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KenchiGenin
- Stat Page : Kenchi Stat Page
Mission Record : Kenchi Mission Logs
Clan Specialty : N/A
Village : Hoshigakure
Ryo : 0
Lone Companion
Sun Mar 06, 2022 3:00 pm
The application left to join back Nova was accepted at the table of his trailer. His signature is on it. Beside it was another document with Ayato's signature, a record that was a goldmine in Hoshi, an allowance for transplants based on the bravery he had shown in battle, and the injuries he had received in the name of Hoshi.
During his time off, he had discovered his bloodline. "I always thought I was a clanless nobody." He remembered telling his Kage during their meeting. They talked about many things always under the watchful eye of Ayato's Nova Corps that guarded him day and night, Dusk Tachibana. Yohei could barely stomach the guy; he did not look forward to working with him. The blue-haired playboy was an ever more prominent Pureblood advocate than Ayato himself, evident from how much he and Akabayashi Terumi hated each other.
"These boys had the same fantasies of nobility and ideological wars. Perhaps I had the same ideals when I was twelve. But I realized to defeat the enemies, and you must be as nasty as them." Yohei roared to his cat this time. A black and grey tomcat that had found his way to Yohei's life after the old samurai gave him a bit of food. One day.
"Meawwww," The cat responded with a yawn. The jaws open wide, showing Yohei a sharp pair of fangs. He stretched its front legs before uncurling and jumping down from the furniture. The Jounin's eyes followed the cat as he reached his ankles and started rubbing its head against them.
The old samurai sighed and rose from his seat, careful not to hit the cat. "I should get a name for you soon." He brought out a box of wet cat food from a shelf and moved towards the bowl at the other side of the room. The nameless pet sprinted behind him, meowing like crazy.
"Stop crying or no food for you." He said with the point of a rough finger, and the cat obliged. Once finished, Yohei left him and moved towards his kitchen.
It was the man's turn to eat. He reached for a clean pan and placed it on the hob.
He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a white box of matches. Usually, they'd be used to lit his cigarettes. Yohei was a chain smoker for years, but upon his reinstatement, to the Nova Corps, he had made a pact to quit.
Turning the gas on so high he could smell it, he rubbed the match and lit it up, touching the hob. A loud whoosh followed, and there was now a fire underneath the pan. He understood this was not the by-the-book method to use a gas cooker; however, in the world where ninja would use fire release to cool, it seemed mellow in comparison.
He went towards the fridge, took a packed butter, cut a chunk out of it with his kitchen knife, and dropped it in the hot pan. The butter begins to melt, making a noise similar to rain.
Yohei loved that noise. He took a bottle of olive oil and dripped some on the pan to stop the butter from burning. A trick the old Samurai Tatsuya had told him over a campfire.
He took a wooden cutting board and placed three whole portobello mushrooms. He reached for a knife, not a combat one like the one he had used so often in his life, but a kitchen one. It looked sharp enough to kill someone still, but the truth about these knives, even though they could cut, they were not designed to pierce a living person.
Tap, tap, tap, tap
The sound of metal against wood echoed in the room as Yohei chopped the mushrooms and green onions into tiny pieces and threw them in the heating pan. He pulled out an egg case, six in total, going back to his fridge. The average person would preferably eat 2 or 3 per day, but Yohei was not an average person and more significant than most. His omelets always consisted of six eggs.
Grabbing a bowl, he broke every shell one by one and left the yolk and egg inside the bowl. Salt and pepper, a little bit of milk, and then he stirring. He pulled out a clean fork and started going with his natural high speed before the yolks and eggs had mixed in a cocktail of red, orange, and yellow.
He moved towards the pan full of mushrooms that had been forgotten for a minute. The green onions and portobello mushrooms have melted to a reasonable degree. He pressed them with a spatula until they formed a thin but even line across the pan. He then poured the omelet mixture on top of it. Filling between the gaps and the side of the pan, a River of yellow had consumed both onions and mushrooms. Lowing the fire, Yohei felt his breakfast would soon be ready.
Going back to his fridge, he pulled a block of fresh Parmesan. In his free hand, he took a cheese shredder, and he put it to good use over the pan with the yellow omelet that had started to form.
