[shitai mitsuki]

WE'RE LITTLE DIFFERENT FROM THE BEASTS THEMSELVES

It had not been terribly long since Mitsuki was reinstated as a genin, and she had hoped to ease a little more gently into things; but she was gently told that rearrangements were being made as to the team dynamics, and in the meantime would she be able to assist with some number of missions in Nohara no Kuni? One of the other genin team leaders, a Kyuumu clansman with a warm smile, would be escorting her to the allied nation. There was a fort on the northern border of Nohara no Kuni that needed renovations, and genin from Kusagakure and its allies alike were being called in to assist with the building efforts. Though Mitsuki was anxious about traveling so far abroad so soon after—well, after, she was relieved to know that the mission details seemed relatively straightforward, and there was unlikely to be any real threat of conflict. They were to rendezvous with a Kusagakure genin upon their arrival, who would be able to direct the mission more effectively. When they arrived at the fort, Kyuumu-sama suggested they split up—she should find her teammate and get started on the mission objective while he met up with the fort’s captain to check in. If he noticed the sudden spike of anxiety and the widening of her forest-green eyes when he made the suggestion, he obliquely ignored it, bidding her farewell and good luck with a rakish grin. So she supposed she was on her own. She held her mission scroll in a death grip as she tentatively made her way through the fort, trying not to make direct eye contact with any of the Kusagakure shinobi while also trying to identify her assigned teammate. Kyuumu-sama had told her their name, though she struggled to remember it now, and she hoped beyond hope that they would miraculously appear in front of her soon.

Gure, Okingshi -- 313

LAIKA OF THQ

[Gure, Okingshi]

A bell tolled loudly thought-out the encampment, stirring life from the bitter sting of mornings' cold caress. And mustard yellow light begun crowning horizon's peak, flaring through the dark burlap fabric of an aged marquee. With slumber interrupted none were more agitated than the figure left alone to sleep in, and yet awakening limbs slowly heaved his mass of flesh vertical. Now on his feet, the Gure's body swayed as he struggled to remain of present mind. After a few moments with eyes closed, they snapped wide open with a disquieting glare. A loud groan exited his dry throat as bent down to reach for his signature cloak, still as dirt and mold ridden as ever.

Draping the material over his hunched posterior Okingshi stumbled his way toward the entrance, leaving the tent for his daily duties at the outpost. Deathly white as sun's sudden blistering presence illuminated his form, Okingshi walked toward the building to be renovated. The locals whispered amongst themselves as their judgmental eyes watched the Kusagakure shinobi's staggered approach. Okingshi kept his own unsetting gaze downturned, yet ever watchful of his surroundings.

As he lumbered forward, he happened to glance toward two faces unfamiliar and untarnished by the grime of the arduous work which had been assigned. It didn't take a second for him to notice the Kumogakure headbands adorned on one of their hips. Despite the questions that roused into his mind, the young genin remained disinterested and instead ever focused on the work at hand.

•notes:

Word Count: 251

[shitai mitsuki]

WE'RE LITTLE DIFFERENT FROM THE BEASTS THEMSELVES

With her supervisor gone, and none of the Kusagakure shinobi speaking up to claim Mitsuki as their mission partner, she was left with little recourse but to unfurl the mission scroll and read over its contents for what felt like the dozenth time since her departure from Kaminari no Kuni. There was no information to be gleaned there that she didn't know already: after arriving in Kusa no Umi, rendezvous with the repair team and assist in the renovation efforts with the materials already provided. Mitsuki huffed a low, exasperated breath, her silvery-white fringe falling into her face. Summoning her courage, she straightened her back and surveyed her surroundings with a keener, more careful eye; it felt like slipping into a uniform, donning the cool, collected persona that carried her through so many of her social interactions. She was a shinobi, and even if this was a low-stakes mission, she needed to act like it. There appeared to be ongoing construction on a number of buildings, but one was earlier in its renovation cycle than the others, and it was towards this building that Mitsuki watched a young man swathed in a dark purple cloak approach and begin to get to work. He wore a Kusagakure hitai-ate, but he seemed to pay her no mind, which made her think that perhaps this was not her intended mission partner... She was all too familiar with the sound of the hushed whispers of gossiping townspeople, and she recognized it instantly when the murmurings began in the young man's wake. Well, if there was work to be done, then she was here to do it. Her resolve steeled, Mitsuki approached the young man, her pale lips curved into a polite smile as she gave a brief wave to catch his attention. Once earned, she would offer a perfunctory bow, and introduce herself. "Good morning," she said. Polite, refined, professional. The Adjutor's Heiress, worn like a cloak around her shoulders. "My name is Shitai Mitsuki, of Kumogakure. I have orders to assist with the renovations. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Gure, Okingshi -- 349

