Many months have passed since the attack on Sunagakure no Sato. Many of the refugees had not even managed to drag a singular artifact or keepsake with them when they fled. Shinobi and civilian alike were housed in the small tent communities while they managed to get themselves situated and get back on their feet in order to start life once again. Within his personal tent, which blended in uniformly among all of the dozens of identical ones, Rōi sat clutching his head on either side, staring at a half finished page in the notebook he had pulled from the rubble of his home. Certain pages were scorched and others covered with soot. While some who had been unfortunate enough to personally view the horrors of the attack would lose their composure and run amok through the camp in hysterics, Rōi had been quietly consumed by his own trauma in his candlelit temple.

His black hoodie and ripped jeans were all that symbolized the leisure and relaxation his life before had allowed him. It was all gone now. Beneath the shadow of the raised hood how blood-orange eyes were bloodshot, his mouth was as dry as a desert, his stomach burned with the hunger of a week’s worth of uneaten rations. The only things that refugee had managed to do for himself regularly were hygienic. As he looked upon the page with a few tears dripping down onto its dry ink, stripping away words and replacing them again with only concepts, he found it all.

Alive with inspiration, Rōi would fill his pockets with some of his medical supplies and take a walk through the market district to allow himself to think with more effectively against the cool air of the extremely early morning. It was nearly 3:00 AM, but none of that mattered at all anymore now that he had found his muse. The streetlamps kept the walkways along the storefront illuminated. Only very faint chatter could be heard still from within bars and tucked away taverns. Hungry criminals sat in wait near some of the rougher areas to catch weary commuters unaware and rob them blind.

None of this really registered in Rōi’s mind as he walked, his brain pumping out new concepts and ideas like a freight train moving down the tracks with no operator. Each rugged face of the homeless slumped against the shops, each stray dog rummaging through garbage, every aspect of this nighttime hour of Konoha would fuel the first chapter of his works. He would need to gather so many more details and experiences before he could set to work on this one in particular. Rōi was no longer Rōi at all. He would need to play a different role for the time being in order to further his tale. It was on that night, at 3:00 AM in the morning exactly that ‘Arata’ was formed.

As he stood next to one of the last few bars to empty out, he would scan the crowd intensely, attempting to maintain some form of subtlety. Somewhere in that crowd he would find the first of many characters he deemed worthy of his tale.

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539 WC

Sumire sat with her head lolled back staring at the ceiling. This dingy bar was the only one open as far as she knew and the horned woman desperately needed a drink after her mission. Too bad for her the bartender seemed amateur and struggled to even make her a decent tasting mixed drink. Sumire rocked forward and put her head in her hand as she watched him scurry around like a chicken with his head cut off.

She briefly wondered if the young man serving her was even of age. He had a round baby face and it wouldn't surprise her in the least if he was. She had fun watching him scatter though. Sumire drummed her fingers against the table wondering what time it was. She had passed many bars on her way over here but they all seemed to have closed early tonight. For what reason, she wasn't sure.

This bar wasn't so bad. It was rather small but gave off very homey vibes. the yellow tinted lights gave the beige walls an unflattering glow but the wooden bar was pristine. Behind the bar, seats were a row of booths with dark red leather seats and tables that matched the bar. Their drink selection though was pretty vast and the menu items were unique. Their hours were also long Sumire noted as she finally found a clock that showed the time was 3 am.

The bar boy sat a drink in front of the violet haired wonder and looked at her nervously. She was the only person in the bar and as she guessed this poor soul was probably new. The drink was served in a margarita glass but was far too watery to look like one. The rim was lined with pink... Sugar? She desperately hoped otherwise. A little umbrella sat miserably in the drink only being held up by the rim of the glass. Sumire looked up at the young man who watched waiting for her approval.  She took a tentative sip and almost gagged at the strength. Was there anything but tequila in this? And the glass was definitely rimmed with sugar.

"Whoever trained you should be fired. You're lucky I really need a drink." With that said the young woman drank the entire glass and pinched her lips shut. The taste of straight tequila disgusting her beyond belief. At least she would definitely get a little more than tipsy. She slapped dome Ryo on the counter and stood up causing her legs to buckle just a bit. Sumire shrugged to herself she didn't think had been sitting for that long. Sumire pushed open the door causing a little bell to jingle and resound through the bar.