Going back to his fridge, he pulled a block of fresh Parmesan. In his free hand, he took a cheese shredder, and he put it to good use over the pan with the yellow omelet that had started to form.
When the cheese had melted, he folded the omelet in two, trapping the cheese, the mushroom, and the onion between the two hot sides.
The cooking part of the breakfast was done. Now it was time to serve. Yohei turned down the hob fire entirely and placed the omelet on a clean plate.
He would take four oranges back to his fridge and squeeze them out in an orange juice machine to create them without pulp. Yohei couldn't stand the sight of pulp in the boot-shaped glass.
Fork and knife in hand, the breakfast enthusiast would cut through the omelet, the melted cheese steaming in the morning. Picture perfect was that six egged omelet enough to feed two people. But Hoshi Anbu made short work of it by himself. Gulping down on the orange juice, he would empty the boot-shaped glass and put it next to the plate.
Unfortunately, all breakfasts come with the part he liked the least, washing dishes. Taking his empty bottle and plate and the dirty pan, and the other kitchen peripherals he put to good use, he would place them on the sink. Closing the hole with a black silicone cap, he would open the faucet and let hot water rain in abundance. He would drop a small cleaning capsule in the water, which would expand into a cloud of foam.
When the faucet had been filled to the top, Yohei sponge in gloved hands would proceed to wash the dishes, wipe them and finally place them on a drier.
"Asshole." He muttered under his breath and went on to dress for training. The tracksuit felt tight against his pectoral muscles. Stepping out of the trailer, he took a deep breath of crisp morning air, filling his lungs with it for a moment before taking a step forward. The step turned into a slow walk and the slow walk into a steady run.
It was still grey outside, at five in the morning. Many people would be walking down the streets too soon, but not to run. Instead, they'd head towards their occupation of how they earned their livelihood. Not everyone was a magical shinobi that could summon spears of lightning and slay the gods of space and time themselves.
Yohei might have had the chance to go to such a life, start working in a bakery, and reassure the customers there wasn't any material they might be allergic to inside their pastries. It wouldn't have been so bad, he supposed, walking away from the drama and the violence for a quiet life.
However, he was a soldier at heart. His entire he had to spend with the sword in hand. From the slums of Hoshi during the days of the Old King alongside Akabayashi to his trips around the world with Tatsuya the Samurai. His service as Captain of the Guards to Temhiyat the Queen Regent of Hoshi, and her husband the Daimyo of the Land of Birds. To return to Hoshi on his own after hearing the news of Valens treason. A heroic mission that he thought he'd be undertaking if not for Ayato Hyuuga and his old friend Akabayashi. The world was rotten everywhere else, and Yohei had forgotten there were still good people out there.
"I will never hold my sword for a cause that is not of Hoshi!" He had proclaimed so proudly to the Seventh Hogokage. And with that, he had won Ayato over. Yohei was an orphan from the streets of Haven, and the Hyuuga a noble from a foreign village. Their mutual love for Hoshi and its people was what bound them together, despite their differences in origin.
Yohei kept running at a steady pace as he thought about all this. With the back of his hand, he wiped the sweat across his brow so that it wouldn't fall in his eyes and blind him.
Some time passed, and Yohei had completed a few good laps of the park he lived in before returning to his trailer, drenched in sweat. That would be an excellent time to try the hydrification technique. He had become more accustomed to it; he had to. Then he would have to do the same with the new bloodline that he soon would be gifted by Natsuki, the most beautiful woman in Hoshi, some claimed. However, her heart belonged to that Hoshimura bastard, Tsunayoshi. The kid had done Yohei no wrong, but he always mistrusted those with a Hoshimura Lastname, especially that cocksucker Vaenar. In any case, he would keep a close on Tsuna in the days to come, along with a silent prayer that someone would whoop his ass during the coming Nova Tourney.
Yohei wouldn't be able to do that himself, unfortunately, since he had already been a Nova. Although he did flirt with the idea of joining the tournament in disguise. He would be testing the metal of those who wanted to join his elite unit of warriors. However, that might have been a step too far even for him and rob the opportunity of someone who truly deserved to wear the beautiful white cloak.
