Cold was the night, and Harue spent it in her apartment like she did most days, following a day of D-ranks.

Harue’s apartment was small. Of course, this was simply judged by Konoha’s standards. To her, her apartment was absolutely enormous, considering she had come from a small, nameless village that could barely even compare with Konoha in size and technology, among others.

Her apartment was roughly thirteen metres long by eight metres wide, with the ceiling extending up to slightly beyond four metres. If one were to look at her apartment from a bird’s eye view, it would be easiest to imagine it as a rectangle - not a perfect one, but a rectangle nonetheless - with the vertical length spanning thirteen metres, while the horizontal length spanning eight metres.

At the bottom right of the apartment would be her bedroom. It would be five metres long by three metres wide. Squashed to the left wall would be her bed, the blue blanket dotted with starry patterns strewn about, unmade since a few days ago. The blanket itself blended in well with her bedsheets, her pillow case, and her bolster, since they were all just different shades of blue. Her pillow was the only thing at its place at the head of the bed, with the bolster for some reason on the floor beside her bed. She suspected Nikko had something to do with that. Right beside her bed was her light brown bedside table, made of polished wood with two cupboards and then standing on four curved legs, with an alarm clock perched on it, angled so it was slightly facing the bed. On the wall opposite that where her bed lay flush against was her wardrobe, coloured tawny to light brown, the same shade as her bedside table. After the house cleaning she had gone through a few days ago, it looked splendid, with the four drawers, two by two, at the bottom of it closed with no clothing sticking out, and the slider above it also shut.

Occupying the bottom right of her house, from the bird’s eye view as mentioned before, would be her living room. It was eight metres long by five metres wide, and it was conventionally what she referred to as ‘the bottom left part of her apartment where she spent most of her free time lounging around doing absolute jack’. The the left, against the wall, rested her flat screen television, placed above a wooden table that housed the receiver on a small shelf below the TV, while it housed two speakers on either side of the television. Her television was a sleek black in colour - she knew it was one of the latest models on the market, in both design and functionality - while her shelf was a shade of light brown, also of polished wood and also one of the most expensive money could buy. Two vases flanked the shelf on either side, both having the same design - sapphire blue against a pale blue, almost white, background depicting a dragon fighting off against a traditional spearman. Both vases also housed bright white and orange Jofuku flowers that she had bought from the local Yamanaka Flowers store. Unlike wild ones, these were processed, promising not to intoxicate victim who inhaled its pollen, released when uprooted. In front of her television was a tortilla-coloured nylon sofa, facing the television, while the floor was of a tawny brown, polished but not slippery, and mostly hidden underneath a dark blue carpet that covered most of the living room.

Beyond her living room, at the top left of her house, was her kitchen-slash-dining room. It was five-by-five, and its space was evidently separate by that of her living room with a narrow wooden counter topped with a marble platform. Above it was a small transparent glass bowl that contained some miso soup, from the ramen she had cooked for dinner, with the chopsticks she had used resting atop the bowl itself, placed together. The counter itself extended from right angles to the wall, and was attached at one end - the end nearer to the wall - to a set of kitchen cabinets, all the same shade and material as the wood in her bedroom, save the top, which like her counter was a brilliant and familiar white shade of marble. Above the cabinets were the sink, stove, and oven, all pressed against the wall located at the right of her kitchen, while at the top of her kitchen and consequently the top of her apartment was the slate gray fridge, while the floor in the kitchen consisted of a marble-tiled floor of varying patterns of white and black.

Harue plopped down on the couch after having enjoyed her ramen dinner, before turning on the television. Nikko curled up beside her, one eye fixated on the television screen, while the other remained closed, and she couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or watching the television, even if should have been obvious with Nikko.

She heard the soft pitter patter of rain against the outside of her apartment, and felt laziness creep up on her as she leaned deeper into her couch. Resting like this was always a good way to end the day, even if the apartment didn’t belong to her, but rather a woman who went by the name of Kochiyo Yamasaki. However, the latter had disappeared into the field for several years, and was not slated to return for several more, so the landlord of this particular set of apartments, Yoshiaga Gakusha, had decided to rent it out to her. Despite the very likely possibility of her needing to leave this apartment, though, Harue had taken the liberty of making this feel as much as home as possible, buying some extra furniture to complement the feel of the place, though definitely not as expensive as any of Kochiyo’s.

