A Spider in the Grove [D-rank Mission]

Zinan · 1 A Spider in the Grove [D-rank Mission] Fri Nov 16, 2018 3:52 pm

Zinan

D-rank

EP : 7

256

Character sheet
Chakra:

(300/300)

D-rank Mission: Apples to Oranges:

Zinan sighed as he laid in bed and gazed up at the ceiling in his inn room. He disliked being away from his books and his scrolls, but he knew that the Exam Committee did not want the participants to gain any unfair advantage over their opponents in the trials to come. If he were to be allowed to go home, he could buy more equipment than what he had registered, research tactics to eliminate his opponents, or even get mentorship on a jutsu that he was developing. So, he understood why he had to stay in this hovel of an inn in Shinwato. But there was just nothing for him to do here between fights. He had already cleaned and polished his tantos, sharpened the edges of his kunai and shuriken, and made sure that his spools of wire were not fraying. He had stored some tools in the scrolls that he had purchased and even filed the tips of his makibishi to needle thin points. He knew the how many tiles were in the shogi screens in the room and could draw, from memory, the wood grain that held the rice paper tiles in place on the walls.

He rolled to a seated position. "I have to get out of here," he muttered to himself. Zinan had heard that there were events, like fair games and festival events, set up in the squares of Shinwato, as well as many booths that were staffed by chefs and their kitchen staffs. Maybe he could find entertainment there. The Kumonosu shinobi slid his legs off of the bed and placed his feet on the floor. He ran a hand through his shaggy, raven black hair and stretched his arms backwards. The stretch evolved into a yawn and full body stretch. He stood to his feet and moved to the small desk that the innkeepers had put in the room. On it, Zinan had been keeping his equipment pouch, emptied of its contents, as well as all of his tools and weapons. They were neatly arranged, all at ninety degree angles and straight lines from each other, and were resting on a clean, grey silk cloth.

He picked up the equipment pouch and strapped it to his back left hip. He pulled the cords on it with much force, forcing a slight wheeze of effort to escape his lips. Once he was satisfied with how secure the pouch was, he began to fill it with his tools. He made sure to place the spool of wire at the bottom of the pouch, but unwind enough of the metal string so that he could access it from the top of the pouch. He filled the rest of the pouch in three columns of tools; one column of shuriken, one column of makibishi, and one column of kunai. He kept one kunai out of the pouch and slipped it into a small pouch strapped to his right thigh. Zinan then fastened his two tantos, in their sheathes, to his person. One was tied behind his right shoulder blade while the other was tied to his right hip. The genin tugged on the sheathes to make sure that they would not come loose during aggressive or frantic movements. The last thing he needed was for his tantos to disappear in a fight, simply due to jarring motions. He strapped the five scrolls to his waist as well; three were strapped to his back right hip and two were tied to the front of his left hip. Only the two scrolls on the front of his body actually contained sealed weapons; the back three were for use if he had to carry something that was too large for him to hold or too small for him to keep track of. The last two things that Zinan donned was his forehead protector that displayed the mark of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, which he wore like a belt, and his self made bracers. The razor thin and clear web wrapped around his forearms and helped protect them from slashing attacks.

Satisfied, Zinan made his way out of the door. He tossed a few ryo to the innkeeper; he had laundry that needed to be washed. With a nod, the genin exited the inn and stalked his way through the town. The noises were chaotic; the sounds of dogs barking, children playing, and nobles murmuring were all accompanied by the sounds of mock combat or exhibition rounds. He snarled as he remembered the Hidden Mist shinobi that challenged him to an exhibition match before the Chunin Exams were underway. The snarky brat had irritated him to no end. Shaking his head to clear it, Zinan continued on the path until he came into a market square. There were several stalls set up that were serving food, a small fighting pit, and three or four fair-style games set up. He noticed, however, a group of people that were clearly ninja, standing around a bulletin board. He drew closer to the wooden sign and noticed that there were requests for help and mission assignment written on parchment, posted to the wood. He browsed through the mission requests and noted that many were for ninja that were of higher rank than him. One request, however, drew his eye. The Amaguriama shop was requesting help in harvesting the doppelganger fruit. Zinan had grown up going to the candy shop and eating their delicacies. During the autumn season, they always had fruit that tasted differently that they looked. Zinan used to make a game out of guessing the flavors of the fruit by the way they looked. Zinan smiled; he would help out the candy store. He read the request once more and headed to the location listed: the Small South Forest.

It did not take Zinan long to arrive at the forest. He knew the paths to take and where the shortcuts were. He had, after all, grown up in these trees. It only took him a few minutes more to find the location of the harvest. When Zinan had caught sight of the orchard, he stopped, frozen in his tracks. The trees were alive with colors of flame. Fruits of orange, red, yellow, brick, crimson, and every color in between, hung low from the branches, so ripe and full of juice that the branches were struggling to hold them aloft. Zinan dropped into the orchard and images from his childhood raced back to his mind. He was glad that he had played the guessing game for so long as a child, as he knew now what fruit to pick and which ones to avoid. Zinan took in a deep breath, reveling in the sweet scent of the air, before gathering up a handful of baskets.

He set three of the baskets on the ground, arrayed a few feet from him and spread apart. He set the fourth basket down, just to the right of his right foot. Zinan extended the index and middle fingers on both of his hand and crossed them in a "+" shape in front of his chest. He exerted a large portion of chakra and three clones appeared in front of him, each standing just a little left of the baskets that Zinan had placed down. These clones were solid, not only leaving shadows under them, but were able to interact and touch with the world and environment around them. Zinan looked to the three clones, as if he were inspecting them. "You all know what to do. We need to gather and separate the fruit into two groups. The first group is sweet fruits and the second is sour fruits. Do not damage the fruit." The four Zinan's nodded to each other and leaped away from their meeting point. Zinan was glad to be able to distinguish the flavors of the fruit by sense of smell. The sweet fruits had a crisp smell to them, similar to an apple, while the sour fruits had the aroma of lemons or limes. The Zinans were plucking the fruit that were so ripe, that they were close to fall off of the branches, and for the fruit that were a little more stubborn, they were using their kunai to cut the twigs just above the fruit, leaving little stems. All four baskets were being filled, one side of the baskets were nominated for sweet fruit and the other was designated for the sour fruit.