"The realm needs good men." The voice of Yasaki echoed in his mind. The last true hero of Hoshi, some called him. If it wasn't for what he had done during the day of Valen's treason, the village might have burned to the ground. There are times you have to stand up to bullies, even strong ones like that Akari traitor. Or rather, especially the strong bullies, the damage they can do is astronomical. If he and the ragdoll had gotten their way, Yohei shuddered at the thought. There would have been no village left to defend, no honor to attain in the field of battle or the tournament grounds. But Yohei Kawashima would surpass Yasaki Uchiha and everyone else, as he would rise to become the ultimate soldier.
Yohei walked into his modest shower, naked and alone with a dry towel on his back. He checked the water for it, and when it reached an acceptable heat, he stepped under it—letting it wash the sweat and dirt from the morning run and any remnants of a hope to go back to sleep. The Nova could feel the water's heat inside his body as steam rose around him.
He took a pink soap smelling lavender in his hand and rubbed it across his skin, taking extra care of the areas underneath the shoulder and legs. A rogue shinobi or vagabond could spend weeks without taking a shower, and nobody would notice, but a shinobi in service had to be presentable at all times. He represented a village and its people.
Once he was done, Yohei would close the water and walk out of the shower. Grabbing the dry towel he had left on a handle, he'd dry his hair and chest and then wrap it around his waist. He had more weight since he had last fought. Hopefully, with all that running he was doing, his abdomen would go back to how it used to be. Although, he might want to go a bit easy on the eggs in his following breakfast routine.
Walking to his wardrobe and over the pile of sweaty clothes, he would pull out his new anbu uniform and perceive to be dressed. Once he had placed the final piece of the equipment, the armguards, he would wear the white Nova Cloak over it.
"It feels good to be wearing it again." He mused as he walked out of his trailer. The sun was shining above the beautiful village of Hoshigakure now. Yohei took one step and then another, making the slow walk atop Unseen University hill. The place currently serves as the shinobi headquarters—a place of duty.
--
exits
2211 wc
claims
22 stats
2211/4000 to Fuinjutsu third spec
During his time off, he had discovered his bloodline. "I always thought I was a clanless nobody." He remembered telling his Kage during their meeting. They talked about many things always under the watchful eye of Ayato's Nova Corps that guarded him day and night, Dusk Tachibana. Yohei could barely stomach the guy; he did not look forward to working with him. The blue-haired playboy was an ever more prominent Pureblood advocate than Ayato himself, evident from how much he and Akabayashi Terumi hated each other.
"These boys had the same fantasies of nobility and ideological wars. Perhaps I had the same ideals when I was twelve. But I realized to defeat the enemies, and you must be as nasty as them." Yohei roared to his cat this time. A black and grey tomcat that had found his way to Yohei's life after the old samurai gave him a bit of food. One day.
"Meawwww," The cat responded with a yawn. The jaws open wide, showing Yohei a sharp pair of fangs. He stretched its front legs before uncurling and jumping down from the furniture. The Jounin's eyes followed the cat as he reached his ankles and started rubbing its head against them.
The old samurai sighed and rose from his seat, careful not to hit the cat. "I should get a name for you soon." He brought out a box of wet cat food from a shelf and moved towards the bowl at the other side of the room. The nameless pet sprinted behind him, meowing like crazy.
"Stop crying or no food for you." He said with the point of a rough finger, and the cat obliged. Once finished, Yohei left him and moved towards his kitchen.
It was the man's turn to eat. He reached for a clean pan and placed it on the hob.
He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a white box of matches. Usually, they'd be used to lit his cigarettes. Yohei was a chain smoker for years, but upon his reinstatement, to the Nova Corps, he had made a pact to quit.
Turning the gas on so high he could smell it, he rubbed the match and lit it up, touching the hob. A loud whoosh followed, and there was now a fire underneath the pan. He understood this was not the by-the-book method to use a gas cooker; however, in the world where ninja would use fire release to cool, it seemed mellow in comparison.
He went towards the fridge, took a packed butter, cut a chunk out of it with his kitchen knife, and dropped it in the hot pan. The butter begins to melt, making a noise similar to rain.