The couch was just one example, Harue thought, as she glued her eyes to the television screen, watching some cheesy late night romance show and enjoying the sound of the rain outside, even as it got heavier and heavier.

WC: 1034

Tight was the scarf around Sujin’s face. The winds had increased their berating velocity and showed no signs of slowing down. As the rain fell in heavy clusters, hitting the side of his pants even as he stood under his umbrella because of the wind’s bullying presence. He’d nearly lost his umbrella with the last gust as he had approached the steps of the apartment building. Tilting the umbrella back enough to just barely get a glimpse of the buidling’s front climb, Sujin could only sigh irritably.

”Might as well start calling this the Hidden Rain if this weather keeps up,” he muttered angrily to himself.

Tonight was all his own fault, as almost every situation these days seemed to be, all due to his lack of missions. Normally, not being assigned missions was a good thing however his parents felt differently. Wanting to make sure they taught their son how a shinobi shouldn’t shirk his duties, they had placed a quota of missions he had to do per week. As tonight was Saturday, he had been doing small, low ranking missions all day to meet the quota for the week. Of course, had he not put off doing missions til the last two days of the week, he might have been able to relax just as well as he had for the beginning part of the week. At this moment, his mission was a very simple D rank, and in normal circumstances it wouldn’t have been a mission at all but the weather had really turned for the worst lately and thus he had to do a simple job on a terrible night.

He looked down at the bag full of packed sushi and assortment of sauces and boxes of white rice. Someone had ordered quite the meal and the address pointed to the seventh floor of this apartment high-rise. Honestly, just taking the food for himself was quite the tempting thought. His parents might even believe him if he played it off as his latest mission payments caused him to pig out on great quality sushi. The takeout was from Sugoi's Sushi Shop, a village-acclaimed restaurant for its deliciousness and subsequently expensive menu. And from the looks of the sushi rolls through the clear plastic containers, whoever the customer was, they had a delightfully brilliant order. Sujin wasn’t exactly sure what all was ordered from the light of the street lamps, but the aroma was intoxicating.

He took the first few steps up the stairs to the front entrance, entering a rather white stone lobby. The night shift desk man took a quick glance at Sujin as he shook his umbrella dry. A few loud sniffs rang through the air and Sujin smiled at the front desk man who had caught a whiff of the fresh meal. ”Smells good doesn’t it?”

“Almost wish it was for me,” the man laughed, visibly grateful for another face to talk to as he sat up straight in his chair. “What is that I’m smelling?”

”Nothing short of excellence. It’s a full meal of Sugoi’s Sushi to be delivered to one of your tenants.”

Sujin would lift the takeout bag for the floorman to have a better view of it. The shining characters glinted along the slightly damp paper bag. A similar shine shone from the floorman's eyes at the sight of the great sushi master’s artful signature upon the bag. “Oh ho ho, that’s some good sushi right there.”

”You know it pal. So where do I go to get to the seventh floor?”

“Just take this hallway to the left. There will be a set of stairs at the end of the hallway to take you up.” The floorman leaned over the front desk’s counter and pointed with his left arm.

Thanks, you have a good day.”

The floorman waved goodbye as Sujin made his way up the stairs. His friendly face dropped immediately upon seeing the stairs. Seven floors of this crap, he silently grumbled in his mind.  On the most part, D rank missions were just as tedious as this one. There really weren’t very many missions this low of rank that carried bigger importance than carrying supplies from Point A to Point B. Seeing as things were peaceful at the moment, he never really had to do much military work at such a low rank. If things weren’t so peaceful there would be differences in mission types,  so maybe it was best that he was doing simple stuff like hauling takeout food in stormy weather rather than doing scouting or whatever might be suitable for a Genin ranked ninja in wartime. However, menial tasks such as this were really taxing on his nerves. Wasted time was something he prefered to do on his own, not be forced to do it in tediously painful ways.

