Misoka was well aware that she should be training whilst staying at the Tsumi Sand Grounds. However, she couldn't really focus; her mind kept wandering. Thousands of thoughts went through her head aimlessly at first until they circled around one specific topic: Her clan. And the things she had caught her father talking about.
With more strength than intended she kicked the training trunk in front of her. How could her father have hidden something so significant from her all this time? She felt deceived, exposed to a clan she had never really felt a bond with.
Her breath hitched for a split second, making her realize just how close she was to tears at the moment. But for once, this was all right. For once, she believed crying was an appropriate reaction to what she had discovered. This morning, a tall handsome man - introducing himself as the Karisuma Clan leader - had come to visit her father. They had talked in private while Misoka had eavesdropped curiously and unaware to them.
Now she wished she hadn't. Then again, it was probably better to know the truth. The Karisuma clan would be taking her away and marry her off to some rich and old asshole.
Misoka bit her lower lip, her fists clenched tightly. She remembered her mother saying that such a thing would never happen to her. In fact, it had been her mother who had mustered up the courage to speak against the clan's tradition of selling the female members. She hadn't been a female Karisuma shinobi for nothing. Everyone in Suna had known her as the beauty who could fight like a man.
But now that she was dead... it seemed everything had gone back to normal. The clan was short of money again and of course they took the easiest way to change that. Claiming innocent young girls and ruining their lives.
Shimayo winced as she pictured herself next to some horny old man. Her stomach tightened. Her father had been able to convince the clan leader to wait a bit longer. He had tried to reason that she could become a famous ninja like her mother and raise the clan's popularity that way. But she knew that the man declined the idea of her being a shinobi. He would come again, and soon.
"She's got the eyes," Misoka still heard him say in her mind although she didn't grasp the meaning of his words.
Shaking her head slightly, she wiped away some of the stray tears on her cheeks and figured she was done training for now. She couldn't concentrate anyway. When she turned around and looked over the training ground once, she spotted a boy sitting in the grass. Resting, it seemed.
For a moment, she felt tempted to just walk over and speak to him. She felt like she needed someone to talk. The next instant, she dismissed the idea, wondering what had gotten into her.
First, she was wary of males anyway and secondly, how could she tell her story to a stranger? He wouldn't even care.
She swallowed hard and then let herself drop to her knees, defeated.
Her hair, which she had tied up to a bun an hour ago, had become loose and cascaded over her shoulders, glistening in the sun.
Her clothing style was kept simple - a normal white T-shirt and short black pants. Still, her beauty was undeniable and lighted up the whole training ground.
And in that very moment, she hated it. She hated it so much because this was the reason why the clan was keen on selling her like a product.
OOC: Razor can just spot her and come over. :)