01 - XX: warm winds. [m]

[matsumoto-kun]

-- mission 001. what's your name?

The objective was identified rather abruptly. The sun was still quite piercing given the late hour; a clear sign of summer. The girls pressed their booklets against their still developing bosoms as they laughed and cheered about the occurrences of the day. They gossiped over what boys they wanted to kiss, and who of them all was the most skilled at applied make up. They were trivial things for now, but something that even Matsumoto had yet to understand, is that some day they would bear some semblance of importance. That's a tale for another day, however. As it had been mentioned, the sun was still very clear. It illuminated itself throughout the streets and alleyways which surrounded the Academy building. Signs of the city's population was evident as various ages and types would saunter past the building in their own attempt to make their way to their next destination. Whether it would be their homes, the grocer, the bookstore, what have you, it was clear that the city was very much bustling with intention.

Outside of this building, however, there was a lot who seemed much less occupied on their destination, than on the destination of others. Ninja by trade, each bore the symbols of their village in various locations across their body. Over the head, over the arm, hanging from their waist, the three boys appeared to be recent graduates of the academy who apparently had time away from their duties. Leaning against the school gates, they would jeer at the young women who would continue to walk by going through the motions previously described. Cursory tips of the fingers would graze the exposed skin of the students who had yet to master much more than basic techniques that might offer any sort of defense. Being outmatched was evident. Being outnumbered was evident. Being overpowered was likely, which might have been why this mission was assigned in the first place.

"Hey baby, let me take you out~"

"C'mon baby, don't be like that~"

"You know, I had a dream where I saw us together~"

A lanky strut would place one thin leg in front of the other as a figure shrouded in ebony approached the scene. Despite having the sun illuminate nearly everything within sight, this person somehow seemed to be consumed by some sort of shadow. However, as their head slowly rose, a flick of the neck would reveal a small, pale face with features resembling that of a corpse. They had a rather memorable strut. One leg moving from heel to toe before gliding along the street in order to close the distance between them and the academy. Soon, all three boys would turn their attention to the incoming shadow. With a face which seemed to express a rather complacent look, the two transformative eyes which peered in their direction would be met with a number of warranted looks. Mouths agape, the boys would crowd together to get a good look at the image coming closer to them. Closer, and closer they came until eventually the trio would have become a quartet.

"Whassup baby?" One of them, likely the leader, would say as he stepped closer to the figure with clear intentions behind his eyes.

SPOILER: Click to show

{mission 001.}What's Your Name?
Rank: D
Description: Some of us just don't have social skills. There's a group of genin outside of the academy that keep hitting on students on their way home. Make sure the students get home safe, some of these kids can be a little 'touchy.'
Restrictions: None.
Rewards: 25 EXP and 500 Ryo.

[matsumoto-kun]

-- mission 001. what's your name?

Ushinawa was not a tall person, by any stretch of the imagination. It might have been an exaggeration to say that he carried a presence with him as well. However, despite his physical shortcomings, there was something about him that had always worked in his advantage during times of combat. Perhaps it was his demeanor. As he stood before this lot of three who had more than a few pounds on him, in addition to a number of centimeters of height hovering over him, he stood unafraid. Granted, the fact that they had mistaken him for a woman might have played a part in that. There was a silence surrounding the situation. As a number of girls began to pour out of the schoolyard, it would catch the attention of the men to whom Matsumoto had approached.

"This chick's weird man." One would announce from the back.

"What the hell do you want?" The leader would prod once more, stuffing his wrists against his sides with a pout.

Perhaps the young man's patience grew too thing, or perhaps he simply felt like starting some sort of conflict. However, before the three of them could really understand what had happened, they would find themselves with their backs against the ground. Writhing in pain during varying intervals, the blood caused from the leader's damaged nose would begin to drip down his shirt as he pulled himself up against the fence. A confused and struggling expression crossed his face, and as his muscles spasmed and jerked in his attempt to use them, he would notice that the assault had yet to cease. Placing his foot directly onto the man's chest, he would force him back to the ground- leaning over in order to get a decent gaze between the two. As their eyes would meet, and the impeccably calm face of the shinobi would have solidified its place in the man's memory, the first words spoken would slip from his mouth.

"If I ever see you here again, expect the same result," He cooned with the voice to match the rest of his body. Shoving his foot once more into the man's chest, Ushinawa would raise his head and give a complete turn as he would ensure the other two, having been incapacitated by still yet unseen means, would begin to gather themselves to a respectable point. "The same goes for you two."