Climbing up to the seventh floor was a hassle, and just as he had begun to feel his clothes drying out, he also noticed some perspiration from the tall climb. Not even his umbrella would be able to shield him from his own sweat. He just hoped he might get a good tip out of this, otherwise the temperature would be rising beneath his skin.  The food was still roughly the same temperature as when he received it, even with the warm rice sitting near the cooler sushi rolls. Quite the talented craftsmen had created the boxes for the meal to achieve this, Sujin supposed.

As much as the suspense might have normally been for finding out the identity to the customer that had ordered such a savory and delightfully odorous meal, Sujin decided he could not care less. Only one thought came to his mind as he rapped his knuckles against the door to the target customer. Please be a big tip, please be a big tip.



Post: 995

Never had he expected, from the moment that they met, that they would be able to get along so easily. This was the first time he had ever been invited to someone’s household, so for some reason there was an uneasy feeling, but he couldn’t put his fingers on it. Swaying from left to right through the streets of Konohagakure, mingling with the crowd surrounding him. For starters, he needed to find the place. He wasn’t that well known around Konohagakure just yet, although he has been staying here for a while. Never has he been good with directions, though for everything should be a first time. Walking from one street to the other, he wondered if he was indeed lost. To him, every corner of every street looked the same to him, figuring he probably should’ve paid closer attention to the signs hanging out at the shops as an indication of whether he had already been there before or not. Sighing once, he looked from left to right. The busy streets didn’t make his view any clearer, though he did know that Wendy lived in an apartment, which must mean he should only pay attention to the taller buildings in the area. This makes it a little bit easier, but just how many tall buildings are there around?

His best bet would be to take it from the top of the buildings, just taking his view to a higher level by standing on the rooftops. With his chakra focused to his feet, he could easily maintain his balance on the walls and run himself to one of the highest buildings in the area. Though not an apartment, this was the roof of a normal residence. Although a little bit rude, but in his situation he didn’t have a choice. The rain clouded his vision; at this point he wondered why he didn’t even bring an umbrella. Because he didn’t have one. During his travel, he’d just hide whenever there’s rain. But this time, he had actually somewhere to be. He needed to move himself through the rain, with or without an umbrella. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to spot what’s ahead in the distance. He could count a few buildings within this area, now only he had to hope that she indeed lives in this area. He wasn’t in a position to think this through, since he didn’t even remember the address. Without a single thought, he jumped off the rooftop and continued jumping through the gaps of the alleyways in between some of the facilities. None of the people looked up at the buildings to see who’s running there; was to be expected. Apparently it’s something daily in Konoha. It’s a shinobi village, of course.

The first two tall buildings were a bust. Knocking on a random person’s door, someone who lived there and asking them about Harue turned out to be not that smart of Susumu. Maybe it’s not a close community at all and the people living there don’t know everyone. Seems a little odd, since he’d figure someone would want to know about who he’s sharing the building with. Shrugging it off, considering it’s none of his business, he strolled along to the next one. At this point, he’s really taking it easy. Already being pretty late, he realized that rushing it wouldn’t make a difference anymore. Seeming like he’s almost completely out of energy, he arrived at his next destination. The steps he took led him to the lobby of the apartment building. It seemed rather luxurious. Way too much for Susumu’s taste, but that’s just because he grew up in the wild. There was a man sitting behind a desk, apparently someone who works here. He didn’t know that the apartment where she could possible live turn out to be this.. big. His clothes were completely drenched because of the rain. Raindrops dripped from the spikes of his hair, onto the stone white tiles. He shook himself, a little like a dog, just water splattering all over the place without a thought about the person that’s in front of him. He just didn’t care. Like it all never happened, he walked up to the desk in order to ask the man a favor, even after all that he just did. “Listen, I’m looking for someone named Harue. It seems like you work here, so do you maybe have any information on where her room is?” He tried to stay as politely as possible, but it could’ve been even more polite. He just didn’t show that much of an effort. The desk man grunted, appearing to be a little displeased with Susumu’s performance.

