A shadowed figured slipped past the compound guards, maneuvering through the twisting maze like hallways without a single sound. The figure’s face was hidden behind a white mask that was painted to resemble the joker card one would find in a deck of playing cards. Yet the mask could not hide the pink eyes in its eye slits, nor could it hide the long messy pink hair from peeking out from the white hood. The clothing that covered the figure’s pale skin was dirty and torn, as if the person had been involved in a fight not too long ago.

The person stopped suddenly, to catch their breath. They stood in front of a door and carefully slid it open. The person took of the mask to reveal a worn out girl’s cut up face. Her lip was cut and bleeding a bit and she had some dirt on her face. She set the porcelain mask down in a drawer and slipped off her other clothes. She went to a closet and took out some clean clothes, a white tank top and light gray sweatpants along with some undergarments and white socks. She opened another door to an onsite bathroom. She placed the clothes down and turns on the shower, hot steamy air filling the large room. She stepped inside and rid herself of all the grime and ailments that plagued her. Afterwards she stepped out and tried herself with a fluffy blue towel before getting dressed. She yawned and stepped out of the bathroom, fully clothed and slipped inside a futon, reading to finally get some sleep.
Yet a restful sleep was not in store for our young genin as the door was loudly slid opened by a busty dirty blonde haired maid “Mistress Aimi! Mistress Aimi! Mistress Aimi wake up!”

Aimi was the pink haired girl’s name, she grumbled, spewing colorful words under her breath, and threw a very sharp looking ballpoint pen at the maid who skillfully dodged, completely unnerved by it as if it was a daily occurrence. Under the covers she growled “Leave me alone Rona!”

The maid who was apparently named Rona huffed at her mistress and grabbed the side of the futon, giving it a good hard yank that caused Aimi to be thrown into the air and flipped out, ungracefully hit the floor headfirst. “Mistress you must wake up! You are too meet with your father”

Aimi groaned painfully as her head made contact with the floor, rubbing it to soothe the throbbing pain as she staggered to stand upright “What the f*** was that for you b***?”
Rona glared at her extremely rude young mistress “You know what exactly that was for. Now get up and go meet your father!”

Aimi leaned back and glared hatefully at the maid before grabbing an alarm clock that was behind her and threw it at the maid’s head that dodged. The moment she dodged, Aimi grabbed a pair of black tennis shoes and tied them on, ignoring Rona who was whining about how she should not be wearing her shoes on indoor. She made her way to her father’s study, tying up her hair in a ponytail and putting on her black bandana before entering, not bothering to knock. A middle age man with dark blue that had strands of grey sighed and rubbed the sides of his head “Why must you torture me so?”

Aimi stuffed her hands in her pockets and leaned back"Cause I f***ing can!"

Her father stood straight and slammed his fists onto his desk “What have I told you about using that language?!”

Aimi rolled her eyes and replied sarcastically “That it is improper behavior of a young lady”

He angrily turned red in the face, multiple tik marks appearing on his forehead “Do not take that tone with me young lady!”Aimi, unaffected by the anger her father was displaying just yawned and looked at him bored. He was at lost for words for a few moments till he slammed his hands on his desk. “Damnit Aimi why can’t you be more like your mother and your sisters”
“Because I don’t want to be like them!”

Her father was about to slap her till a hand stopped him. Both father and daughter turned to face who it was and it was…Rona! “How dare you! Unhand me you wrench”
“Sir, you really should stop. Even the neighbors could her you” Rona replied

Aimi’s father took a moment to compose himself and waved Aimi off “Get out of my sight”

She replied by sticking her tongue out at him. She ran to her room and grabbed her satchel and left the compound. Aimi walked the streets, glaring at everything. She was so sick of her father. She doesn’t want to be proper. She wants to be herself. Aimi’s stomach growled loudly, causing those around her to snicker. She glared at them and stopped by a food cart, ordering a few cinnamon rolls. She carried the box with her and continued her stroll munching on a cinnamon roll all the while, beginning to calm down.

Wordcount: 913

Yuuma awoke to another fine day in the village of the hidden leaf. For a second he wondered why he had woken up on his own instead of by alarm, but the curious thought passed quickly as he remembered he had the day off. He had been spending so much time with missions and helping out at Ichiraku Ramen that he hardly had any time to himself anymore. Days off were few and far between, and he cherished every one of them as a chance to learn something new. Yuuma stretched and yawned, sitting up in his futon. He scratched his chin and considered what he might do today.

Yuuma had just recently worked out, so it seemed like a waste to do it again today. He couldn’t go to Ichiruka Ramen, the owner told him to “Go have some fun... That’s an order.” Yuuma smiled as he recalled that one. He wasn’t tasked with a mission, so he couldn’t do that. That left just exploring the village. Thinking back on that list of things he couldn’t do made Yuuma realize just how much he had already accomplished in his short time here in Konoha. He had improved quite a bit, and honestly he wouldn’t be surprised if he had a chance for promotion next time the chuunin selection exams rolled around.

With the thought of achieving a higher rank on his mind, Yuuma hopped out of bed. A quick look in the mirror revealed he had quite a bit of work to do before he was ready head out into public. He started by brushing his teeth, a vitally important part of any morning routine. He then moved on to a shave to clean up any patches of light stubble that may have cropped up overnight. After a shower he gave his hair a trim and a comb to keep it neat and styled to his liking. He then put on his some antiperspirant deodorant (being a ninja is hard work), and a spritz or two of some subtle cologne. He donned his trademark outfit, taking care to ensure it was spotless and undamaged. He wore a pair of black  pants with a white dress shirt, as well as a white apron and a black vest. Around his neck was a black bow tie. Now prepared to take on whatever the day had in store for him, he set out into the village.

Yuuma’s first order of business was breakfast. His initial thought was Ichiraku Ramen, but he had already been there so many times. It was past time he tried something new. Unfortunately he had no idea what to try, so he just headed out toward the market district. That seemed like the best bet to him. On his way to the market district he caught sight of a familiar face. He was a teenager, somewhere between 13 and 15. Short and skinny, with an acrobatic looking body and devious look in his eyes. Yuuma didn’t know the young man’s name, but he did have something to call him by. ”Dine and Dasher!" He called out it with a smile, waving for the teen’s attention.

