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After the Fourth Great Shinobi World War ended, the world was experiencing a time of peace. The villages for once were able to live in relative harmony with one another as they rebuilt, and for once, all seemed to be well. The kage were able to live peaceful lives and soon began retiring, passing on the baton to the next generations. That is until an unknown virus infects the northern coast. The first to fall is the once powerful Raikage, Ay. While many thought this virus was a simple mutation of what may have well been the flu, no one would ever think of the destruction it would cause. Especially when it infected a certain Uzumaki Naruto.
With his death came the malice; with the malice came the destruction; with the destruction came the shinobi' revolt; and with the revolt came the sacrifices. The Bijuu became filled with malice that they sought to destroy the world. Shinobi sought a way to fight them and once again capture each of the Bijuu. Time passed, and a plan was devised. The Jinchuuriki would be sacrificed for the greater good of the world, and with the deaths of nine individuals, an uneasy peace began.
As time continued, the villages began to truly restructure. In a peace that would last 80 years after the downfall of the Bijuu, the world would see the creation of a great many things. Technology was beginning to take root and before long the blossoms that grew from the tree of the advanced mind would bear fruit. A many great things came to be. A railroad between the vast many nations. Mechanical limbs to replace lost ones. Radios that could reach between villages. Everything seemed to be becoming less reliant on the shinobi. Only the need for them never truly vanished. As with the growth of time, also continued the growth of malice.
The day had come sooner than expected, though in a way, Sato had assumed it would happen this quickly. It was an inevitability for someone in his position to undergo, without having others to depend on, and it seemed that it may mark one of the final chapters in the voyage that was his life. His final days would be made or broken by the next few decisions of his choice, and thus the very fate of the Mist would hang in the balance. Today marked the day when the rogue lost it all, the day when he could clearly see the end of his rope.
This was the day Sato ran out of money.
While even delinquents such as himself were more than capable of finding work as freelance bounty hunters or soldiers for hire within the last few years, it seemed that a recent inclination toward disallowing nukenin such as he from performing these tasks. To pay a criminal to deal what would have to be a dirty deed was to associate oneself as the enemy of the major shinobi villages, and with their rising power, the thought became more and more terrifying. Sato was refused as service time and time again within the last month, and soon, the few provisions he had were spent.
Without money, he would have to return to the wilderness and provide for himself once more, a thought that made Sato snarl to himself. Rogue or otherwise, he was still a shinobi, whose skills would be wasted on such frivolous tasks as camping no longer.
And if they could not be properly utilized for missions, then Sato would find better use for them in an age old trade...
Cha no Kuni, being so closely associated to Hi no Kuni, was never a place of frequent visit by Kirigakure's ANBU forces, nor did Sato expect it to be now. Thus, it would make the perfect place for him to hide out for the time being, and possibly find work. Without shinobi providing aid for the country as a whole, it seemed to be the perfect place for the rogue.
Unfortunately, the Leaf seemed to provide the country with all of its needs, as many marked headbands could be seen adorned on the foreheads and arms of passing shinobi. Sato adjusted the hood covering his head as he strolled down the market square, unwilling to show the entirety of his face to potential enemies.
This would make his trade slightly more difficult.
He would enter the nearest restaurant, his stomach having pulled him in the direction of decent-smelling food. There were cheaper, easier alternatives to this task, but the human side of his mind desired something more than charred rodents and old jerky to quench his palette.
Besides, this would be a meal well earned.
"Oi," he grunted, slipping through the doorway of the establishment. "Is this place open?"
Ah, the hustle and bustle of a steady day at work. Customers trickled in, gradually filling tables and booths until the entire restaurant was alive with laughter and good conversation - and, of course, the savory scent of some all natural home-cooked meals.
Leaving one of her hired chefs in charge of the kitchen, Reina hung up her tongs and headed out to the hostess station. The poor dear she had had working had come down with something, and the chef had been quick to send her home with a quart container of fresh soup and get well wishes. And, until the girl's replacement arrived, Reina had decided to do the hostessing herself, still in her chef's uniform with a net over her bright pink hair. Even though she had built this place from the ground up, she wasn't too good to hand folks their menus and tell them where they would be sitting.
