Pain is such an interesting subject, the feeling that burrows deep within your skin but stings on the surface. The helplessness of control you have over it until it rises up again, never truly leaving and only lingering below that burning surface. Maigo could tell immensely as he sat clutching his side, a few broken ribs and some moderate bruising on his back as he crashed into the wall. The man's body sat inverted, with his head and shoulders on the ground and his body lightly cemented in the air above him, sitting in the wreckage of a stall's cart of fruit and vegetables. His body stung, his arms clutched as he lightly patted in pain around the area near his stomach, the scene of commotion around him was hardly his concern as he counted... two, no three broken ribs on his right side.

The crowd gathering around was light but growing as the murmurs increased and worried faces onlooked. From the crowd burst forth a shinobi in more traditional Kirigakure armor, an ANBU agent though she didn't wear the markings in general public while Maigo was more dressed to relax. Or would have been relaxing, the mood shifting as his eyes wandered downward but still up towards the sky to see her face burning red in anger, maybe even embarrassment as she stomped her way forward and held a tightened fist to her side. Her shoulders were perked up and it was almost as if she was holding her breath up until the point she shouted,

"90 cm?!"

Her words burst forth in a rage as the semi-circle of onlookers that encompassed the two of them had taken a good two or three feet steps back as she emerged. Maigo rolled to his left side, feeling the tightening of muscle and the slow dull pains mixed in with the incredibly sharp shattered pain at his bones. He tried to hide his smile and chuckle a bit, maybe unsuccessfully as his legs hit the ground and he landed on his butt while staying sat upwards.

"Look! It's just a guess, but a number to be proud of!" Maigo would reassure as he began to stand up, getting to one leg but having kept his eyes off of his comrade. The next thing he knew, she had taken two quick steps towards him, the sound of which drawn out by the crowd's talking and concern as well as the intense pain of several broken ribs as he tried to get to his feet. The punch she would bring following her steps would be just as intense, a huge amount of chakra pressed into landing square into his chest. The strength of which picked the hunched over Maigo off the ground slightly, feeling his sternum crack and the awareness leave his body emptily. Both the wind knocked out of him as well as what felt like his soul before she quickly hopped herself, and delivered a heel kick into Maigo's side and launch him away.

Maybe it was luck that planted the kick into his left side, or maybe she was being considerate? Doubtfully though, as Maigo went flying maybe another thirty feet through the air and landed into a stucco wall not far off, leaving a dent with several cracks and a wounded Maigo laying on the ground and groaning heavily. The groan coming from his stomach and lower lungs as his chest felt in shambles, the body laying almost lifeless with his arms laying out and body totally limp for an instance. Maigo's mind wandering about the chances that he could just play dead and be rid of his misery. Instead, he would place a palm flat on the ground while struggling, almost shaking to get off the ground as his face lifted up and revealed nothing more than a grimace in pain.

His actions would be cut off though, as the flattened palm against the ground would be met with a quick footstep, her foot planting her heel into the back of his hand and pushing it into the ground. Maigo would try to pull his hand away with no real success, every pull seeming to jossle about the broken contents of his ribcage and leaving him in more pain buried under more pain.

"You're right, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be talking about that much less guessing at their size..." Maigo would wince out as if he were out of breath, pulling his hand with his other hand. The girl above him would sigh, shaking her head and releasing his hand, leaving Maigo to quickly retract and pull his hand to his chest, holding it over himself and laying on his back, looking upwards and feeling the pain.

"Whatever, you can handle yourself you oh so powerful jounin..." she would end with a humph and walk off immediately, a space in the crowd clearing before she ventured off back towards the Shinwato and the other shops around there. Maigo would lay for a moment, practicing his breathing and finding out whether or not he'd be able to stand up on his own or not. Also whether he'd be confined to living on the ground there until someone would help him. The crowd that had gathered was murmuring and talking further, the first time that Maigo would notice them staring and watching the spectacle intently but also trying to hide it as if they were all loitering there and minding there own business.

