Kiri City. As usual, a busy place at this time of the day. The streets were crowded, people running about like ants in search of food. The sun beating down, make the scent, or rather, the stench of sweat stand out amongst the dozen of scents of overly baked food, fried fish, 'fresh' fish and clouds of perfume meant to suffocate those around them in a cry of attention. Men hurried to their jobs, women babbled endlessly, kids were crying, ninja were incognito wandering, and beggars were, well, begging. Daily life as it were.

Somewhere in that crowd, a teenager of about 170 cm wandered about, her black hair reflecting the shine of the sun as it draped just slightly over her shoulders, touching the deep purple robes with gold thread she was wearing over her regal body. Chin high, and with a frown that clearly stated she wasn't exactly happy with this situation, Nariko listened to the incessant 'suggestions' of her two chaperones that were obliged to tend to her needs by her father.

That is, if 'tending to her needs' meant pointing out every part of proper etiquette and conduct for a Santaku of her position to be sure that she wasn't disgracing her clan, the Himaru lineage, with improper behaviour. The fact that Nariko had her wings sealed, her proud raven black wings that served as an obvious claim to her pure-blood lineage, in preparation for her travels had already been enough to have her father's face and beady nose flare bright red, eyes bulging, teeth clenching and, if it were only possible, steam escaping through his ears at the very thought she'd move around like a... ugh! disgraceful wingless being. Whatever his ideas were, Nariko was glad most people of Kirigakure didn't constantly eye her for a change.

Not all Himura Santaku were that set on having their wings show, but her father was one of those extremists that demanded pride to be known. As if not flaunting the clan's KKG was desecration. Blasphemy. Treason! Right, right. Yes, dad. No, dad. "I don't care, dad", Nariko's mind usually replied with boredom, rolling her mind's eyes, while keeping up a perfect mask of the obedient daughter raised to be a precious little princess. Nariko-hime. She wasn't even royalty, but her father had mentioned time and time again her lineage did not come this far by putting dignity and pride aside.

And now here she was, making preparations for her road trip with her two chaperones. One she didn't tell her father, lest he explode and blast the area away with whatever jutsu he knew. He'd probably end up creating a jutsu just to tie her at home. A boring, boring life at home. Not exactly what Nariko was dreaming about, and she was glad her mother understood that. In fact, while she liked the luxury her life brought, she wanted to see the world, lick it and, if she liked it, keep it for her to play with. One giant playground to subject to her wiles. A lovely idea, if she said so herself.

Darting through the streets with perfect performance, Nariko-hime's chaperones made sure the people made way for wherever she set feet. As expectations demanded it, she kept her chin high, piercing eyes staring at nothing in particular but the path in front and mouth shut as her servants automatically replied in her stead that 'the lady' was not to be bothered, nor touched.

Ironically, it quite defeated the purpose of her sealing her wings in the first place. Nariko wanted to not be seen for a change. Not being stared at her wings, not being oggled because she was so 'kawaii', not the centre of attention and certainly not be considered a pompous wanna-be royalty. But there was no escaping this, if she wanted her father to believe she was just spending an afternoon shopping. This was the sort of illusion not even her father would be able to snap out - her personal little victory, or so she believed gleefully.

"Narikohime, the shop you requested is nearby", one of her chaperones brought to her attention. "Shall I announce your arrival?"
"What a question... Of course", she huffed irritated. "Unless you want my father to make you clear what your job description holds?"
"Naturally. Forgive me my impudence.", he said with a bow and hurried to open the door for her.

The door open, Nariko threw her gaze over the content of the shop. It was... not bad. Her father might have had a heart attack by the lack of red carpet, stylish decorations of the racks and other silly details Nariko didn't bother to remember. The shop was rather common in appearance. Simple and tidy. Just fine for her.

"My lady?"
"What?"
"Are you sure you w-", the chaperone stopped mid-sentence, halted by Nariko's raised hand. "As you wish."

With slow, reassured steps, Nariko entered the shop, any sound her steps might have made muffled by her robes. She could see the people look at her with mixed emotion, and the shop keeper himself not sure exactly how polite he had to be towards this new customer bearing an air of regal disdain. When her cold violet gaze crossed that of the shop keeper, he quickly decided bowing deeply would be the better option for his business.

"Shopkeeper", she called him, not dropping her masquerade. "I require a few of your goods. You will provide me two decent belt pouches, a cloak and a sturdy futon for the road."
"Of course. I have just what you're seeking.", he said with a big smile, scampering off quickly from rack to rack to gather the requested items.

As obedient as the shopkeeper seemed to be, eager to cash in a good amount of ryo, so envious did the others mutter about Nariko, their words just loud enough  for her to hear them. Yet as she turned her gaze to silence them, all hints of disgusting gossip suddenly made room for a smile and equally submissive bows.

Oh how she tired of this. The urge to flick just a single hand seal into their direction, deprive them of every nonsensical mask they were bearing in pure ignorance, to use their envy against them to drive them on the brink of tears... To share the requiem of agony resonating in her heart, seducing her to be shared with the living puppets of society... Nariko couldn't help but smile wryly.

