[Kyodai Utsuwa]

Perhaps this was all a great mistake. But they had naught of value to lose, so some foolishness was warranted.

Utsuwa's most recent attempts at proselytization had resulted in mixed results, to put it mildly. Their finger traced the still-healing stitches across their throat. A partial conversion. Had they not educated thoroughly enough? Was the suffering insufficient? Or were other means needed? They had been cautioned that preaching the word of their god was likely to achieve little but their death. And yet everyone needed to know of Jashin-sama's grace.

And that had led them here. A burst granary, and work to be done. A show of good faith. That their petition to join these upcoming and so-called examinations was earnest. Physical work was largely unfamiliar to them, their hands more often stained with ink or blood than marked by calluses. They hefted the shovel they had been granted, staring at it in apparent fascination. It seemed primed to be the tool of a Jashinist, with only a few adjustments. Not that Utsuwa would be worthy of such an ostentatious educational tool.

Barefoot and wearing threadbare, ragged robes, and a frayed tengai-gasa obscuring their features, they looked to the shinobi that had been assigned their observer and helper both. Then to the sky. A pigeon. Time, it seemed, was growing short.

"Though it grieves me to deny thee and thine the suff'ring of lack and famine, 'twould appear that we must needs make haste," Utsuwa said pleasantly. "Through tedium and exertion, thou may yet suffer. That, by Jashin-sama's grace, shalt suffice." Utsuwa wandered over to a wheelbarrow, their movements unhurried despite their words. They studied it, and came to a simple understanding.

It would likely take many hours, but shoveling grain into barrows and moving it to the intact granary was the only solution they saw. Unless their red-headed heathen had some other, more blasphemous scheme.

[Honō Saya]

Saya wasn’t sure what to think of her "partner” for this mission.

On the one hand, Nohara no Kuni was home to a wide swath of faiths, with temples and shrines dedicated to several different gods, some of whom provided their faithful with potent blessings that nearly matched the powers wielded by Shinobi. But on the other hand… She didn’t know all that much about Jashinism, but even a cursory look through what records she was allowed to access painted a grim picture of the religion- a brutal faith focused on inflicting pain, there seemed to be no real redeeming qualities to it beyond some anecdotal accounts of its adherents being "made immortal through suffering.”

Still, the order had come down from on high- Lord Ichi wanted this Utsuwa watched, her motives assessed and her fitness to participate in the upcoming Chuunin Exams tested. So she’d agreed, thankful for the (relatively) light work the mission would require of her; she met the girl (and she did look like a girl, with that long hair and slight frame), their silence and threadbare clothes only slightly less intriguing than the frayed tensai-gasa that covered their face. What do you have to hide?

"I’ll do the shoveling, if you push the wheelbarrow." Saya said after a moment, honey-yellow gaze lingering on the Jashinists’ long, mostly unkempt hair as she studied the wheelbarrow, who was seemingly unfamiliar with how it worked. She had picked the more demanding of the two jobs, though not out of pty shoveling was hard work, demanding in a way few realized, and with the way her… partner looked, she wasn’t entirely certain she would be up to the task. At least the wheelbarrow had a wheel.

"We should get to work. This grain won’t stay untouched for long."

Kyodai Utsuwa

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

Nodding absently, Utsuwa passed over the shovel, and began to experiment with the wheelbarrow. It was, fortunately, a fairly simple tool to use, though it still took Utsuwa a moment to work out how to move it effectively. It was becoming increasingly clear that even routine manual labour was fairly alien to them. And that they were not in any particular hurry.

Though they still intended to work, as they wheeled the narrow closer to the shinobi.

"I had thought that thee and thine were bound utterly to thy profane magicks. Yet even thy foul blasphemies can not subvert nature at every turn, 'twould appear," Utsuwa continued to speak pleasantly, apparently determined to coax a conversation out of the kunoichi, oblivious or uncaring of the fact that their previous comments had been ignored. Utsuwa watched a pigeon approach the grain, greedily pecking at the scattered seeds. Utsuwa took their hands off the wheelbarrow, and made to pursue, but spooked the pigeon, which returned to the rest of its gathering kin. Utsuwa frowned, as they returned to their assigned task.

Perhaps they needed to remain still, and draw them close, before striking? They would be paltry offerings, but offerings nonetheless. Utsuwa thought little of animals, truthfully. There was no point inflicting suffering upon those incapable of reflection.

"Pray tell; what drew thee thence to thy profession anon? Wherefore dost thou wield this... ninpō?" The word remained unfamiliar and reluctant on their tongue, as though Utsuwa was reluctant to even give it its proper name.

[Honō Saya]

Say stabbed her shovel into the pile of grain, digging deep into the mess to pull up a full shovel, which she dumped up into Utsuwa’s proffered wheelbarrow with a breath. There wasn’t much else to the job; it was a D rank mission, a task that would’ve been handled by a full team of Genin on a good day, with no real chance of combat or danger. Just slow, tedious work meant more to keep kids busy and put some money in their pocket than anything else. Which is odd, given I’m supposed to see if my partner is fit for the Exams…

The thought echoed through the Hono girl’s head as she shoveled, glancing at her fellow worker between scoops until, when the wheelbarrow was half-full, she spoke, answering the other woman’s question with hesitant honesty.