Once all four baskets were full, the Zinans met up in their original starting point. They silently swapped the fruit around, from basket to basket, until two baskets were full with only the sweet fruit and the other two baskets only carried sour fruit. They tied the baskets' lids onto them and the four gloomy figured leaped into the trees. The bounded from branch to branch, as they headed back to Shinwato, with not a word between them. Why would they need to speak to each other, when they were all the same person? The four Zinans stopped on a branch of a tree in the last row of the treeline and looked down at Shinwato. The town was impressively decorated; banners bearing the crest of the Land of Fire lined the streets, different compounds for the different Hidden Shinobi Villages were decorated with their village colors and crests, and the people bobbed to and fro, lost in the joys, sights, sounds, and scents of the Chunin Exams. It had really become a festival of sorts.

With another nod, the four Zinan dropped from the tree and made their way to the stall set up by the Amaguriama Sweets Shop. It was busy, with patrons lined up outside of the small cloth flaps, all waiting for their turn to enter into the stall. It made sense to Zinan now why the candy shop needed help picking the fruit. Either they were too busy keeping these patrons happy and full of sweets, or the patrons themselves were eating the stall and shop out of fruits and delicacies faster than they could harvest the fruit and make the candy. It could have even been a combination of the two, as Zinan stared about the square. Almost everyone had dango or some other delectable from the stall, both shinobi and civilian alike. With a smirk, the real Zinan made his way inside, while the three clones guarded the four baskets, their eyes piercing into anyone who drew too close. Zinan spoke with the man in the stall. "I saw your job posting on the board outside," he thumbed towards the general direction of the bulletin board. "I have gathered four baskets of fruit for you. Two are full of sweet fruit and two are full of sour fruit. I hope that is what you are looking for." Zinan had a hard time seeing the man to begin with, as he was bobbing in and out of the dining area of the stall and, what Zinan assumed to be, the kitchen. He was busy working with patrons and knew how to work the crowd. He was locking eyes with people as they ordered food, a smile on his lips that enticed people to buy more sweets, he laughed at the customers' horribly delivered puns and jokes, and acted like he truly cared for each and every person that came into the crowded stall.

Though Zinan knew that the man had heard him when he came in, it took a few minutes for the man to come to him. The shop keep pardoned himself from a patron that was monopolizing his time with a polite smile and pleasantry. It was then that the man turned his attention to Zinan, his green eyes widened and the smile on his face showed gratitude. It was the first time that Zinan managed to get a good look at the man. His skin was tanned and worn, though his hands and upper arms seemed paler than the rest of his body. Zinan realized that the man had a layer flour that coated his arms, most likely from working in the back of the stall, where the food was prepared. The man had dark brown hair that was tied back with a hair net and held a starchy, white chef's hat up. He wore a white cooking gown with a black, flour coated apron over it. Around his neck, he wore a bright red ascot that was tucked into his chef's jacket. "Many thanks, young shinobi! That is perfect!" The man hurried outside and paused at the sight of the three clones. He looked back and forth between the three clones and the real Zinan and started, "Are you three quad-" He stopped himself and shook his head. "Well, I suppose it does not quite matter." He counted the baskets and turned to the Zinan that had spoken with him. He handed a small voucher to Zinan, which stated the completion of the job. "This helps out a bunch. I will make sure to let the Hokage's office know!" He grinned in appreciation again and hurried back and forth between the stall and the four waiting baskets, bringing one in each time he reappeared.

Zinan looked to the three web clones and nodded. With three "poofs," the web clones disappeared in unison, leaving behind a rapidly decaying pile of clear, glass-like, web. Zinan felt the chakra, and the experiences of the clones, return to him. With a nod to the busy shop keep, Zinan stalked away from the square. Several people moved out his way, as they assumed he was in a foul mood. Zinan mentally shrugged, he had tried to change the way that he walked, but he always felt so awkward and strange when he did not move with a purpose. The genin sighed as yet another person moved out of his way with a snarky comment. He looked at the setting sun, I suppose that took up most of the time today, he thought glumly. He still had to play the waiting game, when he returned to the inn, to find out what he was doing for the second round of the Chunin Exams. He was disappointed that he won the first round of the Chunin Exams by default; his opponent failed to appear and a No-Show counted for his victory. Not only did the lack of appearance from his opponent irritate him, the other shinobi was from the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Even worse, the shinobi was from the Aburame clan. Zinan narrowed his eyes; the Aburames were the premiere insect clan in the Hidden Leaf Village and many members of the Kumonosu clan despised them for their fame. While the Kumonosu clan did not wholly specialize in insect control, many members of it work closely with spiders. That was enough for many members of the clan to consider themselves an insect clan.

Zinan arrived at the inn a few minutes later and entered. It was full compared to when he left, with patrons in the dining area, making a racket. Zinan tossed a few more ryo toward the inn keep and let him know that he wanted dinner brought to his room tonight. Then he returned to his room, unloaded his gear, and resumed staring at the ceiling.

[EXIT]

Total WC: 2566 Words
WC Used: 2500 -> 1 EP
Remainder WC: 66

1 A Spider in the Grove [D-rank Mission] Fri Nov 16, 2018 3:52 pm

Zinan

Latest topics