When a skinny young man walked through her door, she gave him the brightest smile she could muster - which was pretty damn bright. "Of course we're open, honey. You hungry, I suppose? I've got a prime seat up at the bar for a nice gentleman like you." She picked up a menu and a set of cutlery, waiting for him to indicate that yes, he did intend to eat here.
The poor thing looked too skinny for his own good, and Reina wasn't going to let him leave without putting a little more meat on those bones of his.
His hardened eyes fell upon a woman approaching the rogue, approaching him in a beeline manner. It was these kinds of people that put Sato on edge; those that wouldn't hesitate in getting close to him. More often than not, it was these people who hid behind bright smiles, with blades aimed to take his life hidden within their skillful palms.
A quiver of his hand nearly drew his own blade from its hiding place, were the instinct not halted by its owner.
The hostess was...soft looking. Round-faced. Girly. She was nothing like the females he knew within the Mist, most of which were pale with wiry hair. This one had skin that met the sun often, and a warmth that roused a alien uncomfortability within the rogue.
And calling him a 'gentleman' sent a cold shock into the rogue's gut. It was a word nobody had ever called him before, and in truth, it felt ill suited for someone of his trade. Sato couldn't think of himself as anything related to 'gentle'; was that just the vibe he gave off to others? Or just to this woman?
She didn't seem like an enemy, but she put Sato on edge.
"Okay," he answered bluntly, a stoic expression painted across his hooded face. His hands would rise cautiously, drawing back the material hanging over his head to reveal a messy valley of snow white hair. This place seemed somewhat safe, after all.
Reina gestured for him to follow her, weaving through the throngs of people with practiced finesse. She placed his menu on the end of the bar, giving him a stool right next to the wall - nice and close to the kitchen so he could smell everything that was cooking inside, and hopefully would entice him into ordering a whole lot of food. No man should be that damn skinny.
"Alright, hon, take a gander at that. I'll be back in a minute to get your drink order." She patted him on the arm and sauntered off into the kitchen. After a quick chat with one of the cooks, and a short wait, she returned to the white-haired man with a plate of tempura and stuffed tofu bites and put it down in front of him.
"On the house, sweetie. What can I get you to drink?"
That's right. There were usually other people at these kinds of things, as Sato would see in his swim through the bustling groups of gathered hungerers. He would leave gifted smiles unrequited, and trade glares with those who hadn't taken to the rogue's scarred appearance. Damn. This wouldn't bode well if Sato were to conduct his 'trade' here with so many other people.
Before he could do anything that he would regret, it seemed the hostess had found Sato's stool for him, which he would accept silently. Though as he would attempt to make his demands for food known, she had already vanished, mentioning something about a drink. "Hmph," he huffed coldly, resting his elbows upon the bar's edge.
Though just as he was getting himself comfortable, she seemed to reappear, startling the rogue. This female was incredibly quick despite her softness, making the man slide himself slightly away from her in his stool.
The woman bestowed a plate of battered fish and curds of soy in front of Sato. Neither were the true colors of the man's palette, but it beat his usual diet right out the door. He wouldn't have hesitated in burrowing into this meal were it not for the woman declaring it 'on the house', words that would stop Sato in his tracks.
His mismatched eyes rose to meet hers, with uncertainty clouding his vision of her true intentions. This was far more hospitality than Sato had ever experienced in a restaurant, where most expected the man to be inclined toward poor nature and requested immediate payment. And yet this woman gave him a hot meal without expecting anything in return.
Such kindness did not exist in this world. What was this?
Blinking himself out of his thoughts and back into reality, the Hozuki would recall the words he had just missed; something again to do with a drink. "Water," he spoke softly, averting his eyes from the woman's. "Just water."
This was an odd situation indeed, Sato thought, picking at his food with his chopsticks.
Reina's sharp eyes caught how he inched away from her on his stool. A lot of people that came in here were surprised by her agility; the large majority of them were civilians who had never seen a shinobi up close. "Sorry if I startled you, hon," she commented, patting him on the shoulder.
Her expression softened when his eyes met hers. To be so wary of a stranger's kindness, there had to be more to him - he wasn't just another ordinary patron of her restaurant. She decided then that she was going to figure out just what about him she wasn't seeing, even if it meant she had to badger him a bit.