It was a rather rudimentary mission. Roughing up someone who had the potential to rough up others. It was a mission he had been on a number of times before committing to a place where he would actually be paid for it. It was funny, the only real difference between this and his time as a solider was their at least this time someone was paying him for violence. Was it any better? Probably not, but it was at least more acceptable. Instead of a constant call to kill, he would have to work his way up through the occasional chore. Perhaps this was what the council wanted for his rehabilitation. Perhaps if he got a chance to meet with people, and see them for what they were, he would be able to surpass seeing them as mere 'targets.' This of course, would take time.

As he began to depart the scene, two of them girls who had witnessed the bout approached him, their fingers pressed firmly against the books curled against their chests. They were no strangers, the lot having likely seen each other in this exact area a number of times. Whether it was his just being older, or being more advanced in combat, he did not spend much time with them in class, however. Either way, their approach came as a bit of a surprise. Conversation soon led to the discovery of their names, grades, and ambitions upon graduation. Topics discussing hair and clothing were also broached, and while he didn't appear to offer much insight, he was very much interested in listening. This concept of 'friends' would be interesting, so perhaps he would give it a try. Enter Ushinawa's first 'friends:' Yoko and Aoi.

-- mission complete.  

SPOILER: Click to show

{mission 001.}What's Your Name?
Rank: D
Description: Some of us just don't have social skills. There's a group of genin outside of the academy that keep hitting on students on their way home. Make sure the students get home safe, some of these kids can be a little 'touchy.'
Restrictions: None.
Rewards: 25 EXP and 500 Ryo..

[matsumoto-kun]

-- mission 002. friendly intervention!

The door to the building creaked open with the announcement of a new presence. While the gambling den wasn't the most difficult to find, there was still an element of secrecy that the local Yakuza had attempted to convey over their somewhat irreparable behavior. A number of old eyes would turn to lay a glance across the man who entered. He was of a decent age, late twenties to early thirties, and had a small bag beneath his arm. Partially unzipped, and clearly filled to the brim, it was evident that he had gathered a sum of Ryo for the pure purpose of trading it for chips. There was no mistaking it- this man was a desperate gambler. Of course, in a place like this, it was like prime rib in a lion's den. 

The stares were more expressive of desire than danger, and as the men would pretend to get back to their varying games, it was evident that this man had become quite popular within the few moments since his arrival. Various men of varying degrees of scumminess approached him, introducing themselves before offering him drinks and attempting to guide them to their tables. Polite declines would seem to be the most common response as the man hastily made his way to the back of the room. It was spacious, and had varying designs of tigers, ogres, dragons, and other things that would have no mistake as masculine. Loosening his tie, the man would plop his leather bag against the counter which separated him from a small woman with a tired expression on her face. They peered at each other through sturdy steel bars, followed by the spectacles which fit perfectly over the brim of his nose. Their eyes seemed to lock for just long enough to make him uncomfortable before he would shove the money closer towards the gate and look back towards the scores of men who covered the room.

The number of participants was likely somewhere in the the thirties. More than half of them were patrons of the establishment, while a small number were participants of whatever organization ensured that this activity continued behind closed doors. They ranged in size and age, but it was clear who were official members by the unique hairstyles and, likely more evident, the bright red haori which would have the kanji for 'bear' written in gold across the back. The woman behind the counter donned such an outfit. 

The man turned back to look at her, removing a handkerchief from his suit jacket to wipe away the beads of sweat that had begun to make movements down his face. His eyes darted back and forth, and while the heat was likely uncomfortable for him, it appeared that his nerve had begun to betray him. The woman could tell despite their lack of words exchanged.

"You should relax while you're in here," She began, her eyes falling back to the counting of the money he had given her. "They can sniff out suckers based on how nervous they are." She finished definitively. 

SPOILER: Click to show

{mission 002.}Friendly Intervention!
Rank: C
Description: A group of thugs have been terrorizing the village streets at night, making them no longer safe for those who walk during the midnight hour. They've been said to lurk near the market district so starting there is your best bet. Permission to use force is given, but do not underestimate them, they may not be shinobi but they will more than likely be armed. Bring them to justi
Restrictions: None.
Rewards: 50 EXP and 1000 Ryo.

[matsumoto-kun]

-- mission 002. friendly intervention!

The man's face seemed to change under the advice of the woman. She didn't appear to give him much of a mind, but was at least offering him the kind of advice that would help him stay alive under the possession of this amount of money. Straighting his posture, the man's sweaty hands would rub up and down the lapels of his dinner jacket. Clearing his throat, he would lean forward to claim presence within the interaction that had been created. Nodding at her, the two's eyes would meet one last time before she would shove a small tray in front of him- beneath the counter in which she had been working with. One-hundred thousand Ryo worth of chips would shuffle in front of him with a 'swoop.' 

"Thank you." He would say with a nod, straightening his glasses immediately afterwards.

