[Moriko]

✚ Hand Puppets and Haymakers ✚

Excitement flowed through the form of the girl as she left the academy grounds. It had been the first day since her change that she had returned to class, and she was determined to go see more of this amazing place immediately. Though that had stoped her from becoming the cloak that she was and doing her best to try and untie shoe laces. Not many people wore shoes with laces in the academy it turned out! That had not stopped her from trying anyways. That was a job she could only do when not attached so readily to the clone transformation that allowed her to move in any capacity at all.

Walking the halls slow as to absorb everything she looked struck by everything around her. Maybe that was because her newest set of eyes were rebirthed to the genuine innocence of curiosity. It had half-killed the apparent tanuki girl before, curiosity that is, but it was certainly not lost upon the Densetsu that found herself practicing the god awful clone of conversation that Moriko had to use. She still didn't know enough to fully use the other technique that made up the open ways of communication she had. She would certainly learn though, that did not mean her oblivious self wasn't going to puff completely back to just being her cloak and scarf on the ground as she accidently bumped into someone.

---

kagayaku sumire ✚ Hex: #f0a461 ✚ Notes?

tempbyai

[kagayaku sumire]

THE UNAVOIDABLE SUN

Only a few months had passed since Sumire entered the academy, signing on to a multi-year commitment with not even a moment’s hesitation… and already the lessons were becoming unbearably dull. Actual practice was fine. Throwing kunai, sparring, practicing ninjutsu; any time the class went out into the training yard, Sumire was engaged, the novelty of a fresh experience and moving her muscles in a brand-new way entertaining enough for an afternoon. But, always, they would finish up the practical exercise and shuffle on back to the classroom to learn more about Iwagakure history, or chakra theory, or how to calculate the trajectory of a shuriken flying at twenty-five kilometers per hour with a wind resistance of five kilometers per hour that ricochets off a lamppost and into a densely populated street. Or whatever. Honestly, she didn’t really mind doing the last thing. If you change the angle of the throw by fifteen degrees west, you could reasonably hit at least five people, and there were other variables that could shift in order to cause maximum damage; but then, apparently, the point of the exercise was to avoid civilian casualties, and Sumire lost interest again. She was walking back to her apartment, idly considering the possibilities of using a shuriken to ricochet off of another shuriken and deflecting both of their trajectories as a result when— poof. Sumire blinked. She was reasonably certain that she had just walked into someone, a brief apology rising to her lips, but instead of another person there was only a quickly-dispersing cloud of smoke and a bright red… cloak? Scarf? Laying on the ground in front of her. She picked it up, bundling it in her arms as she looked around for who she had just accidentally shoulder-checked, and who the cloak might belong to.

Moriko -- 301

LAIKA OF THQ

[Moriko]

✚ Broken Language is still Language ✚

Welp, there went her focus on the clone again. God that thing was so annoying... why had mom and dad not given her a meister in the academy again? Oh yeah, she had absolutely refused to accept that sort of deal when it took away her free decision. She had refused so much in fact, they had sent her to school without her cousins around in case it broke her transformation technique. That was fine though! It had let her re-explore the streets that she had once run through with no worries.

Perhaps that was also why she had been taking to trying to learn language and communicate with people more actively... her mindscape was not complete though, as much as she was trying still in training at home. Pushing chakra into the arm length of cloth that was the scarf she would wriggle the now rigid line of cloth free and raise the bladed tassels up and away from Sumire's face, waving vigorously before beginning to click the fake solid digits in a fashion that sort of resembled the shapes of words.

Moriko was grinning where no one would ever see though as she did. Hoping to use this opportunity as a prank, she could only find herself dreaming that maybe this was also how she bullied convinced someone to take her around. She was supposed to be finding a meister, why not some random off the street? It sounded fun the more she thought about it, and Moriko really wasn't a thinker.

"Heyo, I Momo, can you me wear?"

