment of a prized specimen known as a Daisun Poplar.

Just a bit of education about the properties of the Daisun Poplar and you’ll understand why it is considered highly sought after, and why the owner would summon shinobi to guard their specimen on this particular day. You see, the Daisun Poplar has an uncanny ability to survive virtually anywhere, and hypothetically, create breathable atmospheres in territories virtually uninhabitable by normal means. Scientific mumbo-jumbo aside, just know that the seeds of this tree come at a high price, and fall in a single day, once per year, in an unpredictable cycle that provides about a week of warning before the big fall. The strange saplings of the tree resemble eggs and are filled with a gooey substance that provides nutrients to the fertilized sapling within. When the seeds drop they must be caught or else they’ll shatter on the ground, enriching the soil and wasting the seed. Catching the seed drops is a process that can take an entire day, well into the night, and requires dexterous hands and even quicker wit. Because of the eggs’ fragility, saplings cannot be plucked from the tree before they are ready to fall, or else the shells would break.

Arriving below the massive tree, Jintou counted only seven saplings eggs hanging from its limbs. It seemed like easy work for the likes of two shinobi, what with one of them being incredibly skilled and the other knowing a thing or two about plant life. As for the gardener, she had spent the day preparing for the same event but to no avail and was essentially turning over her duties to the hired shinobi for the night, or until the saplings finished falling, whichever came first.

Once it was just the pupil and master alone in the garden, Jintou reread the missive he was given that explained their mission. A drop of cold sweat raced down his temple as his attention switched from the paper to the tree and back. In a ghastly tone, he said “each of those eggs are worth more than a year of our pay… and if we break them, it’s coming out of village coffers.” Jintou tried to imagine the fury of Lord Raizo if he and Harupia managed to fumble all seven eggs… actually, he doubted that the Kazekage would care, but someone keeping a budget would be absolutely pissed.

• Jintou has entered the thread.
• Requesting @Sunaku Harupia
• wc777

 

[Sunaku Harupia]

Harupia walked through the gardens with a pleasant smile, listening to the lady leading them with genuine interest. While he couldn't say he knew very much about flowers himself, he always enjoyed finding out something new. Also seeing Jintou be immersed in his element, stopping by the plants, calling them by their names with ease. An unusual combination, a Jouinin and academy teacher on the same task with a student, outside of a specific training scenario.

Yet it seemed only fair for Harupia to ask Jintou to accompany him, given his close knowledge of plant life. As for why he himself decided to take the assignment, he was intrigued and respect the importance of the plant. Given how much time he spent in his life in the desert, traveling through it, training and fighting within it, he knew quite intimately the dangers and woes it presented. If this plant could truly help in making the life of people trying to settle within the harsh land easier, it was worth his attention.

And, just as the young student rightfully claimed, there was quite a high price at stake. Chuckling a bit he would say „To think a simple sapling can be worth as much if not more than all my years of service. Goes to show how valuable even the smallest things can be” though there was no real malice in his voice, merely amusement. He was lucky enough to lead a comfortable life even as he risked his life and health on numerous occasions. Though he honestly would not want to cover the price of any mistakes.

„But it no use to worry about the risks of potential failure, rather we should focus to ensure it won't come to that” he added, smiling towards Jintou before quickly turning back to the tree, keeping his eyes on the seven remaining saplings „At least this time our meeting will most likely go through a lot more calmly… I hope you have been well since than” speaking on while maintaining sight on the tree. Perhaps a bit rude but as far as he understood, the saplings could make their move at any moment „I don't suppose you would know of any signs the tree might give away before it decides to shed one of its fruits, would you?”

 

[Jintou]

Perhaps it was in the boy’s best interest to take Master Sunaku’s words to heart; to heed the wisdom of a well-lived man and not worry about the chance of failure. Jintou fixed his eyes on the egg-like seeds with determination. That familiar sense of dread lingered— anxiety pressing down on his diaphragm enough to make each breath a chore.

The seedling pods held an incredible value measured in potential over pragmatism… Inevitable eggs that would one day give an entire populace a chance at prosperity; of course, each one was worth a fortune. And while the teachings of Ko’ona left Jintou more prepared for the task than your typical shinobi, the Daisun Poplar was a man-made species, far from the desert flora handled by Jintou’s grand matron.