"Have a nice night, sir." She would respond casually, motioning for the man behind him to step forward for a similar service.

What might have been an otherwise friendly night of gambling would eventually deteriorate as the night went on. The man, who clearly had no idea what was going on in the world around him, had found himself with a fortunate outcome by the end. Without much stopping him, his sum of one hundred thousand would accumulate to two hundred, then three, then four, and so on. By four in the morning, he had accumulated nearly five-hundred thousand ryo within the span of four hours. What might have otherwise been quite a haul was slightly different here. Forced into his hands, the chips would be transformed into bills by the same woman who had done the opposite just a few hours before. Of course, aside from the money gifted to the man at the end of each table, as would a number of beverages who's contents included copious amounts of alcohol.

Red faced, and overheated, the man would stumble to the door as his red companions would accompany him to the door with smiles and jeers. It was all quite friendly on the surface, but as the man's newfound friends would send him off into the heart of the slums, they would also be sending him into the pit of, well, bears. His loafers scuttled against the sand, kicking up all sorts of dust behind and around him. Grasping tightly to a number of bag stuffed to the brim with money, he would begin to hum himself a tune to celebrate his victory. Thoughts of his riches crossed his mind. The debts he was ready to pay off slipped into the back of his mind while thoughts of fancy women and a new apartment skipped to the front. Of course, that was before his hot, sweaty stomach felt the cooling caress of a knife's edge.

It was a bit of a shock for him. Without wanting to release his bags, he simply stood there for a moment, staring at the feet of his attacker. Could you blame him? Within his arms were tucked the answers to all of his troubles. The one-hundred thousand ryo he had borrowed from his savings were now five times as much. If he ever had children, their schooling would be paid for. If he ever had a wife, he could buy her a whatever she wanted- at least for a while. These bags were his dreams. However, everyone understands that not all dreams can come true. So as the knife was abruptly yanked from his belly, a trail of blood following across the sand at their feet, he would begin to lose faith and consciousness at the same time. Falling to his knees, the bags would scatter in a number of directions as the man at his front would watch him fall.

"Finders keepers." The husky voice of the attacker would say before kicking the man backwards with a frontal extension of his leg. Letting out a gasp, he would tuck in to himself to begin applying pressure to the wound that had already opened to expose an incredible amount of blood.

"Fat fuck never saw it coming," Another voice would say a few yards behind the attacker. The eruption of laughter would indicate that their number reached a maximum of three men as they began taking respective bags of their own. "Easiest haul we ever did." 

SPOILER: Click to show

{mission 002.}Friendly Intervention!
Rank: C
Description: A group of thugs have been terrorizing the village streets at night, making them no longer safe for those who walk during the midnight hour. They've been said to lurk near the market district so starting there is your best bet. Permission to use force is given, but do not underestimate them, they may not be shinobi but they will more than likely be armed. Bring them to justice.
Restrictions: None.
Rewards: 50 EXP and 1000 Ryo.

[matsumoto-kun]

-- mission 002. friendly intervention!

Removing the balaclava from his head, the assailant would reveal himself to be one of the many members of the Golden Bears club. While they did not sport their signature haori, their faces were evident. Hardened men, they carried themselves with little forgetfulness of what they were- killers. Wiping the blood from his blade against the all black outfit they sported, he would slip the knife into his position beneath the katana strapped to his waist. This would likely be the last thing he would remember before the seething pain of weighted metal crashed into the back of his skull, directly above his medula. It would have been a quick pain, at least, but nonetheless excruciating- not to mention what it would feel like if he ever woke up. Blood would spurt outward in a light spray directly in the eyes of his comrades, who would raise their hands to prevent it from entering their eyes. This action was short lived, of course, both of them turning instantly behind them to witness a figure, barely visible, standing above where their mark had been left to die.

"What the fuck!?" One of them would shout before instantly moving his hands to the tip of his blade's handle.

The other would reach into his shirt to remove a set of brass knuckles with knives protruding form the bottom of each. There was a lull of silence before the one with the katana would move forward in a rushing motion, traveling in a linear manner towards the small framed body. Of course, within the instant this would happen, he would soon find himself against he ground, screaming out in pain as his hands moved to care for whatever had impaled his feet. The last standing hadn't been able to see it either, leaving it to pure luck that his partner had went ahead with the assault before him. Straining his eyes to see, he could make out the scattered makibishi littering the ground in front of him, leaving him with a grim expression. Without the talent of a ninja, he was no doubt left at a disadvantage. 

"Tch!" He would exclaim.