The kid jolted in surprise and looked in Yuuma’s direction. As soon as their gaze met the kid’s eyes widened like dinnerplates. ”Oh man..." he muttered, body tensing as if he’d bolt away any second. ”Dude I-I payed what I owed, alright? I-I swear i’m not thieving anymore. I-”

Yuuma raised his hand, stopping whatever further pleads of innocence the kid had. ”Don’t worry, it’s all water under the bridge.” he assured him, trying to make the kid more comfortable. ”So! What’s your name, chief?”

”Uh... My name?” The kid repeated, confused about the request..

”Yeah, your name! I can’t exactly go around calling you 'Dine and Dasher’ forever, can I?” That got a nervous chuckle out the young man but nothing else. Yuuma smiled and shook his head. ”I guess I’ll just have to call you Double D until i learn otherwise." Double D laughed, which Yuuma took as a sign that he was finally breaking through his apprehensiveness a bit. The two of them chatted, and eventually Yuuma was able to get Double D to be able to speak comfortably with him. The boy shared some interesting information about a thieves guild operating in the village, though he denied having any ties to it and didn’t have any specific information.

After a bit more talking Yuuma’s stomach growled, signaling that it was time for him to go. ”Hey, you know anywhere good to eat around here? “ He asked he new acquaintance. ”I’m pretty starving.”

Double D scratched his chin in thought, then said “There’s actually a pretty nice place down the street from here. They’re, like, never watching their tip jar.” Yuuma raised an eyebrow and gave Double D an incredulous look. ”And, uh... they’ve got nice churros too.” The young teen added with a nervous smile.

Yuuma laughed and nodded. ”That sounds great.” He replied, giving his conversation partner a parting wave. ”I’ll see you around, Double D.”

”Later Yuuma”

It didn’t take much time to reach the stand Double D was talking about. Yuuma surveyed the menu, seeing a multitude of appetizing sounding bites. Eventually, however, he decided to go with the earlier recommendation, and walked away from the stand with a box of churros. He munched on churros and wandered around the streets aimlessly, looking for something interesting. As he walked, he noticed a pink-haired girl wandering around in a similar way, eating from a box of cinnamon rolls. Curious, Yuuma approached the girl. ”You have great taste.” He began, getting her attention and motioning toward the box in her hand. ”Care to make a trade?" he asked, offering her some churros from his own box.

Wordcount: 998

As Aimi munched on her cinnamon roll, she thought about her relations with her family. Although she wasn’t on good terms with her father…well that was about it. Frankly, she couldn’t remember the last time her father smiled at her. She couldn’t remember the last time they had a decent conversation at all. Heck he didn’t even show up when she graduated the academy and begin her life at the academy. No they only time they saw each other was when she trained her kekkei genkai at the training grounds within the compound or when he called to talk to her about how she should quit being a ninja and just work one of the family’s shops, preferably the fabrics store where they made sold fabric as well as attire for all sorts of occasions alongside her mother. However Aimi didn’t want that, she never did. No matter how many lessons on etiquette she was taught or how many times he threatened her position as clan heiress, she just wouldn’t shape up. She believed she was perfectly fine the way she was. Besides being a ‘lady’ was boring and a waste of her life. She had better things to do than arrange flowers or participate in tea ceremonies. Aimi fondly remembered how one time she stirred the tea so hard the bowl broke and the tea splashed onto this other clan heir’s face, getting him as well as her father infuriated.

Thinking back now, Aimi hardly knew a thing about her mother. They never spoke unless it was a family dinner or a formal meeting with the other clan heads and even then it was a few solemn words. Her mother…was colder than ice. She always had a blank look and barely spoke. When she did speak, it was to the point and cutthroat. Huh, no wonder she got along with her father. The two of them were so alike; both of them were harsher than the blazing sun in Suna and were as bounded to tradition as prisoners are to their crimes. Neither of them would ever change their ways and were so adamant about getting what they want. Aimi inwardly winced as she remembers how many times she was beaten with a cane as a child by her mother. She never understood the woman. In all the books she read, weren’t mothers supposed to be kind and warm. She had seen all the other kids get along great with their mothers. Their mothers were caring and loving, two things hers wasn’t, at least not to her.

Her young siblings were what their parents believed to be ‘the perfect daughters’. They were polite, kind, and carried themselves in every way that they should. They never ‘dishonored’ the clan like she has and was always surrounded by admirers. They may be young but they had this air about them that always attracted people to them. What’s more was that they weren’t interested in the ninja arts like she was. No mind you Aimi loved her sisters dearly. Yet she couldn’t help but envy how carefree they can be. Aimi would protect and love them forever and always though her family or anyone else couldn’t see it.

Aimi watched as a pair of children run past her, the two of them gleefully laughing. She smiled though one couldn’t see it and she was munching on a cinnamon roll. Speaking of people, one just spoke to her. She had great taste? Well no duh. She ate the last bit of her food and wiped her mouth, holding the box with her other hand. “Ha, thanks” She smirked at the boy and eyed him up and down. She didn’t recognize him and he was speaking to her without fear. Huh, well this she found amusing. She made a mental note he smelled like spices and cologne. She figured it had something to do with the apron he was wearing. Was he some waiter or something and was heading to work. Didn’t seem like it. He didn’t appear to be one if you got past his attire. She also noted he had a box of food as well, churros it seemed like it. She chuckled “Sure, half of my box for half of yours sound good apron boy?”

Aimi twirled the box of cinnamon rolls in one and glanced at a tea house just a few feet away from the two. It wasn’t really busy, just a few customers, both young and old and a very nervous waiter attending to them. She had been to the tea shop once or twice and had never seen him before as well. Was it new people day or something? The kid (he look a few years younger than her) looked a lot like the owner of the place. Was he the nephew or something? He couldn’t possibly be the son. The owner’s kid left Konoha a long time ago to set up a new branch in Kiri. Something up that place was too gloomy and needed new life. Aimi walked towards it and sat She turned back to the apron boy and gestured for him to take a seat as well “What’s your game apron boy?” she glared at him suspiciously, her mood having quickly changed.“You some friend of Takeru or something?” Takeru was this pain in her side since as long as she could remember and it wouldn’t be the first time he sent someone to mess with her. She wouldn’t pound the boy though if he was, she was still sore from last night’s rumble. Some guys decided to be ballsy and jump a few travelers last night. Aimi happened to be nearby and intervened though she swiped some mask from a street vendor so it would be traced back to her.

