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© Masashi Kishimoto

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Missing-Nin (D-rank)
Missing-Nin (D-rank)
Ryo : 500

Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields Empty Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields

Sun Nov 21, 2021 10:52 pm

Garuda let a slight groan escape his lips as he had finished a yawn rolling into a stretch from all his extremeities rolling to the side to lift himself up off from the ground he had slept on the previous night. Traveling in no direction in particular due to not knowing the terrains and locations of any land marks had led him to this soft pasture concealed by deep tree lines and high grass before clearing into a path that he could not see where it led. Propped up against a tree who's roots had served as his pillow the night before he crossed his legs in the seated position to gather his thoughts and what would be the goal of the day.

I really shoulda grabbed a map from the merchants along the way when I had the chance!

He sucked his teeth while folding his hands in front of him allowing the flowing robes along his arms to crumble in his lap as he placed a fist into his open palm with slight force.

No use in worrying about it now I guess, "In looking back, I see nothing to regret and little to correct"....Or something like that

Looking up through the trees and into the sky through what clearing there was Garuda could see the sky was shifting from its dark hue and bringing forth the morning. The soft colors of an orangish yellow and sky blue began to take over more territory as night receded. It would be bright soon and the harsh rays from the sun would begin affecting his sight ever so slightly. He'd need to move and procure at least some sustinence and directions from the local populace. Pressing against the tree he used it as a backing support to lift himself off the ground, taking a moment to brush himself off using both hands to pat his lower area from any dirt and debris that might have stuck to him. Taking a thin white veil from his pocket he gently folded it in thirds creating a sweat band for his forehead while still allowing the lower portion to cover his golden brown eyes providing just enough protection.

The cool wind from the night had picked up a warmer temperature as the sun peaked over what he could see as a hill or mound in the distance heading east. The breeze had carried with it strong aroma of taro and rice, a subtly sweet but also pungent smell in a good sense if you had ever had the pleasure. Small rumbling pulled his attention from the smell to his forthcoming hunger as he moved to clear the trees and move onto the dirt path that led over the same hill the sun was summiting. Each carefree step from the young man propelled him forward as he kept both hands in pockets giving off an unassuming and also more importantly a very friendly demeanor.

Coming over the hill and looking down into now what was a valley of rice fields, he could see workers almost knee deep in a mixture of water and other nutrients moving to collect their work for the day. Some of the personel from what he could see had started their day before the sun had even begun to rise. He had read tales of the staunch and steadfast rice workers, often giving up their very lives to protect their lands and harvest food for their families. He welled up with excitement in getting to interact with such heroes of old from his books increasing his stride down the hill and into the village. Small huts littered the area sitting just slightly above the soft marshland they were built apon, smoke could be seen escaping the chimneys as fires were either being put out to allow for natural heating from the sun or being lit to begin cooking for the day. Adults and kids alike were stepping out from here and there moving down paths that led to places he couldn't see or some moved to their assigned field and began work. 

Umm hello...?

Two short words was all he was able to get out as he attempted to speak to one male that continued to jog past him only affording him an off handish look of bewilderment, or maybe worry. Maybe it was the way he looked or that he wasn't known to anyone here. Rubbing his head, naturally messing up his already unkempt hair his brow furrowed. A thought passed his mind and he smiled, he knew exactly what to do to garner their favor. Kicking off his shoes and placing them on the grass right before it turned into a downward pitch into the paddy fields he plopped himself into the murk and made his way towards a group of five villagers that were working in tandem with each other. Leaning in and over one of the males shoulder, he tapped him mid planting maneuver before speaking in a sheepish quizzical tone.

Sooo, umm, what are we doing and how can I help, I work for food

(WC 851)
Yasahiro Yagami
Yasahiro Yagami
Village Leader
Village Leader
Ryo : 3000

Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields Empty Re: Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields

Mon Nov 22, 2021 1:33 am
Inhaling the intermingled scents of fresh sweat, turned soil, and standing water, Yasahiro looked out at the unending terraces of rice waiting to be harvested. Cut into the earth like steps for giants and woven together with inhuman precision, each terrace grew enough rice to feed thousands upon thousands of people both within the borders of Tanbogakure and well beyond. Even now, in such uncertain times, the people of Rice Country took pride in serving as the rice bowl of the world for so many, and it showed with so many farmers, merchants, and shinobi alike having worked atop the terraces since well before dawn—they were on the clock with winter fast approaching.  

