#|| written ||

[koorinohebi]

I...made a meme. 

Because it was floating around somewhere. And It was funny.

@raixuma

[koorinohebi]

🆗

Drabbles || Accepting  “You pretended that you’re drunk? Why would you even do that?”

Kiomi stared at this annoying excuse for a human being, brows lofted and twitching. 

“Testing out a theory is all.” And it seemed that it was correct. She really did end up helping him, and even bringing him into her own abode. How careless she was, for sure.

“Glad, NOT so glad to be part of your little pet project. If you’ve nothing more, you can leave.” Her brows were furrowed, an obvious annoyance in her tone.

“Tell me,” Instead of standing to leave, he remained seated opposite from her. Kashin Koji removed the mask which barred a portion of his face that she was surely uncomfortable seeing. And he was right. She averted her eyes briefly, before putting up a veil of feigned indifference once their optics finally met.

There was a relative distress in her features, he could tell. But he continued to stare at her…curiously, seriously. “Do I resemble him? Your Jiraiya.”

Looking at him was like staring into a nightmare, a stark reminder of what she could never hope to have. However, she understood his question. They were past simple notions of physicality. It wasn’t just about his face, nor was it about his origin. It was deeper than that. For Kiomi’s alleged simple-mindedness, this concept was not something so hard to grasp. Not when this was the very base of the learnings she had inherited from the mentor she respected the most. Despite Jiraiya and Kashin Koji’s shared similarities, they were two different people. After all, denying a man his own identity was probably the cruelest judgment any living being could impose on another.

“You don’t.” The answer came simply; however, he did not miss the semblance of melancholy that lingered upon her visage. To him, it felt indicative of disappointment…such fragile and complicated feelings.

“I see.” Kashin Koji had closed his eyes then, satisfied with the answer. In a sense, he felt his lips curve into a smirk. Two words of reassurance. To think that something other than ‘Mission accomplished’ could have significant impact. And as for Kiomi who had only seen the man scowl at her existence, seeing this look on his face for the first time caused her chest to ache. Perhaps in her words, there had been a lie; if only because such an expression looked frighteningly similar to her teacher’s.

“The two of you must have loved each other very dearly.” At this point, he had refocused his gaze upon the female, only to raise a brow shortly after. He had never seen anyone choke on air before. Her flustered features shouldn’t have been anything extraordinary, but it felt amusing. “Was I mistaken?”

“Yes, you’re wrong! You’re very wrong!” She retorted, her flushed face, easily beating the most crimson of fruits. “Everything, this…my…they’re all just…” She tried to calm down as she explained. “…they’re all just…what I’m trying to say is…whatever they are, they’re all just one-sided emotions…” She looked downtrodden. He recalled Naruto saying that their mentor died while she was away figuring out herself, and had carried a burden none of them could share. Jiraiya had meant everything to them, each within varying degrees unknown just how much to one another.

Now learning that all of this was one sided, he looked at her with lethargy. “Are you actually an idiot after all?”

“Oi, you actually dare to call me an idiot in my own house. Besides, it’s not like I stood a chance against the person sought after.” It wasn’t a secret to her after all, that he had his eyes on Lady Tsunade. What chance did she have against someone who had shared in his losses, successes, strife, and victories? They had years of history together. Things that an outside like her could not touch. It was enough just being a student. That was perfectly fine. 

“Was what you felt actually so flimsy that it lost to someone else’s? Did you confirm it with your own mouth?”

The questions that bombarded her, matched with such an unexpected interrogator threw her off. So much that when she had come to her senses, she found herself face to face with Kashin Koji. If she was distraught earlier, then the ante had been upped. Trapped in between his arms and the wall, being stared at, it felt horrible and suffocating for many reasons that she couldn’t understand. “Should I teach you just how lofty your feelings are?” He lingered so close, too close for comfort. But that was where she drew the line. Steeling herself, she pulled her head back just enough to give her some room to drive her forehead down against his. THWACK!

Both of them found themselves clutching their heads, one clicked his tongue and the other was cussing up a storm in her mind.

“Don’t you dare mock me—“

She was on the verge of throwing him out, but there he was, laughing, collapsed on the floor as he held onto his forehead. She stifled her annoyance because she remembered how; pranks of the same nature had been done to her, by none other than her favorite mentor. And he would laugh just the same. At least sensei’s were a little more innocent and subtle. “Don’t laugh at me either!” She demanded with childish vigor, kicking him in the shin repeatedly. He fended them off well enough, which added to her irritation. 