"My apologies for not waiting my turn, taking the shop keeper's attention away from you.", she shared with the gossipers, giving them a courteous nod.
"Oh, it's alright.", the woman said, feigning a polite smile. "We're still looking around anyway."

That said, the lady turned her back, seemingly returning to her search for whatever goods she was looking for. Nariko wasn't sure if she had to envy or pity the woman. To gossip like that, to not pay attention to every word that left her lips... It had to be liberating, in a sense, to walk the middle line between expressing your thoughts and hiding your true intentions out of ... Misguided righteousness? Spite? Fear? Social expectations?

The idea of splitting open someone's mind and collecting all the secrets and reasons like they were treasures, not dissimilar to taking out the pearl out of a clamped oyster, seemed... tasty. Nariko knew, however, she would not have that opportunity while she remained at home, doctrined by Himura expectations. Even as a ninja of a village she might not exactly be able to do so, leaving her with the unanswered question of "Where then?".

As the shopkeeper returned to show the promised wares, her chaperone stopped him from approaching Nariko, expecting to inspect the quality of the wares first before he would have the 'honour' to show them to her personally.

With a casual, if not disinterested gaze, her chaperone checked the goods and returned to Nariko to whisper she could find much better quality if she would only allow herself more time.

"I'll be the judge of that", she replied firmly, and walked up to the shopkeeper. She took a good look at the merchandise, hearing the merchant gulp nervously, and nodded her acceptance to the salesman. They looked good enough, and in all honesty, she had not the slightest clue what was to be considered quality material anyway. She just wanted her shopping list done so she could enact the next part of her plan - her escape from the clan.

"Please, be so kind as to pack the goods.", she said to the shopkeeper, giving him an endearing smile, then faced the chaperone that had checked them for her. "Rin, pay the man once he's done."
"Naturally, my lady."

Having been given the goods, Nariko and her chaperones walked out, greeting the bright light of the sun. Even though her servants were carrying the small package of goods, the wingless Santaku sighed most of all. With that part of her plan out of the way, she now had to escape her guardians while grabbing hold of her materials. Sure, she could use genjutsu to lull them to sleep, but then there was still the question of where to go, and how to make it seem like she wasn't just running away.

If only something or someone could give her a window of opportunity.


WC: 1593

Of course, things wouldn't be that easy. Nariko couldn't count on the help of a random stranger for her plan to be set into motion. No, if she wanted to escape, she'd have to put her mind into it and create an opportunity herself. And for that, she would have to go to an area that wasn't as crowded. Ditching chaperones wouldn't exactly be wise when everyone was staring at you, she had to find an area where people didn't come as much. Like the downtown area, for example. A place where 'royalty' of her kind would never come in the first place, and which would offer a great opportunity for the less fortunate to take advantage of her being out of her element.

Nariko could already imagine the idea of having her chaperones being harasses, their attention occupied by the no-good, rougher sort of people while she would make herself scarce. Or perhaps she would end up being abducted, ransomed for money, and then, with the use of her genjutsu, escape their clutches unharmed since whatever came after the abduction wasn't really part of her plan anyway. As crazy thoughts flowed into her mind and potential plans were being formed, Nariko allowed herself a little smile. These eventful ideas were just peachy.

Thinking about it, she had heard of a place that was rife with events of this sort. The Siren's Den, said to be run by one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, harboured just about every tool necessary for a butterfly to cause a storm. Strippers, alcohol, poker and more of those temptations were plenty present there and, to be fair, Nariko had always wondered what it looked like inside.

With played unawareness, she gradually lead her entourage to downtown, keeping their mind distracted by chatting their ears off, throwing in the occasional scoff and, in true fashion like her father, sneer and look down upon the world of the less fortunate. Droning on and on as she vented her frustrations about the world around her, she lulled her chaperones into an ignore mode every person would seek refuge to, until she saw the bright lights of the Siren's Den in front of her.

Her chaperones had noticed them too, however, and suddenly turned to face her with a somewhat worried frown.

"Narikohime, may I advice another route? I think we might have taken a wrong turn somewhere."
"What? Why?"
"We seem to have wandered into downtown. There's no saying...", the chaperone cleared his throat as a man passed by and proceeded at a lower tone. "There's no saying what sort of people we might encounter here."
"How absurd. I go wherever it pleases me, and you will accompany me as appropriate. How do you ever expect me to understand what my father despises if I don't even get to see it with my own eyes?"
"But..."
"We don't have to tell my father. Just this once...", she pouted somewhat and put up her best puppy eyes as she rested her hands upon her back to show her innocent side. "Please~?"

Her chaperones looked rather hesitant as there was no saying what Nariko would be up to just to get what she wanted. She could get her father at her side any day of the week, working on his good side by indulging his ego. An advantage her chaperones, mere servants and barely better than your low-grade kugutsu tool in the eyes of her father, did not have. So when they realised their disadvantage, they sighed and bowed to her wiles like the good puppets servants they were.

"It'll be our little secret", she cood happily, pushing open the door of the Siren's Den.


[Exit]
WC: 635 + 1593
Total: 2228

Training: