#effortovertalent

A SOFT ‘ORO’ ESCAPES AT THE PRESENCE FELT UP AHEAD. Kenshin stops his quiet shuffling to gaze upon the boy -- conscientious of how it may come across. 

❝You’re hungry, that you are. How long this one wonders, has it been since your last meal? ❞ 

The boy had a warrior’s ki and his spirit...well, it was a lonely one. Strange, that this homeless rurouni could sense it, but made no comment - only offered a smile that held no ulterior motive but kindness. Odd when one also had a sword against his gi.  

In the aftermath of the greatest shinobi war their generation could remember, it was not uncommon to find the gokage of that era in each other’s villages in order to reach quiet, diplomatic solutions to the issues at hand. When the Tsuchikage was in town, it usually indicated one of two things-- A cause for celebration was about to be announced, Or one of Iwagakure’s ANBU members had been found snooping around. The latter was always followed by a firm and swift denial from the yondaime. Today, she was visiting to once more protest these ‘unfounded claims’, and collect her rogue agent.

                                            of milk and honey || accepting

Truth be told, he couldn’t remember whose fault this was. He had a sneaking suspicion it was his own…but, if Akira was willing to take the blame, so be it.

Babies …  babies everywhere! | Accepting !@effortovertalent

Name: Masashi (n/a) | The Indolent Samurai

Gender: A boyish layabout

General Appearance: Masashi is twins with Caeldori and shares many of her similar features. They’re so similar that as small children they were often mistaken for little twin girls until their age differentiated them. He keeps his hair long, the same as his sister although his hair is often tied back in a low braid. Caeldori and Masashi were adopted and share a dark black hair. He is on the shorter side, only reaching around 5′7″. 

Personality: Perhaps it’s the effect of having two incredibly intense parents and one incredibly intense twin sister, but Masashi has checked out of the rat race. He has few goals in life and is content to let things and people come and go as they please. He can’t compete with Caeldori in any aspect so he chooses not to do so, although he doesn’t harbor any resentment for that. He has a lot of respect for her, as he is convinced that if he ever tried to live the way she does he’d surely crack under the pressure. 

Special Talents: Base class is Samurai, with reclass options to Sky Knight and Spear Fighter. He seems to have a talent for disappearing whenever any hard work needs to be done and for finding the most comfortable places to nap. He’s also the best at cheering his sister up when she’s feeling overwhelmed.

Who they like better: Tsubaki. While Tsubaki can be a little overbearing, he finds Akira very intimidating.

Who they take after more: Neither.

That makes her frown. Not so much for him, but for the lack of protocol, and the fact she is going to have to source the problem and fix it.

“Don’t do that.” She doesn’t want to clean up that fiasco, and there are other ways to break people of bad behavior. She’ll figure something out. 

Oh, don’t worry. She’s noticed. It’s hard not to - she’s looking up to everyone nowadays, like she somehow acquired the one and only tiny person gene in all of Konohagakure. 

She tilts her head against his with a smile, bringing her hand up to scratch at his head and play with his hair.

“You’re getting predictable,” she warns, but the grin can be heard in her voice, and it betrays her; she finds nothing wrong with him being this way. “Or maybe sentimental? Either way, you’re obvious.” 

He can talk to her if he wants. It’s just the two of them, at least for now. And he should probably take advantage while he can, because there’s no telling when she’ll get summoned away.

She’s not sure what his big issue is. It’s not like he’s seeing any of it.

Anko is not really inclined to put on a shirt when the only other person in the room is Akira. And she’s running off of the assumption he’s suffering from severe form of sexual repression, so it’s not like there’s much to worry about. 

She shrugs, and goes back to wrapping her hands. 

“Don’t make it sound so poetic.” Because it isn’t. It’s just killing, and it’s something they have to do to survive. 

There’s nothing glorious about it, no greater purpose to what they do. It’s kill or be killed, and even in Konoha, even during peace, they kill like they are in war.

She hoists up the body in front of her, propping it against a tree as she searches it, and wonders if he’s trying to comfort her.