Securing Assets (D-Rank):

Jihi knew what her overall goal was going to be, what she aimed to achieve: she wanted to hurt and murder each and every individual involved in what had happened to her and her best friend. She wanted to see them all suffer, to know that their lives were over and they could never again hurt anyone else. If in that process she ended up releasing those like herself, those held against their will in captivity, then so be it. But it was death and vengeance that drove her, not the thirst to be a hero. Yet, she also knew that to do this she had to start at the bottom. She had to build herself and her arsenal up and to do that she had to start by taking missions and making money.


So, as the young woman’s alarm clock began to fill the dark silence with its constant beeping she found her eyelids fluttering open and her hand reaching out, fingers running along the smooth coolness of the alarm to the left-most button before pressing it. The silence that befell the room was almost painful in a way, eerie. With a soft sigh the young woman rose up from her bed, the blankets and sheets still in place as she had fallen asleep on top of them, not liking how they made her feel restricted when she was beneath them. As she passed by the large gilded mirror that sat on top of her dresser she found herself having to pause: her thin form, pale skin, short and choppy white hair, and her black as night eyes made her look so ghostly she appeared more phantom than human. In the mirror her gaze fell upon the slave brand on her forearm, shifting her left hand to run along the mark both branded and tattooed into her flesh for the briefest of moments. A brief shot of pain that was more emotional than physical - the brand having healed over three years ago when it had been done - and she found herself scoffing at herself in annoyance that such a thing would even bother her anymore before turning away and heading into the bathroom to get ready.

Having showered the night before she didn’t bother with doing so again, and so instead she stood before the mirror running a brush through her hair, glad that the thin strands so easily fell flat - while she didn’t exactly care about looking pretty or proper anymore she did believe in looking professional, or at least she did when handling business. Once her hair was free of knots and tangles and no longer sticking up she moved on to brushing her teeth, cleaning them thoroughly but quickly. Finished she moved back into the bedroom and to her dresser once more, choosing to ignore her reflection this time in favor of pulling out a black sleeveless turtleneck, black baggy in the leg pants, and appropriate undergarments. She bound her chest as per usual and dressed herself without fanfare, the blackness of her attire only adding to her overall ghostly and perhaps even a little frightening appearance. Weapons were then secured upon her form, hidden in various pouches and pockets, before she paused as she picked up her Kirigakure hitai-ate. She found herself running her thumb over the shiny faceplate, fingers gently running over the engraved symbol, before she secured it around her left arm.


As Jihi prepared to walk out of her bedroom she paused nearby her most important asset so far - her bow and the quiver of arrows that were with it. She ran her hand along the polished surface of the bow’s body before picking up both and strapping them onto her person as well. Though the mission she would be undertaking today was nothing more than a D-rank - the mission scroll which she picked up last indicating she was to gather some material from one of the mines - she couldn’t bring herself to venture out of her one bedroom unarmed. There was something comforting for her about being armed, about being ready to face any threat that might come her way.


There was something to be said about the stories that civilians and shinobi spread around, little tricks of the mind of phantoms that haunted places where tragedy and death had occurred. For Jihi heading into such a place didn’t bother her. She had never feared the boogeyman, or the thing that lurked under the bed. For her it was the humans that she was surrounded with daily that were the real monsters in her book - men and women who hid behind false smiles, people who were evil incarnate beneath the surface but whom looked so prim and proper among society. The demons, the things that went bump in the night, these were creatures she embraced more willingly than her fellow man.

Shaking her head as if it would shake the thoughts from her mind she glanced back at the sleeping form of her best friend, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest for a moment before softly closing the door behind herself and locking it - and then double checking that it was secure. She knew locks would only keep the honest out, or so the saying went, but she couldn’t leave it open knowing that Simikiel was sleeping and vulnerable.

Jihi made her way to the mines, taking to the backstreets and the rooftops that allowed her to avoid the majority of the populace: she had little interest in running into anyone, and even less interest in being in close proximity with anyone that she didn’t have to be. She simply wished to get her task done and get it done properly. Thankfully, her knowledge she had gained about the village and its streets served her well, allowing her to arrive at the mines just as the sun was beginning to peak up over the horizon. She checked in, donning the appropriate gear for such a trek into the dark, and then headed in.


As she passed several miners she listened to them mutter among themselves, one fully believing he had moments ago escaped the spirit of some miner who had been trapped when a cave in had occured. Jihi couldn’t help but to roll her eyes, finding herself thinking that she was likely the most phantom-like thing any of them had actually seen. The trip into the mine took a while and she found herself heading deeper and deeper still, careful to ensure she remained on the right path and kept herself safe in the process.

Once she got so deep into the mine she found herself staring at scattered about material: having been left there after some kind of accident. Knowing she needed at least five to ten kilos of it she began to gather it up, tossing it all into a push cart upon a track that led back to the surface. She didn’t bother the fact that her hands, bare arms, and eventually her face and hair got dirty in the process. Piece after piece was picked up and tossed into the metal cart, filling it slowly but surely. It wasn’t until the cart was full with the needed raw material that she would pause, catching the briefest flash of white light out of the corner of her eye. Frowning she glanced over, knowing full well she was alone this deep down. She stared at the spot for several long moments before tossing the last of the material into the cart and pushing the cart back up the trek she had walked down. It was time consuming, but every foot was another foot out, until finally she could see the light ahead that marked the entrance to the mine. With a last burst of energy she pushed the cart up and out, waiting patiently as it was weighed before accepting her payment and walking off.

Even covered in coal dust, dirty, and the gods knew what else, she found herself a bit happier - she was closer to the goal she was saving up for, closer to the arsenal she was hoping to build up. So with her pockets fuller than they had been when she arrived she headed back home, keen to wash up and check and see if Simikiel was awake or not yet.


Word Count: 1,482 / 1,350 (750 + 600)
Total Ryo: 150 + 150 = 300