Snow flew thick through the alleys and streets of Kumo as the wind tore and spun the small frozen flakes through the night air. Few would be out and about so late on such a night, but one figure could be seen wandering down side streets and back alleys, making his way doggedly homeward to a warm fire and a soft bed. It had been a long day for Narashi Jo; that morning he had returned from a mission where he and his team had almost lost their lives, that afternoon he’d searched the village fruitlessly for his love, and that evening he had met with her brother and set up a meeting with their father on the marrow. Afterwards, he’d gone to the training grounds beneath the Colosseum to blow off some steam, and had succeeded. Now, with leaden limbs numbed by both exertion and the bitter cold, all he wanted was to go home.
The boy wasn’t dressed nearly warm enough for this weather. His steel-toed boots kept his feet dry, but offered little insulation. His jeans were warm enough, but he wouldn’t turn down a pair of thermal underpants if they were offered. Beneath his brown leather jacket, only a black t-shirt stood between him and the cold. ’Just keep moving… you’re almost there…” he told himself as he turned off a main road onto a side street, then down a back alley he knew to be a shortcut to his destination. He only hoped that the troublesome riffraff that frequented these dark corners of the village were wiser than he and had chosen to stay indoors for the evening. He didn’t want to have to fight his way through them to get to his apartment.
Just as he turned a corner between and behind a few buildings, a figure materialized through the blinding snow before him. The form was indistinct through the white-out that was this evening’s weather, but it stood directly in the boys path. ”Who’s there?!” Jo shouted through the wind. ”You better not try anything! I’m a shinobi of Kumo, and I’m not in the mood to be dealing with petty criminals!” Jo’s tenor voice held steady, despite the winds, the cold, and the exhaustion. He hoped there wouldn’t be any trouble, he wasn’t in the mood or the shape to be fighting at the moment.
The boy wasn’t dressed nearly warm enough for this weather. His steel-toed boots kept his feet dry, but offered little insulation. His jeans were warm enough, but he wouldn’t turn down a pair of thermal underpants if they were offered. Beneath his brown leather jacket, only a black t-shirt stood between him and the cold. ’Just keep moving… you’re almost there…” he told himself as he turned off a main road onto a side street, then down a back alley he knew to be a shortcut to his destination. He only hoped that the troublesome riffraff that frequented these dark corners of the village were wiser than he and had chosen to stay indoors for the evening. He didn’t want to have to fight his way through them to get to his apartment.
Just as he turned a corner between and behind a few buildings, a figure materialized through the blinding snow before him. The form was indistinct through the white-out that was this evening’s weather, but it stood directly in the boys path. ”Who’s there?!” Jo shouted through the wind. ”You better not try anything! I’m a shinobi of Kumo, and I’m not in the mood to be dealing with petty criminals!” Jo’s tenor voice held steady, despite the winds, the cold, and the exhaustion. He hoped there wouldn’t be any trouble, he wasn’t in the mood or the shape to be fighting at the moment.