Name: Tsurara Moriko
Age: 12
Physical Description:
Short and slim with long, very pale blue hair and indigo eyes, Moriko has a presence much louder than her appearance. In her family she is already regarded as particularly pretty, with several of her clan proclaiming her likely to become a great beauty in time. At the same time, there is much lamenting at how she puts very little effort into her appearance, often losing or discarding hair ribbons due to a preference to keep her hair down and not bothering with any cleaning beyond proper hygeine.
Despite the fact her family is certainly well-off enough to keep her in an up-to-date wardrobe, Moriko will tend to wear out clothes until they have enough holes in them that her mother makes her discard them. She doesn't bother stitching or patching them, either, despite many efforts of both her mother and other clan women to try and teach her.
She does also maintain a small hidden cache of her favourite ties and ribbons--albeit for wearing around her wrists or neck rather than in her hair. Usually when out in public she can be seen wearing at least one or two of these. Frequently these will be in colours that clash with her hair and what she's wearing, purchased herself with pocket change. She has little care for how colours go together; she simply picks based on colours she likes and gives very little care otherwise to how she appears.
Mental Description:
If described by her family, three words would come up repeatedly: 'clever,' 'lazy,' and 'unlucky.' 'Rude' might also feature, although truthfully Moriko is only rude to her clan's elders and otherwise only snips at people when she gets upset. Nonetheless, she owns the rest of it; Moriko will seek out the easiest solution to any problem she's confronted with and never put in full effort if it can be at all avoided. The results of this tend to vary based on how much she cares about the given task. If it's something she doesn't have much interest in such as chores the result will often be slapdash at best.
Perhaps another word that should be added to the list, albeit not a trait of hers her family notices, is 'stubborn.' When Moriko finds something she does want, she will dig in her heels until she gets it--by any means necessary. The reason this isn't often noticed is that she will often abandon a frontal approach in order to work at it from another angle that appears more promising, and will prefer to use conniving tactics to outright effort. Rarely does she ever outright drop anything she cares about, even if her mother and the rest of her family are often unaware of this.
Moriko also possesses a currently-hidden violent streak. Currently she checks it, not being able to offer much in the way of what she calls 'adequate' violence--though she has once or twice slipped and done things like giving her cousin a broken nose when he made fun of another, younger cousin of theirs and continuing to hit him until she was pulled off of him. This is exacerbated by the way that she thinks: if an action is worth taking, it's to be taken as far as you're capable of taking it. While Moriko will readily espouse and see shades of gray, her own actions are very much all or nothing. In defense of those she cares about it's almost always 'all,' and in defense of herself (verbally or otherwise) it's usually all but 'nothing.'
Shuttering this violent streak while she doesn't have the means to act on it as much as she would yet find acceptable (even though it's beyond what her family would prefer already) is in part what led to her engaging heavily in her studies, often in an attempt to find something that she would have to exhibit effort in to exceed at--as the physical realm had so far proved unsatisfying in that regard. Disappointing her, this has yet to manifest and everything from clan history to numbers to analyzing poetry comes to her in a snap.
The frustration mounts in her and only contributes to her temper. Moriko is practically chomping at the bit to embark on her path as a ninja, as it might be the only thing that could reasonably challenge her. This is despite the last trait that rings true--Moriko is a trouble magnet both due to her native curiosity and pride in her own skills and an added factor of no fault of her own. This results in things blowing up in her face on a nigh-constant basis, though somehow she never receives the brunt of any harm or punishment.
The final thing that makes her eager to start her training is the desire to not be seen as only some pretty thing to be married off to a distant cousin for her bloodline. She has been studying strategy and tactics as a head start and wants to put it to the test in practical terms, deliberately also using it as a way to maneuver away from her family's attempts to pretty her up and make her care about more 'acceptable' pastimes. While her treatment of her appearance and clothes might be still in part to a lack of care and childish whimsy, there may also be a healthy dose of spite at this point.
There is one weakness that often Moriko refuses to acknowledge within herself as one--her complete lack of understanding of or care for her own emotions. It makes her seem more abrasive than she intends sometimes, as she lacks the ability to regulate them--and contributes to her snapping when she does, not being able (or, truthfully, inclined) to catch any outbursts in time.
But it's not like emotions are important or that she wants to feel them directly. Her general thought on the subject, when she bothers at all, is 'who would?'
History:
The Tsurara family is, like many of the families in Wind Country, an old one. Of some of the few of their bloodline in what should be an intemperate to inhospitable climate to them, they regard themselves as somewhat above and tougher than many of their distant Yuki cousins from elsewhere. This is despite the fact that their elders have always complained loudly of the heat, and prior to the last century oftentimes a Tsurara clan elder would 'retire' to more a favourable climate for their cool blood. It was Moriko's hreat-grandfather who started the tradition of remaining in Wind Country and simply dealing with the heat--after his example, most of the others were shamed into likewise living up to their talk.
The clan spend a good long while living in Soon's Haven, but as public opinion of shinobi in general started to dip and occasionally manifest in outright hostility, they made hasty arrangements and uprooted to Sunagakure itself in short order, fearing for the younger and more vulnerable members of the clan as they were quite open about their bloodline and affiliations. Much of the active clan are ninja, some of them electing to live in Sunagakure while the Diamond Maelstrom still existed and welcoming their kin as well as assisting in arrangements upon their move now that the storm was no longer an issue.
Moriko was born several years after this move when the clan was thoroughly settled in behind their new wall, adapting as best they could to the drier conditions. Being in direct line of descent for the main branch, much was made of her at first--and more after her father took her older twin brother and absconded with him to parts unknown, not wishing either himself or his son to have that burden. As he and her mother Yuri were unmarried, this did not disturb Yuri overmuch--particularly as she was still left with one child to raise into an adequate heir.