Without a word, the desk man dug himself into something, only to raise his head a little later and point him into the direction of the hallway, leading to the stairs. “Seventh floor.” Those were the only words that he got out of him. Their conversation didn’t go that respectful, but at least he got the idea of where to head to next. His clothes leaving behind a trail of water, he walked through the hallway and up the stairs. The man behind the desk eyed Susumu as he walked out of his sight, then shook his head and let out a sigh. To him, this was just an annoyance, but Susumu paid no mind. The thing on his mind right now was that he had to walk seven stairs, only to come to the realization that he didn’t even have her house number. Reaching the floor that was his destination, he stopped in his tracks. Which of these many doors was it? His eyes scanned each and every single one of them, as they suddenly dropped on the only person in front of him. The only one in the same path as him. It was a long shot, but given that the person there is waiting for someone to open the door, he figured approaching them would be his best shot. Chances are that it is indeed Harue opening the door, if not, maybe that person knows where she lives. His footsteps were heard coming in his direction from the distance, creating a splashing sound each time it hit the stone beneath his soles. His clothes were still wet, but were in the process of drying, although it didn’t go as fast as he’d hoped. He felt his body temperature dropping, meaning that he’d best head inside somewhere soon to avoid getting sick. The last thing he’d need right now. Nonchalantly walking up to the stranger, casually just dropping “Yo.” as a form of a greeting. Right now, he was standing just a little bit away from the individual. Just to come over not that creepy, he did that greeting. He was actually just wondering if the person living here would know where he should be at.

Word count: 1147

Harue pat Nikko and rubbed his belly even as her attention remained transfixed on the sappy romance comedy she was watching. A half-hour had passed and it was part way through the episode, during which Nikko had decided to jump into her lap, making himself comfortable. He rolled around in her lap, trying to get her to scratch hard to reach places, and she idly complied with his requests - sometimes she wondered who was the owner here - while she tried not to cringe at some of the overly cliche quotes and stereotypical portrayals that ran rampant within these night time television shows.

Nikko’s head then raised up and he looked at the door, before barking once. Harue let her attention drift to the door as well, distracted momentarily from one of her most frequently watched shows. It was unlike Nikko to get agitated over someone at the front door. Of course, she seldom had people over, and mailmen normally didn’t have to walk all the way up; instead, they left any designated parcels at the lobby and residents would go down to retrieve them at their own leisure.

Her mind then clicked, realising it was likely the sushi delivery man. She had ordered takeaway from Sugoi’s Sushi Shop, which had left her wallet substantially lighter. The food was supposed to be worthwhile though, some of the best in all the Elemental Continents, and considering this small tidbit of information had come from a renowned critic whose roots were firmly entrenched in the culinary cultures that pervaded the Land of Noodles, he really had no reason to be overly biased towards an establishment set up in Konoha. She surmised that, considering she’d probably not see Nikko again any time soon, buying overly expensive sushi to share between the two of them (yes, her dog was eating sushi, shush) was only a very small recompense she could do.

She heard several knocks on the door and surmised that that had to be the sushi delivery guy. She slowly got up from the couch, giving Nikko enough warning to jump off her lap and trail after her as she walked to the front door and unlocked it, before swinging it open inwards. Standing at the doorway was a man thoroughly soaked in the rain - ouch, she probably should have taken that into account. Behind his white scarf, he had a pale complexion, made more ghastly by the dark lighting of the storm, and his silver eyes and black hair blended in with the colours in the background. His hair was tied up into a ponytail, which Harue guessed was actually spiked but was thoroughly drenched by the rain. The rest of his appearance was a complimentary olive and green, with several autumn hues thrown into the mix. In one hand, he held an umbrella, folded up and dripping wet just like its owner, while in the other-

Nikko barked loudly at the person. Harue followed his gaze and realised by the time his second bark came around that his nose was pointed straight at the sushi held in a translucent plastic bag dangling from his other hand. Another bark came around and Nikko sat on his hind legs, looking up at Harue expectantly. His eyes told of anticipation, and Harue read his mind that if she didn’t pay the man for their sushi, there would be no peace tonight.

