Halloween Walk of Shame [HFE] [IO]

Fri Nov 01, 2019 1:42 am

Spoiler:

Hi

Sat Nov 02, 2019 10:56 pm

“My lord, you ought to cover your head,” Atarashi told him as their sure-footed garrons prodded south. “You might catch a chill.”

“It is only water, Atarashi,” Ayato replied. His black locks of hair hung wet and heavy, a loose strand stuck to his forehead, and he could imagine how ragged and wild he must look, but for the first time, he didn’t give a good fuck about it. The southern rain was soft and warm. Ayato Hyuuga liked the feel of it on his face, gentle as the kisses of the mother he had lost. It took him back to his childhood, to long grey days at Konoha. Ayato remembered the forest, drooping branches thick with moisture, and his brother’s laughter as he pressed on the attack when they spared through piles of damp leaves. Ayato had taken Kaede’s gentle fist on the stomach, so much he had been sick for a week. How young they had both been.

Ayato had almost forgotten. In the desert wasteland of Haven, the rain was scarce and was replaced with sandstorms most of the time. Likely to kill a crop than nurture it, and it sends grown men running for the nearest shelter. Ayato was guilty of that once. There was no weather for a boy to play in.

“I am soaked through.” The old man complained. “Even my bones are wet.” The woods of Taki pressed close around them, and the steady pattering of rain on leaves was followed by short sucking sounds their mounts made as their hooves pulled free of the mud. “ We will want a fire tonight, my lord and a hot meal would do us good.”

He had the right to it. Ayato wished he had Akabayashi instead of him for backup, but Doctor T was preoccupied with a different mission. Instead, he had settled for whatever was left of the Nova Corps, a sergeant of Taiji Heiji that was one of the additions to Yasaki’s Nova Corps.

“There is an inn at the streams up ahead,” Ayato told him. He had slept many times in his younger years, traveling with his father. Lord Hibari Hyuuga had been a restless man, always riding somewhere. He remembered the innkeeper, a fat man with a belly like a keg of ale and stubble in desperate need of a shave named Jorys. The name was hard to forget. It sounded uncomfortably close to “your ass.”

Despite that, he seemed to have endless smiles and lemon pies for the children. The sweet pies had been soaked with jam rich and heavy on the tongue. Ayato had missed those bloody pies more than he dared to admit.

“An inn.” Atarashi repeated, “Mayhaps...but we dare not risk it. If we wish to remain unknown, I think it best we seek out some abandoned mill….” He broke off as they heard sounds up the road, splashing of muddy water, the clink of mail, the clop of hooves. “Riders.” He warned, his hand dropping at the hit of his katana. Even on the main road, it never hurt to be wary. Atarashi was far from incompetent.

They followed the sounds around a lazy road bend and saw them; a column of armed men noise fording a swollen river. Ayato reined up to let them pass. The banner in the hand of the foremost rider hung limp and soggy, but the guardsmen wore green cloaks and, on their forehead protected the waterfall seal of Takigakure. On their shoulders flew the symbol of one family specialized in mind-related techniques.“Fucking Yamanakas,” Atarashi whispered to him as if he had not known. “These are Konoha natives; you best pull up your hood.”

Ayato made no move. Lord Inoyashi Yamanaka rode with them, surrounded by his Jounin, his son Gin by his side, and their household guard close behind. They were riding for Takigakure and the ball event, Ayato knew. For the past week, the travelers had been thick as flies upon the road, shinobi, and mercenaries, scholars, bards with their harps, flutes, and drums, heaven wagons laden with corn, meat casks of honey, traders and craftsmen and whores, all of them moving south.

Ayato studied the Yamanaka Clan Head boldly. The last time he had seen him, he had been jesting with his uncle Shiki at his wedding feast. The Yamanaka Clan were close friends with the Hyuuga -not as close as the Nara or Akimichi-but their gifts had been lavish; the man’s brown hair was salted with white now, his face chiseled gaunt by time, yet the years had not touched that pride of his. He was riding like a man who feared nothing. Ayato envied him at that; he had come to fear so much. Lord Kirishima nodded a curt greeting as the riders passed, but it was only a high lord's courtesy to strangers' chance to meet on the road. There was no recognition in those fierce green eyes, and that son of his did not even waste a look.

“He did not recognize you,” Atarashi said, wondering.
“He saw a pair of mud-spattered travelers y the side of the road, wet and tired. It would never occur to him to suspect that one of them is the clan head of one of the most powerful clans in the world. I think I shall be safe at the inn, Atarashi.”

It was the hour of sunset when they reached the crossroads north of the great river of Takigakure. Joris was bigger and greyer than Ayato remembered, with his stubble still needing a shave, but he gave them only the most cursory of looks, with nary a hint of his smile. “Two rooms at the top of the stair, that’s all there is for you two lovebirds.” He said, chewing all the while. “They are under the bell tower; you won't miss meals, though some think it took the noise. It can't be helped. We’re full up, or near as makes no matter. It’s those rooms or the road.

Those rooms, low dusty garrets at the top of the cramped, narrow staircase. “Leave your boots down here,” Jorys told them after he took their ryo. “ The boy will clean. I won't have you tracking mud up to my stairs. Mind the bell. Those who come late to meals don’t eat." There were no smiles for the two highwaymen on the road and no mention of the pies that Ayato remembered from childhood.

WC: 1086

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Halloween Walk of Shame [HFE] [IO]

Halloween Walk of Shame [HFE] [IO]

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