Spoiler:

The morning had been begun unusually early, to the unruly quacking of ducks. The sky was pink with orange bleeding in, forested with waves of clouds heaving west. Komaru set out idly with a disposable cup in hand, sipping hastily at his coffee. The streets yawned of activity, the elders setting up with dawle while conscionable shinobi begin their civilian routines of the morning. An ere of whim led Komaru into the part of town which had recently been unveiled. It was a small district of restaurants which were to open. With the park a few blocks away and the majority housing complexes tapped into the same main road as it, it had been intelligently placed as to warrant visiting. Of course Komaru’s interest had been peaked, though his belly dissatisfied - as none of the shops had officially opened yet.


Misfortune settled in and was quickly accepted. On his way from the district, intent on some new venture, an old man caught attention of him. The man introduced himself as one of the workers who helped construct the new plaza. Fatigue had met him strong on the last day, when everyone pushed through their exhaust to get the job finished, and on his way out in a hungered stumble he lost his planar. This was a tragedy. As a carpenter he was nothing without a planar, without his shaving tool. He had firm biceps and an olympic back but his joints and knees were weak, his eyesight fading, and difficulties mustering the energy to get about. Because of this, he was especially dependant on the planar - for he could not be of use otherwise.


Komaru was swayed, in part by the man’s desperation, but in load by the coin jingled for completion. It was led to be an easy task; Komaru simply had to keep an eye around for the tool. A hint was given that on the last day the geezer had been installing fencing along the bridge.


The bridge was not far from the old man and so Komaru took his time getting over. As he made his way, he encountered several conversive kittens - ones assorted of black, grey, some with a splash of orange to a white coat and others just strangely patterned all together - and of course he took the time to chat with them. It took only the careful caress of their ear to get them stroking, to have them pressed against his shin all a-pur. From experience he knew of their weakness and traced his fingertips to their chin, careful not to rush, and began inducing them to his acquaintance. Due to his crouch, Komaru was open to a perspective normally reserved for midgets and animals - he could clearly see across the grounds horizon. The bridge was not far from where he had halted; precisely, it was 15 meters away. With the vision he had, it was not hard to discriminate the object which had been kicked under the rails of the bridge. Thanks to the width of the object, it appeared that the fences nearness to the bridge prevented the tool from being lost.


Komaru excused himself from the kittens, which replied with dismay, and walked on to the bridge. The planar he retrieved was relatively worn and well lived. Upon the handle the hidden leaf emblem was proudly carved, though pigmented with blood that had seeped into the crevice and dried - proof of the worker’s ethic. Though the screws maintaining the blade were loose, it was not Komaru’s job to dandy the tool up - and as such he set back for the old man immediately. Along the way he was careful to hold the tool upright, removing any likelihood that some motion would hasten to screws undoing.


Upon returning Komaru was met with sincerity and a fine stack of coin.

[Exit]


Word Count: 643/600