Calling Yuri's parenting 'raising' might have been overly generous, however, as she generally preferred to do her own work and did little other than the basic minimum and occasionally remonstrating Moriko for her lack of manners. Some of the blame for Moriko being a 'ragamuffin' falls on her as far as her relations are concerned, but as she is set to be the head of the clan once her aging parents pass, there is little of consequence they can do or say to her. This often extends to Moriko as well and is one reason she gets away with so much. (Not that any of them tried particularly hard; many of them had their own children to be concerned with, and little thought was ever spared for the emotional needs of a child who received little to no support or affection of that nature from her only parent.)
This meant that there was almost no means to prevent Moriko from doing what she felt like. As the Tsurara clan did not hold with servants of any kind, she became fairly self-sufficient as soon as her mother thought her capable of it physically and tends to prepare her own meals and keep her own space tidy. (Usually.) Any household chores would often fall to her as her mother was frequently out on either missions or clan business, meaning that often they simply wouldn't be done until she was bored. Fortunately she didn't often make much mess to clean up in the first place.
The one rule Moriko ever had to abide by was the one that bothered her the most--a clan member must show some talent of their icy bloodline before they will receive permission to enrol in the Academy. She would just as soon have started when she was the minimum age possible to be accepted. She also knew that forcing such things never did any good and that her bloodline power would come to her in time, but nevertheless became impatient waiting, and plotting, and planning.
Bloodline Application - Fuyushio Yuki:
Word Count: 3317
Age: 12
Physical Description:
Short and slim with long, very pale blue hair and indigo eyes, Moriko has a presence much louder than her appearance. In her family she is already regarded as particularly pretty, with several of her clan proclaiming her likely to become a great beauty in time. At the same time, there is much lamenting at how she puts very little effort into her appearance, often losing or discarding hair ribbons due to a preference to keep her hair down and not bothering with any cleaning beyond proper hygeine.
Despite the fact her family is certainly well-off enough to keep her in an up-to-date wardrobe, Moriko will tend to wear out clothes until they have enough holes in them that her mother makes her discard them. She doesn't bother stitching or patching them, either, despite many efforts of both her mother and other clan women to try and teach her.
She does also maintain a small hidden cache of her favourite ties and ribbons--albeit for wearing around her wrists or neck rather than in her hair. Usually when out in public she can be seen wearing at least one or two of these. Frequently these will be in colours that clash with her hair and what she's wearing, purchased herself with pocket change. She has little care for how colours go together; she simply picks based on colours she likes and gives very little care otherwise to how she appears.
Mental Description:
If described by her family, three words would come up repeatedly: 'clever,' 'lazy,' and 'unlucky.' 'Rude' might also feature, although truthfully Moriko is only rude to her clan's elders and otherwise only snips at people when she gets upset. Nonetheless, she owns the rest of it; Moriko will seek out the easiest solution to any problem she's confronted with and never put in full effort if it can be at all avoided. The results of this tend to vary based on how much she cares about the given task. If it's something she doesn't have much interest in such as chores the result will often be slapdash at best.
Perhaps another word that should be added to the list, albeit not a trait of hers her family notices, is 'stubborn.' When Moriko finds something she does want, she will dig in her heels until she gets it--by any means necessary. The reason this isn't often noticed is that she will often abandon a frontal approach in order to work at it from another angle that appears more promising, and will prefer to use conniving tactics to outright effort. Rarely does she ever outright drop anything she cares about, even if her mother and the rest of her family are often unaware of this.
Moriko also possesses a currently-hidden violent streak. Currently she checks it, not being able to offer much in the way of what she calls 'adequate' violence--though she has once or twice slipped and done things like giving her cousin a broken nose when he made fun of another, younger cousin of theirs and continuing to hit him until she was pulled off of him. This is exacerbated by the way that she thinks: if an action is worth taking, it's to be taken as far as you're capable of taking it. While Moriko will readily espouse and see shades of gray, her own actions are very much all or nothing. In defense of those she cares about it's almost always 'all,' and in defense of herself (verbally or otherwise) it's usually all but 'nothing.'
Shuttering this violent streak while she doesn't have the means to act on it as much as she would yet find acceptable (even though it's beyond what her family would prefer already) is in part what led to her engaging heavily in her studies, often in an attempt to find something that she would have to exhibit effort in to exceed at--as the physical realm had so far proved unsatisfying in that regard. Disappointing her, this has yet to manifest and everything from clan history to numbers to analyzing poetry comes to her in a snap.
The frustration mounts in her and only contributes to her temper. Moriko is practically chomping at the bit to embark on her path as a ninja, as it might be the only thing that could reasonably challenge her. This is despite the last trait that rings true--Moriko is a trouble magnet both due to her native curiosity and pride in her own skills and an added factor of no fault of her own. This results in things blowing up in her face on a nigh-constant basis, though somehow she never receives the brunt of any harm or punishment.
The final thing that makes her eager to start her training is the desire to not be seen as only some pretty thing to be married off to a distant cousin for her bloodline. She has been studying strategy and tactics as a head start and wants to put it to the test in practical terms, deliberately also using it as a way to maneuver away from her family's attempts to pretty her up and make her care about more 'acceptable' pastimes. While her treatment of her appearance and clothes might be still in part to a lack of care and childish whimsy, there may also be a healthy dose of spite at this point.
There is one weakness that often Moriko refuses to acknowledge within herself as one--her complete lack of understanding of or care for her own emotions. It makes her seem more abrasive than she intends sometimes, as she lacks the ability to regulate them--and contributes to her snapping when she does, not being able (or, truthfully, inclined) to catch any outbursts in time.