"Family." She said, dumping another shovelful before planting her toll into the dirt and looking at the Jashinist, her gaze calm but stern. Or as stern as it could be, anyway. "My clan has served Kusagakure for as long as it has existed; my parents were Shinobi, as were their parents, and their parents before them. It is as much in my blood as my hair color." There were other reasons, of course- personal ones, which the other woman had no business knowing, not when they would likely never see each other again once this was all done.

"And you?" Saya asked as she picked her shovel back up, hefting another load of grains into the nearly full wheelbarrow, honey-yellow gaze curious. "What led you to worship this… ‘Jashin?’"

Kyodai Utsuwa

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

"Blasphemy doth not run in the blood. Thy sins art thine own artifice," Despite the content of the words, the time remained cheerful. A friendly warning, a pastoral caution.

And it would fall on deaf ears. It always did. The truth needed a sharper chisel than Utsuwa's words to cleave through the generations of lies and deceit. "So thy progenitors chose their path, and thou wouldst walk the selfsame one, bereft of doubt, of question? Passing strange art ye heathen." Utsuwa blinked, staring at the circling birds as they hefted the barrow. "The bonds of blood strangle and suffocate. I pray that they bring unto thee agony and despair."

The barrow was filled, and Utsuwa laconically made their way to the intact granary for storage. Haste, it seemed, was not in their antiquated vocabulary.

They returned with an empty barrow and an answer. "I was taught the capacity of the human body to suffer. And I suffered. Drank deep of suff'ring 'til naught else remained. An empty vessel became I, then filled with Jashin-sama's oblivion, His truth, His purpose." Behind the tengai-gasa, Utsuwa smiled widely. "Sufferest I no longer, and wish only to share this blessing mine with every soul. Even to ye infidel, heathen, and blasphemers. Thee and thine shalt witness Jashin-sama's benevolence ere long, demonstrated through this body, this unworthy vessel."

[Honō Saya]

Saya arched a single eyebrow at the other woman’s choice of verbage, lips parting as she silently mouthed the word "blasphemy,” her honey-yellow gaze watching the birds out of the corner of her eye. If they got too close to the grain pile she could easily pick a few of them out of the air with a kunai, but for now they were simply circling, curious but not yet intruding on the precious grains. So it was that she stood, watching the birds in silence as Utsuwa wheeled the barrow to the new silo and dumped the grain inside. She returned not long after, and with her came a proper answer to the Hono girl’s question- though it did little to help her understand the why of it all.

"I wouldn’t say they suffocate, or that it wasn’t my choice to follow in their footsteps." She said after a moment, sticking the shovel back into the grain pile as she spoke, her tone growing just a hair harsher than could be explained by the effort; it was still rather full, but the barrow had taken a good dent out of it, perhaps a sixth or so, which meant they would have to do this a few more times before the work was done. "My parents were heroes. In becoming a Shinobi, I’m not just heeding the call of my blood- I’m honoring their memory."

Another pause came, slight but obviously noticeable as she shoveled grain into the barrow, her pace steady but quick enough that she could puntate her sentences in between scoops, her tone flat and pointed. "From where I’m standing, it sounds a lot like you were tortured into serving Jashin. Not much of a choice in that, is there?"

Kyodai Utsuwa

[Kyodai Utsuwa]

"Every one of thy honors is anathema to another. Nation, pride, clan,magick, thee, I... all shalt become ash, memory, then naught. Beg thy pardon, but I perceiveth not value in thy vainglorious labors." Given that the task was a routine one to ensure that Utsuwa was not here to cause the village harm, nor waste its time, they were likely doing a poor job by antagonizing their partner. But there was no complaint about the work itself, and they worked diligently enough.

"There was a choice. Inasmuch as any soul may make claim to have will, I hath and had it." Though still cautious of the Shinobi and priest, the pigeons had begun to descend, to try and take the grains that had escaped Saya's shovel. Picking at the periphery, but more gathered.

Utsuwa watched them, body still as the held the barrow in place, and continued to speak. "I possessed then the same choices before thee anon. Suffering, oblivion, else obeisance. I chose the latter. 'Tis true and plain: torture pressed the issue. But as regret is like to hath no purchase within thy heart, I am like unto thee." Utsuwa's tengai-gasa remained turned towards the birds, and a keen eye would note that they had shifted weight to the balls of their feet - the beginnings of an aggressive fighting stance, even as they held the wheelbarrow.

[Honō Saya]

Saya watched the birds from the corner of her eye, gaze lingering on the steadily growing flock that had gathered around the perimeter of the grain pile. As much as she wished to argue the point with Utsuwa, and she did want to argue the point, the pair of them were on a mission, important to not only the village but the farmer’s whose grain would rot if left out for too long. There simply wasn’t time to do both effectively- so, with a sigh, the red-headed Genin dropped another shovel of grains into the barrow, then leaned her tool against the receptacle, looking towards the birds.

"We’ll have to deal with them before we can continue." She said, glancing at her partner with modicum of curiosity; those who gained blessings from a god were said to possess gifts that almost rivaled Ninjutsu in their versatility and, while it was unlikely the woman would show any significant against a flock of pigeons… this was a chance to learn, if only a little, what Jashin provided to his faithful. "I can lend you a kunai, if you need a weapon."

The Hono girl paused, looking back towards the birds as she drew Hitsuiken from its sheath on her hip, wondering if the Jashinist would actually take her up on the offer. Just in case, she reached into the pouch situated on her back and pulled one out, carefully proffering it to the other woman while keeping an eye on the birds. They didn’t have much time before the flock swarmed down- if she wanted it, she would have to take it now.

Kyodai Utsuwa