Sound of Spirit [O]

[Oshiro]

Much had happened since she had left the once peaceful home she had grown up in back behind the walls of Iwagakure no Sato. She had lost her father not long ago and because of his disgraceful funeral she and her family decided to leave. Her mother stayed behind to fight their pursuers and left Aogi, her brother, and herself to continue forward and live. Then he too was taken from her by the dogs of Konohagakure no Sato and she was left all alone.

Momo had barely even made it into Ta no Kuni until she had exhausted what energy she had left and passed out from the lack of nourishment, sleep, and the general worry plaguing her. Thankfully she had been found and carried off to the emerging village of Otogakure no Sato, the village hidden in sound. Perhaps because the village was pretty much filled with renegades and wanderers that what happened next transpired.

She had become a Chuunin, retaining her previous rank, for Otogakure.

Even the locals who were part of the village didn't seem to mind. It was as though it was a common occurrence to have new people coming into their midsts. However, it was nice, almost refreshing even, to find that there was still a place in this world as hospitable as this. Her new headband hung around her neck much like her Iwagakure one had once done. That one, however, lay in her new one room apartment with a scratch going through the double rock symbol it adorned.

Never again will I go back to that place.

Her resolve to grow stronger is what pushed her now, strong enough to make her new home proud of her and to welcome the idea that taking her in was the best thing they could do. But really, Momo needed to get stronger in order to go back to Hi no Kuni and find her brother, Aogi. Otherwise, what was the point? Even if she found him to be dead, at least she would have closure on the subject---as sad as it would be.

For now, however, she had decided to get acquianted with the general area, specifically with Otogakure no Sato and its underground layout. If anything, just maybe, she could potentially even find a friend that wouldn't look at her like she was a piece of trash from a failed clan...

Now she was one---unique, and that's what she would play on.

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[minakami masaki]

the vibe

When it came to clan failure, the Yoshida could have written a book on the subject. Even though Masaki hadn't used his birthname since becoming a Minakami, he still found himself humbly connected to the clan he was birthed under by a fine red thread. This thread was one that he could not sever, and only one of many that often submerged his conscious in the past.

There wasn't a day where he wondered if his life would have played out differently had he been stronger-- If the loved ones he lost could have been spared had he trained more intensely. Masaki was very preoccupied with his past whenever he allowed his mind to wonder, and such was why he preferred to keep it occupied with work. Such was probably another reason why he, at a very young age, volunteered to act as High Minister of Otogakure. The main reason was a debt that he owed to the village's current ruler, the Shodai Tennō.

It was for such that he remained a mere Genin, as he felt the policies of the budding Sound Village needed more focus than the acquiring of higher titles.

Besides that, he felt that if there was a time that he needed to prove himself then he would. He wouldn't allow mishaps like the ones in his past to occur. Masaki carried the weight of guilt on his shoulders, and he was clearly a shinobi in how easy it was for him to keep his plagues hidden. For now, the method was a walk. While most found it as an opportunity to give into such thoughts that Masaki was avoiding, he found it as a means of keeping tabs on the village.

He could note any situations needing tending to, and check on the status of their shinobi. It seemed as though the village drew in shinobi seeking sanctuary quite often, and it couldn't hurt to pin names to faces before the population became copious.

“Yo.” He began bluntly and audibly as he laid eyes on an apparent newcomer. Well, as far as he was concerned. She certainly wasn't a Minakami, so her face hadn't rung any bells just yet. “I don't know your name, but are you relatively new to the village? If so, I can probably answer any questions you might have.”

His eyes narrowed a bit in analysis of the shinobi, as if attempting to read into subtle things such as body language. There was a bit of a mental self-reprimanding as soon as he did, however. Such made conversations less comfortable and he was still working on not being socially awkward after taking the succinct wallflower route for years. If he wanted to be any good at public relations, he would have to adjust to conversational mannerisms that didn't put the other party on edge.

“Er, and my apologies if you aren't actually new. I'm still trying to become familiar with the population!”

[Oshiro]

A voice had called out to her, something that hadn't happened yet in the entirety of her stay within the village. Most didn't seem to really bother with one another. Then again, that was probably the side effect of so many people being gathered from so many different places. They all had that common ground but everything else about them would be so different. That much was obvious by the different ways of dress, style, and general look of the people she passed in the underground.

Either way, Momo pushed her rampant thoughts to the back burner of her mind and turned to the male voice that had addressed her. Was it that obvious that she was so new to this place? Perhaps he was part of the higher ups of the village. That would certainly make the most sense. But in response she would idly reach up to grip at the Otogakure headband.

"Uh, well, yes, I am new I guess..." She started, shaking her head at his later apology. "So don't worry about it. I haven't been here long, just long enough to be accepted as a Chuunin here. I haven't really met anyone or gone on missions or anything of that sort."