"Darling, I ain't never seen such a skinny man in all my life," she drawled, shaking her head disapprovingly as if she were scolding an ill-behaved child. "You eat up, I'll get you your water, and you can give the menu a look-see and decide what you want." Her tone made it clear that his acceptance of her gift was not optional; he was damn well going to eat it, even if she had to pin him and stuff the food down his throat. Well, perhaps she wouldn't go quite that far, but it would be something pretty close.
She returned swiftly with a glass of water and set it down in front of him, waiting patiently for his order.
Even glances dared to meet the woman's eyes were met with a stinging warmth that clashed with the nature of his glares, making his eye contact with the generous hostess mere flicks of his iris in her general direction. Perhaps she was not an agent with a dark intention aimed at his life, but instead a soul so kind that her existence could easily be put into question. The evasiveness Sato felt in engaging the woman came not from distrust, but from the emotional friction felt when confronting someone of such an opposing nature.
"Sure," he answered softly, an unnerved finger rising to run along the length of his branching scar.
Within combat, the man knew tactics to take down any man. When on a mission, the ex-ANBU could infiltrate nearly any stronghold and countermaneuver any psychological defenses placed on those whom he interrogated. Sato was trained to handle humans, to know everything that makes them who they are, to kill them.
And yet, when placed before an angel, he could feel his strong and cold disposition falling apart. It was an embarrassment, as well as it was painful to his icy pride.
His chopsticks snagged a formless loaf of his rice, slowly bringing it to his lips. A rich and almost alcoholic warmth shimmered across his tongue; it was the first taste of fresh and real food the man had experienced for what had to be weeks. Pride and caution aside, Sato could not keep himself from barreling more and more food into his maw, having to stop just to make sure swallowing was still an option.
Just as quickly as the grains went down, so too did the fried fish provided for him, their crisped tails crackling betwixt his carnivorous teeth. In truth, no matter how small it seemed, such a meal could be called a feast to the rogue, and he would not argue against it. This was...
It was wonderful, in an alien way.
Sato sat himself up after his scarfing, a breathy belch escaping his lips. A part of him realized what it would mean for the woman to hear he would have no money, and that such generosity would have been unfortunate to be wasted on his callous nature. It would be easy to simply leave now before he would take more from here, wouldn't it?
Though it wasn't as if this was to spare this woman her feelings or anything; it would just be easier to Sato to slink out than to stay. That was all.
Slowly but surely, the rogue would begin to slide himself from his seat, nearly finding his footing to stand before making one last check on the woman working in the back, to which he was greeted by her presence and a moist glass of water. His eyes met hers once again before being cast away, the brightness of her expecting expression casting away his shadowy gaze.
That was right; she had offered him water. But now she expected more of him, didn't she? A meal to go with the 'appetizer', so to speak. A meal that Sato would not be able to pay for.
And despite that being a very real possibility, given his appearance, she still waited for him patiently.
"Why-..." he began softly, before clearing his throat.
Stopping himself, Sato would return to a mumble with a sigh.
"More of what you brought out." He would brave a look into her eyes, despite how anxious his own would seem. Though the longer he looked into her eyes, the longer it seemed he could. And comfort would soon follow this realization, one he had yet to feel since his very early childhood.
As she went about her work, she always had one eye on this mysterious man that seemed shock by the kindness of a stranger. He ate like he was starving, the poor thing; she wouldn't have been surprised to discover that he had no income for this or that reason. And she decided at that moment that whatever else he ordered to eat was on the house. Reina wasn't the type to turn away someone that couldn't pay; she thanked her lucky stars every day that she had never been in that situation herself, but it sure as hell didn't give her the right to look down on those who were less fortunate.
She looked at him, a sad expression in her eyes. "Because I care, hon. The world's been kind to me so I figure I oughta be kind to the world in return. I'll go get you more food, and you had damn well be here when I get back." Her sharp gaze didn't miss a thing.