Sharing his people's same urgency, the Komekage's day—as it so often did—started long before sunrise with the ringing of a wayward alarm clock that somehow found its way to the ground before being silenced.  Unlike every other day, however, neither a gauntlet of meetings nor the latest crisis awaited the former exile. Instead of donning his typically shadowy attire, the man outfitted himself in what amounted to a mess of earth tone rags, the garb of a farmer. In Tanbogakure no one was above manual labor when it came to harvest time, even the Komekage or, perhaps, especially the Komekage.

All that mattered was the harvest.

Four hours had long since passed since the alarm clock mishap, and judging by the progress in each terrace, many more hours still remained. The former exile couldn't waste any more time smelling the proverbial roses, or dirt as the case may be; there was work to be done. Weaving his way along one of the many footpaths that connected the terraces, he returned to the plot he'd offered to help Granny Kei harvest. The elderly woman didn't quite have the youthful back to be stooping over all day with scythe in hand and sun overhead. It was the least he could do for the village's oldest kunoichi while she stood, or rather sat, guard at the village gates

Retrieving his scythe from the edge of the terrace and pulling his black shock of hair back from his face, the samurai cast a glance to the level below. Five people, some of the local construction workers judging by their physiques, stood in a uniform row swinging their scythes in a muted silence save for the odd swear that would slip out of their mouths when their asynchronous swings came too close to a leg or arm for comfort. There was a certain beauty in the coordination required to be working in such close quarters that one couldn't help but appreciate.

The clumsy showing of the construction workers, however, fell from the fore, as a lone figure wandering down the valley's main arterial road came into focus. Had Zukumiki—the warlord to the south—sent a scout? Perhaps just a straggling farmer behind on the day? Or maybe something else entirely? Squinting, the samurai couldn't be sure, but he couldn't take the risk that Zukumiki would take the initiative during the village's most vulnerable time with its forces up to their knees in water and hard at work.

"Hello, stranger!" the Komekage called out to the stranger as they approached the five moonlighting construction workers. "Why don't you join me up here? They have that plot well in hand."

If the sweatband-wearing, barefoot man made his way up to the samurai's terrace, he would be greeted with a half nod over to a few spare tools resting on the median between the two terraces about five meters from where Yasahiro stood. A scythe, a basket, and a couple of aged hoes; all were weapons in the right hands—the Komekage never once turned his back to the newcomer.

"Grab a set of tools and join me. I'll show you the ropes," the bearded man's next words took on a veiled edge. "I don't think I've seen you around these parts before. What brings you out all this way?"

As he spoke, the Yagami scion shifted his weight in an effortless way that seemed almost normal, a matter of course in any conversation. Keen eyes, however, would surely catch the unconscious widening of his stance and whitening of his knuckles on the scythe's wooden handle. The stance acted as both a warning and an invitation with a clear message: make a wrong move or say the wrong thing and the next crop will be sown with blood.

Somewhere in the distance, a songbird sang a cheerful tune.
Missing-Nin (D-rank)
Missing-Nin (D-rank)
Ryo : 500

Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields Empty Re: Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields

Tue Nov 23, 2021 2:43 pm
Garuda hadn't finished speaking to the male he'd posed his question to before another voice had chimed in. It came from behind him, the same direction that would put the voice directly in line of the sun and an high ground position as well that more so bothered him. What was even more intriguing was that the males he had spoken to still hadn't even turned around from their tasks. In fact they were now pushing into him as they stepped backwards in tandem with each other pushing him to the side effortlessly forcing him to move to the edge of the field, almost tripping and putting him on his rear. Turning to face the voice only at the waist he placed his right hand slightly above his brow letting it rest palm down over his eyes to block the sun. Garuda waved with his left in a violent motion back and forth over his head in the mans direction.

Good morning, Sir!

He bellowed back to the stranger, from his current view he still couldn't make out the exact dimensions or height of the person interacting with him. The sun did a very good job of hiding him and only providing a silhouette of what could be seen as tattered hair bounded and a decent physique. They were also offering Garuda a chance to help him with his portion of the work somewhere else. Perhaps it was to get him out of the hair of the others working so he was no longer blocking their progress or maybe because he wasn't known here they simply wanted to see who he was under the guise of getting him to perform labor as well.