Wordcount:1007

The pink-haired girl seemed to have been lost in thought in thought when Yuuma addressed her. She had a cinnamon roll in her hands and opted to finish it off and clean herself up before responding with a smile and a thank you. She gave Yuuma the once-over, something Yuuma could easily identify because he had plenty of experience with it. During his years of traveling, he would always be given a cursory up-and-down inspection of his person when trying to get into a new city or a fancy club. It taught him about attention to detail and the importance of presentation. Because it was such a common part of his life, Yuuma ended up adopting it himself. He got pretty good at being able to tell a little about a person by their appearance, and he could usually tell what conclusions people were drawing about him as well. Usually people assumed he was in the service industry as a waiter or a busboy. This assumption was fine with Yuuma, as he took his oath of service very seriously, and to him being a waiter or busboy was as noble a profession as being a shinobi.

As for the girl, she was wearing a baggy sweater and had several piercings. Yuuma’s immediate thoughts just from a quick look was that she was rebellious. She was wearing her forehead protector proudly on her person, but it was tied loosely around her neck, going agaisnt tradition. That supported the the rebellious idea. Yuuma couldn’t tell whether her hair and eyes were legitimately pink or if the girl used dye and colored contacts. Her hair seemed to be natural at least, the roots were as pink as the rest of it. Her eyes were tougher to tell, so Yuuma just assumed they were real for the time being. The girl seemed nice enough, but it was difficult to tell, without at least a few minutes of talking with someone, what they were really about. The once-over was just enough to get general feeling.

The girl gave a small chuckle at Yuuma’s request, but she did agree to share their treats. “Apron boy,” she called him. Yuuma couldn’t help but laugh. "Sounds good to me, bubblegum." He countered. The girl’s attention suddenly seemed drawn to a nearby teahouse. Turning to check it out, all Yuuma really noticed was that it was relatively empty and that the young waiter serving was quite inexperienced. The girl made her way over to the tea house and took a seat at one of the tables, motioning for Yuuma to join her. As he walked over and sat down, placing his box of churros on the table, a strange shift in the girl’s mood seemed to take place. She challenged him suspiciously, asking if he was friends with someone named “Takeru.” The shift in tone took Yuuma by surprise, but he supposed it was natural that she would be somewhat distrustful. He was just some random guy who came up to her on the street, after all. For all she knew, someone could have put him up to it.

This only raised further questions, however. Why would someone ask him to bother her now? What would they have to gain? Who exactly was “Takeru” in relationship to this girl? Most importantly, who was this girl in the first place? So many burning questions, and Yuuma was now determined to find the answers. Curiosity had taken hold of him, and this was an enigma he was going to crack. He decided to start by answering her own questions first. ”No games, Just cinnamon rolls. He replied in a matter-of-factly tone. ”Sorry, but I don’t know who your Takeru friend is either.”  He pulled one of the cinnamon rolls from the girl’s box and took a bite, savoring the sweet flavor and texture. ”Mmm...” he muttered, ”I’ve got to make these some time... That’s a... Buttermilk based dough... a dash of vanilla and... nutmeg?” He zoned out for a moment, running through the recipe in his head. He would definitely being trying it out sometime later.

Yuuma shook his head, remembering that he was in the middle of something. He returned his attention to the pink haired girl. ”Sorry about that,” said, somewhat embarrassed. ”I, uh... I do a lot of cooking. Now where were we?"

Word Count: 742

Aimi eyed the browned haired apron boy carefully, wondering if he was trying to be slick; yet was unable to find a hint of deceit in his words, though by the subtle widening of his brown eyes, it seemed like he was interested. Ok so he may not know of Takeru, but he was thinking of him. Perhaps he heard the jerk’s name before or seen him sometime, though he honestly looked like he never heard about him before. And it should stay that way she thought. Though Aimi didn’t really care that much, she guessed she still had some adrenaline coursing through her veins from her argument with her father. She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other and propping her right elbow on the edge of the wooden table resting her head on the palm of her hand. “Tch, guess you aren’t. You don’t look dumb enough to be one of Takeru’s goons or anyone’s for that matter.” She paused to let her words sink in before she continued “You aren’t a civilian aren’t you. I may not see a forehead protector on you but you’re clothes aren’t normal. They look nice and all, especially since the fabric looks durable and don’t question me on fabric, I know a lot about it…unfortunately” The last part she had said under her breath, a hint of annoyance in it.

Aimi leaned over and plucked one of the churros from the boy’s box, enjoying how warm it was and noted the soft crunch it had. It had plenty of sugar, not sure whether it was regular white, cane, or brown sugar. The sugar must’ve been caramelized to give it the soft crunch. A few crumbs got on her face but were dealt with a wipe of her hand. It was good, though second to her cinnamon rolls. Ok that may be a bit biased but cinnamon rolls were one of her favorite desserts.
She smirked as she was entertained by the display the boy was putting on. He seemed to zone out on her and was mumbling on the recipe of the cinnamon rolls. It wasn’t till a moment later when he snapped out of it, looking a little sheepish but still smiling. He apologized and mentioned he did some cooking. Well no duh, but she didn’t voice her thoughts. Instead she gave him a dismissive wave of her free hand, showing she didn’t mind. “It’s fine, not like we were talking about something or will we. Name’s Aimi of the Kumori clan. What about you? Can’t keep on calling you apron boy all day now can I?”

Aimi suddenly felt parched. She turned her head and yelled out “Hey newbie, get your sorry scrawny butt over here”

The ‘scrawny’ boy yelped and scurried over to where the two teens were seated. He looked at the girl and yelped at fearsome look in her eyes, just being in front of her he felt like he was under a microscope. “Y-yes? H-how may I-I-um I uh help you?”

Aimi decided to mess with him some more and gave him a toothy grin which had sent the boy into a frenzy of silent panic (if you get past the mumbling and the whimpering) “You were looking at me funny. Huh do I look funny to you? Some sort of clown? How about I get a horn and shove it down your throat” This became too much for the boy and he yelped like a little girl and fainted. “Tch, wuss” Aimi sneered.

Another waiter came to replace him not too long after, looking at the fainted boy with displeasure and even gave him a light kick in the side “Gah, this is the fifth time he fainted and it hasn’t even reach past noon” The waiter was a friend of Aimi, green haired with strange purple eyes and piercing on his ears like hers. “Sorry about that Mimi, you know how the babies are. Anyway, what can I get ya?”