"Next time try lining the rim with salt.." She paused for a second and then added "And maybe I don't know using the machine? dumbass" She muttered the insult under her breath before letting the door close on her way out. It was too late to do much else and the nightlife seemed to be crawling to a halt as Sumire walked under the lamp posts. She figured that she might as well go home. There was no real purpose to be out anymore. The horned woman breathed out a sigh of exasperation as she wished for anything interesting to happen to her before the night was through.

---

Rōi, henceforth referred to as Arata for the purposes of his tale, had begun to conceive the bare skeleton of a plot in his mind. The most important part of this story would be the characters within, and only certain characters would meet the mark. He needed originality while also following the standard tropes that work time and time again in all good stories. And as he looked with displeasure upon the tired looking, merrymaking faces of the drunks leaving the bars to return to their beds, he would gaze upon a beautiful form. A woman with a violet colored bob, and a gorgeous figure. These qualities certainly checked off key points of interest for Arata, but it wasn’t necessarily the rare and unique treasure he needed. Of course, that only would have applied if there were not yet another feature of the young woman. Two lengthy horns peaked out from beneath her delightful bob and reached toward the sky. She was perfect, but he could not be too hasty to indentify her role just yet.

One way or another, Arata had to speak with her and arrange the opportunity for repeat encounters. He would clear his thought and crack his index finger just out of sight before lowering his hood and approaching the woman, who seemed to be at least a tiny bit inebriated. “Isn’t it a little dangerous to be out here in the night amidst all types of vagrants?” He would direct the question with a chuckle as he pulled a cigarette from a small tin in his hoodie pocket and sparked it with a tiny application of scorch release, hardly noticeable to the untrained eye. Smoking was the ironic and unhealthy habit Arata had developed since becoming a refugee. Little habits of that sort helped to distract his mind when he truly needed it.

He would take care not to allow his smoke to disturb her in anyway, the last thing he wanted was to gross her out or irritate her unnecessarily. He would flip open the stainless steel cigarette carton and pull another out, placing it with confidence and forwardness against her lips softly, placing his finger at the tip as an offer to light it. Whether he had known it or not up to this point, it wasn’t really the Arata character that held such confidence in flirtation and conversation. It was merely the facade of playing a part that allowed him to act it out without anxiety.

As the crowd parted and spread out onto their own individual paths, the two were left there, standing along the sidewalk just as they were. The crickets chirping and Arata smiling at the horned woman with a gentle look on his face. “Where were you heading next? I’m Arata, and I’ll be joining you on your way.” It was less a request and more of a declaration as he awaited a response.

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492 | 1031

Sumire spaced out as she walked the streets. Thinking of what she wanted to eat for breakfast tomorrow. Scrambled eggs? Too basic. Pancakes? Too messy. Her stomach growled as she thought about the perfect breakfast food causing her to giggle. She wasn't sure why she found the sound so amusing but she did. She was a little tipsier than she thought she would be but she did drink a fair share of tequila straight on an empty stomach.

She was startled when she heard someone speaking to her. She turned her head to look at the person who'd interrupted her. It looked to be a young man a few inches taller than her with silvery hair. His eyes were a reddened orange causing Sumire to immediately wonder aloud if he was high. She was a bit too busy staring at him to even fathom what he'd said upon approaching her. She was only just catching up to the fact that he managed to light his cigarette without a lighter.

"What a cool use for chakra." She thought aloud as she watched the smoke blow from his lips.

What he was saying currently finally registered to her. Which was his name, Arata, and that he wanted to know what she was up to. What was she up to? She couldn't think about what yo say as she looked at his lips. They were super chapped. Sumire reached into her pocket and pulled out scented chapstick. She screwed off the cap and reached to apply to his lips sloppily not really caring much for personal space or if he liked the smell of cherry. She would place it back in her pocket afterward oblivious of his response. Sumire was a very handsy drunk.

"Name's Sumire and I mean I guess you could come to my apartment." She spoke looking up at him. Her voice sounded so strange to her as they came out of her mouth. The horned woman would giggle a little bit before finishing her thought. "I'd have to kill you if you did that though." She covered her mouth to hide the extra giggles that would escape. She probably looked insane to the poor man. She could definitely use another drink to forget how weird she was being. Sumire would suddenly stand up straight and straighten herself before starting to walk once more and motioning for Arata to follow her.

She was still gonna head to her apartment but it would be fun to test this stranger's patience first. So Sumire started walking towards the next open store she could see. It looked to be a small convenience store. The fluorescent sign on the outside said '24/7'. So Sumire would turn back to the bold but, cute man she'd just met and flash him a smile that in her mind looked innocent.