“Calm down boy,” she said finally, with a grin, before turning her attention back to the man in front of her. There would be no payment necessary - it had all been a hefty upfront payment. Considering the intoxicating smell wafting from that one small piece of plastic though, she was sure that it was money well spent. Perhaps too well spent, as the aroma of warm, fresh rice and that tinge of mayonnaise - probably from the salmon rolls, tipped with caviar - filled her senses.  “I’m sorry you had to travel all the way here, especially under the rain. Would you like to come in and dry up slightly; maybe wait until the rain is over? You could even share some of that sushi with Nikko and I. That’s definitely much more than I remember seeing on the menu.”

Just as she planned to step back to allow the man entry, (no one ever said she was smart enough to think twice about letting strangers into her apartment, considering she had just invited a drunk goliath in several weeks ago) she caught sight of a young child, no older than ten, walking up past him. In the dim lighting, aided only by the light coming from inside her house, it took her a second to realise that it was the frame of her young friend, Susumu Uchiha, who like the man next to him, was dripping utterly wet, drenched in rainwater.

“Susumu?” she said in surprise. Had she invited him over…? She couldn’t really recall… Well, no point keeping a seven-year-old outside in the cold ran. “Come on in,” she quickly invited, motioning for the two of them to enter while she stepped back.

Harue would take the bag of sushi from the man and set it on the marble countertop that delineated her living room and kitchen, before pulling up three stools in the kitchen and taking out four plates - one for Nikko who would be eating in the living room while they, his humble servants, ate from the kitchen. The television was still on, and from their seats they would be able to see it, even if the light reflected off the screen slightly from their angle, obscuring the leftmost portion of the screen. The remote remained on the couch; if either would take it and change channels Harue didn’t mind. All that mattered now was enjoying what had cost her a fortune, along with Nikko’s company, and that of the two others she had invited in while they waited for the rain to subside.

WC: 1005 + 1034 = 2039

OOC: Sorry this is so late. I didn't receive a notification that Bart had posted until I looked through it. Also, the quality might be a little lacking, since I rushed through this first thing in the morning. My bad again! >.<

Also, one of you will have to start the fight. I'll join in the second round of posting after Harue 'tries' to get Nikko to safety. Bonus points if one of you 'accidentally' kills Nikko, whether while he's trying to escape or before.

For some reason an old folk song was on his mind as he waited at the door. He was not a fan of folk music, but his mother was quite the fan. Yet even so the familiar pluckings of a shamisen could be heard within his head. A small pet peeve of his was under stress, as he hated having music he did not like stuck in his head, yet he was completely at the mercy of the song which played in a never ending loop of about four seconds. The only four seconds he seemed to know well of one of his mother's favorite folk songs, and the odd plucking sound seemed to tear away at his patience with each repetition.

However, his mood was less sour once the door opened and revealed his awaiting customer to be a girl. Not just any girl, mind you, but one that looked to be close, if not the same, in age as him. As he was still in his later teen years, this had a certain hormonal effect in his brain. No longer was the folk music or plucking of the shamisen in his mind. He quickly took the sight in, as she was rather easy on the eyes, but soon diverted his attention to the yapping dog at her heels. The dog seemed to either be really anticipating the food, or a bit at odds with meeting him. Sujin, of course, took this a bit personally and immediately decided the dog was not pleased with meeting him. Screw you, too, doggo, he muttered in his head.

"Thanks, the storm is getting nasty out there," he said, making a lifting motion with his soaked umbrella as if to highlight his wet manner.

Still, the girl let him inside to dry off, as the rain was getting heavier, which was a really nice gesture. Especially considering that the girl paid no mind in handing any money over. Even a tip would've been nice, with all the walking and soaking he did to get here. The sushi was still fresh and dry though as he had put priority on keeping the bag as dry as possible over himself. Obviously it was his currently drenched state that caused her to invite him in. Why else would a girl invite a stranger into her apartment, even if it was a delivery boy? But before he could make a move to step inside, a small boy of several years Sujin's junior appeared beside him. A simple "yo" was all that escaped the boy's lips as he joined him outside the girl's door.