Who, me?..Yea, I'd love they say "The devil makes work for idle hands" ha..ha

His laugh was awkward and forced to a certain extent, turning his body fully to begin the ascent back up and out of the slight pit he was now in. Still waving at the man he took one step forward unfortunately not finding his footing and the soft land beneath him giving way to his weight forcing him to slip slightly back into the water almost completely backwards. Luckily he was able to force his weight forward allowing him to grip the earth with his hands and pull himself out even though he had to crawl on all fours to his dismay. Once Garuda finished summiting the hill he was able to bring himself to stand upright, affording himself some time to brush the front portion of his clothing off that had made contact with the ground but also giving him time to change his facial expression from embarrassment from having to climb out as he did to that of a more friendly tone.

Hey buddy, how are you, I appreciate the offer...I'd love to help if you'd have me! I might not look it but I'm plenty strong with a good back

Garuda began walking towards him and could make out his appearance much more as got closer. Bland, the man was utterly bland, his appearance screamed drab which was a stark contrast from his hair that told a story of a different life. Tilting his head to the side and downwards from the sun Garuda would look towards the tools that had been pointed out to him and move to gather them. Looking at all the tools he could feel the eyes of the other on him even as he lurched over to pick them up. Throwing the bag over his shoulders and carrying everything else in both his hands he'd turn around to face his new acquaintance. He looked very awkward now with all the farm tools jumbled in his arms.

...Ah,'re going to have to guide me to the area...I sorta can't see all that well

It was a half truth, he could see but it was annoying to use his own sense of sight during the daytime when he could rely on someone else. Especially with how the vibe and feel of the male changed as he asked where Garuda was from. His stature dropped ever so slightly to change what looked like a normal man to that of someone who knew exactly what they were doing with each step they took. Garuda's blood boiled for just a moment as the Kaguya in him riled with the chance to try someone who seemed to know what they were doing in a fight. He had almost dropped the tools and shifted into a lung. He came back to his sense and realized he still didn't know where he was or what the topography of this place was. He played his entire motion off as if he had almost slipped and dropped things as he fumbled with his hands to gather all the tools again in a few sweeps with his hands.

Honestly? I'm lost, I stepped out of those tree's over there past this hill into the distance. Just trying to figure out where I am and....Those birds chirping are amazing! Show me your ways Senpai...
Yasahiro Yagami
Yasahiro Yagami
Village Leader
Village Leader
Ryo : 3000

Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields Empty Re: Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields

Tue Nov 23, 2021 8:50 pm
Yasahiro's eyes narrowed at the show unfolding before him. The supposedly blind man seemed harmless enough, if a bit of a clutz. However, many things seemed harmless enough in the shinobi world only for them to be quite the opposite. Charlatans, imposters, and veritable wolves in sheep's clothing abounded from the Hobuku Ocean to the wilds of Wind Country. When even the smallest child could be a trained killer it didn't pay to drop one's guard so easily lest it be the last mistake one made. In the end, a little bit of paranoia went a long way—far better to come off as prickly misanthrope than end up a dead fool with a dagger in the gut.

"Just follow my voice, and you should be fine," the samurai's stance softened along with his tone. "You're not the first less-than-sighted man to work these paddies, let alone the only one out here today."

He jabbed the thumb of his free hand over his shoulder.

"Jiro Okuboshi and a couple of other old-timers work a few terraces up," he continued. "I'm not sure they've been able to move about without a cane since before either of us were born, and they do just fine. The work is all about rhythm and less about clarity of vision anyway."

If the stranger did as instructed and followed the samurai's voice he would soon find himself against a green wall of harvest-ready rice. Each plant reached up to about both men's chests and swayed gently in the morning wind. Every once in a while the chirp of some unknown bug sounded from the mass of green only to be echoed by hundreds of bugs across the valley in an age-old game of call and response. And the smell; the smell of sweat fell away under the overpowering scent of what could only be described as earth—if one wasn't careful they might very well lose themselves in the intoxicating beauty of nature that dominated the terrace-laden valley.  

"Mmm, perhaps you may have guessed this, but you've wandered your way into the heart of Rice Country," the white faded from the man's knuckles as he loosened the grip on the scythe. "And, please, call me Yasahiro. What can I call you?"

He took a breath, nodding once at whatever name the impaired man provided.

"Now, let's get started. You'll only need your scythe, feel free to leave the rest of that stuff behind us for now," the samurai waved vaguely over his shoulder as he turned to face the remaining swath of greenery. "All you need to do is find the point where the plant goes from green to brownish near the base: this is where we'll want to cut while holding the top of the plant itself."