“Signs, huh? “Elder Ko’ona says that there is a lot to be learned from nature, especially wise old trees,” said Jintou, taking an old, withered accent to imitate his grandmother sweetly. He slowed to a meandering wander beneath the tree, and caressed the trunk’s hearty bark as he moved around it. “Plants have a lot to say,” he said with a laugh, “in fact, they like to gossip. “Their voices are soft, hard to hear,” he cupped one hand over his cheek to hide his mouth from an opposing bed of peonies as if he were sharing a secret, “they whisper, so quietly that even a dog won’t perk their ears at a discussion in the garden. If we sit here in total silence we might be able to hear the light crack when a seedling breaks free, but we won’t know until it happens.”

As if in response to those very words, there was a slight twitch of a branch, and the first of the seven seeds began a silent descent from above. There was no snapping sound, no trigger to be found, only the sudden act of nature. Down the egg came, falling in slow motion like the first atom bomb on target for Hiroshima. Jintou was facing Harupia with one hand up, pointed skyward as he missed the action hiding past his field of view. It was up to the Jounin to intervene or else the egg would become a sappy mess on the stepping stones below.

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[Sunaku Harupia]

It was hard to completely remove one's anxiety. Even if you were absolutely sure of everything, you prepared for every possible outcome, prepared contingencies for contingencies, there was always the chance of failure. The key was not letting the feeling consume you. Something he had, admittedly, struggled with quite often himself.

With time he learned to hope for the best but prepare for the worst. Even now he could imagine some Jounin scoffing at this assignment, why care for some sort of the plant when there was an unknown invading force out there. But there were more threats that could be resolved than by combat. The migration of people from the desert would probably continue, and they would need room. These seeds could breathe in so much life into the desert...if it all worked as they explained.

He listened and watched the student as he shared the teachings of his grandmother, letting out a bit of a chuckle at his wither old mentor voice. He nodded after he spoke while saying "Mmm, I see... Elder Ko'noa sounds like a wise woman indeed...reminds me a bit of my training with my father..." before letting Jintou continue.

While he was paying attention to his companion he never lost focus on the target. He didn't hear the rustling of the branch but he did see the fall of the target. As Jintou raised his hand he moved with speed and precision towards the falling seed. He needed to adjust his height a bit, dropping to his knees mid dash and skidding across the ground a bit. But in the end, he did turn towards his companion, sitting under the tree and holding up the delicate sapling, unbroken "Well, one down...now we gotta put it down before one of its brothers joins...One more!" he called out, as he looks up the tree and saw one of the seeds trembling, about to fall. With his hands currently occupied, this one would be on Jintou's hands...literally.

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[Jintou]

The first seedling was easily taken into Harupia’s able hands. But as the elder shinobi’s keen senses made him aware of the coming second fall, he was compromised and called Jintou into action. There was no time for doubt and the freezing grip of anxiety as Jintou sprang into motion. The snap of the limb sent the second seedling spiraling towards the earth like a bomb in flight. It was only then, in the intensity of his sprint, that the flap of an empty sleeve flew high behind Jintou. With only one hand left to his body, he stretched himself long in a dive with his palm down, reaching. The hard cobblestone met him with the expected harshness, but the seedling fumbled against his fingers into another hop skyward. Like a fish drowning on dry land, Jintou flopped on his side to move into position as the sapling came back down. There was a pop-like suction as the seed landed in his mouth, caught, filling it in a desperate catch.

“Aye oughh ieh” he called out with incoherent speech flowing as he celebrated.
He sat up with the help of his single hand against the ground and plucked the seed from his mouth so he could hold it up. “That was close, but makes two of seven!”

The shape of the daisun poplar’s sapling was indeed egg-like, albeit larger and with a harder shell comprised with swirls like a pot of melting chocolate, milk, and dark of nearly the purest cacao. An autumn leaf had come along with Jintou’s sapling and had a unique, translucent property from its base all the way to the tip. Running through the center of the leaf were shades of pink, the small lines of its veins and venules. As the sun climbed down over the garden, it set the back of the Daisun Poplar into aglow, as if the tree would set ablaze.

There was a woven basket lined with burlap set on a crate not far from their tree, in front of a misty mushroom case that was encased in glass. Jintou set down his sapling and idled, distracted and staring.