---

TAG ✚ Hex: #f0a461 ✚ Notes?

tempbyai

[kagayaku sumire]

THE UNAVOIDABLE SUN

It took her a second to catch up, but once she realized what was going on, Sumire pieced together the letters: Momo, can you me wear? "Momo,” Sumire said softly, looking down at the cloth. Was that… its name? It was quite possibly dangerous. She had never seen anything like this before. Who knew what would happen if she put it on—maybe slit her throat and drink her blood, or strangle her to death, or possess her and force her to commit heinous acts of violence and destruction. And with all of those possibilities carefully considered, their consequences weighed in her mind, Sumire lifted the cloak up in both hands, shaking it out to un-bundle it, and pulled it over her shoulders. She knew a little bit of sign language—kind of. Her brother and his… associates… used a rudimentary form of it to communicate when they didn’t want to be overheard, apparently not cognizant of the pre-teen girl picking up their dirty plates while they surreptitiously discussed operational needs with their hands. She knew words like stop, run, go left/right/ahead, retreat, kill. And she could make letters with her fingers—that was the easy part. Unsure if the sentient cloak could hear her, Sumire spoke aloud, slowly and carefully as she tried to fingerspell at the same time: "I’m Sumire. What now?”

Moriko -- 221

LAIKA OF THQ

[Moriko]

✚ Warm Hugs ✚

She understood! She understood! It was finally hug time. Moriko loved hugs, especially giving them. She couldn't of chosen a better form than this for the kind of spirited thoughts she had towards hugging then a cloak and scarf. Claspiong into place, Moriko would move her scarf out and away, shaking as she did, "Trade offer: Momo offer warm hugs, you wear Momo for hugs and legs you b-"

As she moved to sign the last word the scarf went limp as the strain of even such a basic application of chakra proved tricky for a genin. Staying that way for what was probably a good minute she would finally manage to spring her bladed scarf 'back to life' like a hand puppet that was too heavy to keep held up. Moriko would point forward, then left and right. Which direction did Sumire need to go? Moriko was in for the ride now.

"Hug time no less then hour, Momo hear not word of argue," the scarf would sign, obviously still new themselves to the art of speaking this way from the horrid errors they seemed to accruing to her speech, but Moriko's shape would seem to be more comfortable then most cloaks that Sumire may have worn in the past. Perhaps this was a good deal for her? Moriko had no clue, this was all for fun really!

---

TAG ✚ Hex: #f0a461 ✚ Notes?

tempbyai

[kagayaku sumire]

THE UNAVOIDABLE SUN

More than fingerspelling, the scarf was actually making signs, which Sumire had a harder time keeping up with. She frowned as she watched the bladed-tassel-fingers, glancing down only briefly when she realized that the cloak had clasped itself around her neck, and had settled comfy-cozy onto her shoulders like a warm blanket. Like a hug. —offer, Momo offer—Momo— it was hard to follow what the scarf was saying, and then abruptly, it went limp. Sumire plucked at the fabric, adjusting it around her shoulders and neck, flapping the long scarf-part gently to see if it would wake up. But it just laid there, inert, for almost a full minute more, before perking back up like nothing had happened, and started gesturing in different directions. —no—argue, Sumire caught. She tilted her head quizzically. With how rudimentary her knowledge of sign language was, this was never going to work. She had been going home, to her apartment, where she was going to make dinner and lie down and stare at the ceiling for several hours until she fell asleep. Now, instead, she went in the opposite direction: back towards the Academy, and into the library. It took a few minutes, but Sumire was able to find was she was searching for: a sign language dictionary, with pictures and all. Grammar was a separate issue, but she could figure that out as she went; for now, she just needed the vocabulary. There was one particular sign that Momo had used a few times, but where was it—translating the shape of blades into the pictures of fingers in the book, and the arrows indicating movement, was no easy feat, but she found it after a bit of searching. Hug. Sumire flipped through a few more pages, and then said, tentatively forming signs of her own: "Momo wants hugs?”