From what she could tell of the man before her, specifically from the way he dressed, was that if he was indeed a shinobi he must have been part of a more upper class family. Perhaps from one of the families that had been born and raised in Ta no Kuni, unlike a lot of the misfits who had gathered here. It made her wonder of people like him, if her assumption was correct, ever looked down on those that now took residence in his families land. Would the people here be any different than those back in Iwagakure no Sato?

"What about you? What's your story? You look a little too nice to be trudging around in the underground like this." She faltered, briefly, hoping he didn't take that as a direct compliment. A slight tinge of pink hit her cheeks but she cleared her throat and extended a hand as if to brush it all off. "My name is Momo of the Kamizuru. Pleasure to meet you."

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[minakami masaki]

Plebs, the lot of them. It was something he could imagine any of his adoptive relatives saying with a straight face. Most Minakami had no problem isolating themselves from others under the belief that they were royalty-- the chosen of the gods. Masaki couldn't relate to such thoughts. Instead, he always questioned why he was 'chosen' to be amongst the 'gods.'

He had his fair share of failure, and had lost much. The last thing Masaki ever thought was that some higher forces intended to show him favor. He scoffed at the idea, though Shū stumbling upon him so many years ago may have been evidence of such divine intervention.

"What about you? What's your story? You look a little too nice to be trudging around in the underground like this."

“Huh?” Questioned Masaki immediately after Momo had finished introducing herself.

It was odd to him. He was more accustomed to people asking him questions that pertained to their future rather than what occurred in his past. During the first meeting, at least. His eyes faltered just as the girl did, breaking eye contact while allowing his mind to drift off into some nostalgic memory-- But all he could see was the portrait of those he loved burning in a steady flame.

Nostalgia, Masaki found, was often accompanied by woe. He didn't engage in remembering the past often because of that, and he would pull himself away from those very thoughts as he rose his blue hues back into contact with the Kamizuru. A single hand reached up to gently scratch the back of his neck as he chuckled.

“A depressing tale for another time. Just know that I was in your shoes once, as have most of the shinobi of Hidden Sound. We're a family of foreigners.” He smiled faintly, somehow reassured by his own words even if unintentionally. “At any rate, I'm Masaki of the Minakami.”

[Oshiro]

Everyone had their own story, their own sorrows, and their own way with coping with the past. Momo hadn't quite found one for herself yet. The memories were still fresh, very fresh. There was so much uncertainty about her mother, her brother, and the rest of her extended family back in Iwagakure no Sato. Would their treason bring even more shame? Would the rest be put to death? Was leaving really the right thing?

Despite all of those questions Momo couldn't find an answer for them. She simply had to swallow it, stomach it, and live with no regrets. She was alive, and as a shinobi she could only be useful and have a purpose while her heart remained beating. As long as she was useful she would survive and hopefully be able to get back what remnants of a family she had left. If anything, at least Aogi.

"Ahem, so, uh...." She was babbling, she knew, but at least it seemed to be a little awkward for the man as well. "Well, it's nice to meet you Masaki. At least now we all have some place to be with a purpose." It was the best that she could come up with. What else could she say? Like her earlier observations everyone here was indeed a straggler of some kind from another land or nation. Leftovers from an already picked crop. However in situations like that people can flourish.

That's what she kept telling herself anyways.

"So Masaki, I'm assuming you know your way around town decently enough, right? Would you mind, um, maybe showing me around a little?" Again red would tinge her cheeks, even though it would only be for the briefest of seconds. "As a Chuunin I don't want to seem too oblivious, you know?"

The fact that they took her word without a testament to her skill was nice. It meant that despite the ragtag group that they were, there was still some kind of trust and unity as a new nation. Needless to say, so far, despite her confusion and underlying fear, this place was probably the best for her now.

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[minakami masaki]

Her reassuring words brought on a moment where Masaki couldn't help but let a grin surface on his face, one more noticeable than his standard half-smiles. Such soft words could only inspire a sense of kinship even if had only met her a matter of seconds prior. Of course, the sobering thought that pretty much everyone he met seemed to share the same mentality would trigger Masaki's cynicism-- The question being whether their hopes for companionship was more for their own benefit than that of the community around them.

He wouldn't question it, because he still didn't know if that was his own reason. He believed others sought comradery and community to compensate for a fear of loneliness. This belief, however, may have been born from how he viewed his own friendships. Though he would avoid delving into such self-analysis, as picking up the pieces of his fractured persona was almost as frustrating as attempting to access footage of his damaged past. So he, too, would put his faith in the union of vagabonds.

“Is that your wish, then?” The question seemed more rhetorical than anything, as Masaki didn't seem to wait for a subsequent response. “A tour's easy enough. I've got the time to kill if you do!”