The dour gray haired woman had not lived up to his imagination in regards to the experience of his first mission. In his mind a village bureaucrat would have sought him out personally, desperate for his aid and his aid alone on a dire emergency. His needs for the task paid for along with a group of other capable shinobi flanking him into the abyss. A tall dream to be sure, and although he didn't truly expect the exaggerated additives, he did at least presume some sort of individual formality or at least for a moment to seem important. The mission office was more like an assembly line, printing out missions and handing them out on a first come first serve basis. The young Naganori felt no more important than an insignificant cog in a large machine, and for all intensive purposes, such was the case. He had been a student for less than a week with no experience or any merit of his own curation. He'd have to start out like everyone else and prove his worth, after all, that was what he decided to become a ninja for anyway.
With his immature pipe dream eroded for at least the immediate future, he took it with a grain of salt and realized with contrasting excitement that this was the actual beginning of that teleos thing his mother always talked about, proving himself to his village started now. Rolling back the green and red trim mission dossier he found the title for his mission: Shaking A Tree. It was an odd rather journalistic headline, but as he read further the title made sense, sort of.
"It says here I have to meet a Mr. Junzo at the park behind the central market place. I suppose that is where this stubborn tree is as well." He uttered in thought as he raised a concentrated yellow brow before rolling the mission scroll back to a close.
Ambient blue was the open air vibe as not a cloud cared to pass over the immediate sky as its serene clarity jawed at the butterflies in his stomach. The task itself wasn't very exciting but he wanted to do well on his first mission regardless. Weaving in and out of sparsely spaced denizens his walk felt more like a meandering waltz as a straight line of travel was nearly impossible to come by. After several minutes he found himself nearing the central market, and just beyond that he could make out the foliage of the trees that stuck out from behind the structure which would begin to encompass the large rear park. Komorebi danced about his face as he walked the dirt path beneath the trees that eventually led him to a cul-de-sac like clearing where ironically the single most smallest tree stood in total isolation.
WC: 471
With his immature pipe dream eroded for at least the immediate future, he took it with a grain of salt and realized with contrasting excitement that this was the actual beginning of that teleos thing his mother always talked about, proving himself to his village started now. Rolling back the green and red trim mission dossier he found the title for his mission: Shaking A Tree. It was an odd rather journalistic headline, but as he read further the title made sense, sort of.
"It says here I have to meet a Mr. Junzo at the park behind the central market place. I suppose that is where this stubborn tree is as well." He uttered in thought as he raised a concentrated yellow brow before rolling the mission scroll back to a close.
Ambient blue was the open air vibe as not a cloud cared to pass over the immediate sky as its serene clarity jawed at the butterflies in his stomach. The task itself wasn't very exciting but he wanted to do well on his first mission regardless. Weaving in and out of sparsely spaced denizens his walk felt more like a meandering waltz as a straight line of travel was nearly impossible to come by. After several minutes he found himself nearing the central market, and just beyond that he could make out the foliage of the trees that stuck out from behind the structure which would begin to encompass the large rear park. Komorebi danced about his face as he walked the dirt path beneath the trees that eventually led him to a cul-de-sac like clearing where ironically the single most smallest tree stood in total isolation.
WC: 471