Weeds!

[odoroki]

Mist clung to everything around the young man as he stood off to one side of the village square. People pushed their way through the swirling clouds of moisture, creating a mesmerizing dance inside the square. The buildings played hide and seek with his vision, allowing only brief glimpses before disappearing again behind the grey wall. How was one supposed to find anything in this village when it was always so damn foggy?

Eko sighed. Being part of the Village Hidden in Mist comes with certain guarantees, and with mist in the name, that was one of them. The craftsman looked at the piece of paper in his hand and set off in the direction of the address scrawled on it.

He could say that he wasn’t excited about the prospect of this mission. Not that he cared much for shinobi work anyways for he’d rather be at his forge hammering away at some stubborn piece of steel than pulling weeds for some old man whose trade was beneath his own. But, his options were rather limited for his first mission and this seemed the most like manual labor so he had volunteered for it. Maybe the old man would have some knowledge on owning his own business that he could at least put to use in setting up his own shop. This village had more use for swords than roses so it couldn’t be that hard to find business but Eko was not one for jumping head long into something he had little knowledge about. At the very least, he would get some exercise from the mission.

Walking along the streets of Kiragakure felt more like shuffling to one’s own crypt than a leisurely stroll through a park. Mist obscured his view but it felt like there were eyes watching him from just outside the realm of his own vision. It was an unsettling feeling that had him scanning his surroundings with his azure eyes more than once. Death was a feeling that clung to this village stronger than the mist and it was dangerous just being out in public alone. His size and the spear strapped to his back kept many attackers at bay but he knew that there were bolder adversaries just waiting out there just behind the grey curtain. Even though it was cool, a sweat ran down the young craftsman’s spine. Being part of the Village Hidden in Mist comes with certain guarantees, and death was one of them.

Luckily, Mr. Ayabito’s flower shop was the only thing that confronted him from out of the mist. Oddly, the mist around the building seemed to weaken and there were even rays of sunshine that pierced through the haze to shine upon it and the expanse of rainbow colors that formed row upon row behind it. It was an odd splash of color that seemed to defy the gloom that surrounded it as if daring it to encroach upon its vibrant threshold. Eko would be lying if he said it wasn’t beautiful to behold and a definite improvement upon the rest of the depressing architecture that made up the village. Still, he found the inclusion of a flower shop within a shinobi village rather odd. “I guess even shinobi have to court their sweethearts with something other than violence and steel,” he sarcastically remarked, causing the corner of his mouth to twitch up into a sly smirk. “Better get this over with before somebody finds me here.”

[odoroki]

Eko shifted his feet as he waited outside the ornate door that led into Mr. Ayabito’s flower shop. The smell of the blossoming flowers that stood sentry outside the door invaded his nostrils and made his nose itch terribly. There was a sneeze building in his nasal cavity but no amount of twitching his nose or itching it with his finger could coax it out. His brow furrowed with the concentration as he tried to get the feeling in his nose to go away but it stubbornly stayed put. Even the muscles in his stomach got in on the act as if forcing harder blasts of air through his nasal passages would push the sneeze out but still, nothing came forth.

The bell above the door jingled softly as the door before him swung inward, lamp light spilling out from the door to drive some of the gloom away. Eko was forced to give up his efforts against the persistent sneeze and bowed stiffly to the elderly gentleman that had opened the door. As he got up, he went through the standard protocol. “Good morning Mr. Ayabito, my name is Ekokoro and I was sent by the Mizukage to ACHOO!” The sudden and violent expelling of the contents of his nose caught the Genin off guard, sneaking up on him before he could get a hand up to block it. The scene played out in slow motion. His eyes opened and he could see the snot blob spinning through the air, its intended target, old Mr. Ayabito’s face. He stood there frozen in horror, unable to think of something to do to prevent the tragedy unfolding in front of him from occurring. He cringed as he saw the blob of snot smack the old man in his liver spotted forehead and he swear he saw his head snap back slightly in response, whether from the force of the blow or in reaction to it he could not tell. Either way, this was not the introduction he had hoped to make.

They stood there staring at each other, the mucus slowly making its way down the old man’s forehead before being intercepted by his deep, bushy eyebrows. Eko’s mouth hung open as he tried to formulate the words of apology that jumbled up his brain which allowed the old man to remove a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe away his forehead. The craftsman lifted a hand as if he were going to help but lowered it quickly. Not much he could do now that he hadn’t already done. Angry at himself and stubborn as a mule, he pushed past the initial hitch and gave Mr. Ayabito a deep bow, finishing his introduction. He was careful not to lift his eyes up to meet the old man’s for fear of seeing the glob of mucus he had left there.

“Quite a pair of lungs you got there, young man,” Mr. Ayabito admired as he finished wiping his forehead clean. “Can’t say you wouldn’t be the first to be a sneezin’ when they come near my flowers but most are courteous enough to cover their mouths when they do.” Eko’s eyes went wide and he was about to apologize when the old man interrupted him with a raspy laugh and a feeble clap upon his shoulder. “Come now, young’n, lighten up and come inside will ya? It’s chilly out here and that draft ain’t doin’ my old bones no good.”