“That’s enough out of you.” Finally, he spoke.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do in my own hou—hou—“ That was to say, if she wasn’t going to stop her assault, then he would have to play along. Grabbing her ankle when she struck, he pulled her over; just enough to make her balance crumble, bringing her down effectively.

“What the actual hell is wrong with you?”

“Even now, you’re struggling to protect what’s important to you. You may be a bit weaker than others, but it doesn’t seem like you’re lacking in persistence and perseverance. What are you so afraid of?”

Again with questions and commentaries that she did not ask for.

Her silence was enough of a response. Regrets, apprehensions, guilt, it was painted on her face. Shaking his head, Kashin Koji came to a stand and dusted himself, thereafter extending a hand for her to take.

“At the very least, come up to the starting line and show that mentor of yours your resolve.”

She begrudgingly looked at the hand that was offered to her. She felt ashamed and annoyed at herself because she knew that his point was valid. He wasn’t wrong, and in fact, he made more sense than she had wanted to admit. With an inward sigh, she took that hand and he helped her to her feet.

“…” Their grasp on each other persisted for a while. There was no warmth there; no comfort of a familiar friend, but there was a firmness that was enough to uproot whatever doubt it was that crept within the confines of her mind. She wouldn’t exactly call the other’s presence reassuring, but in a sense it was something remotely close to it.

“Tsk, just who do you think you are? Acting all high and mighty?” Compared to before, the scowl had turned a bit friendly, but a scowl none the less.

“In case you haven’t heard or have been mistaking me for someone else, it’s Kashin Koji.” He replied with a tinge of whimsy in his voice. Matched with that was a tighter grip on the female’s hand which she reciprocated in kind. “Kiomi.” She rebutted against his satirical introduction.

When they at last released each other, there was probably a reddening mark there, but it also seemed like they’ve come to a certain understanding. “With a grip like that, what do you even hope to accomplish?”

Everything that comes out of his mouth is a fucking insult… Kiomi mused, unabashed by such a sentiment. Still, she watched him retrieve his mask only to wear it over his face once more. “I’ve a scouting mission at the Hokage’s behest. Two days time.” He stated out of the blue, walking towards her direction, incidentally near the exit. “Join me.”

“And why exactly, should I do that?” Folding her arms over her chest, she asked.

“Learn something useful rather than wallow in your self-pity.” Just before he could pass her completely, the intruder halted to cup her chin casually. “You’re not outclassed by anyone, not even by the Godaime. Put yourself to good use. You are a Shinobi, after all.”

“What does Lady Tsunade even have to do with this?”

“Who else would you feel so inferior to? It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Besides,”

Finally, he’d relinquish his hold to observe her frame carefully. She was a slender woman, possibly bordering voluptuous underneath all that fabric. From the wrinkles and silhouette of her attire, he could tell that she was filled out in all the right places. Fair skin, a set of apprehensive platinum orbs…among other things. “You have the curves. Maybe not the appeal and self confidence, but you have the curves. You’ll be fine.”

Perhaps it was in that retort that Kiomi ran after Kashin Koji as he left her place, albeit with a senbon or two hurled at the man. “I was wrong; you’re probably as much of a letch as Jiraiya-sensei!”

The projectiles were caught between the fingers and twirled around like some kind of toy. With ease, no troubles; he decided to keep them as a souvenir. “How presumptuous, I wouldn’t waste my time on countless women.” He waved her off, walking away and finally disappearing from her sight.

What the hell is up with that guy anyway…? It was the last of her thoughts as she returned inside.

They started on the wrong foot, and it probably wasn’t going to get better any time soon.

However, they were finally at the starting line of their own journeys; making the best of who and what they were meant to be.

[koorinohebi]

Normally when I RP and go through a whole lot of scenario building with my partner, we end up making NPCs to help move the story along. One such is this lady over here. 

Her name is Tomoya, the owner of a rather classy boutique. Clothes, accessories, and even trinkets that will surely make every man or woman sparkle and shine. 

However, underneath this proprietress act, she’s a retired Samurai from the Land of Iron. And from time to time, does some blacksmithing as her main trade is the production of weapons and armor. Her goods are often crafted to look like normal apparel, making it easy for her customers to carry around their arsenals without being too suspicious. 

These days, she runs a shop called Little Cuties Boutique. Quite the charmer and enjoys a number of good books. Her favorite being, Icha Icha Violence. That said, she is a fan of the series and would often play up interesting customers to fall prey to her whims, to either mimic scenarios from her favorite books, or concoct her own if ever she has withdrawals. She does her very best to set them up, for the sake of a little entertainment. 