Moriko -- 304

LAIKA OF THQ

[Moriko]

✚ Dictionary Definition of Dependent ✚

Vigorous nodding as Sumire had responded to her. Moriko was practically pressed into her new friend, though, it was more like wearing a blanket then a physical presense. The tanuki cloak was simply surprised by the fact that Sumire seemed to be taking the initual conversation in stride like she was. For the Ha girl, this was the sort of thing she would have thought would have resulted in some sort of larger reaction then what she had just gotten out of her new companion. Perhaps it was this that made her seem to still completely as Sumire had traveled back to the library of the academy from the street. What was she after?

Some super secret ninja tool that you had to wait until after hours for? An extra lesson to buff her up a heckin ton? There could have been an absolute multitude of reasons for why she was doing that! All of them struck her as exciting; then a dictionary... this was fun too in its own way Moriko supposed. Flopping around for a short moment as she once more strained to pick up her cloak hand, too lazy to try for the transformation.

"Hugs, yes. Momo hate alone, need companion for hugs. Name is H A M O R I K O, Momo M O M O fine though," she would sign out her name before showing the way she was taught by her mother to sign Momo. Her 'thumb' crossing three fingers to overlap the 'pinkie' while staying open. The hand bouncing up and down to actually show that the letters travel together, before explaining it was how to sign her name by spelling it... or trying. It probably looked awful as the hand went limp once more.

---

TAG ✚ Hex: #f0a461 ✚ Notes?

tempbyai

[kagayaku sumire]

THE UNAVOIDABLE SUN

Maybe it was an irrational reaction, the calm with which Sumire was handling a host of new experiences all at once. Perhaps someone else in her situation would have been more startled or taken aback, at the very least wary of a seemingly autonomous scarf that put more and more pressure on her shoulders and back as time went on. It would have been logical, sensible, for her to freak out or run for help or wrestle the thing off her, since there was absolutely a chance that it could kill her, with the way it was clacking those bladed tassels around. But the simple explanation was that Sumire was curious, and that this was far more interesting than the precisely nothing else she had planned for her day, and that it had been a long time since she cared very strongly whether she lived or died. The blades moved quickly, and Sumire had to put some genuine effort into remembering the shapes they made as she quickly flipped through her dictionary, holding the image of fingers in motion as precisely as she could in her mind as she slowly, painstakingly translated out what the cloak was trying to tell her. Ha Moriko. Momo. Ha… wasn’t that one of the shinobi clans? She vaguely remembered learning about some of the different major clans of Iwagakure in class. Weren’t they weapon masters? Maybe they used some kind of… secret chakra technique to give their weapons and gear personalities. Souls. "I’m Kagayaku Sumire,” she said, carefully fingerspelling her name. A few minutes more of flipping through the dictionary to find her words, then: "Momo can stay. Come home with me? School tomorrow?”

Moriko -- 280

LAIKA OF THQ

[Moriko]

✚

Sleepovers Allowed?

✚

The "hand" of the living cloth froze in a position like a closed mouth pointed at Sumire. Frozen in time immormorial Moriko's ability to thousand yard stare was only accentuated by the pure disconnect of her control on the scarf once more. Falling limp once more as the Ha girl went into a nearly palpable stupor of sorts. Uncertain if she was allowed to go home with Sumire... was that okay? Was she going to be allowed? Was it? She was absolutely curious, but even more so... what did other people's houses look like? Was she the only one that cared?

Deciding off her own feelings towards the matter lay in the direction of the firmly positive YES camp, she would struggle against the already mounting exhaustion of raising their hand to try and talk with the girl. The chakra flow awkward to some degree, this was an odd body.

All the same, she pushed against herself to lift the tassels and sign a single word in return before flopping, "Sometimes."

The faintest hint of excitment and exhuation filled the back of Sumire's mind. As quick as the concept to tiredness appeared though, Moriko's impression of thought, the beginning of the bridge, faded away.

---

TAG ✚ Hex: #f0a461 ✚ Notes?

tempbyai

[kagayaku sumire]

THE UNAVOIDABLE SUN

Just as quickly as they had started, the clacking tassels stopped, frozen in midair and falling limp against Sumire’s chest. She frowned, thin fingers of her own hand resting delicately on the rich red fabric, smoothing out a wrinkle that wasn’t there. She had more questions than answers, her heart quickening with excitement at the prospect of this strange new adventure giving her something interesting to do for the first time since she had come to Iwagakure. What was this cloak, exactly? Who were the Ha? Why did Momo come alive and fall limp as suddenly and arbitrarily as a flopping fish? Curiosity burned, but even as Sumire considered her options, a yawn cracked her jaw wide open, her eyes prickling with the beginnings of bedtime. It was early yet, and she still had to make dinner, but she felt as tired as if she’d just gone through a whole extra afterschool training session. Sometimes, Momo said. Sometimes what? Momo can only sometimes go to school, or go home with her? The correct thing to do might have been to track down the Ha clan; surely there was a compound somewhere in the Hidden Village. But the book of sign language was what was drawing Sumire’s immediate attention, and her eyes were growing heavy with an exhaustion that wasn’t entirely her own—though the connection was there and then gone, barely present long enough for Sumire to notice at all. "Okay,” she said softly, slowly signing along as she spoke. She wasn't even really sure if it mattered, but once she got an idea in her head it was impossible to dislodge, and she had firmly decided that she was going to learn this language. She'd need all the practice she could get "I’ll take you to school tomorrow… and then we can go find the rest of the Ha.” She didn’t bother to check the book out, and the librarian didn’t even notice her leaving, much less the hefty tome in her hands. "For now,” she said, "let’s go home.” Simple as that.

Moriko -- 343

LAIKA OF THQ

[Moriko]

✚ Cuddle Buddy Powers Activate! ✚

It sounded like an adventure was beginning to unfold and Moriko would be lying if she was to try and state that she was anything but ecstatic about that. Adventures were awesome just like this girl she was now attached to. Embracing Sumire in the warmest of hugs, or the closest approximation one got from sentient cloth that couldn't really move itself. She wasn't going to complain at all, never never never! She had legs again, good legs, fast legs, the fastest ever! Or they would be. Moriko would make sure of that, perhaps speed was not everything, but when it came to travel it was Momo's everything.

Soon Sumire would be part of that, at least if the stubborn raccoon dog had her way. Like any good Ha, she would certainly get the last laugh if she could project herself outwards. She had not been a Dansetsu long though and that made her want to leech onto someone. A cosmic joke that she was useful again, yet had to still rely on someone else to move. Moriko would just need to make them the fastest chariot, not that she actually knew how to do that.

She sat snugly on Sumire silent from having already strained her ability to move herself so far. Like an untrained muscle using chakra to force her scarf to move was hard still, but she would get better. She had already improved to some degree. Training was a tomorrow problem though, post sleep over... even though she didn't sleep... that just meant more time for hugs! Hug time was good.

---

TAG ✚ Hex: #f0a461 ✚ Notes?

tempbyai

[kagayaku sumire]

THE UNAVOIDABLE SUN

Sumire’s new friend was silent and unmoving, yet warm and weighty on her shoulders. Though she spoke softly under her breath the whole way home, the scarf made no movement or response; it seemed as though Momo had exhausted its coming-to-life powers, which was perhaps what it meant by sometimes. When she arrived home, she toed off her shoes in the doorway and dropped her bag on the floor, propping her sign-language book up on her kitchen counter as she set about preparing her dinner. She kept talking as she did so, idly narrating each thing she was doing as if describing her actions to a blind man: I’m pouring one tablespoon of oil into the pan. I’m seasoning the salmon with shoyu. I’m measuring rice and water for the cooker. Each time she said a word she didn’t know how to sign, which was all of them, she looked it up in the dictionary, and she formed the word with her fingers, and by the end of three hours she had a dinner of overcooked rice and burned salmon and a significantly stronger vocabulary. Momo remained on her shoulders even as she washed her face and brushed her hair and got ready for bed. When she laid down to sleep in the much-too-large western-style bed that her brother had spent far too much money on, she forewent her usual bundle of blankets, instead cozying up inside of Momo’s warm hugs like a long-lost friend. [fin.]

Moriko -- 245

LAIKA OF THQ