Ah morning. Blessed, horrifying morning. The sun was a welcome distraction from the shadows of the night, but in a place like this, it was a double edged sword. With the sun came the incessant burn; beyond just the abrasiveness of the sands constantly blowing across every surface and open space, the sun brought with it a fury that burned even in the shadows; an indirect power that cooked the skin of those that were sensitive to the power; which Haruka was extremely so. The curse of his condition, the sun was forever his worst enemy, even more so than the demons in his mind, and the looming chasm of lost that was his memories before that moment.

Another night of half-sleep; another night of fitful tossing and turning. Another night of terrifying nightmares and silent screams pulling at his throat. Cotton dry mouth, cracked and bleeding lips. Sweat caked in layers between sand and dirt and age. Another long morning in the showers; eyes on him and judgemental; more scars to carry around. He should stop staying in these cheap inns with communal everything; his funds were never much, he didn't want nor need for material things; but the lack of privacy was an issue when you had to deal with judgemental eyes and sharp blades. It was sheer luck he'd made it this long; maybe it was because he was working so early in the morning... even in backwater, cheap, rundown lodgings such as this, those staying more than an hour slept late if they could help it.

Not him, not really. The daytime was danger for him; but the night was no better. No, he was smart to get in and out as fast as possible; but he also needed to be especially careful. he had to check for sores and strange spots; any could spell disaster for him, and he needed to know; so time was wasted, valuable and dangerous to lose, but it had to be done.

A trip, a risk; but needed none the less. He had to go to the market; he needed supplies. He needed to replenish before his time came. Only a few hours remained, he must be ready in time for his meeting. Yes, that was why it was needed; he was going to have to look his best, and he needed to supplies for that.

So to the market he went. Beyond just those supplies, he needed a weapon; not for today, no; not for this village. He needed something for his upcoming trip, yes. There was always a danger investigating strange phenomena, and he would be doing that. He couldn't rely on Samael to protect him; that wouldn't be fair. Carry your weight, or you die; that was the truth of his life. He was trained to use a staff, and while he had his shakujo; that was not a weapon, it was never meant to be one and he refused to defile it as such. He would buy himself a weapon; an offensive staff, something decent enough to suffice until he could get something better. His funds were not that limited, but they would be if he went around buying glorious shiny perfect weapons that would shatter in a moment because they were all for show and not for proper use in battle.

He could live with something battered and bruised and almost broken. It would be perfect, as it would fit him to a 'T'. As such, he was in the Bazaar, he'd avoided this place for the most part, it was too easy to spend a few coin here, a few more there, and suddenly the entire day was gone and his money purse was empty. A dangerous temptation, one he refused to fall to. He knew what he needed, and he went for that, and his other supplies; and nothing more.

To that end, he worked his way around the market; the massive, sprawling maze of back alleys and wide avenues and not a single sign to point you anywhere. He was very quickly hopelessly lost, and that was... well, pretty normal. Ugh. Well... it was looking like he'd need to ask for directions; and while he wasn't the typical macho man that refused to do that on grounds of masculine pride, he was wary of asking anyone anything for sheer safety. Being albino was dangerous enough without people thinking you were cursed, or evil, or because of his red eyes, a demon. Superstitious nonsense. You couldn't tell demonic taint by the eyes, not without knowing what to look for. Red eyes didn't mean anything, beyond color. Given his eyes where the wrong type of red to bullshit being an Uchiha, he just didn't bother.

Glancing around, he realized he was basically boned. Everyone that could offer assistance was too busy being a merchant, and the people passing by either recoiled from him attention, pulled a blade just enough to be seen as a warning, or ignored him entirely.

Ah, the fun of being an outsider, albino, and tiny. A perfect storm to bring fear and hatred upon a person. Lovely.

WC: 870

The mild panic that accompanied large crowed was setting in pretty hard after only a few minutes, but he was doing a decent enough job of keeping it contained. Outside of the refusal to meet the eyes of anyone around him, he was managing to handle the urge to bolt into the open spaces of the desert and cry like a baby was tempered by sheer need to get this done and over with, so dealing was dealt with.

“Hello, Stranger Ghost." ...

Ah shit, that had to be him. There was nothing around that could fit that description but him. Nononononononononono. Maaaaaaaaaaan.

“You look just as lost as me. ... “We should be lost together that way maybe we can find our way with two brains and four eyes. Like a nerdy nerd.”

Wha-... what? He what? The boy was suddenly panicking a bit, a look of sheer terror flashing across his face as he froze in place and looked around like a spooked animal locked into a corner and searching for a path of escape. Yep; that was about right; he already prefered to be anonymous; so having someone calling him out directly? Not comfortable. Taking a moment to inhale deeply, hold it, and release it in a calming, meditative rhythm, "I am... lost, yes." He finally zero'd in on the person speaking to him, finding a specimen of womanhood that made him a little.... jealous, in an odd way. He'd never be that feminine in his life, even with jutsu to augment his already formidable skills and slim form. Damn, he'd be set for later if he looked half that good. "May I be of assistance?"

He wasn't sure how to handle this situation, so he was just going with his normal 'play it safe, try not to anger anyone, move on quickly' techniques.