Woodenly, Eko followed Mr. Ayabito into the brightly lit shop. Immediately, his nose was assaulted by the overwhelming fragrance of the room and he once again let loose a mighty sneeze. This time, he made a conscious effort to block his mouth with the crook of his arm. Snorting up the liquid running from his nostrils and wiping the remains of it away with wrist. The sneeze brought another bout of laughter from the flower shop owner but Eko wasn’t aware of what was so funny.

As they made their way to the back of the store, Eko made a mental note of how the store was arranged. It appeared the more vibrant shades of color made up the bulk of the front of the store where they would catch the customer’s eye. Afterward, they were neatly arranged by size and color down the row; red, blue, yellow, purple and then combinations of the colors were arranged towards the back. Every now and then, a beautiful arrangement of flowers broke the flow of the row which Eko could not gather the purpose of other than to break the customer’s attention away. He sniffled as he walked past a vase filled to the brim with a rainbow of shades which caused another sneeze to escape him and more laughter from Mr. Ayabito. Miserably, he muttered under his breath how much he hated flowers and wished he was in a blacksmith’s where the only smell that assaulted you was that of smelted irons, sweat and burning wood.

They reached the back door that led out the fenced off garden area Eko saw earlier but before he could get on with the mission, Mr. Ayabito ducked behind the counter that stood beside it. Behind the counter, the craftsman noted the collage of pictures that decorated the wall. It was mostly of varying flower types but he spied many pictures of a possibly younger Mr. Ayabito with his family. Seeing the flower shop owner lovingly play with his kids made the Genin’s chest feel as if it suddenly caved in on itself. With a sneer, he looked away from the collage and would have spat in disdain if he didn’t want to dishonor the old man’s shop. A loving family was something that Eko lacked experience with and whenever he saw traces of it, it disgusted him. His mother was all right, but his father… That son of a bitch…

“Here we are!” Mr. Ayabito’s words broke Eko away from his thoughts and he snapped back into reality. The old man slowly straightened behind the counter, holding an orange bottle in his bony fingers.

“What is that?” Eko asked, his voice sounding nasal and funny to his ears as he tried to hold the stream of fluid from escaping his nose.

“Somethin’ that’ll make your work a bit easier, son,” Mr. Ayabito said as he made his way around the counter. “Take a couple o’ these and you won’t be sneezin’ on me ennytime soon, ha!” He rattled the bottle in front of Eko. Reluctantly, the craftsman outstretched a calloused hand. Mr. Ayabito lifted a bushy brow when he saw the young man’s hands. “Those be a worker’s hands, if I do say so myself. I ne’er seen no ninja with hands that beat up.”

Eko looked at his hands and didn’t see anything wrong with them. They were strong and large, perfect making steel sing and sparks dance. They were hands that created. They were his hands and he was proud of the way they looked. “I’m a blacksmith,” he boasted as he turned his hands in front of the old man. “I wouldn’t think that most ninja use their hands as hard as I do, well, except maybe those Taijutsu users who don’t do any Ninjutsu.”

“Heh, a fellow entrepreneur then?” the old man inquired, a look of admiration passing over his glassy eyes as he took the craftsman in fully. “I shoulda known from the size o’ ya, son. Probably strong as an ox too!” Eko shrugged. He didn’t think himself strong, knowing how some of his trade could bend steel without even heating it. Still, a shade of red crept up on his cheeks. “I could always use a strong lad like yourself around. Got myself a lot of weeds in the back that need taking care of before they choke the life from my flowers.”

Eko’s brow furrowed as he tried to comprehend what the old man meant. “Um, sir, that’s what I’m here for.”

Recognition suddenly flashed in the old man’s face and it was his turn to turn slightly pink from embarrassment. “Oh, tha’s right. Silly me. Well, you get to it, young man and make a good job of it too. Mebbe I’ll throw in somethin’ extra for ya.”

The old man turned away but stopped when Eko let out a polite cough. “Excuse me,” Eko said. “But, about those pills you were offering earlier.”

“Wha… Oh, yes. Damn this old man’s brain!” Mr. Ayabito admonished as he turned around. Eko held out his hand and the old man sprinkled to white circles into his hand, followed by the rest of his bottle as a spasm suddenly seized his hand. Quickly, the Genin grabbed the bottle from his hand. Embarrassed once again, Mr. Ayabito sullenly scratched his wrinkled brow.

“It’s okay,” Eko soothed as he poured the excess pills back into the container. “I got it.”

“Yes, yes…” Mr. Ayabito responded though his said though he sounded far away. Eko let a moment pass. Nothing came forth from the old man so he just put the bottle on the countertop and swallowed the two pills in his hand.

“Well, I’m going outside then. I’ll report back when I’m done, okay?” Eko announced, a little more concern in his voice then he intended. Mr. Ayabito remained unresponsive. Sucking on the inside of his cheek, Eko gave a perfunctory bow and headed to the flower garden outside.