Her staff is also composed of both samurai and shinobi who share her views, turning away from a life of war, until such a need forces them back onto the battlefield. 

[koorinohebi]

The room was particularly small, and much like the abandoned rest, pretty worn. The walls had tears from just how aged everything was; and the floor? It was no different.

Although unlike the rest, this was probably the only place that seemed to have had some form of human care, not because it looked like someone made frequent visits, but rather because there was some ornate decorations that lined the table-- broken pieces of porcelain, a pen split in half, and an aged book that was far too fragile to open, among other things. There was a chair there too, along with a bed. "...?"

The mattress was occupied.

Curiously, Kiomi stood beside the said furniture and stared down at it, optics lingered, fixated on the shape. If this was the last body of those said to be Shiranui's beloved, there sure was a lot of care that went into it. Unlike the burnt and shattered bones that were unabashedly abandoned in a heap like some kind of trash, this one had been well pampered, enough to have been given a resting place. I've searched all the other rooms. This is the last one. She mused to herself as she reached for the covers in order to reveal the last corpse, or bone, or whatever it was that remained of whoever it was that lay beneath the wraps.

Thud

Kiomi's knees gave in, and she was sent toppling to the floor. Whatever energy she had left felt like it had been drained from her body in an instant. Had the girl seen herself, she wouldn't have believed that she could turn paler than she already was. Her mind raced, eyes wide as she stared at the corpse that was in front of her. I'm exhausted. That's it. This is just some sick game played by that goddess because I'm tired. She told herself in an effort to stay calm, eyes darting at the floor in the process. It was impossible. That man is as strong as an ox. Out ran her earlier that day. Too tenacious a human being. There was no way. But despite her protests and rationalizations, she felt the airways in her lungs tighten. Her pulse raced, breath hitching. I'm just exhausted.

She repeated in her head like a mantra.

"...!!!"

So why, why, even with all this mental conditioning did the corpse look like it did? "Why--why are you here?!" She, who had been kneeling by the bedside, frantically loomed over the body. While preserved, it looked like all the blood and water had been drained, shriveled but not to the point of non recognition. If at all, she couldn't ignore the other indicator that was just displayed there, too unique for her line of sight to miss. No one just had a metal plate with the word "oil" inscribed upon it. It was set to the side, allowing the hair to just fall upon his ghastly face. "Oi..if--if this is some joke..." She forced out a smile, touching the man's face. Cold. It was so cold. So dry. So cold. So lifeless. "Hey--" She touched his chest where nothing was left beating-- where there felt like a deep gash. Deep enough for her to feel where the tissue and flesh had once mended. "Hey--" It feels like her breath was constantly getting knocked out of her lungs. No amount of running could have beaten this. No. She bit her lip, hard enough that it drew blood. Her teeth grinding as she stood up, her eyes darting around the room as if looking for something. "I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THIS." Where was it? Where was that apparition? She marched out of the room, searching everywhere. Searched the places in the shrine where she had heard the bell prior; down the catacombs that were now devoid of bodies... bodies that she dutifully buried. But it wasn't there. There were no more chimes. No more ghosts. Nothing. When she returned to the room where Jiraya's corpse lay, he was the only thing there.

Without a single breath to spare.

Dead.

Lifeless.

