1 For the Soul [Private/Invitation] Sun Sep 30, 2018 9:40 pm
Maru
D-rank
An autumn breeze blew through the air. There weather was crisp, though the sun, which sat low in the sky still provided a warmth that prevented the wind from cutting through any patrons walking the road, particularly in the lower altitude of the hospital. Even with the warmer temperature, it was still cool. The air seemed sweeter here than it did in the main roads of Iwa, a nod to the lingering late summer that still tried to offer a cacophonous accompaniment the autumn breeze's song.
The hospital remained up the path a ways, but was visible from where a young woman was stationed. She was in the shoulder of the main road, overtly out of the way in case any dire emergency needed to be sped through. The brunette, whose hair was tied into a long ponytail that swayed in the wind was obviously bored-- her nails tapping to whatever rhythm was caught in her head. The nails clacked against the small handmade stall, with the word "Ramen" intricately painted on the side in bright, vibrant characters. The young woman's body, obviously the hawker who belonged to the cart, was draped lazily over the side, as she waited for a patron to come from one end of the path or another.
The afternoon had been fairly uneventful, the road heading toward the hospital had been empty save for the young woman off to the side. She had been posted there for a few hours already, and had only been passed twice, by the same man, a friendly graying bloke. The elderly gentleman had come and gone from the hospital, and had disappeared up the road early in her shift, but had been sure to stop for a bowl and conversation each way. The girl had learned of his fragile wife, who he had made the long trek to visit daily since she had been admitted earlier in the week. He regaled stories of their meeting, with hearts in his eyes, as he stared intently at the bowl. Love at first sight he claimed.
Even now, she replayed the story again and again-- the only thing she could think about since their meeting. Her cheeks were flushed some, and her lips curved upward, as she stood, allowing it to envelop her again... After all, what else was there to do on this lonely road? After some time, the fingers eventually ceased, and instead disappeared into the pocket of the white apron that was tied around her waist, a stark contrast to the orange yukata that was draped over her skin. All the while, her amethyst orbs traced the road one last time. "Maybe it's time to pack up for today... The world is too healthy for ramen I suppose." she whispered. The defeated look that came with such a thought wiped from her face quickly though, as she shook her head. "One more batch, perhaps..." she said decidedly.
Nimble fingers got to work, as she artfully prepared ingredients. The strong aromatic flavors filled the air, a firm reminder as to why she picked the road in the first place. If no one showed up, this bowl would be the one she brought the old man's wife. She had long decided that she would visit her too, and hope that a warm meal would offer her nourishment for her soul, as it had her husband. Otherwise, she hoped the enticing smells would lure a traveler to her stand instead.
The hospital remained up the path a ways, but was visible from where a young woman was stationed. She was in the shoulder of the main road, overtly out of the way in case any dire emergency needed to be sped through. The brunette, whose hair was tied into a long ponytail that swayed in the wind was obviously bored-- her nails tapping to whatever rhythm was caught in her head. The nails clacked against the small handmade stall, with the word "Ramen" intricately painted on the side in bright, vibrant characters. The young woman's body, obviously the hawker who belonged to the cart, was draped lazily over the side, as she waited for a patron to come from one end of the path or another.
The afternoon had been fairly uneventful, the road heading toward the hospital had been empty save for the young woman off to the side. She had been posted there for a few hours already, and had only been passed twice, by the same man, a friendly graying bloke. The elderly gentleman had come and gone from the hospital, and had disappeared up the road early in her shift, but had been sure to stop for a bowl and conversation each way. The girl had learned of his fragile wife, who he had made the long trek to visit daily since she had been admitted earlier in the week. He regaled stories of their meeting, with hearts in his eyes, as he stared intently at the bowl. Love at first sight he claimed.
Even now, she replayed the story again and again-- the only thing she could think about since their meeting. Her cheeks were flushed some, and her lips curved upward, as she stood, allowing it to envelop her again... After all, what else was there to do on this lonely road? After some time, the fingers eventually ceased, and instead disappeared into the pocket of the white apron that was tied around her waist, a stark contrast to the orange yukata that was draped over her skin. All the while, her amethyst orbs traced the road one last time. "Maybe it's time to pack up for today... The world is too healthy for ramen I suppose." she whispered. The defeated look that came with such a thought wiped from her face quickly though, as she shook her head. "One more batch, perhaps..." she said decidedly.
Nimble fingers got to work, as she artfully prepared ingredients. The strong aromatic flavors filled the air, a firm reminder as to why she picked the road in the first place. If no one showed up, this bowl would be the one she brought the old man's wife. She had long decided that she would visit her too, and hope that a warm meal would offer her nourishment for her soul, as it had her husband. Otherwise, she hoped the enticing smells would lure a traveler to her stand instead.