Maigo would lay his head back and exhale in a heavy sigh, not a moment later a very elderly gentleman in traditional robes would come towards him, holding a hand up and asking if he was alright. Maigo would smirk, chuckle even as he spoke up,

"Women, ya know? It's so hard to get them to understand that you're a taken man... I bet you know what I'm talking about?" Maigo would raise an eyebrow at the old man suggestively who went from a curious look to a look of laughter and chuckling. The old man held a hand out towards Maigo to help him up, admonishing him at the same time,

"I have a feeling it wasn't that simple. Rejection hurts but not usually this badly..." the old man's smirk carried as Maigo took his hand, trying to pull him up from the ground with a single arm as his other was too bothered holding himself up with a cane. Maigo held his left hand around his chest, trying to hold himself together, and he groaned heavily as he began to move upwards. Though, instead of standing Maigo would loosen his grip under the pain and fall heavily back to the ground, his back coming to rest against the wall behind him as his body bounced slightly and left him groaning even more loudly as he leaned back and gripped across his chest tighter.

"Thanks for trying to help old man, but I think I just get to sit here and die instead... I definitely need to stop making her so angry..." Maigo would muse as he fell back and let his head rest on the wall looking upwards. The pain in his body was beginning to dull and maintain. He just needed to take a minute, that was all. Catch his breath and get himself ready to get to standing. That's all he needed, stand up, and find a medic. He almost forgot in the instant after falling that the old man was still there listening, almost content on trying to help him up again with his one available arm.


[1284 words]

The fingernails of her right hand would tap, drumming against the hard metal surface of the top of the train cart. The wind whipping through her hair causing the long white strands to flutter and dance in the air behind her even as the trains speed decreased, pulling into its next station. Her knees would draw upwards and together before allowing her ankles to uncross. Pausing her tapping as the train came to a complete stop, her knees would draw to her chest, leaning back a touch against her hands in the process. Her head would tilt back and then to the left as the doors opened allowing the passengers to both enter and leave the platform. Only once the flow of passengers had come to a brief halt with the doors closing would her form seem to slowly drift back into its previous position however the sounds of a commotion would reach her ears just before the wail of the train could drown them out. Signaling its departure from the station. Her form would twist in a quick and almost un-naturally fluid movement as she swung her legs over the side of the train cart before sliding down and pushing from the train landing lightly on the balls of her right foot, landing as she bent into the movement to counter the impact as the train shifted off at speed.  the few stragglers on the platform fanned out away from her as she landed, muttering amongst one another, her clothes rustling and following the movement ruffling in the movement. Though their mutters were clear to her ears she would continue as though it was a simply buzz in the air, for she had heard such mutters and comments in her own village, from people calling her a juvenile for her ‘antics’ or suspicious, for who would aim to cover the majority of their face if there wasn’t something they wanted to hide, or simply admiring either her clothing, her movements, or the pointed noble looking features that made up the right side of her visible features... or something like that.

As quick as she landed her form would right itself once again, finding it easy enough to allow the mutters to pass over her head as thoughts of the Iwagakure no Sato Genin filled it, hoping they were not involved in whatever commotion was being caused. As she set off in the direction of the commotion she would bite down on the subtle pink flesh of her bottom lip, slowly peeling it from betwixt the teeth, a bad habit really, one that weathered small dents into the flesh in the process. Some even called them worrying marks. Though the Genin of her village had been doing well throughout the exams many were still young and acted as such, getting overly excited one way or another as hormones pumped throughout their systems. Anything could happen from taking hostilities from the matches to the streets if something didn't really go their way, on either side or simply being too rowdy with being in a new environment. She could, she wouldn’t allow them to shame the name of Iwagakure no Sato by their actions outside of the matches.  

Her long strides would carry her quickly yet with grace along the walk paths, listening intently to the sounds, yet it would be the angered words that registered within her mind that would pause her for a moment, ‘ninety centimeters?’ her brow would crease for a moment before allowing her head to tilt, drawing her chin upwards some before inhaling deeply, filling her lungs with the various scents as she continued to listen in to the voices. No scents were prominent that she recognized, therefore it suggested that none of her genin were involved yet she would continue, the somewhat loud enough conversation reaching her ears with distaste enough for her to round the corner before propping her form against a wall to watch as many others did. It would seem that a beating was warranted, if she had, in fact, heard correctly and grasped the correct end of the stick.  