But it's not like emotions are important or that she wants to feel them directly. Her general thought on the subject, when she bothers at all, is 'who would?'
History:
The Tsurara family is, like many of the families in Wind Country, an old one. Of some of the few of their bloodline in what should be an intemperate to inhospitable climate to them, they regard themselves as somewhat above and tougher than many of their distant Yuki cousins from elsewhere. This is despite the fact that their elders have always complained loudly of the heat, and prior to the last century oftentimes a Tsurara clan elder would 'retire' to more a favourable climate for their cool blood. It was Moriko's hreat-grandfather who started the tradition of remaining in Wind Country and simply dealing with the heat--after his example, most of the others were shamed into likewise living up to their talk.
The clan spend a good long while living in Soon's Haven, but as public opinion of shinobi in general started to dip and occasionally manifest in outright hostility, they made hasty arrangements and uprooted to Sunagakure itself in short order, fearing for the younger and more vulnerable members of the clan as they were quite open about their bloodline and affiliations. Much of the active clan are ninja, some of them electing to live in Sunagakure while the Diamond Maelstrom still existed and welcoming their kin as well as assisting in arrangements upon their move now that the storm was no longer an issue.
Moriko was born several years after this move when the clan was thoroughly settled in behind their new wall, adapting as best they could to the drier conditions. Being in direct line of descent for the main branch, much was made of her at first--and more after her father took her older twin brother and absconded with him to parts unknown, not wishing either himself or his son to have that burden. As he and her mother Yuri were unmarried, this did not disturb Yuri overmuch--particularly as she was still left with one child to raise into an adequate heir.
Calling Yuri's parenting 'raising' might have been overly generous, however, as she generally preferred to do her own work and did little other than the basic minimum and occasionally remonstrating Moriko for her lack of manners. Some of the blame for Moriko being a 'ragamuffin' falls on her as far as her relations are concerned, but as she is set to be the head of the clan once her aging parents pass, there is little of consequence they can do or say to her. This often extends to Moriko as well and is one reason she gets away with so much. (Not that any of them tried particularly hard; many of them had their own children to be concerned with, and little thought was ever spared for the emotional needs of a child who received little to no support or affection of that nature from her only parent.)
This meant that there was almost no means to prevent Moriko from doing what she felt like. As the Tsurara clan did not hold with servants of any kind, she became fairly self-sufficient as soon as her mother thought her capable of it physically and tends to prepare her own meals and keep her own space tidy. (Usually.) Any household chores would often fall to her as her mother was frequently out on either missions or clan business, meaning that often they simply wouldn't be done until she was bored. Fortunately she didn't often make much mess to clean up in the first place.
The one rule Moriko ever had to abide by was the one that bothered her the most--a clan member must show some talent of their icy bloodline before they will receive permission to enrol in the Academy. She would just as soon have started when she was the minimum age possible to be accepted. She also knew that forcing such things never did any good and that her bloodline power would come to her in time, but nevertheless became impatient waiting, and plotting, and planning.
Bloodline Application - Fuyushio Yuki:
The day was hot and arid, much like every other day.
Moriko sat perched on a rooftop, kicking her legs idly as she watched the market a block over. (For some reason people didn't like children perched over the marketplace itself, so this had to be close enough.) Her youngest cousins were there with their parents, picking out new pet dune rabbits. In such a crowd, four heads of light blue hair like her own were still relatively easy to pick out. They were at one of the pet merchants' stalls, the children shuffling along the cages curiously and presumably checking out each rabbit for one they liked.
No one had asked her to watch from a distance, and her aunt and uncle (something-cousins something-removed technically) were both capable ninja, but still she felt some obligation to. Aside being bored, that was, considering as this wasn't very interesting.
Moriko's mother Yuri had never taken her to get a pet. Not that she wanted a pet, but still, it would maybe have been nice to be asked. And after all, there was nothing wrong with rabbits, though she wasn't sure why it was such a 'tradition' to go and pick one out for so many of her cousins. Calling it a real tradition seemed very generous despite how the adults referred to it as the practice had only started a year or two before Moriko had been born, when they had moved the clan root and branch to Sunagakure from their old home.
Perhaps that was another reason Yuri hadn't bothered.
One of the small blue heads stopped and appeared to be gesturing excitedly to one of the rabbits. This one was, if she squinted, a cream colour. Good to pay attention too; little kids got distressed when pets got lost. It didn't take long for the other one to start bouncing in front of a darker brown rabbit, and soon her aunt and uncle were exchanging coin with the merchant, assuring the woman they had food for rabbits (she assumed), and bundling off out of the market with the rabbits in the arms of their new owners.
Moriko stood carefully and stretched her arms overhead before turning to clamber down the jutting bricks that had been her way up. The clan elders disapproved of her climbing things prior to any ninja training much like they disapproved of her sitting on the edge of a roof while wearing a skirt, but she didn't have to pay attention to their disapproval and so didn't.
There was a practical element to one and not the other, but she had yet to slip and was always particularly careful on the way down even when the stones were very rarely wet.
Reaching the ground, she brushed herself off, having somehow acculumated the sand she was shedding despite the lack of touchdown on the ground since she last brushed it away. Moriko made a face; it was uncomfortable under her fingers but she preferred this to carrying it home and later having to (ugh) sweep.
It was nowhere near any meal time and she didn't feel like visiting any of her frequent haunts, so she picked her way through safer but still less-traversed passages to the market herself, absently adjusting the yellow ribbon tied around her wrist. Technically she had some pocket change beyond the monthly budget she managed, but there wasn't much she fancied and the merchant she went to for ribbons and such things wasn't set up today.
Odd. He usually was, on weekdays.