LAIKA OF THQ

[Gure, Okingshi]

Okingshi's head lifted from beneath his cowl, peering toward the platinum-haired beauty with his crimson dead eyes. The honey-sweet voice that slipped passed her pastel rose lips instantly drew his attention. A staggered breath left his covered mouth momentarily, before it became audibly heavier and laced with its signature rasp. As the hot air left his lungs, expelled outward from his respirator, the morning dew became visible. He couldn't describe the feeling immediate, but something about her and the way she spoke felt like anthesis; even if it was just an introduction. The Gure's gaze struggled to linger on what he could only imagine was the face of an angel; he couldn't help but memorize each and every detail instantly before looking away. Had she not talk to him, Okingshi would have never noticed she stood out above the rest.

The boy averted his sight from the girl toward the ground as his hand rose out for a handshake; unlike the rest of his attire the gloves he wore were pristine white without a speck of dirt or filth. "G-gure, Okingshi.. It's a pleasure to meet you, M-Mitsuki-san.." he stammered. He quickly pulled his hand away before continuing. "Kumogakure, I've been there. It's really a beautiful place..." He looked around the wet, muddy construction site then to his own clothes. "It's not as glamorous here" he sighed.

He turned and begun to walk toward the current focus of construction, a half built four-story outpost that clearly stood out from the rest of the scenery. "We have two options today. Either we help move materials or work on the surrounding camouflage... take your pick." He groaned, seemingly wrestling with a pain in his throat to get each word out.

•notes:

Word Count: 288

[shitai mitsuki]

It was difficult to get a read on the cloaked young man—half his face was covered by a gas mask, while a cowl shrouded his hair and the rest of his head. Crimson eyes were the most of what she could see of his face, piercing and vivid. His breath came ragged from the respirator, sounding heavy and painful. A strong scent wafted from his person—the cloak, perhaps—sharp and earthy like mold. An odd trait, but after making the observation Mitsuki thought nothing further of it, and with time she would hardly notice it at all. "The pleasure is mine, Gure-san,” Mitsuki replied. Before she could shake his hand—perfectly clean, she noted, unlike the rest of his attire—he had pulled it back, and she wondered if she had done something wrong. He seemed pleasant enough, but… had she offended him in some way? Perhaps she’d come on too strong? Doubt tugged at her mind. "I think it’s charming,” she said. The sentiment was sincere: this muddy, run-down fort and its half-built outpost were a far cry from the magnificent, freezing halls of the Shitai clan’s fortress, which was exactly why she liked it. It was warm, homely, filled with life. Mitsuki followed in Okingshi’s wake; to those murmurs that followed them, Mitsuki lifted her chin and stared down the gossipmongers, a glint in her eye that brooked no argument and tolerated no nonsense. An echo of her grandmother, perhaps, but an effective one in this instance: by the time they’d done a loop around the outpost, the gossipers had filtered away to preoccupy themselves with other matters. She deliberated the decision at hand, considering both the project they needed to tackle and the very painful sound coming from Okingshi’s throat—but before she could voice her opinion in any direction, the foreman working at the top of the outpost hollered down at them. "We need people on camouflage,” he shouted, waving them off in that direction. "I suppose the decision has been made for us,” Mitsuki said with a rueful smile. She didn’t much relish the thought of playing in the dirt, but needs must. "But… are you well, Gure-san? Would you like to take a break to drink some water?”

Gure, Okingshi -- 370

LAIKA OF THQ