Taking a reckless leap of faith, Yasahiro bent his knees slightly and turned his attention away from the stranger for the first time since meeting him. Grasping the plant before him midway down the stem with his free hand, he swept the scythe through the plant in one clean stroke. The top of the plant pulled away from its severed base with ease, leaving behind a stumpy mess of organic matter. Tossing the bundled plant behind him, the Komekage returned his attention to his newest companion and hopefully not to the flash of a dagger.

"See? Nothing to it really," he straightened himself up to his full height. "We'll need to harvest the rest of this field before we can start the threshing process, but this is a good place to start. Give it a shot yourself, the first couple strikes are always a bit rough, but you should pick it up pretty quickly."

The former exile waved his free hand at the plant closest to the stranger before bending over once more and getting to work. From time to time he would glance over at the man by his side and if need be, provide pointers on technique. Otherwise, he—as he oft preferred—worked in silence only stopping every once in a while to wipe the sweat from his brow and check their progress. Yes, paranoia typically paid in the life of a shinobi, but living scared wasn't much of a life so perhaps it all balanced out one way or the other—was a long life better than a life well-lived?
Missing-Nin (D-rank)
Missing-Nin (D-rank)
Ryo : 500

Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields Empty Re: Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields

Wed Nov 24, 2021 10:10 am
Follow the sound of your voice ay? That shouldn't be too hard for me to do buddy!

Garuda's steps picked up in accordance with the male he had just met, keeping slightly behind him attempting to match his footstep pattern. They didn't go far from their original location in order to reach the fields that he'd be working in. As the stranger had said there wasn't anyone working in this area so it'd be the perfect training grounds for him to attempt the trade without any eyes judging him for his form or lack thereof.

Ah old timers ya say? I really haven't actually been around too many of them. he shook his head back and forth in a matter of fact way before continuing to speak. We should talk to them as well if you have the time after we're done here. I'd love to pick the brains of those who have been around the sun more times than I

As he looked into the field Garuda saw multiple stalks sticking out of the earth breezing in the wind as they swayed back and forth. Everything around them was new to him and almost overwhelming to the senses as he attempted to take each one into every one of them. From the sound of the seasonal bugs humming their tunes as they buzzed around, to the smell of a slight sweet aroma mixing with the earthy tones of the mixture in the murk they were about to step foot in. It all was exhilarating to be apart of the process that would eventually make food for not only this village but more than likely quite a few more towns and villages across the world they inhabited and it all started with this. While Garuda mused on this the man the man continued to explain where they were in relation to the world and who he was to make their interaction easier instead of calling each other buddy and stranger.

Yasahiro-kuuuun! Garuda let the word roll off his tongue in elongated fashion I love the name ya got, it says "I got power" haha, Rice country is it? They really didn't get creative with these names did's a little to on the nose if ya ask me....maybe you could call it " country..yea I like that one, even has nation already built into the word ya know.

Garuda nodded his head satisfied with his ability to come up with names for anything in such a short amount of time. You could say it was one of his better qualities he was blessed with and he'd make sure to use it well every chance he got.

You can call me Ga-ru-da- nii-chan he mouthed each syllable as if you were talking to a lover, his mouth forming each vocalization slowly and eccentrically so that nothing would be missed it's a simple word, no? 

Yasahiro-kun nodded his head once he heard Garuda's name which to him showed that it was indeed time for work to be done and enough antics had been shown. Once he mentioned all he needed was the scythe everything else fell down to the ground in a clanging noise as Garuda did exactly that hanging on to every word the farmer was saying. Each step was being memorized and the movements he took were being performed in a mimicking manner as he was being told what to do. It seemed easy enough but Yasahiro had also more than likely been doing this for quite some time so of course he'd be a lot more fluid and refined in all the motions. Garuda nodded his head in agreement while Yasahiro explained that it wasn't so hard and to give it a try.

Right, boss!

Garuda jumped into the thick of it with scythe held high in the air like a wild caveman attempting to ambush a wild animal for dinner. Feeling in front of him with his free hand attempting to find a free stem to grab, he played up his blindness a little more as he flailed his hands in front of him just slightly before it ran into a stalk and he grasped it firmly. Raising his hand once more, more than likely a lot further back than needed he swung the scythe with ferocity and little to no aim, which showed as he cut the stalk a little bit higher than Yasahiro had. Holding it up sheepishly with a creepily wide grin on his face showing all teeth

Again! he shouted with childish glee

Reaching for the next stalk the chop was much more calculated, and the next was faster, with the next one being calculated and fast. Garuda let out a sinister laugh as he continued to move forward cutting with precision getting closer to the perfect execution Yasahiro had shown.