“So the old man finally getting tired of you and is going so far as to take on pity parties” Aimi teased. She took another bite of the churro and swallowed it after giving it a good chew “Get me some French vanilla coffee, with extra cream”

The green haired boy sighed and rubbed his temples “How many time have I told you we are a tea shop?”

It was meant to be a rhetorical questione but Aimi answered seriously “In all the time we’ve know each other, exactly 12,346 times as of yesterday”

“And?”

“And”

They had a stare down for about five minutes till he sweat dropped and blinked a few time. He sighed in defeat “Fine I’ll get you your damn coffee” he looked at the boy besides her and eyed him up and down like Aimi previously had “And what do you want?”


Wordcount: 894

The girl trained a suspicious eye on Yuuma. It seemed she was deciding on whether to believe his claim or not. She didn’t trust easily, this girl. It was a good trait to have in this shinobi world of deceit and lies, but it was one that Yuuma did not share. As a member of the Culinary Institute of Amegakure, he had taken a vow to feed those in need whenever they asked, and thanks to this attitude he found himself spending a lot of time with strangers. Generally speaking he treated people with trust until they did something personally to remove that trust, a dangerous sentiment to have in his line of work. It had already led to some bad situations, mostly just with would-be muggers. They didn’t pose much of a threat, however. Even a genin was more than a match for some untrained thug, and Yuuma’s CIA sensei, Itamae, was extremely talented. It was funny: Even as the jounin rendered the assaulters unconcious, he still always left them with a little money.

The first time Itamae left money for a mugger, Yuuma was taken aback. ”Why would you give him anything? the boy asked angrily. ”He was a liar, and a thief! He doesn’t deserve anything!” Itamae looked at the boy sadly, as if disappointed by his statement.

”You say he deserves nothing?” Itamae inquired, ”Perhaps ‘nothing’ is exactly what this man has.” He motioned toward the unconscious mugger. ”Look at his clothes.” Yuuma obliged, seeing a set of torn, stained, and overall ragged clothes. He wrinkled his nose in disgust but said nothing, allowing his sensei to continue. ”Remember this, Yuuma: No one takes action without reason. Their reasons may not be the best, and sometimes they may not even know the reasons themselves, but there is always a reason. Everyone lives their lives making decisions as best as they can, and sometimes people may find themselves in positions where they feel they have no other options than to take an action they do not wish to take. Try to keep these things in mind before you judge, Yuuma. Now look at this man again and tell me what you see.” Yuuma looked again, and instead of a violent mugger he saw a desperate homeless man willing do anything to survive. It was the same person, but knowing what Yuuma did now allowed him to see things from the man’s perspective. That was a powerful experience for Yuuma. It stuck with him throughout his travels, and he utilized it often. Any time he felt distrustful of someone he didn’t know well, or anytime he judged a person’s actions harshly, he tried to remember what Itamae had taught him.

The pink haired girl seemed to be mulling over whether or not to trust Yuuma. Yuuma hoped his words would assure her, and after a few moments it seemed his hopes were realized. She leaned back into her chair and relaxed, claiming Yuuma looked too smart to be someone’s goon. She continued to make her deductions about him out loud, very astutely pegging him as a ninja even without his forehead protector. She was observant enough to notice the uniqueness of his otufit’s material. She was somewhat resentful for her knowledge of fabrics, however. Yuuma chalked this up to her rebellious attitude. Her mother, or some other figure, may have forced her to learn about clothes as a child and she hated it. That seemed a bit old-fashioned, however. This girl must have been part of an old family.

She pulled one of Yuuma’s churros from its box and ate it, seeming to find the flavor pleasing. She simply waved off Yuuma’s apologies when he spaced out over the cinnamon bun, preferring to move on to a different topic. She introduced herself as Aimi Kumori, then solicited a response from Yuuma. Yuuma didn't really recognize the clan name off the top of his head, so he took a mental note to try and learn more about them later. ”Yuuma Tsuji,” he stated with a short bow of his head. ”I’m a ninja, as you so astutely guessed. I claim no clan, but I am a member of the Culinary Institute of Amegakure.”

Once Yuuma had introduced himself, Aimi hailed the young server Yuuma had noticed earlier. She jokingly hassled the poor boy, giving him a hard time and eventually pushing him over his tolerance for fear.  He squealed and passed out, and Yuuma wanted to bury his head in his hand with embarrassment. Aimi called the boy a wuss, though she obviously garnered enjoyment from the whole exchange. Yuuma raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He wasn’t impressed by the display, and couldn’t help but feel sorry for the new waiter. The next waiter to show up seemed to be friend of Aimi’s. His hair was green, and his eyes were a strange shade of purple. He, like Aimi, had ears full of piercings. When he arrived he commented on his predecessor’s knack for fainting, giving him a playful kick in the side. She then asked for Aimi’s order, calling her “mimi.” When Aimi ordered a coffee the two seemed to lock themselves in a battle of wills, staring each other down trying to get the other to concede. The contest lasted an uncomfortable amount of time. Yuuma was amazed at the stubbornness both combatants showed.Eventually, however, Aimi won out, the waiter agreeing to get her coffee. The boy then moved on Yuuma, asking for his order.

”Jasmine tea, please.” Yuuma replied, though he was tempted to ask for a coffee as well. Yuuma then smiled at Aimi and spoke. ”So, do you always harrass your waiters, or did this guy just seem like a particularly inviting prospect?" He motioned toward the fainted young server. "I only ask because I work at a ramen joint here in town, and I wouldn’t want to invite you if you’re going to make me pass out in a mop bucket.”

Word Count: 1022

Amegakure huh? What's he doing here being such a long way from home? He might be a nuke-nin or ronin or something. Aimi looked at Yuma questionably, she was about to ask but was interrupted by her friend. "Ok so French Vanilla coffee with extra cream and Jasmine Tea. I'll bring your orders in a minute okay you guys. Oh and the names Nobu by the way" Nobu wrote the order down and stuffed his notepad into his pocket before grabbing ahold of the fainted boy and throwing him over his shoulder. The two of them disappeared behind the counter.