Reina bustled away into the kitchen, giving orders to her chefs. The three of them put together another plate of appetizers, a bowl of rice, some miso soup, and a piece of grilled fish. She carried it all out on a big tray, and started to set all the separate dishes down in front of him. He was going to eat it all and he was going to like it.
With this odd sense of hospitality aimed toward him came a strange dread that simmered forth from the woman's warning. Even if she seemed nice, her mention of disapproving of his leaving prematurely felt nearly genuine. She was incredibly insistent on Sato remaining in his seat, even if he may have had no money to pay. Was this her way of guaranteeing her customers pay their bill?
The woman would be in for a surprise if that was the case.
"I can leave when I feel like it," he challenged with a growl, his eyes now fixated onto her own before the woman would leave for food. A sharp snort escaped his nostrils in her absence, as the man picked the last few grains of rice from his plate.
Though when the food would be brought out, Sato couldn't help but lean back from the plentiful plethora of pleasant plates placed before him. It was almost too much food. There wouldn't be a way in hell for even someone as ravenous as the rogue to finish it all, let alone pay for it.
"Wha-...no. I can't," he insisted, fire in the glare sent his hostess' way. "You can't be serious, kid."
"Somebody's awfully crabby today. Settle down, sweetheart." Reina gave him a pointed look before she disappeared back into the kitchen - the kind of look that said 'your ass had damn well better be on that stool when I get back or god help you.'
She set the empty tray on another section of the bar and returned his glare in equal measure, hands on her hips. Her eyes said 'oh no you did not.' If the rogue wasn't already a little afraid of the diminutive woman, well he sure as hell should be. "I have never in my life met such an ungrateful man," she scolded. "I am offering you free food from the restaurant I built from the ground up out of the kindness of my heart because I don't believe in turning away folks just because they're less fortunate than others. If you're too blind to see that, I very well might have to smack some sense into you, boy."
The woman grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him down to look her in the eye. "Now listen here, you. You are gonna sit your ass down. You are going to eat the food that I cooked for you. And you are going to like it. Now, if you don't listen, I might well have to tie you down and force-feed you, and you wouldn't like that, now would you?"
She released him and crossed her arms over her chest, giving him the eye. "You don't want to mess with a woman like me, darling."
Once soft and smooth hands wrenched tightly at the collar of the rogue's jacket, pulling the lanky Hozuki across the bar top with relative ease. Despite her womanly features, soft and curvaceous as Sato was always taught, this particular individual possessed immense strength. This wasn't the kind of physical prowess seen within normal civilians, though...
His ears would fall deaf to her ranting, as his mismatched eyes glared back into hers with daggering rage just as hers would. Could she be a shinobi? The last one he encountered nearly cost him his sanctuary; it left him without his once-safe shelter to rely on, which brought him here in the first place. Were he to encounter one in a place like this, and a death sentence may be looming its way over the criminal in the near future.
All the while, his hands ached to reveal the steel hidden beneath his wrappings and end her onslaught of oral attacks--a single twitch of his wrist was all it would take to fill her mouth with scarlet ichor and silence her for good. But a daunting instinct kept his nerves frozen, kept his muscles from enacting what he would have done on any other person; he would just glare back for the time being.
A rough shove placed the man back into his seat, the transaction between the two having roused some attention from the rest at the bar. Chuckles dared not to rise above the omnipotent volume of the restaurant, in fear that the dangerous looking individual would catch wind; he still caught them in the end, regardless of their efforts.
Sato took a moment to look at his food, remensicing on the remnants of what he could recall the woman saying. The specifics were unclear, but the message was obvious: eat the food, or she would force him to. With her kind of strength, it was not unexpected that she could do that very deed to a man.
But to the rogue, it was not a threat, but instead a challenge. His eyes rose back to meet hers. And, in the same sense, it was a way to get himself out this place.
"And perhaps, I'm not a man you wish to mess with."
Though he remained sitting, the soles of his feet would rest flat upon the ground, in preparation for just what may come. He could not reveal his killing intent, at least not just yet; he had to be sure of what she was.
"So let's agree to disagree. Unless you're true to your word."
