Outskirts of Amegakure, Afternoon
Trouble and Taro went together like... Something good and something else good. Or something bad and something equally bad. The point is, Taro found himself in trouble a lot. Fights, scrapes, bang up jobs, you name it, he'd tried it.
Of course, being a Shinobi meant you weren't really allowed to go out and act like some sort of miscreant on a mission to cause as much strife as possible. You were military. You had like, a job to do. And stuff.
Not that it ever stopped Taro. No, he just came up with different ways to get into scraps and scrapes without getting others involved. That was technically being responsible, right? If he was only beating up some gangsters and not involving the locals, was that really such a problem?
...Maybe. Maybe not. Point is, last scrap Taro got into was outside of Amegakure. Not far outside, mind you. It's not like he'd traveled half the land of storms or anything- Just far enough out that someone would squint very hard at him if they saw him doing such a thing, but perhaps he could argue he was still within the borders of the village.
...Okay, probably not, but still. At least he won this one. For the most part, anyways. His right shoulder was dislocated, he had a chipped rib, and there were more then a few cuts and bruises on him, but man, you should have seen the other guys.
Don't actually look for the other guys though. Just take his word for it that he got out of it much better than they did, promise. Not that really changed much, because now he was stuck outside of town, hurt, and without the ability to go back into said town without someone catching him and no doubt ratting him out for causing mischief outside the village.
Oh how his parents would be disappointed in him if they saw him now...
Regardless, Taro sat up against a rather large tree, sheltering himself from the rain as he slowly wrapped bandages around a rather nasty cut from a knife over his left arm. It was a pretty piss poor job, but to be honest, he wouldn't die. As long as it didn't get infected or something. His eyes were wandering around, making sure nobody snuck up on him while he was recovering, but thankfully the stormy weather the land was known so well for was hiding him from most darting eyes- Which made it much, much easier for him to sit back and try to relax.
He'd probably have to wait overnight, at least until the wounds healed properly... And he could make up a good enough excuse. Though, he was pretty bad at those. He teetered on the edge of figuring he'd be better off just being honest about what he was doing out here, but in truth, his teenage mind saw that as a risk he didn't want to take, and felt lying would be a much more appropriate line of action.
To that end, here he was, out in the rain, blood soaking into the ground as he nursed his wounds. ... At least this day couldn't get any worse, right?
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