1 Tea Time [Private/Izumi] Sun Dec 30, 2018 1:27 am
Yoshihiro
B-rank
Traveler's Log, Day 1 wrote:
The Land of Tea is not a place that one would normally think to write on for traveling. There has always been a common perception growing up that it and the nearby Land of Noodles, were always something similar to the 'backyard' of the Land of Fire. They always were sovreign nations, and yet existed on the periphery of their much larger neighbour's sphere of influence. They're protectorate's in everything but name.
When I set out south from Shinwato and the Exams in the week of respit between Semifinals and the Finals, I remember feeling as though there was a great weight pressing down on my chest and shoulders. To have come all this way, to suddenly be put in front of countless people as one of the 'strongest Genin', to try and find some semblance of normalcy- it all felt too much. I wanted to run away. I wanted to run some place quiet. I just wanted to find someplace that I could be left alone to think. I was tired to people.
The Land of Tea, is very well the place I sought. It took only a meager few days to get here, and since then, my travels have been enjoyable. This is a quiet country, an agrarian landscape of grassy hills and rocky outcroppings where the temperate air locks the people into a state of lazy summer days and warm winter mornings. The dirty paths or cobblestone roads are dotted with tea houses, filled to the brim of fellow travelers, merchants, wayward shinobi, and locals. In this land, tea is a way of life. I recently heard an adage from one of the elder brewmasters of such a tea house. He told me, "To drink tea under the same roof as another is to become brothers in spirit, bound by the natural energy flowing through the parse taste of Chammomile Herbs"... I don't know how true the saying is, but I'd like to believe there's something true like it. There certainly is nothing like it back in Konoha, the hustle of city living feels so very different to the relaxed way of life that these southerners enjoy.
I've come now to the southernmost tip of the peninsula. There is a shrine here that I wish to see. It is an old wooden thing, supposedly stretching back to the time of Warring States. There is an old legend about the spirit who lives in its decrepit walls. Whosoever plucks a leaf from the fig tree at the shrine's base will obtain a part of the spirit's good fortune, twice so if it is ground down into powder and mixed with the matcha of traditional green tea. Even if the tales are false, it would still be an impressive sight to behold. I will go there to see this shrine for myself, hopefully the legend will hold true for me ahead of my match. If Ting couldn't overcome this mystery opponent, then I fear I will need all the strength I can muster...Ever your faithful travelling partner,
ジョーよしひろ
Yoshihiro Joe slowly ascended the staggered steps of the rocky hill path, the scent of the ocean breeze rising up along the cliff face to meet him.
He had come a long way from Shinwato on this little weekend trip. He'd needed to air out his mind, especially with everything that'd been going on around him. The people who had come to the Chunin Exams were all so loud now, they were always so loud. The anticipation of the Finals was building to a fever pitch, the celebrations growing higher and more lengthy. It was hard for YoJo to get much sleep. He was tired of all the noise, beyond just the rancor of city life. He needed to get back to his roots, and that meant escaping the confines of Shinwato by heading south on the old road to the Land of Tea. That burning desire to explore and see all that life held was burning within him, drawing him away from the anxiety of the Exams like a moth to a flickering flame. It was for his health, that was what he kept telling himself. It would do his mental health good to just get away from everything and everyone, just so he could find some rock- preferrably overgrown with moss, and sit in silence and let time pass him by.
After some time of hiking along the hill-side path, the Genin at last arrived at the summit of the modestly high seaside hill. A large red and brown shrine was placed near the edge of the cliff, sitting idly as the blue waters beyond crashed against the rocky cliff face beneath them all. YoJo let out a sigh of relief, sliding his daypack off his back and stretching. His gaze was drawn to the large fig tree that had sprouted from underneath the shrine, causing the eight-foot-tall structure to rest at an incline as the trunk of the tree lifted it up off the ground. It was time to see if the tales were true.
YoJo rolled up his sleeves and pants, walking over to the old tree and climbing up into its branches, his calloused hans and feet clinging to the bark like a squirrel in his natural habitat. He swung up to the closest branch he could reach, gradually moving to its end and slowly, oh so slowly, reaching out to the thin end of the limb for one of the dark-colored leaves that were juuuuuust out of reach.
939/939