Oh, she could tell that he hadn't listened to a damn word that had come out of her mouth, and she was madder than hell. Oh no he had not. Such disrespect was unheard of to the pink-haired woman. If looks could kill... man, he would sure be wishing he was dead already. The regular customers at the bar were starting to vacate their seats at the look on her face, because they knew what was coming next. Some kind soul even moved the man's food out of the way.
The woman hauled him over the bar and pushed him against the wall behind her, fishing a wooden spoon out of her apron. "Now you listen to me, you disrespectful little shit. You do not want to mess with me." Now she was proving a point. She channeled chakra into her fist and smashed it into the bar, the wood cracking away underneath her strength. There was a crater in the solid wood that definitely should not have been humanly possible. "Do you want to take it back and sit down and eat like a good boy, or do you want me to break your kneecaps and feed it to you?"
The hostess was keen on dragging the rogue around in her acts of frustration, her hand swinging the lithe man over the tall bartop and against the solidity of the adjacent wall. He hit the surface with an audible 'thud', though even while being manhandled--womanhandled?--Sato would keep his bitter expression fixated antagonistically. She certainly seemed more insistent that he ate rather than complied; just what was it she was after in him? Who was this motherly?
"Kid-...."
Though before he could finish what was started, the woman swung a point blank fist back toward the bar, a visible cracking crater being created from the sheer force of her strike. It was enough to light some surprise in the shinobi's eyes; he assumed her to be of great strength, but was not expecting that level of power. It was not human.
Or rather, it was shinobi.
His eyes slowly rose to meet hers, hardening with anger. But even with the rage, there was a sense of attraction forming form within the Hozuki. Her words were curt, but they were an outlet for what had to be an oppressed sense of sadism--albeit, it was coated in a dark sense of compassion. She threatened to batter his body and feed him the products; it was as disgusting as it was excitably tempting. This was a joy that only a hunter such as Sato could relate to, one that came from the satisfaction of superiority and violence.
The woman was willing to harm him. But would she? A smile--whose manic nature was fought to be suppressed--would slowly spread across his worn and scarred face.
The man didn't seem to want to listen to reason. Many of the patrons of the restaurant, seeing that this wasn't going to end without violence, were evacuating the premises. Good on them; Reina didn't want any civilians getting hurt. Clearly this obstinate being in front of her was a shinobi, so she wouldn't feel bad about giving him a good, old-fashioned beat-down. Maybe then he would learn a little respect.
He was playing with fire, and he was going to get burned if he wasn't careful. Reina had no compunction about beating on someone she considered her equal. The woman channeled chakra into her hands and brought them together, swinging at the man like she had a zanbatou in hand. The force would push him back against the wall, and if he wasn't quick to get out of the way, the pinkette would be in his face with her fearful wooden spoon.
Given the opportunity, she would smack it lightly against his collarbones. "Could've broken both if I wanted to, sweetie. Now, do you want to end up in a full-body cast in the local hospital, or would you like to sit down and eat?"
In moments, the woman had come to her decision, one that began with the raising of her hands. Together, her fingers coiled into fists, and they would be swung down as if she were wielding a massive weapon. What resulted was something unseen by the rogue, a shock wave that worked not to hammer him like a charging bull, but one that would push him further into the wall. It would ensure that the Hozuki had no chance to doge; what a clever move.
From there, she had taken the next step in delivering what would be an unavoidable attack. Sato's eyes flared excitedly at just what she would do to him, what pain she would have wished upon his being, as his body's state began to shift anxiously. Though above all else, no matter how she would try to hurt him, what excited the rogue most was not what she would do to him: it was what he would do to her.
But anticipation fell short as her spoon tapped at his collar.
"..."
Wait. Wasn't she going to harm him? Destroy him? Break his knees and feed them to the rogue? Something?!
Sato's vicious expression almost instantly dropped into one of disappointment and disarray, confused eyes moving all about the woman's body. A second ago, she seemed so willing to harm him, to be as dark as he was, and yet she showed restraint even after having been pushed so far. Where was the violence in her? Just where exactly had it gone?
"I-..." he began, shaking his head. "Weren't you going...?"
Silence befell him for moments, but a question soon had to be imposed. It was one that, even in all of his experience as a man trained to understand humans, not even Sato could answer.
"Why are you so nice? Nobody's this nice. Nobody."