Aimi watched them go and when they were no longer in sight, she strength her arms a bit, feeling a bit tired since she didn't really sleep much. She turned back to Yuuma who seemed embarrassed about the whole ordeal. "Eh I don't do it often really. It wasn't cause I didn't like the kid or anything. I just did it on a whim" She chuckled, grinning. She really did it on a whim, she tends to act and not think. Sometimes there are reasons behind her actions, other there aren't. She doesn't really start trouble; other people are usually the ones who provoke it. Though she does have a short fuse so if she feels offended, she won't hesitate to retaliate. "And you work there at that old place? How come? Did you piss off the old geezer or something? He is a pretty cool guy as long as you don't push his buttons or bad mouth his food. I remember when I did and he made me scrub the whole damn place down and do errands for him for a week just because I got a bit snarky to him and his daughter"

Aimi fondly remember when they first met when she was around twelve years old. She had gone there and was in a bad mood. The owner's daughter didn't enjoy Aimi's presence that much because of all the rumors she heard. The girl usually was really sweet and wouldn't hurt a fly but she was afraid of Aimi as were the other customers there. When a few customers left when they saw Aimi, she kindly asked her to leave. Aimi however to a lot of offence to that and got into a heated argument with her. The owner got annoyed with both his daughter and Aimi, though more towards Aimi who dissed the food and even broke a things. He somehow got Aimi along with his daughter to apologize to each other and had Aimi pay for what she broke by having her clean the place and do a few errands, though oddly enough they warmed up to each other during that week.

Aimi broke out of her short flashback and blinked a few times, her contacts were hurting her eyes a bit. Guess I need to buy a new pair one of these days she mused. She rubbed her eyes a bit before turning her attention back to Yumma. "What's Ame like? Heard it's pretty different from Konoha. Which reminds me, are you visiting someone here? Friend, family, lover? If you are I may be able to help you find them. It wouldn't be a problem at all"

She watched as people walked by the tea shop, going about there daily lives. There were civilian families doing shopping, a few kids running around playing ninja, and a shinobi or two heading to the MDO or Mission Disposal Office. One of the children who was running by waved at her, it was one of her cousins. He was about nine years old and went to a civilian school. She smiled and waved back to him, which was eagerly returned before he went back to his friends. As more people passed by, she wondered if Yuuma was here for business or was apart of an exchange program. He looked like an okay guy but you can't say you've read a book if you haven't gotten past the first page.

Just then Nobu returned with their drinks, he didn't stay for long after he set them down because he had to attend to another table. Aimi took her drink and sipped it, enjoying the burning hot liquid go down her throat.

Wordcount: 751

The girl seemed to look quizzically at Yuuma when he explained his affiliation with the CIA. He was used to people assuming the Amegakure in the name meant he was from there, it was a logical thing to think. The green-haired waiter repeated the orders to ensure he had them written correctly then stowed his notebook. With surprising ease he lifted up his fainted predecessor from the floor, flinging him over his shoulder in a way that made Yuuma think he must have done it a few times before. That poor kid probably wont make it as a waiter unless he learns to deal with people. Yuuma mused as he viewed Aimi’s friend take the boy into the back.

Once Yuuma voiced his concerns, Aimi responded saying she had simply acted on a whim, not out of malice. That made Yuuma feel a little better. He wasn’t a big fan of people who liked to see others suffer, but it looked like this girl just had a very lively sense of humor and an easily bored mind. In response to Yuuma’s comment about Ichiraku Ramen she revealed that she had also angered the owner and incurred a debt of servitude to him. Yuuma smiled, glad to see he wasn’t the only person to end up in that situation. From what he was hearing it seemed this girl had a knack for getting herself into trouble with her attitude, which Yuuma could definitely believe. She spoke her mind and didn’t care who heard. Yuuma respected the girl’s determination, though he preferred to act with a little bit more subtlety and respect.

Aimi’s comment did bring up an interesting point, however: The owner’s daughter. As much as he worked with the old man, he had never seen the girl. In fact, Yuuma couldn’t even remember a time when the man mentioned her, even in passing. The idea bugged Yuuma, though he couldn’t exactly place why. Yuuma supposed it was probably just a case of the subject never coming up and therefore never being discussed. He saw no reason for why the owner would need to conceal the information. Yuuma made note of the thought and then focused back on the conversation. There was nothing to gain from dwelling on something one couldn’t control.

The pink haired girl then asked the question Yuuma had been expecting: Yuuma’s relationship with Amegakure and what he was doing here. ”What is Amegakure like?” Yuuma repeated wistfully, ”I would imagine it is quite nice, but unfortunately I’ve never been. The CIA Main Headquarters was leveled... Destroyed by the shichiouza years ago. We still have some HQ’s scattered around the countries, but the destruction of our main HQ took a huge toll on the group. We’ve never really fully recovered.” Yuuma had a serious tone and a somewhat sorrowful look on his his. He realized he was probably bumming his companion out, so he smiled. ”Anyways... I do plan to visit the ruins at some point in my career, but it’s no small feat to travel that way. As for what i'm doing here, this is my home." He pulled the konoha headband from a pocket, revealing to Aimi. ”I’m a genin, technically fresh from academy graduation. I left to train with my culinary sensei about 6 years ago, right before I graduated. Now I’m back to continue my training shinobi, and luckily they let me pick up where I left off rather than starting me over. I made genin shortly after I arrived”

Aimi seemed to be listening while studying her surroundings. Yuuma couldn’t tell if she was observant or just easily distracted, but she seemed to have a lot of friends. She smiled and waved to a young boy, under ten years old, as if she knew him. Aimi’s friend suddenly returned with the two drinks, Yuuma’s jasmine tea and Aimi’s french vanilla coffee. Yuuma couldn’t help but smile seeing the fruits of the girl’s stubborn labor. She sipped on her prize slowly, seeming to approve of the taste. Yuuma’s own tea was quite good, he had to admit. His old sensei’s jasmine tea couldn’t be beat, however. Yuuma had never been able to perfect the man’s recipe, which frustrated the young genin to no end. Itamae was very proud of his tea. It was the jounin’s specialty. He could make a perfect tea for any occasion, always tweaking and perfecting his craft. Jasmine tea was his magnum opus. He always said that there were few things in the world that just fit perfectly, and for Itamae it was his Jasmine Tea. It was strange, this was the second time in this conversation Yuuma ‘s mind had wandered to his sensei. Perhaps he missed Itamae a little more than he had originally thought.

After taking a sip, Yuuma decided to ask Aimi some questions of his own. ”So I’ve told you a little about me," He began, ”So how about a little about you? What is your family like? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” Yuuma was curious about the girls background as well as her clan. He had never heard of their family name and he was always up for learning new things, especially about people.

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To say that Aimi was shocked was an understatement, she honestly did not expect that. Damn now I feel a bit bad for the dude. That's rough and by the sounds of it, it seems like he was there...or at least sometime during the aftermath. I...I wonder if he lost someone Many more such thoughts raced through Aimi's mind however she didn't show it; her face remained casual, as if she heard similar tales of woe before (which she has but that isn't the point). She took a chuck out of another cinnamon roll and dunked it into the coffee before popping it into her mouth. She subtly nudged the box closer to Yuuma, silently offering if he wanted any more and if so, he was welcomed to do so. As he continued to speak, he mentioned that more bases. She was glad when she heard the lad's group had other places so not everyone was annihilated as such things are tough to deal with.

Now that I think about it, where's his sensei. If he was off training in another village surly his parents, if he has any, wouldn't let him go off on his own without some sort of guidance. Perhaps...he is no longer with us. I..think that's the situation, but I could be entirely wrong and his sensei is around here or off on his own. What kind of man was he? Yet the one thing she can't help but speculate about is just...why? Why was this CIA group's base in Amegakure obliterated? Just what have they done or could've done? Aimi was never one really to care for organizations and what not as she prefers not to get involve in the hassle of those things, at least not any more.

When he stopped speaking, the air about them got thicker; awkward really. Yumma noticed this and smiled however it looked a bit pain. The attack must've been recent. Perhaps a couple months or so. A year or two maybe? Wonder if there have been more attacks. She looked down to the left, not meeting his eyes and rubbed the back of her neck. Damnit she didn't know what to say. She does do...comfort so she is a bit out of her element. "Ah well you have my condolences. You still in mourning for your fallen?" Fuck smooth Aimi, real smooth. But argh I don't know what to say. Maa I do want to know though. Fuck might as well ask since we're on the topic "Did you um lose you sensei.....not that it's my business...." Well Kami knows I will never make it as a therapists.

Aimi was so so very much glad he changed to the tune to a lighter note when he pulled out a konoha headband out some pocket. "Six years huh" she whistled impressed. "Must've been quite the experience to get out and see what else this world of ours can offer outside the confines of the ancient walls of ours illustrious little hidden village. It's good they didn't make you start over; that would've been so as a Nara says "troublesome" haha" Aimi laughed at her own little choke and tore off another chuck of the same cinnamon roll and nibbled on it a bit before washing it down with some much of her coffee.

"Tell me, what other villages have you've been to besides Amegakure?" she asked with genuine interest. She hasn't really gotten far from the village except for one time when she was on vacation and left for Suna which was as she quoted "The son of the devil's freaking sandbox" as the heat there was absolutely ridiculous. She always wondered how on earth anyone could tolerate it. It got even more weird at night when it suddenly got freaking cold. Honestly one minutes it feels like the Sun is frying your brain, the next, it feels like you went up to the highest mountain naked during winter. She shivered uncomfortably at her thought.

Aimi blew a stray strand of her cotton candy pink hair out of her eyes and retightened her bandana as Yumma asked about her. Ah so he wants to know about me huh. Eh fair enough. She churned the light brown colored coffee filled cup in her hand, the cream though barely existent, made thin swirls. She leaned back onto the table, thinking about what she should say before finally answering "Well I'm a 16 years old and a genin too though  I have been one for awhile not that I care too much. Don't have a team or anything either" She eyed her satchel, having just noticed she brought it with her. Huh, she carried that around so often, she takes it with her instinctively.

"I'm an artist, well actually my whole clan is full of them. We have this kekkei genkai that is called the Ribinguāto which means living art which is pretty much self explanatory. We basically have this ability to make any and all things we draw, paint, or sometimes make, and bring them to life. We're a pretty much a really old clan, like hundreds of years old kind of thing, so most of the clan is stuck in their old fashioned ways. Y'know, always going on and on about tradition and stuff like that. I like to think of myself as a bit of a modernist so when I take over as clan head...Um I'm rambling gomenasai" Aimi smiled nervously and rubbed the back of her head.

She dug around in her pocket and took out enough ryo to pay for her drink as well as Yumma's and got up. She wrapped of her half eaten cinnamon roll and tossed it behind her into a trashcan about three, maybe four meters back, a small thump indicating it went in. "Well I'm tired of sitting on my arse all day. Let's continue our conversation as we walk around the village. I don't know how long you've been here but if for anything you don't remember, maybe this'll be an experience for you? I don't know" She wiped her hands on a napkin and threw that out as well; then she got her coffee and stuffed leaned back, waiting to see if he will follow and join her however she made it clear he didn't have to if he didn't want to. "Oh and I got younger twin sisters. What about you?"

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The girl didn’t react much to hearing about the destruction of the CIA headquarters, which was to be expected. It was the nature of the job as a shinobi that sometimes bad things happened. No doubt she had experienced some hard times herself. As Yuuma spoke she grabbed another cinnamon roll and ate it, first giving it a dunk into her french vanilla coffee. She pushed the box in Yuuma’s direction, inviting him to take one. After he finished talking he selected one, taking a bite and observing the scene. Bringing up sad stories always seemed to put a damper on a conversation, people rarely knowing how to respond. Aimi seemed uncomfortable, giving her condolences and asking about how he was feeling about those he may have lost, specifically wondering if he had lost his sensei. She certainly seemed to be feeling awkward about the situation, which wasn’t Yuuma’s intent when bringing it up.

Yuuma tried to assure her he was fine. ”We were all shinobi. We knew the risks associated with our career field." he explained. "I lost some friends, and yeah sometimes I still miss them, but for the most part we’ve begun looking toward the future to rebuild what we’ve lost. As for my sensei, he’s still alive and kicking as far as I know. Itamae and I went our separate ways a few weeks ago when I told him I was ready to continue my shinobi training. He taught me a lot, but it was time for me to come home and start helping my village.” Yuuma wondered what Itamae was up to now... The man was on a constant quest for improvement, not just of himself but also of the world around him. If Yuuma had to guess, he’d say the jounin was probably picked up another interested stray from a ninja village to train in the way of the Edible Ninja Arts.

Yuuma took another sip of his tea and finished off the cinnamon roll in his hand. After this second one he was fairly sure he’d be able to replicate the roll quite nicely. He might even be able to improve with enough practice. It took a sensitive pallette and a good knowledge of the culinary arts to be able to discern a recipe by taste, but as a member of the CIA it was almost a requirement to learn. It came with the groups secret jutsu, for in order to create food one must know food intimately. It was a rather personal process. Creating food with their jutsu puts a little of themselves into each dish they create, and so even those members of the CIA who were never good at cooking before eventually develop a passion for it.

The girl remarked with surprise as Yuuma revealed his 6-year stint of travel. She inquired curiously about the places he had visited. Yuuma scratched his chin and thought for a moment, trying to recall each village he stayed in over his travels. ”Lets see... I was born here, and when I left we moved around Hi no Kuni for a while as he taught me the basics of traveling. Afterwards I went to Kaze no Kuni and Suna for the first time. CIA members are in somewhat high demand in the desert do to the barren climate, so I’ve been there several times over the years. Iwagakure in Tsuchi is quite nice, and while I have spent some time in Kumogakure we tended to stay away from there. CIA and Raiton don’t usually... mesh well together.”

It was true, though it was no fault of Raiton users. The founders of the CIA felt electricity was a too artifical. The practice of Raiton techniques was forbidden within the group, and many members had grown a bit of prejudice about the element and its users. Itamae was strictly against the negative opinion the CIA had developed against raiton, and Yuuma tried to agree. Unfortunately working with other CIA members cause some it to rub off on him. He didn’t try to, but occasionally he would catch himself behaving a bit more coldly to Raiton users, something he was working to improve on.

When Yuuma asked about Aimi, she straightened herself out a little and gave the question some thought. Finally she began introduce her background. She was 16, merely a year younger than Yuuma, and a squadless genin. With a quick look at the satchel on her side, she began to explain her clan. They were artists, with the ability to bring thir art to life. They were also very old, and very traditional, as Yuuma had assumed. The girl also mentioned that she would someday take over as clan head, meaning she was in quite an important position. Yuuma could only imagine the amount of pressure and expectation associated with being the heir to an entire clan. Once she was done speaking she apologized, worried that she was rambling. Yuuma waved it off, genuinely interested in what she had to say. The idea of living art was extremely interesting. Some people subscribed to the idea that cooking was an art form, and if so there were a few master artists in the CIA. Bringing ones work to life, however, seemed to be a beautiful and impressive process. ”Living art...” Yuuma repeated, mystified. ”That sounds... incredible. Perhaps I’ll be able to see it some time.”

The girl paid for her drink and stood, throwing away the rest of her cinnamon roll. Expressing her desire to move rather than sit, she invited Yuuma to continue the conversation while walking. ”Sure thing,” He agreed, getting up and disposing of his own trash. ”A lot has changed since I left Konoha. I’ve seen some of the new things, but I’m still getting used to the village. Lead the way.” As they prepared to leave Aimi mentioned she had two twin sisters, which Yuuma caught Yuuma by surprise. [color=brown]”No siblings for me, but how does the ‘twin’ thing work with you being the heir to the clan? I guess it must be by order of birth, but that must get awkward with the three of you being pretty much exactly the same age.”

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Kumo is a problem? I wonder if he still met one of the Seven SwordsmanShe wondered however, why Raiton was an issue. Must be a weakness of it She made a mental note to remember that as she had Raiton so it should prove useful should she encounter any enemy shinobi who practices the art. What I don't understand is if the organization had anyone who developed a Raiton affinity even if it's secondary or third She mentally shrugged.

When he absorbed the information about her, he was very much interested; even went so far to say it was incredible. "Maa it sounds good and all but if you make a wrong stroke, there could be disastrous consequences" Aimi remembered when she was nine, she was in one of the many gardens within in clan compound, practicing her art skills. She had seen one of her aunt creating a beautiful painting. It showed a wonderfully detailed dragon that was both frightening and amazing. Her aunt then brought it to life, the black and white creature suddenly basked in colors. It was larger than the largest bear, basking the garden in darkness. However it didn't last long when it suddenly poofed, it' user had fainted due to exhaustion. Aimi called for a medic but during the time in which they medics were on their way, she snatched an unfinished copy of the painting. So right now she was trying to recreate the dragon, however it proved to be more complex than she had anticipated. She added to much chakra and 'life' so to speak which resulted in the dragon being colorless yet still furious, going ahead to attack her. Luckily some of other clansmen saved her with their own beasts. When her father was told of this, he was ashamed; ashamed that she messed up and had to be saved. He did not care she was cut up and bruised. All he cared was that she made a fool of herself and the main family. "Each stroke must be done with precision and plenty of life energy. The greater the beast, the harder it is to control them after they enter our realm"

Aimi was fascinated with where Yumma went. He must've seen such wondrous things. She grinned and walked on, taking about s blank scroll and a brush dipped in ink." Perhaps you just might" She twirled the brush her in hand, adding her chakra through it along with some 'life'. "Can you tell me about some of the places you've seen? Like people, beasts, or places? I want to see if I can draw something alike to them. It won't be very good though if I haven't seen it in person but one day I will" Aimi remember that a clan heir's duty was to take on a journey through the Elemental Nations for about a year. It was a right of passage. You were supposed to come back with knowledge of the different lives people led whilst expending your creative horizons."And well on the way I can show you around the village" she continued "Oh you misheard me. The twins are my younger sisters meaning they were born years after me so there isn't an issue"

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When Yuuma expressed his impressions of Aimi’s Kekkai Genkai, she revealed to him how dangerous it could be if one wasn’t careful. She said that every stroke mattered, and told Yuuma that the drawings being brought to life were more difficult to control the more powerful they were. It seemed she was speaking from experience, and Yuuma wondered what had happened to her. Did she once bite off more than she could chew and hurt herself by trying to create something powerful, or did someone she know get hurt doing something like that? Yuuma definitely didn’t have to worry about that kind of thing with his jutsu. Sure, it took concentration and precision to create a proper dish, not to mention extremely in-depth knowledge of how the actually cooking process worked on a chemical level, but for Aimi and her clan it seemed a botched effort to create something could leave someone seriously hurt. In contrast, for the CIA  the worst case scenario would usually be a volatile dish singing some eyebrows off.

When Yuuma was done listing off the places he had been, Aimi showed interest and curiosity. As they walked along the street, she pulled out an empty scroll and an inkbrush, cryptically offering to show Yuuma some of her artistic skills. Yuuma smiled at this, and when Aimi asked him to tell her more about the things and places he had seen he was more than happy to oblige. She told him she would one day like to see things like them herself one day. She also clarified Yuuma’s misunderstanding, telling him she just had a pair of twins who were her younger sisters, so no problems with messy inheritances. Yuuma laughed at his mistake, realizing that the real situation made much more sense.

”Alright, so I don’t know how much of Hi no Kuni you’ve seen but around here it’s a lot of forest." Yuuma began. ”The forest surrounding Konoha is crazy dense, and really difficult to navigate if you don’t know where you’re going. That’s how we stay hidden to uninvited outsiders. The forest has some pretty big game if you’re into that kind of thing. We actually saw a huge deer, taller than me, with antlers like you wouldn’t believe. I couldn’t understand how it could walk through the forest without knocking them into trees. Outside of the forest the landscape is pretty beautiful, with some nice hills. As a whole the country is pretty large, and we’ve definitely got the biggest village. Kaze is sand, sand, and more sand. If you’ve seen one stretch of it you’ve seen it all. The most you’ve got to worry about there are bandits, and as a shinobi you’ll probably be fine if you travel in a group. You don’t get too many huge animals in the desert on account of the low amount of food available, so most creatues you’ll see are insects or snakes. Maybe you’ll spot the occasional small mammal like coyotes or hares. Sunagakure is a different world from Konoha. They’ve got a big bazaar where you can shop for literally anything you can think of, and they’re entertainment district is pretty extensive. There’s even this big colosseum where people can fight for fun and sport.”

Yuuma thought back to the times he had been to Sunagakure. The colosseum had always been fascinating to him. People would go in there to fight for their own entertainment, training, or sometimes to settle some kind of disagreement, and people would gather in the seats to watch it unfold. Yuuma loved the place, and he always paid the colosseum a visit whenever he found himself in Suna.

”Tsuchi no Kuni is pretty desolate,” Yuuma continued. ”Lots of mountains and rocky areas, which i guess is how it got its name. There are some really cool caves and tunnels there, and a pretty interesting volcano. Iwa has this huge wall that’s apparently never been breached. Inside it’s got some pretty nice sightseeing locations. They also have their own colosseum, but it isn’t quite as impressive as the one in Suna. Their bazaar is absolutely massive though, it takes a up a good chunk of the city. Kumogakure is nice, from what I’ve seen. I’ve only been there once, my sensei had important business so he made me hang out at the sky bar until he was done. It had a spectacular view, but I only stayed there a few hours. The surrounding area, Kaminari no Kuni, is mountainous and treacherous. It’s a dangerous place for the inexperienced.”

Yuuma finished his description of the places he’d been and the pair of shinobi continued walking. Now that he was done with his explanation, he wondered about Aimi’s experiences. ”So...” He began, ”You mentioned your family was old blood. That kind of name is going to have deep connections. Have you met any famous people or important political-type guys? I’m sure you schmooze with people like that all the time as clan heiress.”

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Aimi was having quite a difficult time not laughing. She heard rumors about some crazy beasts in the Dense Forest but nothing as completely as facetious as a humongous deer with a bizarre pair of antlers. According to Yuuma, their antlers were indeed so largely extravagant that it was exceedingly surprising to him that they didn't knock them into the trees, much less have difficulty maneuvering around them. She figured it was really something spectacular to behold. She had a feeling those deer were somehow connected to the Nara clan. In past time deer were a common animal found within the Nara clan's territory. Since it wasn't far from the village, she made a mental note to take a trip out there on of the days. Maybe it will help inspire her art. She wanted to keep her art fresh with new ideas and besides, she is quite fond of nature as are others in her clan. Aimi even went as far to consider making a tree house or something there but that idea went out the window as soon as she thought of it.

Aimi was struck with a wave of inspiration as Yuuma spoke more in detail about the places he has been too. She begins working immediately, her focus completely on her drawing yet she listening closely all the while to him. She kept switching her brush out for her pen back and forth and so on. She agreed with what he said about Kaze no Kuni and Suna. There really wasn't much going on there. Sand was the most abundant element there was. You look to your left, sand. You look to your right, more sand. You look in front of you, sand again. You look behind you and guess what? More sand! Aimi wondered about how many oasis there were in Kaze no Kuni. Hopefully a good amount or else it would've been too difficult to live there for man and beast alike. The desert was a harsh place so she could understand how the demand for his and his 'clansmen' skill set are in such high demand. With the low variety of basic foods, they would need all the help they can get to make it last while at the same time making it taste good and give them all their vitamins and what not. Aimi was thinking that there should be some sort of way to make the environment there not as harsh. The only really interesting thing about Kaze no Kuni was Sunagakure. According to Yuuma, their bazaar had a wide variety of goods, all that she can imagine and more. They even had an extensive entertainment district and a...coliseum? Aimi didn't know they had that. It sounded fun to say the least. When she had gone there, she couldn't see much...or maybe she did. It was so long ago so she couldn't quite remember all the details.

"That sounds awesome! People could walk up and be like, let's fight and everyone could watch? That would fix my boredom issue sooo much." Aimi grinned mischievously "Would be a shame if somebody meets a terrible fate" Oh no there she goes. As Aimi drew, she thought of various ways to cause trouble there. She began thinking of what kind of pranks she could do, maybe ever cause someone to get a heart attack or two but not kill anyone. Should I ever go to Suna may they all beware Aimi tensed when however slightly when Yuuma asked her about her family's history and connections. "Well....um" she stopped sketching for a minute and rubbed the back of her neck "We used to be very well connected and open...however in the recent years we've been kind of isolated and hush hush. I think something happened a few years before I was born but no on will tell me about it. Probably something stupid" she shrugged as she spoke about the last part however that was a lie. She was bothered by it. She always has. Yet whenever she tries to ask someone about it, she is either ignored or something gets in her way, though she was going to tell him that. She turned to the left and gestured to an empty district behind her. "That's the construction site, a part of Konoha that is being rebuilt though it's taking forever" she then pointed at an area a bit far away from them "That's the cemetery. Don't really hang around there much...well no one does. Apparently there was a sighting of the ghost of Hao there. A bit creepy in my opinion"

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