N̸̦̓o̷̦͑ ̴͍̑ ̶̲̒ ̵̡͋ ̶̪̈ ̸̥͑ ̵̨͝ ̵̈́ͅ ̵̭͠ ̷̹̎ ̶̬̐ ̵̧͒ ̸̧͆N̶̙͒o̵̹͌ ̴̖̀ ̴͋ͅ ̸͍͐ ̷͍̒ ̷̟̎ ̶͇͊ ̴̟̿ ̷̩̀ ̴̙̃ ̷̡̎ ̷̩͆ ̷͎̂ ̸̠̔ ̴̩͘ ̷̥̾ ̸̖̿ ̸̟͂ ̸̲͒ ̵͉̒ ̶͆ͅN̶̹̏ǫ̸̑ ̷̳̀ ̷̫̇ ̷͍̇ ̴͓̈ ̴̺́ ̸̣͆ ̸̖͐ ̴̯̌ ̴̘́ ̸̢̂ ̶̮̕ ̸͕̉N̸̗̂ö̵̡́ ̵͔̈́ ̶̼͂ ̶͈̊ ̴̱͑N̷̠͐o̴̹̾ ̷̖͊ ̶͔̉ ̷͈̇ ̵̭͒ ̸̭͆ ̸̹̚ ̶̪̂ ̶̺͝ ̵͔͐ ̸̼́ ̶͕̀ ̴͓̌ ̷̼́ ̸͉̽ ̶̹͆ ̴̯͌N̶̬͂o̶͉̍ ̴̹̌ ̶̻̆ ̴̳̀ ̸̳̏ ̴̼͊N̶̨̑o̸̰͌ ̷͚͗ ̷̳͂ ̸͉̈ ̶͓͊ ̴̩̈ ̴̩̓ ̸̱̐ ̶̯̈́ ̴̬̂ ̵̳̑ ̵͖͋ ̷̩͠ ̶͓̃N̴͖̄ö̶͇́ ̶͎̄ ̵͉͊ ̷̭̂ ̶̩̿ ̶̞̚ ̴̮̉ ̸͙̄ ̸̨̛ ̴͔̀N̷̘̉ȏ̴̘ ̶͖̄ ̸̙͊ ̷̖̓ ̸̬̇ ̷͖̒ ̶̡̑ ̴͖͆ ̸͕̒ ̶̣͠ ̸͖̀ ̵̨͑ ̸̫̄N̶͇͊o̶̻̓ ̷̗̐ ̴̰̂ ̶͇̓ ̶̨͊ ̵͚̋ ̶̺͝ ̴̤̂ ̴̲͒N̶̦̒o̶̞̓ ̷͇͠ ̴͈̕ ̸̯̀ ̴̼̿ ̵͚͗ ̸̺̋ ̷̟̾ ̸̹̃ ̵̣̈ ̴͙̂ ̵̻̎ ̵͕̑ ̷̰̅ ̸̜̓N̴̲͠ỏ̵̻ ̴̭̈ ̶̧͂ ̴͍͐ ̵̡̕ ̶͍͝ ̶̩̾ ̵̗̃ ̶̤̏ ̷̭̏ ̵̣͋ ̴̗̔ ̶̫̍ ̷̼̈́ ̵̲̐ ̶͖́N̴͙͠o̶̫͛ ̴̜̀ ̵̘͝ ̸͎̊ ̸͕̏ ̴̫̇ ̸̫͛ ̴̺͆ ̷̙̽Ň̷̝ö̵͙́ ̴̞̏ ̸̺͝ ̶͖͗ ̷̮̉N̶̘͐o̴͔̓ ̸̝̿Ņ̸͑o̴̧̅ ̶͍͋ ̷͍́ ̴͉͝ ̵̠͋ ̴̤̐Ṇ̷̊o̷̜̍ ̵͍̇ ̸̡̑ ̷̼̆ ̴̳̓ ̴̳͌N̷͔̍ŏ̶͜ ̸̳́ ̵̜̅ ̷̼̈́ ̴̜́ ̴̞̕ ̷̪͛N̵̟̅ǭ̵ ̷͝ͅ ̴̢̚ ̸̙̓ ̴̠̋ ̴̛̰ ̵̤̏ ̴̝̓ ̵̬͗ ̶̳̇ ̶͖̀ ̵͚͠ ̶̧͒ ̷̥̊ ̵̯͝ ̸̼͘ ̸̖̂ ̶̦̊ ̴̡̋ ̸̝̑ ̸̠͊ ̸̱̈́ ̷̝̈́ ̶̜͆ ̵̱͑Ṅ̶ͅȏ̷̟ ̴͉̅ ̶̖́ ̸͔̀ ̶͖̋ ̵̥̊ ̸́ͅ ̴̰̾ ̷̳̉ ̷̘́ ̸̥͂ ̴̤̍ ̵͓̀ ̶͔̕ ̸̲͘N̸̦̿õ̶̜ ̸̹̅ ̸̤̅ ̴̬͊ ̸͓̔ ̸̠̕ ̶̫̐ ̴̪͛ ̵̜͋ ̶̼͋ ̶̖̍ ̴̹́ ̵͈̀Ǹ̷ͅo̶̖̊ ̷͈̏ ̶̨͗ ̴͎̂ ̷͖́ ̴̭̌ ̴̯̄ ̸͎͋ ̶̜͋N̵̟͒ơ̵̧ ̷̰̈N̸̥͗o̴̪̿ ̵̨͝ ̴͔͠ ̵̤̓ ̶̥̅ ̸̥̈́

So when she approached the bed once more, the light in her eyes had all been diminished. "Why...why am I the only one who has to keep on keeping promises?" It didn't matter if she asked the wind. The corpse. No one would answer her. She didn't want to accept this, but she made a promise. Bury everyone, to the last man. So she would do that, just one more time. Just because it was him.