"Let's get some snacks first. I'm sure you've got the munchies." She would then push open the door to the small store and hold it open for the silver-haired man before heading into the nearest aisle to pick out some chips and probably a beer.

---

There was almost no hesitation from the time he had started smoking to the time in which a cherry chapstick would be pressed against his chapped lips. Only in that moment would the hoodie-clad shinobi realize he hadn’t been taking very good care of himself. Since he was young, due to the nature of his bloodline, Arata had always been prone to quick dehydration. His lips would become chapped, his eyes would dry out quickly, requiring some frantic blinking to alleviate. He also had to drink water rather frequently to keep from developing an uncomfortable cottonmouth. He would only playfully retract from her as she smudged the moisturizer across his lips, reaching up suddenly and grasping her wrist as he leaned away comically.

“What are you...you damned drunk! Get off of there!” he would frown exaggeratedly, his cheeks flushing a bit red as he followed his followed her into the convenience store. He would move his lips against one another to spread the cherry flavored substance around, causing his lips to feel much better and far less cracked and dry. The store that they entered was of the typical sort that remained open at all hours. High powered fluorescent lighting with rows upon rows of candy, chips, and other sorts of snack foods. At the front of the shop, some convenience store food, for those who were brave enough to try it.

He stood before the rotating hot dogs and let his gaze scan the content of the food warmers. He preferred hot food over room temperature snacks, unless of course those snacks were candy. This thought quickly rushed to his mind and lead him to do a quick swerve around to investigate the candy aisles. All throughout his browsing he always kept one eye on Sumire. “What sort of snacks are your favorite, Sumire? I’m a fan of sour candies. Have you ever tried these?” Arata would raise a small colorful green bag of bite sized sour candies. He knew them to be quite pucker-worthy in intensity.

Whether she had or had not wasn’t truly going to change anything as Arata stuffed one pack into each pocket of his jeans and one into his front hoodie pocket. He would take the pack from his hoodie pocket and place it upon the counter in front of the clerk as a method he often used when stealing. The clerk would take the legitimate purchase as some sort of evidence that he was an upstanding citizen and patron of the 24/7 mart. He would wait at the front for his new acquaintance, committed to showing that he would not be shaken off by any sort of excursions she had planned. In that moment there was nothing that could stop Arata from ensuring this woman became part of his story.

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474 | 1505 (Social Complete)

Sumire scanned the aisles of the vibrantly colored store. The lights inside a little bright for her taste. Sumire would walk through all the aisles slowly as though she was really thinking about which snack to pick though, in reality, she was just gonna pick the one with the cutest packaging. She was also seeing how long Arata would wait before he finally decided to ditch. She vaguely heard him mention something about sour candies and her lips puckered in distaste.

"Why would you eat food that hurt on purpose?" She would call back to the young man before spotting a rather cute looking cake in a pastel pink wrapper. She grabbed two from the shelf before making her way to the next aisle hunting further for snacks. Sure it wouldn't have been a good idea to eat too much while she was as drunk as she was but Sumire couldn't find a reason to care. She rounded the store once more in search of more cute packaging but came up short. Everything else was ugly or sour. She looked in distaste at summy gummy insects meant to look cute but they only made her skin crawl. The horned woman would wrinkle her nose at them and then proceed to make her way to the counter.

Upon reaching the register, Sumire would unceremoniously dump her wares onto the counter. Before the cashier would got to ring them up Sumire would stop her hand and point to the wall behind the counter. On it was a selection of beer and amongst other things that would be rather popular to steal. She would raise her finger and point to one of the more sophisticated brands. She would look at Arata before ordering three and give him a friendly smile.

"This is one of the best brands you can get at these little places." She would say to him before digging through her pockets, to sum up, the Ryo for their items. As she did so a low wolf whistle rang throughout the store. Sumire turned around to find the source of the whistle. There stood a roguish looking man with dark hair and eyes to match. He wore simple tight fitting clothes and the light layer of sweat that coated his forehead suggested he'd done some form of work out. Sumire would wink at him playfully before returning to her search for the ryo to pay for her snack cakes and beer.

"What's a night like you doing on a cutie like this?" The young man would speak and slide in the space between Sumire and Arata not even passing the young man a glance. He would rest his hand on the counter further separating the two causing Sumire to take a small step back providing room between the two. The young woman laughed and put her ryo on the counter. She wanted to have her snacks good and paid for because she definitely wanted to see how this situation would play out.

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