Dari's Angel
Age : 25 Posts : 1767
| Subject: Seven Seas Of Rice [Travel] Fri 09 Aug 2013, 12:46 am | |
| The atmosphere that encompassed the village was, as always, a jovial one. Similar, in fact, to Saitou's home town, Konohagakure no Sato; but, much to his dismay, this was not the place in which he resided nor frequently visited. Nay, it was the settlement which gave home to his uncle. The youth felt that, on another occasion, and in different circumstances, he might enjoy a trip to such a place. Unfortunately, enjoying a trip with the nature of this one was rather difficult; he had travelled many miles under the guise of a civilian, as he was entering a hostile country during war time, to inform a family member he'd never met before of his father's death. It had been rather recently that the shinobi's uncle had contacted what he believed to be the Masaki's residence in the hope of finding his father, only for his letter to be taken by his now widowed wife. From there, it made its way into Saitou's hands, who traversed onwards to the distant land of lightning, to deliver the news to his uncle. Replying simply by letter had been deemed too impersonal for such a grave matter by his mother. And because of this, he'd been entrusted with such a potentially dangerous task.
However, halfway through this personal mission of his, the village had required his services to operate in hostile territory, and had informed him of this from afar via giving a scroll to a sailing cargo boat. On his first task, he'd come across some perils that could've been the end of him. The contact the village had arranged for him turned out to be a member of a local mafia or gang, who Saitou ended up driving a kunai through, after dealing with the boss or leader. Since then, he'd gathered very little information about the illegal organisation. The local town just outside Takama Saku had been rife with gossip about the supposed illicit smuggling business that had previously been thriving in the harbour had ground to a halt. Other than that, there was little else outside urban rumour. Oh, and Saitou also might have ate a pie with human meat inside it. Thinking about it sent shivers down his spine, but regardless, he was glad that he'd stabbed the bastard that had both cooked and fed the horrific dish to him. He'd watched him die, and felt very, very good about it.
Now, however, he was to perform another mission, also involving murder. Although, no eating a bitch this time. At least, he hoped so. He would have to travel all the way to the Rice Country this time, yet another country he'd never been to; and he'd also be going for a few days by boat. Thankfully, he'd met the time limit set by the captain of the cargo ship. However, this being said, his journey to the boat was not a particularly pleasant one; he spent the entirety of the walk to the harbour with paranoia setting in. For he had killed a respected underworld figure, and was highly concerned for his safety. Saitou would not be surprised if he had at the least upset someone, or perhaps given cause for a group of people to want him dead. And due to this, he had to be on the look out. However, he had deduced that he was indeed not being followed as he arrived upon the deck of the boat, which happened to be the only one in the port. With a sigh, he headed below deck, looking for somewhere to chuck his bags.
Over the next few days, Saitou would endure harsh weather around the southern Kumogakure seas, with strong waves that cascaded over the boat and drenched him in sea water with a salty tang, before it turned less sour as they headed east. Upon moving north, it became somewhat colder, but there wasn't quite as much rain, and the waves were calmer. The fresh air was rather pleasant and first, but the effect wore off after a few days. What soon became evident was the lack of entertainment. Saitou was forced to spend most of his time sitting about, or making nice with the crew members. They seemed a nice enough group, but he'd learned not to gamble with them; that always went badly. Most of all, however, he spent his time in anticipation of what was to come.
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