Spreading the olden drapes on the floor, she'd have to make some kind of device to pull out the body. And when it was laid there, carefully, she would begrudgingly lift corpse just enough so she could behold him one last time. Her chest tightened. Why is it you? Sunken skin. A placid face. Compared to the annoyingly lively expression he wore, compared those brows often knitted with strictness when she was being difficult, compared to that almost childish demeanor when she fell prey to one of his tricks, this was unbearable. For but a moment, she allowed for the lifeless to tip over forward towards her. The last time that she'd ever hold him in an embrace that she would never forget. Who cared if it was a corpse? Who cares if it was a corpse? She grated her teeth at her lower lip more, biting back whatever feeling was coursing through her system at that moment. I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THIS.

Conjuring the seals, she made at least three kagebunshins to help her lift the body onto the wrap. Taking his hitai ate, she would place it upon his bosom, before carrying him out into the courtyard.

Every strike to the ground was like a strike at her core. The bitterness and resentment overflowed along with emotions that she couldn't place quite well. The only thing that she knew was that it was severe enough to cause her all this anguish.

A hole that was deep enough and long enough to house his body. Carefully they would fully cover him then with the cloth, before being lowered into the grave that had been dug just for him. With that done, Kiomi dispelled the kagebunshins before taking to the shovel once more. Her hands shook and her fingers quivered. The moment when she finishes piling soil on top of him, would be it. Slowly, despite filling this unsightly hole it the ground, it seemed like another was being hallowed out. Inside her chest, her heart felt like it was being squeezed of its very essence. As if nails were digging through the sensitive muscle, bleeding it dry for what it was worth. How could something that was not even an injury be so wretchedly unbearable?

'Don't make me live in a world without you.'

She could hear the sound of dirt as it continued to be shoveled into the hole.

'Then stay with me until you do.'

The words seemed to resound in her head as the soil poured, and poured, and poured over the body. "How--"  When all of it had been filled, she drove the shovel hard into the center of the mound.

"How dare you demand of me something that you can't even do?!" For the first time, her voice cracked and before she knew it, Kiomi's face was drenched by a stream of tears. Something which, no matter how much she tried to stop, no matter how much she wiped at, couldn't simply be chased away. All the frustration that she felt, all the shock, released in a cry that she could no longer hide as she slumped down over the grave. She clutched the earth and dirt that was underneath her palms. Again--she would never see him again.

“I think I'll be sad if I don't get to see sensei again.” The weight of the words, that she thought trivial hit differently now. Sad? Sadness couldn't hold a candle to this festering lump of void that was consuming her every wit and whim; that sense and reason she was trying to hold onto.

To bury the person that she loved with her own hands, she didn't want to do it. She didn't want to do it. Didn't want to accept this reality that was in front of her. The worst thing you can do...is make me live in a world without you...

A world without one person. Who would have ever thought that such a thing would affect her so?

She wanted to learn more. She wanted to know more. She hadn't even done anything to truly make him proud, even as just his student, she hadn't truly done anything that was worth being acknowledged by him. And now, she had to continue on with her days without that guidance, that kindness... that warmth.

I haven't even told you anything...

She didn't even have these tears for the people that she had left behind prior. But now, here it was, offered to just one. A lifetime's worth of it.

"Jiraiya--"

[koorinohebi]

“What the hell is this...? This is the most embarrassing thing...” She just couldn’t get a break from these overly eager trio. “They’re so annoying.”

[koorinohebi]

So what even happened to my Kabuki Themed Jiraiya? I ended up drawing something else. Still Jiraiya tho. Playing around with stuff and concepts. 

[koorinohebi]

Because Kiomi’s favorite hobby is to stalk follow people, doing reconnaissance is one of her favorite kinds of missions. And when she does this, depending on the situation, she uses quite a lot of transformations. To her, Henge, is probably one of the most indispensable jutsus just because it allows her freedom and mobility to do what she wants.

Kiomi’s henges normally involves transforming into other people, making herself appear older (like the above), or turning herself into animals; again it depends on the setting and the need. If she was to be asked what her favorite one was, then she’d have to say that it was animal transformations. Often times, she would turn herself into a cat because it’s convenient. 

On the lighter side, it was also really a good jutsu for playing pranks.