Michibo sat on his old apartment buildings roof looking over some small festival or another. Some celebration of a time passed that he wasn't even aware had been today. Everyone below getting along so well and no one picking fights. Like everything was designed to celebrate everyone and their differences. He had never really gone to festivals as a kid. There was work to do at the orphanage and festivals meant donations. Donations meant food in his belly so festivals were attributed to work for survival for him. Not really something he was a fan of. In a way he hated the lot of them below. All enjoying themselves without a care like they didn't have stress filled lives. Getting up and working their backs to breaking points just for some coin to play with. Thats all this whole thing came down to anyway. Profit. The individuals at the stalls for the festival were selling things at outrageous prices and people were buying them. Things on any other day he could have gotten for half the current price were fluctuating based on how popular the festival was. His stomach rumbled a little as he smelled the heavenly food. Crisp and deep fried with lots of sugar were the smells he mostly picked up on. He wanted some but he wasn't about to cough up the doe for it. Instead he would dig into his pocket. Pulling out an opened bag of tiny oreo. Plopping one into his mouth with a distinct sense of missing out.

Of course he wasn't just hanging around to hate on the shoppers and vendors in the area. That would be both a waste of his time and useless. He was on the job. As a genin he didn't have a lot of work offered to him that was interesting but apprehending thieves was somethin. He had come in black jeans tucked over black boots. A chain running from the front belt loop to his left pocket suggest he had a wallet clipped to his belt. He was also wearing a blue long sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Hanging loosely around his neck was his head band while a black coat with grey fur along the edges hung on his shoulders. His studded belt had several clips along it to hold a total of six bone kunai along his waist evenly spread out. His grey hair hung unkept around his face as his grey eyes studied the area with a bored sensation. No one seemed interested in challenging the festival security so far. Hell every time someone actually looked up and saw him they would immediately direct their eyes away. He would smirk at it all if it wasn't so pathetic. This lot wasn't fighters. Mostly just a castrated bunch of sheep he was set to guard. Maybe this was going to be a lame job after all. If something didn't pick up soon he was likely to begin his nap.