Water was splashing behind him and kicking up into the air as his speed increased, it hit him in the face and splashed over his golden clothing turning it a dark brown color. There was much to be learned from this, each move and swipe was that of a trained swordsman aiming for cutting the nape or weakest part of a human. All things he had been trained to do in his early days from the clan elders and his own father, it was bringing back memories and it honed his strikes. As he continued to move his concentration focused in more on everything that was happening yet somehow he picked up a slight scream coming from the direction of west. At first he didn't pay attention to it as maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him. The scream echoed again and this time there were more people yelling something he couldn't make out but there were definitely noises that sounded like crashing and maybe horses neighing and running in the direction of the commotion. His senses tuned more to the commotion and his body tensed as the fighter in him took over, the scythe still in his hand raised above his head in stasis as not one part of his body moved.

Yasahiro, do you hear that..?

His voice and tone had a slight tang of concern in it as he tilted his head in the direction of the man he was with. Maybe this was something normal in their village and he was over reacting but he wanted to make sure he wasn't getting worked up for no reason.

Yasahiro Yagami
Yasahiro Yagami
Village Leader
Village Leader
Ryo : 3000

Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields Empty Re: Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields

Yesterday at 5:23 pm
After every other row or so, Yasahiro spared his new companion, Garuda, a glance. At first, this pattern arose out of caution, the omnipresent threat of an unseen dagger did wonders for one's awareness. However, soon his caution ebbed and gave way to veiled admiration for the progress the self-professed blind man made in such a short time. Where once his blows came across as clumsy and unpracticed by the time the pair made it through ten rows their respective forms became indistinguishable from one another. Even an old-timer, like Jiro, would be hard-pressed to say that the two men had not grown up in the paddies like so many others in Tanbogakure.

Somewhere between the twentieth and thirtieth row—Yasahiro had long since lost count—the peaceful pace the pair set shattered into mayhem. The wind shifted sending a wave of swaying rice before it and leaving the clip of hooves, the neighing of horses, and shrill screams behind it. The telltale sounds of a struggle, if not a battle, were rare this deep in Rice Country. Such conflict typically found a home closer to the borders, where Zukumiki's men had long since set up camp. Perhaps someone had simply allowed a horse to get loose? It wouldn't be the first time.

"Yeah, I heard it," Yasahiro paused mid-strike and cocked his head in the direction of the commotion. "It could be anything—"

The words died in the Komekage's throat as a concussive blast rocked the landscape. In the distance, the thin spools of smoke that once rose from the distant farmsteads took on a darker more sinister appearance as they expanded into dark billows. In the aftermath of the sudden interruption, silence reigned as all work in the valley came to a stop and everyone's gaze sat fixed on the horizon. A few screams and a loose horse might raise a few eyebrows, but an explosion this close to the village could only mean one thing: an attack.

"You five," the samurai's voice cut through the stunned silence. "Get people back to the village; I'll go see what might have happened."

The five construction workers in the terrace below shook off whatever shock might have frozen them to the spot and dashed off in different directions. While Yasahiro did not yet know everyone in his village by name, his figure had become recognizable by most. Even out in the rice paddies, the group of five knew enough not to disobey someone who they had come to learn rarely enjoyed repeating himself.  

"Garuda," white knuckles reappeared around the former exile's scythe. "Stay here, tag along, or follow those five; it doesn't matter, just don't get in my way."

Without another word, the Komekage took off across the valley, using each terrace as the step it was meant to be. Few in Tanbogakure could keep pace with him at his full speed, and Garuda would likely be no different. That said, following the black-haired man's path would be trivial as it cut a beeline through the fields towards the growing plume of black smoke—nothing would stop him from coming to the aid of his villagers regardless of the danger that awaited him.

I owe them that much.

In about a minute Yasahiro arrived on the scene to what could only be described as a disaster. One of the smaller granaries—the clear target of the previous explosion—smoldered under a dying fire and filled the air with the acrid smell of burning rice. A group of six individuals, each sporting the insignia of  Zukumiki on their person, stood over a pile of three lifeless forms. If there were any other details worth noting, they all fell from the fore with the sight of dead farmers. Though, before stepping forward, he cast a glance over his shoulder to see if Garuda had come along.

"You there," no emotion remained in the man's voice as he walked towards the murderers. "Step away from those people."

No matter the outcome, Yasahiro had already failed.
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Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields Empty Re: Harvest thine spirit, Rolling rice fields

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