Pondering the mystery, Moriko fiddled with the yellow ribbon. She was snapped out of it by the sound of a commotion from down one of the side streets. She paused, stepped back, and did a half-turn to peek around the corner.
It looked like a simple back alley scuffle between street boys, but one of them had the clear upper hand over the other three; she surmised he might have had actual training--not to mention the knife in his hand which was keeping any of the others from getting too near him. The 'commotion' had been verbal barbs and a trash can lid clattering to the ground.
The boy with the knife had tousled dirty blond hair and very pale blue eyes, as well as an air of danger to him. This was despite the fact his clothing indicated he was not a street child at all, being in good repair and clean.
They were all around her age too. Moriko edged just a bit closer, hoping to eavesdrop and see if anything interesting was going on before she decided whether to get involved.
"--don't give even half a damn if you swipe something from the table, but you won't be taking my things."
That was the blond boy. A merchant's son? The clothing would fit. So would the cultured accent.
"Look, we can sell it for money we need," the largest of the other three said, dark green hair half-covering his eyes. "There's no need to get all stabby, okay?"
"I do not care," the blond boy said levelly. "That's your problem, not mine. I have little enough truly my own as it is."
"Yeah right," one of the others scoffed, reddish hair sticking up on end, but Moriko's ears had pricked at that; she well knew the situation of being well-off and yet your parents not giving enough of a damn about you for you to have many of your own possessions.
"...Rush him," the green-haired one said after a second. "He's not going to stab us. Spoiled merchant's kid, never seen violence in his life."
Yep. She was right.
"So you think," the blond boy returned. His first action was to lash out with his knife, catching them by surprise, and slash a very deep cut high across the chest of the redhead before taking advantage of their resulting shock to bolt off.
In her direction. Moriko had already decided she didn't need to be in this, but the boy's pale blue eyes caught hers and he reached out with his free hand to grasp her wrist. To her mild irritation he was stronger than her, but she refused to be dragged and followed him running. Possibly those boys were out for blood now, from the shouts behind them, and might just take it out on anyone who looked too well-off.
So she didn't object to him tugging her along and matched pace rather than waste time asking things like 'why?'
Finally they stopped in a more defensible location, behind what looked like the dumpster for a restaurant by the contents visible inside its open lid. Possibly neither of them could have run much longer; Moriko was certainly breathing hard despite being in good shape.
"Sorry about that," the boy said as he recovered his breath. "I didn't think it was a very good idea to leave you there with them angry."
"People tend to be upset when you cut their friends open," she agreed mildly, reaching down to adjust her socks. "Where are we? I've lost track entirely."
"So've I," he said with a sigh. "Never been good at directions. It was a small miracle I managed to track them down in the first place."
"Over what?" she asked curiously, and he produced a small tape wordlessly from a small bag at his belt. Music, definitely. "Oh. All right, then."
There were shouts here and there; the boys chasing them undoubtedly did know these alleys and the two of them weren't even aware of how to get back on the main thoroughfare.
"That's it?" he said, peering at her. "Most people would be curious why I'd be willing to cut someone open over a cassette."
"You said it was important to you and you don't have much," she said with a shrug. "Plus those boys were in your way and you caught them off-guard. Good tactical decision, albeit you could have pressed your advantage."
"I've never been good at that kind of thinking. I mostly just lashed out and bolted on instinct," he said. Glancing in the direction of the increasingly loud voices, he added, "If you want to head off now, that'd likely be your best bet."
Moriko gave this a solid five seconds of thought. She had nothing to do today, so she shook her head. "No thanks. I don't like your impulsive odds, and I don't mind violence."
"Somehow I guessed that," he said, dryer than the desert. "If you're capable of your own violence I'd not say no to the help, then."
His voice sounded quite nice like that. "I don't have anything better to do. And yeah, sure I will."
The voices kept getting louder, and she stretched a bit. Fists would do; it wasn't like she had much else other than tripping people and kicking. Besides, in a set-up like this, they might be less likely to target her with another available.
"Down here!" one of them yelled from very close, and Moriko cracked her knuckles while the boy twirled the knife in his hand into proper position expertly.
"By the way, it would be remiss of me to not introduce myself before we wade into battle together," the boy said. "I do at least have some manners, after all. Tsukiya."
"Moriko," she returned in kind, similarly leaving off her family name.
"Where the hell did the girl come from?" was the first thing out of green-hair's mouth when he and the other two rounded the corner into the alley. Moriko cracked her knuckles.
"Uh?" the redhead with the cut in him said, sounding dumbstruck. Likely not a long trip for him, albeit his already-torn shirt had been torn more and used as a very makeshift bandage for the cut, though it was soaked with blood already. "I don't know. Another merchant's kid?"
"No," she said, and didn't elaborate.
"Whatever," the third one said. "She's pitched in with the little shit."
It might have been an intimidating situation, had Moriko that kind of nerves. As it was she was ready when they charged forward, and caught one by the wrist to twist. His other arm came up to punch at her, but she blocked it with her arm and kicked his knee, making him yelp; she hadn't held back at all on that blow. The boy fell to his knees and she gave his wrist one last sharp twist, not stopping until she heard the crack of bone and he gave a pitiful whimper, collapsing as soon as she let go to cradle it.
Tsukiya appeared to be doing just fine on his own, largely because the redhead couldn't move very fast with a pre-existing injury. Likewise he seemed unbothered by inflicting injuries.
Redhead might have thought her an easier target, being unarmed, and switched to her as soon as he saw she wasn't being engaged. He was slightly cleverer than his crying friend on the ground and went for a kick with his long legs first, but she saw it coming with the slow-down he had and grabbed his leg at the knee.