That simple "yo" triggered something deep within Sujin. An old memory long forgotten, tucked away by many folds and locks of his brain in hopes of never being reminded of it again. Yet here this boy seemed to somehow trigger it in the manner that he had spoken it. All of a sudden Sujin seemed to be transported into the dark, cruel dimension of his mind. His body seemed to be floating backwards, the word "yo" repeating itself several times over in an echoing manner.

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo...

A room opened up before Sujin, his body settling from its floating state as he remembered a particularly special day at the Academy. There was a dark haired boy that stood before him. Little Sujin was already on the floor, holding himself up with his elbows as he faced this attacker. The kid just repeated the word "Yo" over and over again while holding up his hands to his ears and sticking his tongue out. Other kids sprang up around Sujin and did the same thing. They were all taunting him, mocking him. Being so much younger at the time, he had quickly welled up with tears, something that only egged the other kids on more. How cruel this day had been, all because of a failed attempt to look cool on his first day at the Academy. Sujin remembered this tragic day, and how for weeks this joke seemed to continue on as kids would only greet him with a mocking "Yo" until finally he put on an apathetic face long enough to get the kids to grow bored with the gag and stop. It had been years since he had thought of such a haunting memory, yet so quickly it had come back to him. All because of this little boy standing next to him.

"Susumu?" the girl seemed to say in more shock than question.

Sujin was back to the present, blinking a couple times as he regained the sense of the present. Had that happened within an instant? Not wanting to draw more attention, he stepped forward, but gave a sideways glare to the little boy. He already despised the kid for triggering such a terrible memory. Had the kid the guts enough (or really the ignorance in the boy's case) to say "Yo" one more time, Sujin would be ready to throttle the little punk. Until then, Sujin went to lay the bag of sushi on the table. Upon resting the bag, he noticed his grip on the handles had intensified greatly from the triggered memory. Such was the flame of fury inside him, as if Sujin wanted to lash out against that kid from years ago who had started the "Yo" mocking in the first place, but only to use this kid, Susumu, as a replacement for his targeted anger.

In his rapidly growing rage, Sujin failed to notice the girl had placed out four plates. Instead, he only eyed the Susumu boy longer as he simply stood by the kitchen counter, his right hand tightening around the umbrella's shaft while his now free hand only crumpled into a bound fist. All thought of being paid for the food or given a tip was lost in his mind now. Only the "Yo" existed in his brain. The ever increasing echo of which only seemed to slowly build the cultivating fire within.



Post: 1012
Total WC: 2007

OOC:

Drop the hot sauce. Hold the lettuce. Stop all trains in the outbound station. The little punk standing at not even five feet tall just said “Yo” AGAIN. Sujin couldn’t believe his ears. It was like the kid knew about Sujin’s past. The boy was much too young to have been around when Sujin had been in the Academy, yet the way he said “Yo” was almost the spitting insult that he had heard years ago. How he knew was of little concern at the moment.

Sujin sprang straight into action, throwing a fist to the boy’s cheek. He moved with all of his anger, raising his voice to spout off at the boy. “Say 'Yo' again!” He spat. “I dare you, punk. Using that tone with me, you know exactly what you’re doing. Just stop it.”

Whether it was the miserably rainy day, the tedious missions he’d worked himself crazy on all afternoon, or the haunting flashback resurfaced by Susumu’s words Sujin understood he was angry. Maybe not justified, but he was angry. The tipping point was achieved and there was no stopping the Jenga blocks of his tower of emotion. A simple punch wasn’t going to quell the fire now ignited within him. Susumu was going to have to pay for the insult he had almost knowingly inflicted upon him.

In all of this, the concept of where Sujin was seemed to have faded from his mind. He understood he was in an apartment, and where things were in relation to him, but what he really displaced from his thoughts was that it was this girl’s apartment. Harue as Susumu had just called her, would be witnessing all of this while preparing her own dinner. And all while being soaked at the bottom edges of his pants and coat sleeves, where flecks of rain would spring from out of the quick movements he made.

Following his punch, Sujin would finally answer the boy's question. "And the name's Sujin! Don't you forget it!" The anger in his tone would only be equally displayed in the amount of spit being fired from his lips as he spoke with extreme emphasis and force on his consonants.



Post: 376
Total WC: 2383