It was evident that without the tools to either fight, or save his comrades, he would take foot and go. Fight or flight was an instinctual ultimatum, and it would appear that fighting was not in question. He would discover, all too soon, that the other option would prove to be just as fatal. The slink of the chain which had knocked the back of his friend's skull in would shoot past his feet in a rush. Skipping into the air he would avoid it taking claim to his knees, to which he considered himself quite fortunate for. However, once the weighted tip was out of sight, it would leave him otherwise impeded from escape. That is, until the faint glimmer of the opposite side of his assailant's Kusarigama would come flickering above him. The blade's sharpness was evident by the reflection of his own eyes, widened with horror, would stare back at him. Almost as if slow motion, he could see his final moments closing. As the blade came closer and closer, and he realized just how helpless he had been all along, there, however, seemed to be a slight moment of peace.

The kama would swing through his neck with a momentum that would only be rivaled by its speed. The man's head would fall from his head and hit the sand beneath him in a splatter which would congeal the sand surrounding him. Covering the entire area with both the blood emitting from his neck, and his disfigured torso, his body would fall into a slump just a few feet away from the head which seemed to stare back at the shadowy figure for a second or two before clearly losing any sign of life. 

The cause of the man's death, the kama, would quickly cease its assault, however. Finding its home within the figure's hand, the blood of the man would splatter backwards, cleaning the blade within the same stroke in which it had killed. Looking down at the man, it would appear that he had already passed away, the blade no doubt poisoned. It was a bit of a shame, but might be fortunate for whomever came across the bags still filled with cash. Of course, this was only a temporary fix to the problem, but as Matsumoto's chain would curl around his belt once more, he would offer the man a quick glimmer of compassion. His eyes having been left wide with the shock of his own death, the genin would lower himself over him. His hair draped to either side of the man as he came very close to his face- searching for any history that the man might have had during his life that had been left within the moments of his death.

He found none.

Moving his fingers over the man's two eyes, he would remove his glasses, fold them, and place them by his side. If he had to die like a dog in the streets, he would at least be found with some morsel of respect. 

-- mission complete. 

SPOILER: Click to show

{mission 002.}Friendly Intervention!
Rank: C
Description: A group of thugs have been terrorizing the village streets at night, making them no longer safe for those who walk during the midnight hour. They've been said to lurk near the market district so starting there is your best bet. Permission to use force is given, but do not underestimate them, they may not be shinobi but they will more than likely be armed. Bring them to justice.
Restrictions: None.
Rewards: 50 EXP and 1000 Ryo.

[rib]

+41 exp

[matsumoto-kun]

-- mission 003. seeds of change, pt. 1. found here.
-- mission 004. crowning a king. found here.
-- mission 005. weeds!

The garden had seen better days. What was once a beautiful trove of floral arrangements and seeded soil was now nothing more than an overgrown bush. The weeds had grown to dominate the flowers which had put up a pitiful excuse for a fight upon the weeds' arrival. The fenced in area spanned a 5x5 meter perimeter. Constructed of considerably sturdy brick walls, the plants would have access to a considerable amount of sunlight. A fountain which had been set up long before the weeds had all but ruined them supplied a constant stream of water into the base of the plants, which would also have appeared to be in the benefit of the still growing weed population. 

The garden was fortunate to be covered by a greenhouse roof, something that almost anyone in Kaze no Kuni knew was a must-have to sustain any sort of life. It had been unkempt, and the sand had begun to pile in carious places, making the corners of the garden without access to the sun, while the weeds had prevented them from access to water. Many of the plants had already perished by the time the young boy had arrived, which meant that the task at hand had already become twofold.

Standing in the doorway between the house and the garden, the old man stood only a few inches above Ushinawa, hovering over his plants with an expression that would show his clear disapproval, he would begin to explain things to his understudy for the day.

"There are few things that have outlasted me, son. I've outlived my wife, my children, my siblings, my clan, and my property, it would seem," He straightened the glasses that hung from the tip of his long nose as he would continue to survey his plants. "One thing, that I would not like to outlast, is the memory of beauty that these plants have bestowed upon me. I do not want to die before I can recall the beauty of this garden."

Turning to the boy who stood diligently astute in his doorway. Ushinawa's expression showed complete dedication, soliciting nothing but the assurance that he was observing the man in every sense of the word. His body, his expression, all came clearly to the young man who's hands had been folded behind his back for a considerable amount of time. In attention, he would nod at the man's behest.

"In one week's time, your garden will be the way that you remember it, sir." 

SPOILER: Click to show

{mission 005.}Weeds!
Rank: D
Description: Mr. Ayabito is the owner of a very profitable Flower Shop... but he has grown old, and his children are dead - he can no longer take care of the garden. Once a week, go to Mr. Ayabito's home in the Western Zone of the village and weed his garden.
Restrictions: None.
Rewards: 25 EXP and 500 Ryo.