The Toraono Dojo was a veritable wealth of knowledge. It was the footpath to the subterranean village that fearfully held onto what they were. Refugees from the disaster years ago as well as displaced clans have made this massive structure their home for the last several years and it would seem that they have no immediate plans of departing any time soon. It was amazing how much power this clan had amassed in such an insidious manner. The village leaders were fools if they could not see it. The family was a dangerous liability. Even if there was no malevolent intent, such a state would prove ephemeral because it only takes one with a selfish ambition. She was not here to save anyone. She was just here to take notes. She knew her time and her freedom would be fleeting, it always was in this world of monsters and men. She would sit on the floor, her legs bent to brace her book and her pen as she started to scribble notes and pencil scenes. What she drew was seemingly random, people passing by. Their expressions immortalized. A picture was worth more than a thousand words. Well hers were at least. She did not know their names but she knew who they were. By their wedding bands and their Chuunin vests. The limp in their leg or the scar they endured. What people carried with them was also telling, almost as telling as what one would interpret their reasons. It was an old training exercise that she recalled from her childhood. There would be a man crossing the street, he was carrying a bouquet of flowers. The question posed: where was he going? The data was insufficient to give an answer, not with the information posed however almost everyone would give the same two answers:
- He was doing to a date.
He was going to a funeral.
The question was not posed to determine their skill in assessment but rather how they saw the word around them -- as a word of hope and optimism or a world of depression and sadness. It was a powerful lesson, a lesson about assumptions and how your sentiments cloud your judgement and bring you to a hasty and biased conclusion in spite of your most honest efforts. She was rarely wrong but since she was freed from Nao's influence, a part of her was lost and then replaced. She found herself angrier than before. Her passions were harder to contain. She would bite her lower lip hard as she shaded her present sketch, a pretty girl who caught the eye of the ANBU that was playing doorman. The ANBU was married, he was wearing a ring but whenever she was nearby he would wiggle the humble golden band off his finger and shove the ring in his pocket. He was making small talk, she could not hear the topic but she could tell by his non-verbals that he was simply talking. His stature was normally taller but he was leaning forward rather than tall. His hand was resting on the table and she could see the restless movement of his left foot. Just the toes. She wondered if that was a nervous tick. The irony of this was the fact that the ANBU was being cat-fished, there was a henge in use. "She" was really a middle-aged man, likely a private eye attempting to incriminate him as a cheater. That was of course her first guess, the most probable. He was not an ANBU of high enough station to be targeted for secrets. The only person he would hold high value in the eyes of would be his wife. His wife had good reason to distrust him, this was likely not the first time. She wondered how many times and for how long his wife 'knew.' The use of a detective suggested that she had already confronted him and he promised to change or she was gathering evidence to confront him. Some women did that, they checked thrice to be certain before they made a call in haste. They were prudent women. She wondered if that ANBU's wife was prudent or if she was seeking a favorable position in the divorce that was likely to follow. Custody of children. Division of shared resources and savings.
She would clap her book closed. She was snot here to record the dissolution of an ANBU's marriage. There were still several hours left to this day before she would turn in. She was not willing to stay in a single place for a long period of time. That was how people like her were found. Her over-sized book held under her arm she would walk away, the passageways the Dojo boast deep underground were interesting. They were how the Cabal infiltrated the village. Of course there was more to it than that, the Cabal was looking for 'a treasure.' More specifically they were looking for several but in the short time they held Sunagakure they never found them. There were artifacts buried in this desert that predate the first men. Weapons and relics of untold and forgotten power. She knew that they would not be found in a dusty, forgotten room in the basement of the dojo. These items were too old.
Still she wanted to get away from the crowds, the deep depths were comforting when she felt restless since the change. A place she could think.
Not Staying here for long.
[in and Out - Runtime S Rank - 1 hour]
This is NOT a Going Missing Post
This is NOT a Going Missing Post