Yohei loved that noise. He took a bottle of olive oil and dripped some on the pan to stop the butter from burning. A trick the old Samurai Tatsuya had told him over a campfire.
He took a wooden cutting board and placed three whole portobello mushrooms. He reached for a knife, not a combat one like the one he had used so often in his life, but a kitchen one. It looked sharp enough to kill someone still, but the truth about these knives, even though they could cut, they were not designed to pierce a living person.
Tap, tap, tap, tap
The sound of metal against wood echoed in the room as Yohei chopped the mushrooms and green onions into tiny pieces and threw them in the heating pan. He pulled out an egg case, six in total, going back to his fridge. The average person would preferably eat 2 or 3 per day, but Yohei was not an average person and more significant than most. His omelets always consisted of six eggs.
Grabbing a bowl, he broke every shell one by one and left the yolk and egg inside the bowl. Salt and pepper, a little bit of milk, and then he stirring. He pulled out a clean fork and started going with his natural high speed before the yolks and eggs had mixed in a cocktail of red, orange, and yellow.
He moved towards the pan full of mushrooms that had been forgotten for a minute. The green onions and portobello mushrooms have melted to a reasonable degree. He pressed them with a spatula until they formed a thin but even line across the pan. He then poured the omelet mixture on top of it. Filling between the gaps and the side of the pan, a River of yellow had consumed both onions and mushrooms. Lowing the fire, Yohei felt his breakfast would soon be ready.
Going back to his fridge, he pulled a block of fresh Parmesan. In his free hand, he took a cheese shredder, and he put it to good use over the pan with the yellow omelet that had started to form.
Going back to his fridge, he pulled a block of fresh Parmesan. In his free hand, he took a cheese shredder, and he put it to good use over the pan with the yellow omelet that had started to form.
When the cheese had melted, he folded the omelet in two, trapping the cheese, the mushroom, and the onion between the two hot sides.
The cooking part of the breakfast was done. Now it was time to serve. Yohei turned down the hob fire entirely and placed the omelet on a clean plate.
He would take four oranges back to his fridge and squeeze them out in an orange juice machine to create them without pulp. Yohei couldn't stand the sight of pulp in the boot-shaped glass.
Fork and knife in hand, the breakfast enthusiast would cut through the omelet, the melted cheese steaming in the morning. Picture perfect was that six egged omelet enough to feed two people. But Hoshi Anbu made short work of it by himself. Gulping down on the orange juice, he would empty the boot-shaped glass and put it next to the plate.
Unfortunately, all breakfasts come with the part he liked the least, washing dishes. Taking his empty bottle and plate and the dirty pan, and the other kitchen peripherals he put to good use, he would place them on the sink. Closing the hole with a black silicone cap, he would open the faucet and let hot water rain in abundance. He would drop a small cleaning capsule in the water, which would expand into a cloud of foam.
When the faucet had been filled to the top, Yohei sponge in gloved hands would proceed to wash the dishes, wipe them and finally place them on a drier.
"Asshole." He muttered under his breath and went on to dress for training. The tracksuit felt tight against his pectoral muscles. Stepping out of the trailer, he took a deep breath of crisp morning air, filling his lungs with it for a moment before taking a step forward. The step turned into a slow walk and the slow walk into a steady run.
It was still grey outside, at five in the morning. Many people would be walking down the streets too soon, but not to run. Instead, they'd head towards their occupation of how they earned their livelihood. Not everyone was a magical shinobi that could summon spears of lightning and slay the gods of space and time themselves.
Yohei might have had the chance to go to such a life, start working in a bakery, and reassure the customers there wasn't any material they might be allergic to inside their pastries. It wouldn't have been so bad, he supposed, walking away from the drama and the violence for a quiet life.
However, he was a soldier at heart. His entire he had to spend with the sword in hand. From the slums of Hoshi during the days of the Old King alongside Akabayashi to his trips around the world with Tatsuya the Samurai. His service as Captain of the Guards to Temhiyat the Queen Regent of Hoshi, and her husband the Daimyo of the Land of Birds. To return to Hoshi on his own after hearing the news of Valens treason. A heroic mission that he thought he'd be undertaking if not for Ayato Hyuuga and his old friend Akabayashi. The world was rotten everywhere else, and Yohei had forgotten there were still good people out there.