"Fucking bitch," he hissed at her. Unbothered, she wrenched his knee. He stifled a cry and managed to get out of her grasp before she was able to attempt dislocating his kneecap. "This isn't your fight!"
"You're attacking me, so I disagree," Moriko said easily. She didn't overextend herself, content to let him do so.
Unfortunately he pulled out a switchblade from his belt--objectively a bad choice against the superior knife Tsukiya was wielding, but not so much against someone fighting unarmed. Evasion was her main choice here, particularly since there were no improvised weapons within reach. He lashed out at her with the switchblade, possibly gambling on a block like she'd done to his friend, but she stepped back out of his reach. His attacks were clumsy from his injury but would still hurt if he landed.
He lunged forward suddenly, catching her off-guard by using his free hand to grab her shoulder. She barely managed to twist away while held and the blade cut through her wrist ribbon, sending it fluttering to the ground, rather than disabling her arm as no doubt intended.
Fighting to injure, then. Not for keeps.
His mistake.
She kicked at his knee, and while he was engaged in that turned it into a feint to pull herself free and grab the wrist holding the switchblade with her dominant left hand, squeezing hard to make him drop it.
This time he yelped and did drop the knife, the metal clattering against the cobblestone ground loudly. When he flailed away she briefly took note to see his wrist had iced over.
Huh.
Well then.
"You done?" she asked, making sure to inject contempt into her voice. Like she couldn't fight because she was from a well-off family! Serve him right for underestimating her.
"Bitch is a ninja," redhead spat in the direction of his green-haired friend, who was now sporting multiple deep gashes of his own--albeit none in near as vital an area. Moriko didn't bother correcting him that she wasn't yet.
"This one too, probably," green-hair said. He looked to be trying to disengage but Tsukiya wasn't letting him. There was a slight sparkle in his pale blue eyes, as if he was enjoying this. "Think you're better than us. We'll see how much better you are when I get the rest of our crew on you."
"Ah," Tsukiya said, pausing his attack briefly. "So you're going to get more people if you make it out? I see."
Moriko appeared to have been the only one expecting his next action, from the yell that went up as he darted forward, wove around the green-haired boy's block, and with a single sharp slash opened up his throat.
Green hair collapsed with no fanfare, dropping to the ground at Tsukiya's feet. Moriko was mildly impressed. Clearly this boy had the right priorities.
"Shit--" redhead started, but Moriko lashed out again and grabbed his wrist in her right hand before instinctively driving her left forward into his chest hard. Ice spread out from her hand, doing little more than making his bones freezing cold despite the heat--but it was cold enough to freeze and make them brittle, letting her blow crack his chest open and collapse his lung.
She dropped him and turned to Tsukiya, who was giving her an admiring look. They both stepped in sync over to the one she'd snapped the wrist of earlier; there was water under his wrist no doubt from her unconsciously freezing it earlier. Both of them ignored the sounds of the redhead flopping around and trying to gasp behind her.
"Do you want this one or should I?" Tsukiya asked, casually spinning his knife again in long fingers.
Moriko pondered this, before leaning down to pick up the switchblade from the other one. "Give you this to let me."
"I'm not obsessed with knives," he said, a slight lopsided curve to his mouth that could have been a half-smile. "...Still."
She handed it over wordlessly and he accepted, tucking it into his belt and stepping back to give her the space. Without any particular sense of mercy or empathy, she drew the cold into her hand and knelt down. These shoes would be hell to get blood out of so she oughtn't use them.
The boy was trying to at least sit up despite the obvious intense pain his arm was in, but she put her other hand on his side, holding him down.
"Shh shh," Tsukiya said above them, obviously talking to the boy. "It'll be over soon."
No point in asking for last words either. It was a useless affectation. Moriko reached out with her cold hand without hesitation, grasped the boy's neck, and squeezed until she felt and heard the wet crack of bone under it and he fell still, staring skyward and wrist still cradled in his other hand.
She stood and dusted herself off, this time much less performatively, and shifted away from the blood seeping from the one Tsukiya had killed.
"That was fun," she said, meaning it--and not just because she could go to the academy now. "Do this often?"
"Not really, actually," he said. "I just started at the academy last month. I haven't seen you there."
"I haven't been yet," she said, slightly emphasizing 'yet.' "My family won't let me until I display bloodline limit traits."
Tsukiya's gaze fell briefly to the melting ice on the boy's neck, then went back to her with a raised eyebrow.
"Exactly," she said. "So I can go, now."
"See you there then, I suppose," he said. "Unusual bloodline limit for the desert."
She mirrored his earlier curved smile. "I guess. We've been here a while, you know."
"I thought as much." He glanced down again and then shrugged, seeming to put it out of his mind. He started out of the alley and she fell into step beside him. "I'm still not sure how to get back to normal civilization, but at least we won't have that lot bothering us while trying."
"I can work out where to go from the Bazaar," she said with a shrug, similarly unconcerned. It would be put down to a scuffle between street kids when anyone found the bodies.
"Likewise," he said, and they went about attempting navigating, moving toward crowd sounds when they heard them. In short order they turned and were faced with a main road that went right into the Bazaar.
Moriko halted, for the first time uncertain. Sunakagure was a big place, and she mightn't easily run into the only person she'd actually ever enjoyed spending time at even at the academy.
"Here," Tsukiya said, and she started, turning to him. He was holding the yellow ribbon that had come off her arm earlier. "It's no good to wear anymore I suppose, but I thought you might want it back. Plus, evidence."
"...Yeah. Thanks." She took it carefully. It was a shame, but she had other yellow ones at home, and the event had been worth the loss of it. "I guess I'll buy a couple more with pocket change when the merchant who sells them is back."
Tsukiya made a face at that. "Most likely my father is busy acquiring more emergency rations and other such supplies for the end of the world he's sure will happen any day now. He's liable to be back tomorrow."
"I mean, things get violent around here sometimes and so on, but end of the world is a little much," she said, not thinking until she'd said it she might have offended her new friend. He was giving her that curved smile again, however.
"He's cracked in the head. So's she," Tsukiya said dismissively, obviously referring to his mother. "They forget to pick up normal food. It's honestly a miracle they manage to stock the stall. I mostly fend for myself."
"My mother doesn't like having much to do with things that aren't work," she said, and shrugged loosely. "So I get it. I do too. There's more than one way to have a rough life and those kids didn't get that."
"I thought we might be similar there." He rolled his shoulders. "I ought go for groceries, as I was going to before that lot sidetracked me. Will I see you at the academy, and should I look?"
"Tsurara Moriko," she said, this time giving her family name so he could find her. "And count on it."
He held out a hand and she accepted it to shake, but he took hers and lifted it to place a light kiss to the back of her hand. Moriko felt her cheeks colour slightly, but didn't protest or pull away. He clearly had actual manners.
"You're not cold at all," he said, giving her hand a light squeeze before letting go. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Tsurara-san."
"Moriko," she said, and he gave her a slightly startled look, but nodded. She didn't care if it was forward; she didn't stand on formality.
"Moriko-chan, then," he said, and dipped his head to her before heading out into the crowd of the Bazaar. She watched him go, slightly lightheaded, and then turned to head home herself to prepare lunch of some manner.
Not a second thought given to the decisions behind any of her actions that morning.
Moriko sat perched on a rooftop, kicking her legs idly as she watched the market a block over. (For some reason people didn't like children perched over the marketplace itself, so this had to be close enough.) Her youngest cousins were there with their parents, picking out new pet dune rabbits. In such a crowd, four heads of light blue hair like her own were still relatively easy to pick out. They were at one of the pet merchants' stalls, the children shuffling along the cages curiously and presumably checking out each rabbit for one they liked.
No one had asked her to watch from a distance, and her aunt and uncle (something-cousins something-removed technically) were both capable ninja, but still she felt some obligation to. Aside being bored, that was, considering as this wasn't very interesting.
Moriko's mother Yuri had never taken her to get a pet. Not that she wanted a pet, but still, it would maybe have been nice to be asked. And after all, there was nothing wrong with rabbits, though she wasn't sure why it was such a 'tradition' to go and pick one out for so many of her cousins. Calling it a real tradition seemed very generous despite how the adults referred to it as the practice had only started a year or two before Moriko had been born, when they had moved the clan root and branch to Sunagakure from their old home.
Perhaps that was another reason Yuri hadn't bothered.
One of the small blue heads stopped and appeared to be gesturing excitedly to one of the rabbits. This one was, if she squinted, a cream colour. Good to pay attention too; little kids got distressed when pets got lost. It didn't take long for the other one to start bouncing in front of a darker brown rabbit, and soon her aunt and uncle were exchanging coin with the merchant, assuring the woman they had food for rabbits (she assumed), and bundling off out of the market with the rabbits in the arms of their new owners.
Moriko stood carefully and stretched her arms overhead before turning to clamber down the jutting bricks that had been her way up. The clan elders disapproved of her climbing things prior to any ninja training much like they disapproved of her sitting on the edge of a roof while wearing a skirt, but she didn't have to pay attention to their disapproval and so didn't.
There was a practical element to one and not the other, but she had yet to slip and was always particularly careful on the way down even when the stones were very rarely wet.
Reaching the ground, she brushed herself off, having somehow acculumated the sand she was shedding despite the lack of touchdown on the ground since she last brushed it away. Moriko made a face; it was uncomfortable under her fingers but she preferred this to carrying it home and later having to (ugh) sweep.
It was nowhere near any meal time and she didn't feel like visiting any of her frequent haunts, so she picked her way through safer but still less-traversed passages to the market herself, absently adjusting the yellow ribbon tied around her wrist. Technically she had some pocket change beyond the monthly budget she managed, but there wasn't much she fancied and the merchant she went to for ribbons and such things wasn't set up today.
Odd. He usually was, on weekdays.
Pondering the mystery, Moriko fiddled with the yellow ribbon. She was snapped out of it by the sound of a commotion from down one of the side streets. She paused, stepped back, and did a half-turn to peek around the corner.
It looked like a simple back alley scuffle between street boys, but one of them had the clear upper hand over the other three; she surmised he might have had actual training--not to mention the knife in his hand which was keeping any of the others from getting too near him. The 'commotion' had been verbal barbs and a trash can lid clattering to the ground.
The boy with the knife had tousled dirty blond hair and very pale blue eyes, as well as an air of danger to him. This was despite the fact his clothing indicated he was not a street child at all, being in good repair and clean.
They were all around her age too. Moriko edged just a bit closer, hoping to eavesdrop and see if anything interesting was going on before she decided whether to get involved.
"--don't give even half a damn if you swipe something from the table, but you won't be taking my things."
That was the blond boy. A merchant's son? The clothing would fit. So would the cultured accent.
"Look, we can sell it for money we need," the largest of the other three said, dark green hair half-covering his eyes. "There's no need to get all stabby, okay?"
"I do not care," the blond boy said levelly. "That's your problem, not mine. I have little enough truly my own as it is."
"Yeah right," one of the others scoffed, reddish hair sticking up on end, but Moriko's ears had pricked at that; she well knew the situation of being well-off and yet your parents not giving enough of a damn about you for you to have many of your own possessions.
"...Rush him," the green-haired one said after a second. "He's not going to stab us. Spoiled merchant's kid, never seen violence in his life."
Yep. She was right.
"So you think," the blond boy returned. His first action was to lash out with his knife, catching them by surprise, and slash a very deep cut high across the chest of the redhead before taking advantage of their resulting shock to bolt off.
In her direction. Moriko had already decided she didn't need to be in this, but the boy's pale blue eyes caught hers and he reached out with his free hand to grasp her wrist. To her mild irritation he was stronger than her, but she refused to be dragged and followed him running. Possibly those boys were out for blood now, from the shouts behind them, and might just take it out on anyone who looked too well-off.
So she didn't object to him tugging her along and matched pace rather than waste time asking things like 'why?'
Finally they stopped in a more defensible location, behind what looked like the dumpster for a restaurant by the contents visible inside its open lid. Possibly neither of them could have run much longer; Moriko was certainly breathing hard despite being in good shape.
"Sorry about that," the boy said as he recovered his breath. "I didn't think it was a very good idea to leave you there with them angry."
"People tend to be upset when you cut their friends open," she agreed mildly, reaching down to adjust her socks. "Where are we? I've lost track entirely."
"So've I," he said with a sigh. "Never been good at directions. It was a small miracle I managed to track them down in the first place."
"Over what?" she asked curiously, and he produced a small tape wordlessly from a small bag at his belt. Music, definitely. "Oh. All right, then."
There were shouts here and there; the boys chasing them undoubtedly did know these alleys and the two of them weren't even aware of how to get back on the main thoroughfare.
"That's it?" he said, peering at her. "Most people would be curious why I'd be willing to cut someone open over a cassette."
"You said it was important to you and you don't have much," she said with a shrug. "Plus those boys were in your way and you caught them off-guard. Good tactical decision, albeit you could have pressed your advantage."
"I've never been good at that kind of thinking. I mostly just lashed out and bolted on instinct," he said. Glancing in the direction of the increasingly loud voices, he added, "If you want to head off now, that'd likely be your best bet."
Moriko gave this a solid five seconds of thought. She had nothing to do today, so she shook her head. "No thanks. I don't like your impulsive odds, and I don't mind violence."
"Somehow I guessed that," he said, dryer than the desert. "If you're capable of your own violence I'd not say no to the help, then."
His voice sounded quite nice like that. "I don't have anything better to do. And yeah, sure I will."
The voices kept getting louder, and she stretched a bit. Fists would do; it wasn't like she had much else other than tripping people and kicking. Besides, in a set-up like this, they might be less likely to target her with another available.
"Down here!" one of them yelled from very close, and Moriko cracked her knuckles while the boy twirled the knife in his hand into proper position expertly.
"By the way, it would be remiss of me to not introduce myself before we wade into battle together," the boy said. "I do at least have some manners, after all. Tsukiya."
"Moriko," she returned in kind, similarly leaving off her family name.
"Where the hell did the girl come from?" was the first thing out of green-hair's mouth when he and the other two rounded the corner into the alley. Moriko cracked her knuckles.
"Uh?" the redhead with the cut in him said, sounding dumbstruck. Likely not a long trip for him, albeit his already-torn shirt had been torn more and used as a very makeshift bandage for the cut, though it was soaked with blood already. "I don't know. Another merchant's kid?"
"No," she said, and didn't elaborate.
"Whatever," the third one said. "She's pitched in with the little shit."
It might have been an intimidating situation, had Moriko that kind of nerves. As it was she was ready when they charged forward, and caught one by the wrist to twist. His other arm came up to punch at her, but she blocked it with her arm and kicked his knee, making him yelp; she hadn't held back at all on that blow. The boy fell to his knees and she gave his wrist one last sharp twist, not stopping until she heard the crack of bone and he gave a pitiful whimper, collapsing as soon as she let go to cradle it.
Tsukiya appeared to be doing just fine on his own, largely because the redhead couldn't move very fast with a pre-existing injury. Likewise he seemed unbothered by inflicting injuries.
Redhead might have thought her an easier target, being unarmed, and switched to her as soon as he saw she wasn't being engaged. He was slightly cleverer than his crying friend on the ground and went for a kick with his long legs first, but she saw it coming with the slow-down he had and grabbed his leg at the knee.
"Fucking bitch," he hissed at her. Unbothered, she wrenched his knee. He stifled a cry and managed to get out of her grasp before she was able to attempt dislocating his kneecap. "This isn't your fight!"
"You're attacking me, so I disagree," Moriko said easily. She didn't overextend herself, content to let him do so.
Unfortunately he pulled out a switchblade from his belt--objectively a bad choice against the superior knife Tsukiya was wielding, but not so much against someone fighting unarmed. Evasion was her main choice here, particularly since there were no improvised weapons within reach. He lashed out at her with the switchblade, possibly gambling on a block like she'd done to his friend, but she stepped back out of his reach. His attacks were clumsy from his injury but would still hurt if he landed.
He lunged forward suddenly, catching her off-guard by using his free hand to grab her shoulder. She barely managed to twist away while held and the blade cut through her wrist ribbon, sending it fluttering to the ground, rather than disabling her arm as no doubt intended.
Fighting to injure, then. Not for keeps.
His mistake.
She kicked at his knee, and while he was engaged in that turned it into a feint to pull herself free and grab the wrist holding the switchblade with her dominant left hand, squeezing hard to make him drop it.
This time he yelped and did drop the knife, the metal clattering against the cobblestone ground loudly. When he flailed away she briefly took note to see his wrist had iced over.
Huh.
Well then.
"You done?" she asked, making sure to inject contempt into her voice. Like she couldn't fight because she was from a well-off family! Serve him right for underestimating her.
"Bitch is a ninja," redhead spat in the direction of his green-haired friend, who was now sporting multiple deep gashes of his own--albeit none in near as vital an area. Moriko didn't bother correcting him that she wasn't yet.