Instead of folding her arms she would simply place her hands inside her opposite sleeves, allowing her fingers to lightly grip at her elbows, a way of keeping her hands both concealed and shielded within the wide hemmed sleeves that started midway up her biceps and ended just short of the tips of her ring, middle and index fingers. Her attire comprising of being clad in a body suit made a pitch black in colour, for the most part, being a tight fit to cover her left side from ankle right up to her jawline completely, whereas the right side showed visible flesh of her chest and arm. Yet draped about her form, giving some form of cover to her chest, quite similar to a poncho-ask shawl, and the area from her waist down to her thighs in a diagonal slant, was a lightweight material, its colour that of deep clotted blood, her gloves the same in colour and material. Her right glove just reaching past the bone in her wrist whilst her left hand’s glove had been specially designed to fit snuggly to the deformity of her hand, missing the space for her missing pinky digit all together, instead made as a perfect fit as though a pinky finger had never had a place within a pair of gloves, a subtle padding within to give some form of not only protection to the hand but comfort, whilst reaching up to her elbow, ensuring the flesh of her left hand and arm would be covered as it lapsed over the body suit itself, tucking beneath the wide hemmed sleeves, again a deep clotted blood colour. With a blood clot coloured Obi coiling about her waist, styled at the back as a taiko musubi, nestled within her obi one would find Amai at the front and Tatsu at the back, both seeming like nothing more than simple fans, at a push they might have been considered dancing fans, by the looks of them at least.  Beneath the folds of the draped material to either side of her covered chest, rest her sheathed Ripa tsume blades, one each side with the arched curve of her blades set upwards so that their tips pointed downwards for easy access whilst her kunai sat beneath her bust, all discreetly covered just as her modesty were. Three of her senbon would be nestled into the folds of her drapes, resting against her right shoulder. The other three settled within the high bun of her snow-white hair, the section of hair that would usually be classed as the ‘undercut’ however was left to hang loosely, trailing right the way down her back like a flowing river to brush against her rump whilst some lay over her shoulder to brush her front. The left side of her hair, including the left side of her fringe, would be tightly braided with dull loops entrapped within the braids, attached to said loops a thin veil that would, in turn, be attached to the high collar of her bodysuit, completely covering the left side of her face from view, whilst the right side remained exposed, her cheekbones high enough that she could be considered a regal beauty with the addition of her pointed features and pale flesh, if it was not for the traces of malnutrition set deeply within her, accenting the deep scar that set in a line along her upper and lower lip the material black to match the body suit. Whilst it covered the left side of her face it would also encroach back over the side of her head to also cover her ear and though insipid for an onlooker, with the material so close to her she would see through and hear through with a very little discomfort now. Thin based slipper-like shoes would cover her feet giving little to no sound the ability to flow from her movements, leading her to be somewhat reminiscent of a waithe.  

Watching the commotion subside she would push from the wall merging into the milling crowds to shit closer. The female had quite a hit, and apparently, the broken male struggling to get up was a Jonin? Having intended to walk past and allow the male to reap the product of his actions would only falter when it came to the elderly attempting to help the man up. Her lips would part for a light sigh to pass them before stepping over. Her hands would withdraw from their positions within her sleeves as she stepped over, her scent; sweet, almost sickeningly so, like lilly flowers left in an overly heated room where the resin of a cypress tree smoldered, the scent of long-awaited death of which she held no power of yet the scent itself, whilst it could un-nerve people it could also comfort, at times, would proceed her, notifying the crowd to her presents seeming to move them from her path. As she reached the two men she would turn to address the crowd, “Haven’t you all seen enough violence for the day?” her tone stern, reminiscent of a vice an adult might use to tell children off, stern enough that the onlookers would press a little further away. Turning around to the two men, she would softly place her right hand against the elderly man’s shoulder before speaking. “Please Sir, allow me.” Her heavy accent would sit thickly within her voice, attempting to keep it sweet as a pose to her usual monotone.  Her piercing yellow orbs gaze would flicker from the elderly male to the one grounded, soaking in the sight of him before shifting into a crouch, allowing her head to tilt a touch to the left before speaking, “Well, don’t you look a little roughed up... by the wheeze in your breathing you’ve taken damage to your ribcage. Standing without medical assistance beforehand would be foolish, you’d run the risk of causing further damage to yourself.” Her gaze would remain on the male before her whether the elderly gentlemen and the crowd remained or not.

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word count: 1713.