Perhaps I should not minimize or overlook that peculiar detail— that being the stump where his right arm should have been. Well, this is not a story with a linear ebb and flow, as the diamond eyes of House Oba’s Nye Gyamme foresee our futures as mere flickers of potential, as numerous as the chances on a die’s fall. The event has yet to unfurl elsewhere, and yet, its results are already felt, forever affecting Jintou and those who’ve cared for him. Headmaster Sunaku was likely already briefed on what had occurred with Jintou during that mission on the Kazekage’s team— the file was thick with details from every mouthy student and genin who’d gone along that day. As for Jintou, the jury was still out on whether a disabled student could still make it as a shinobi, and perhaps that judgment fell upon Harupia Sunaku to a decisive degree.

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[Sunaku Harupia]

Time was a funny thing. You could so often feel it slipping by your fingers, passing too fast...and sometimes it almost felt like to came to a crawl. Just as he now saw the young man before him dive for the prize, a one-handed dash where he ended up catching the prize but letting the seed slip out into the air… a inhale on the side of the Sunaku as it flew down...only to be realized as it was finally caught. In a slightly...comical manner, with the Shinobi in training mumbling a bit before managing to catch it properly in his hand. But the final effect was well worth it.

Once they were sure both seeds were secure, he stood up, taking a moment to appreciate what he was holding in his hands. It honestly felt weird to hold such a large seed. The shell didn't feel completely brittle but he could feel how delicate it was. He took extra care setting it down in the basket „Well...we started out good if I do say so myself” nodding with a soft smile before turning towards the student.

Jintou stood there, looking at the tree with a more distracted stare. And as they stood he had a moment to take in the elephant in the room. He had in fact been informed of the entire situation and its effects on the students involved. Scars, wounds, fears...something every Shinobi had to face. Even if they were still in training, the risks were there, with the young man being an obvious testament. „You did well there, catching the seed...not only fast reflexes but also quick thinking when things didn't go as planned,” he said with a soft smile, looking at his left arm for a second, memories flooding his mind for a second before saying „I can see your recovery is going well physically...but I can imagine that's not the only pain you might be going through right now”. It was never easy talking about something like this...but he could only hope he could help in some way.

 

[Jintou]

Jintou’s expression turned dour at the mention of the word pain. He knew they couldn’t go the day without the blight of his wound surfacing. Every moment served as a reminder of that day and the dire price one might pay to be a shinobi. Not all of us can have fruitful careers only subject to superficial wounds and crashes we miraculously walk away from. Despite being a child Jintou was never so naive; never had he bought into the proud shinobi dreams his classmates grew to hold so dearly. Never had he idolized his service, or puffed out his chest at the risk of failure. So now, with his right side reduced and the cobalt blue jacket sleeve pinned up to hide what remained, the missing pounds of flesh left behind their weight in contemplation.

“It’s really not that bad,” he said, raising a lie like a shield against the sympathy that threatened to wear down his resilient demeanor. “The therapy is working, at least I think so… and one of the doctors devised a jutsu to block a lot of the pain.” A weary expression accompanied those words and he reached for the stump of an arm with his other hand, couping the sleeve. “To be a shinobi means to be one who endures.”

In the days before their assignment into Soon’s Haven had begun, Jintou began to speculate the reasoning for it and had grown suspicious of their pairing after all. A more spacially perception student like Moriko would have been able to spot even the slightest twitch of a seed preparing to fall. The bird boy, Yuno Egawa, had the ability to manifest jutsu that could catch the seeds with ease. Even Ringo would have had exceptional mobility and the steady hands to save every precious daisun poplar seed. Of course, Jintou would have been eager to work alongside a mentor like Harupia under normal circumstances, but was this some show of pity for the broken boy before an end to his time in the academy?

“Master Sunaku… I’m sorry but, respectfully, may I ask something out of order?” Boldly, Jintou pressed towards the matter that had been eating at him since they embarked out of Primus’ Bulwark together. “My counselor said that they might be sending me home to my tribe for a while, for my recovery… "Is that code for something? "Am I not going to be allowed to graduate from the academy? "What's happening to me? "You have to know what's going on, you have to tell them to let me stay. "Please? "This isn't fair!”

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