"I will never hold my sword for a cause that is not of Hoshi!" He had proclaimed so proudly to the Seventh Hogokage. And with that, he had won Ayato over. Yohei was an orphan from the streets of Haven, and the Hyuuga a noble from a foreign village. Their mutual love for Hoshi and its people was what bound them together, despite their differences in origin.
Yohei kept running at a steady pace as he thought about all this. With the back of his hand, he wiped the sweat across his brow so that it wouldn't fall in his eyes and blind him.
Some time passed, and Yohei had completed a few good laps of the park he lived in before returning to his trailer, drenched in sweat. That would be an excellent time to try the hydrification technique. He had become more accustomed to it; he had to. Then he would have to do the same with the new bloodline that he soon would be gifted by Natsuki, the most beautiful woman in Hoshi, some claimed. However, her heart belonged to that Hoshimura bastard, Tsunayoshi. The kid had done Yohei no wrong, but he always mistrusted those with a Hoshimura Lastname, especially that cocksucker Vaenar. In any case, he would keep a close on Tsuna in the days to come, along with a silent prayer that someone would whoop his ass during the coming Nova Tourney.
Yohei wouldn't be able to do that himself, unfortunately, since he had already been a Nova. Although he did flirt with the idea of joining the tournament in disguise. He would be testing the metal of those who wanted to join his elite unit of warriors. However, that might have been a step too far even for him and rob the opportunity of someone who truly deserved to wear the beautiful white cloak.
"The realm needs good men." The voice of Yasaki echoed in his mind. The last true hero of Hoshi, some called him. If it wasn't for what he had done during the day of Valen's treason, the village might have burned to the ground. There are times you have to stand up to bullies, even strong ones like that Akari traitor. Or rather, especially the strong bullies, the damage they can do is astronomical. If he and the ragdoll had gotten their way, Yohei shuddered at the thought. There would have been no village left to defend, no honor to attain in the field of battle or the tournament grounds. But Yohei Kawashima would surpass Yasaki Uchiha and everyone else, as he would rise to become the ultimate soldier.
Yohei walked into his modest shower, naked and alone with a dry towel on his back. He checked the water for it, and when it reached an acceptable heat, he stepped under it—letting it wash the sweat and dirt from the morning run and any remnants of a hope to go back to sleep. The Nova could feel the water's heat inside his body as steam rose around him.
He took a pink soap smelling lavender in his hand and rubbed it across his skin, taking extra care of the areas underneath the shoulder and legs. A rogue shinobi or vagabond could spend weeks without taking a shower, and nobody would notice, but a shinobi in service had to be presentable at all times. He represented a village and its people.
Once he was done, Yohei would close the water and walk out of the shower. Grabbing the dry towel he had left on a handle, he'd dry his hair and chest and then wrap it around his waist. He had more weight since he had last fought. Hopefully, with all that running he was doing, his abdomen would go back to how it used to be. Although, he might want to go a bit easy on the eggs in his following breakfast routine.
Walking to his wardrobe and over the pile of sweaty clothes, he would pull out his new anbu uniform and perceive to be dressed. Once he had placed the final piece of the equipment, the armguards, he would wear the white Nova Cloak over it.
"It feels good to be wearing it again." He mused as he walked out of his trailer. The sun was shining above the beautiful village of Hoshigakure now. Yohei took one step and then another, making the slow walk atop Unseen University hill. The place currently serves as the shinobi headquarters—a place of duty.
--
exits
2211 wc
claims
22 stats
2211/4000 to Fuinjutsu third spec
Shinrei YamatoJounin
Survived 2021You've completed the Christmas Event of 2021 and qualified for the last reward, by partisan you are awarded this fancy badge!- Stat Page : Yamato
Mission Record : Yamato's Record
Living Clones : Kanzaki
Ryota
Legendary Equipment : Jōki no Yoroi 
Clan Specialty : Fuinjutsu
Village : Hoshigakure
Ryo : 0
Re: Lone Companion
Sun Mar 06, 2022 3:09 pm
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