“Hooooo-wee. Is it hot t’day,” remarked Aina to herself, wiping the sweat off her brow with her thick forearm. “It’s boilin’ like a pot o’ miso soup out here.” Yes, indeed. Summer had arrived. Everything the same.
She stopped to glance inside her basket at the stack of fliers she’d drawn up for the Reptile and Amphibian Appreciation Club–RAAAC for shorthand. The sea turtles were starting to come up to the beaches to nest. The more people she could recruit to watch the nests, the more eggs could hatch into itty-bitty turtles to go back to the sea and continue the circle of life.
Plus, it would be nice to have somebody to watch the turtles with again.
For now, though, Aina reckoned a swim break was in order to refresh. She’d put up all the fliers she could around the village. But seeing as how a sizable portion of her neighbors were ninjas who spent most of their time outside the village, she figured she ought to spread some fliers around beyond its walls, as well.
Ah, the old creek. At her own leisurely pace, she placed her basket next to a log and proceeded to take off her clothes and fold them in a stack. In general, one should wait until they are alone to disrobe. Or at least, that’s what she’d been taught. To be fair, she’d had no reason to question it.
That was not to say she would mind being naked around another person. After all, it was one of the most natural states a person could be in. She and Mama and Papa used to do this together all the time in the summer.
Humming a tune, she waded into the cool, gentle, downward-flowing current before taking a seat on the soft bank lining the bottom. “Ahhhhh,” she sighed, pausing to let her skin get accustomed to the chill of the stream washing over it.
But as luck would have it, she was not as alone as she’d initially thought.
Through the murk and stream came a disruption of flow-a figure of black and porcelain who rose as a crocodile from the depths from behind her seated form. Water cascaded as soundlessly as he moved. To see this person would prove undeniable to his existence, to feel him would prove even more.
His gentle hand placed itself across the dip of her bare shoulder to the lull of a tittering laugh.
A bathe beyond the walls (lurking for something larger, to be sure) brought a guest for what was to be a first while he attended, and he had touched foot all along this body of water. And here Orochimaru was starting to feeling lonely. That thought nearly pushed his soft smile into something vicious.
This woman seemed to exhibit no sensory abilities, though the serpent could taste her chakara essence. A shinobi rat of the Leaf? Perhaps. In that case, a toxic bite and push under the water would do. Something else lingered for a different explanation of her, however, and that something led him to rather interesting discoveries. But whether that was useful or no, he could not say. Not yet.
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