WC: 313

313 + 870 = 1183

So his entire purpose for being at the market shot right out of his mind when she invaded his space, and even more so when she took his arm and started dragging him along. He had basically nothing to him, barely any weight and almost nothing in his pockets and such. He was barely able to stutter out a "but-but-but...!" before his brain just shut down and his mental process devolved into extraordinarily intense internal screaming. Just pure, unadulterated internal screaming that had he given voice to it would have rocked the foundations of the world.

Oh, he was hearing everything, but he just had zero ways to deal with people of such personality. It was the kind of invasive and instantly comfortable with people that he never was. There was nothing wrong with it, he just didn't have the skills for it. Which was insane, given he was normally extremely charismatic and personable once he'd had a second to get to know someone, or else had instigated the interactions between himself and someone else. "Er... I... I'm not... I'm sorry but... eeeee...." Just stuttering and scared squeaking. Yep.

"Haruka... not ghost..." That was the best he could get out that was any sort of coherent.

WC: 212

212 + 1183 = 1395

Extra Note:

"Er... I ate before I came..." He was starting to get his voice back, slowly but surely; taking the chance to put a bit of space between them when given and running with it, moving a solid meter away to restore some semblance of personal space. With that space, he was able to begin to calm down; his breathing evening out and the sheer terror fading from his expression. "I... am not one invite terror. It is dangerous for me to do so."

Such instant and complete ease; he envied the female for that ability. He was a bit too broken to fake that ability himself; being 'mysterious' and closed off served him better than trying to be open and free and bubbly. Oh, he could be plenty friendly and such when he was comfortable, but this was a tad too fast. "You are from Iwa, you said? I was there a few months ago." He really didn't know what to talk about, or to say, or how to act, or anything, in this situation, and it showed. Wait... wasn't...

"Actually... I need to go in that general direction, honestly. If I am remembering the layout of the market, the weaponsmiths are near the food courts and dry market..."

WC; 211

211 + 1395 = 1606

"Perhaps I misspoke. When I said terror, I meant... attention, toward myself or of myself. To me, that is terror, in many ways. When you are... different, many times you are the target of those that fear the unknown, and equate that with enemy. I strive to blend and erase from sight, so that I may survive to see another sunrise. It suits my needs far more than controlling others." Both philosophies where equally correct; each suited it's owner and that was what mattered to him. He didn't aim to change her mind, nor even attempt to; merely to clarify his own words. A habit; sometimes it helped to disarm dangerous situations, and he rathered it than a physical fight; so he'd come to rely on it even when not expressly needed.

"As I said, I do believe the weaponry dealers are near the food markets; and I do know that the other shops I need to visit are near there." She was moving and bouncing between subjects in a way that made his head hurt a bit; he was finding it hard to follow her logic in any way that worked to his thought process, but he was also aware that there might not even be a sense of logic there, and he was merely trying to divine order from chaos; a situation he'd found himself in before. "I want to say... we need to go west... so my right?" He was guessing wildly; attempting very hard to remember the flash of an image of a map of the market; a maze of stalls and alleys and shops that made his head hurt to think about.

He turned in the direction he'd indicated and began walking; he was almost certain she was going to follow him, so he didn't really wait at all. Given her bubbly and impulsive nature, he'd be more surprised if she didn't follow him, really.

WC: 330

330 + 1606 = 1936

"I've thought about attempting to pick up a bow, yes; but I don't believe I have the physical strength for one. You are close with spears; I actually use staffs and staves, mostly; although I am decent enough with a dagger or kunai. Never was much for anything else, but growing up as I did you stuck to whatever was easiest to acquire and had the most utility. I could pick up a thick stick anywhere in the forest and replace it whenever I wanted; a kunai is an amazing utility knife and everyone has them, ninja and civilian alike." Calm words, a more... easy, conversation; he could keep up with this, and the bit of space between them as they moved was helpful for keeping him quiet.

"In an unrelated, or sort of un related note; you speak of food rather often. Have you tried the curry place... what was it called, Dragon's Tongue? I believe. I did, a few days ago. It was... amazing. They have an almost ramen dish there, I didn't try it but I saw it a few tables away; it was a curry dish, but they where using what looked to be soba (thick, flat buckwheat) noodles. You might be interested in it, if you find the time to wander that way."

The strong hints of spices and such was slowly growing on the winds; he could smell it due to sharp senses and training to detect weak smells and such, it was a very useful skill for someone in his profession. The right path, then. Given the various stalls were transitioning from retailers and shops to craftsmen and such... yeah. Hopefully they were coming in from the right side. Well, if nothing else, he could grab some candied fruits to snack on later on; it wasn't that strange for geisha to have small amounts of sweet treats and such on them, it made for good time with the clients, and that made the Madames happy.

"Are you a fan of spicy foods, or food in general?" Bouncy conversation was bouncy; in relation to topics. Weeeee.~

WC: 360

360 + 1936 = 2296

Fuuton C-B 2000/2000

296 remaining

Okay so since it's been a month since Oomi even logged in, I'mma just call this thread dead and exit.

-Exit-