"This one too, probably," green-hair said. He looked to be trying to disengage but Tsukiya wasn't letting him. There was a slight sparkle in his pale blue eyes, as if he was enjoying this. "Think you're better than us. We'll see how much better you are when I get the rest of our crew on you."
"Ah," Tsukiya said, pausing his attack briefly. "So you're going to get more people if you make it out? I see."
Moriko appeared to have been the only one expecting his next action, from the yell that went up as he darted forward, wove around the green-haired boy's block, and with a single sharp slash opened up his throat.
Green hair collapsed with no fanfare, dropping to the ground at Tsukiya's feet. Moriko was mildly impressed. Clearly this boy had the right priorities.
"Shit--" redhead started, but Moriko lashed out again and grabbed his wrist in her right hand before instinctively driving her left forward into his chest hard. Ice spread out from her hand, doing little more than making his bones freezing cold despite the heat--but it was cold enough to freeze and make them brittle, letting her blow crack his chest open and collapse his lung.
She dropped him and turned to Tsukiya, who was giving her an admiring look. They both stepped in sync over to the one she'd snapped the wrist of earlier; there was water under his wrist no doubt from her unconsciously freezing it earlier. Both of them ignored the sounds of the redhead flopping around and trying to gasp behind her.
"Do you want this one or should I?" Tsukiya asked, casually spinning his knife again in long fingers.
Moriko pondered this, before leaning down to pick up the switchblade from the other one. "Give you this to let me."
"I'm not obsessed with knives," he said, a slight lopsided curve to his mouth that could have been a half-smile. "...Still."
She handed it over wordlessly and he accepted, tucking it into his belt and stepping back to give her the space. Without any particular sense of mercy or empathy, she drew the cold into her hand and knelt down. These shoes would be hell to get blood out of so she oughtn't use them.
The boy was trying to at least sit up despite the obvious intense pain his arm was in, but she put her other hand on his side, holding him down.
"Shh shh," Tsukiya said above them, obviously talking to the boy. "It'll be over soon."
No point in asking for last words either. It was a useless affectation. Moriko reached out with her cold hand without hesitation, grasped the boy's neck, and squeezed until she felt and heard the wet crack of bone under it and he fell still, staring skyward and wrist still cradled in his other hand.
She stood and dusted herself off, this time much less performatively, and shifted away from the blood seeping from the one Tsukiya had killed.
"That was fun," she said, meaning it--and not just because she could go to the academy now. "Do this often?"
"Not really, actually," he said. "I just started at the academy last month. I haven't seen you there."
"I haven't been yet," she said, slightly emphasizing 'yet.' "My family won't let me until I display bloodline limit traits."
Tsukiya's gaze fell briefly to the melting ice on the boy's neck, then went back to her with a raised eyebrow.
"Exactly," she said. "So I can go, now."
"See you there then, I suppose," he said. "Unusual bloodline limit for the desert."
She mirrored his earlier curved smile. "I guess. We've been here a while, you know."
"I thought as much." He glanced down again and then shrugged, seeming to put it out of his mind. He started out of the alley and she fell into step beside him. "I'm still not sure how to get back to normal civilization, but at least we won't have that lot bothering us while trying."
"I can work out where to go from the Bazaar," she said with a shrug, similarly unconcerned. It would be put down to a scuffle between street kids when anyone found the bodies.
"Likewise," he said, and they went about attempting navigating, moving toward crowd sounds when they heard them. In short order they turned and were faced with a main road that went right into the Bazaar.
Moriko halted, for the first time uncertain. Sunakagure was a big place, and she mightn't easily run into the only person she'd actually ever enjoyed spending time at even at the academy.
"Here," Tsukiya said, and she started, turning to him. He was holding the yellow ribbon that had come off her arm earlier. "It's no good to wear anymore I suppose, but I thought you might want it back. Plus, evidence."
"...Yeah. Thanks." She took it carefully. It was a shame, but she had other yellow ones at home, and the event had been worth the loss of it. "I guess I'll buy a couple more with pocket change when the merchant who sells them is back."
Tsukiya made a face at that. "Most likely my father is busy acquiring more emergency rations and other such supplies for the end of the world he's sure will happen any day now. He's liable to be back tomorrow."
"I mean, things get violent around here sometimes and so on, but end of the world is a little much," she said, not thinking until she'd said it she might have offended her new friend. He was giving her that curved smile again, however.
"He's cracked in the head. So's she," Tsukiya said dismissively, obviously referring to his mother. "They forget to pick up normal food. It's honestly a miracle they manage to stock the stall. I mostly fend for myself."
"My mother doesn't like having much to do with things that aren't work," she said, and shrugged loosely. "So I get it. I do too. There's more than one way to have a rough life and those kids didn't get that."
"I thought we might be similar there." He rolled his shoulders. "I ought go for groceries, as I was going to before that lot sidetracked me. Will I see you at the academy, and should I look?"
"Tsurara Moriko," she said, this time giving her family name so he could find her. "And count on it."
He held out a hand and she accepted it to shake, but he took hers and lifted it to place a light kiss to the back of her hand. Moriko felt her cheeks colour slightly, but didn't protest or pull away. He clearly had actual manners.
"You're not cold at all," he said, giving her hand a light squeeze before letting go. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Tsurara-san."
"Moriko," she said, and he gave her a slightly startled look, but nodded. She didn't care if it was forward; she didn't stand on formality.
"Moriko-chan, then," he said, and dipped his head to her before heading out into the crowd of the Bazaar. She watched him go, slightly lightheaded, and then turned to head home herself to prepare lunch of some manner.
Not a second thought given to the decisions behind any of her actions that morning.
Word Count: 3317
