Kiyoshi suddenly and violently woke up, jerking into a sitting position and sucking in a blast of air. The confusion that addled his brain meandered for a moment before he realized where he was. He sighed. He was in his new apartment. After Yamamoto Airi had shown him around town a bit and helped him find a Shinobi-discounted apartment, he went to settle into his new place and immediately crashed on the couch. The boy hadn’t slept in the almost 72 hours since the Chakra Potential Screening Service had uprooted him from the small farming village he’d been born and raised in, and sent him halfway across the country to enroll at the Kumogakure Shinobi Academy. Physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted, he was out cold before his head even hit the pillow. Now, with his mind no longer foggy and his limbs leaden from sleep deprivation, he was finally able to get a good sense of his surroundings.
The apartment was small, but sufficient. It was only one room, but it had everything he needed. When you walked through the door, there was a lower area for you to remove your shoes, and a closet that contained a small washer and dryer, as well as a shelf for cleaning supplies and an empty rack for a broom and mop. Once you stepped up into the apartment proper, there was a door immediately to the left that lead to the bathroom containing the necessities; a sink with mirror and medicine cabinet, a toilet, and a shower with bathtub, all made of a generic white ceramic with an off-grey tile floor.
The kitchen was to the right. It wasn’t large, but it had all the usual appliances; fridge and freezer, microwave, stove and oven, a deep double sink, and a limited amount of cabinetry and counterspace. There was even a small, round table that seated four people. The floor in the kitchen – and the rest of the apartment, for that matter – was made of beige colored wood laminate, with the cabinets whitewashed, and the countertop made of particleboard sheathed in speckled grey plastic. The table and chairs were also made of particleboard, by their sheathing was made of faux wood only a shade or two darker than the floor.
The main area of the apartment resembled a living room. Along the same wall as the kitchen was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, followed by an entertainment center atop which sat a small black-and-white TV (complete with “rabbit ears” antennae), and a large armoire cattycornered on the end. On the back wall sat the couch Kiyoshi had slept on the night before. It was made of a rough, cheap, dark blue material, and contained a fold-out bed. The couch was flanked on either side by end tables surmounted by small table lamps. Just in front of the couch sat a small, rectangular coffee table, on which sat the backpack that contained all of Kiyoshi’s worldly possessions. All the furniture in the living room was made of the same material as the dining room table, and gave off a very inexpensive-but-functional vibe.
It wasn’t much, but it was home. Kiyoshi had been able to strike a deal with the kindly little old lady that owned the building. His rent and utilities would be paid in full every month: A, because he was a student at the academy, and was entitled to the appropriate discount; but mostly B, because Kiyoshi was hired on as the building’s janitor/handyman. He would keep the common areas clean, perform lower level maintenance in the other tenant’s apartments, and assist with any odd jobs the owner had for him. If a repair was beyond his capabilities, he was to let the owner know so she could hire a repairman. Kiyoshi silently thanked his father for teaching him how to fix things around the house, otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to afford the place, even with the shinobi discount.
Standing up and stretching groggily, Kiyoshi stumbled his half-awake self to the bathroom… only to rush right back out again and start digging through his backpack. Lucky for him, he stuck a spare roll of toilet paper in there the last time he went camping, and hadn’t removed it since. When he went to wash his hands afterwards, he realized there was no soap either. One more dive into his bag of travel-sized toiletries brought out a sliver of bar soap to use. Drying his hands on his jeans (as he hadn’t even bothered to change into pajama’s before passing out), he looked around the apartment and realized he was missing a lot of essentials. An additional dive into the bag brought him a small, spiral-bound steno pad and a ballpoint pen. His father’s advice to always have something to write on and to write with echoed in his mind. ‘I have to remember to thank him next time I write’ Kiyoshi thought, finally appreciating what he used to take for granted.
Room-by-room – or, really, sector-by-sector – Kiyoshi went around the apartment taking notes on what things he needed. Simple things like dish soap, laundry detergent and cleaning supplies, along with everyday items like cutlery and glassware were something he hadn’t really thought of before. They were always just there. As he finished up the now multi-page list, Kiyoshi grimaced at what he had estimated the cost to be. The kind and generous lord of his village had given him a small amount of money as a gift when he left, and it looked like just getting the essentials was going to exhaust the vast majority of it. ‘Maybe if I get most of this stuff at the thrift store, I can keep the cost more reasonable.’ He thought, brows furrowed.
First thing was first, though; he needed a shower. Grabbing his towel out of his bag and what was left of the sliver of soap, he did his best to wash the dirt of the road off of him. The landlady had given him a couple of days to settle in before he started work, and he had a few days before he started classes, but there really was no time to waste. As he dried off and put on clean clothes – a simple outfit; blue jeans, white tennis shoes, a plain black t-shirt, and a worn denim jacket – his mind locked in on one thing that he absolutely had to do before he started shopping.
“I need some freaking coffee.”
Kiyoshi blew out an appreciative sigh as he sipped from an overly large mug. He’d made his way to the Susukino district, and promptly found the central plaza. Ms. Yamamoto had pointed it out to him when they first made their way into the village, and he figured if he was going to find a place to get some decent coffee, that would be it. He mostly took his coffee black, but when he stepped up to the counter at the little café, he was blown away by the number of choices. The little mom-and-pop diner in his village offered their customers cream and sugar for their coffee; but, as far as Kiyoshi knew, that was all there was to it.
Luckily, the shop wasn’t too busy yet, and the barista behind the counter was happy to explain to him what all them fancy words like “latte” and “macchiato” meant. In the end, he’d decided to have a cappuccino, with an orange and cranberry scone for breakfast. He’d almost balked at the price, but this was his first time trying “real coffee”, as the barista put it. So, he shelled out what was the cost for a whole tin of coffee grounds and took a seat outside on the patio.
’Oh, I’m sorry, “Alfresco”. He thought, silently mocking the haughtiness of the barista. He stopped and mentally berated himself for being so rude. The man had been kind enough to patiently explain a whole litany of beverages to him; being discourteous was completely uncalled for… even if the person didn’t actually know someone had insulted him.
Munching on the dry, but mildly sweet, pastry between sips of the hot, frothy coffee, Kiyoshi scanned the area for places of interest. Even though it was still early, there were already more than a few people out and about, dipping into and out of shops or approaching carts to scan their wares. In many ways, it was like the market back home, but with a bustling pace that was almost unheard of in his rural town. The weather was nice; a clear, cerulean sky with little tufts of white clouds speckled here and there. It was cooler in the shadows, but Kiyoshi, who was sitting in direct sunlight, felt like his jacket was almost unneeded.
Taking it off and draping it across the back of his chair, he actually enjoyed the cool, crisp breeze that swirled through the plaza, creating small, harmless dust devils where the winds collided and danced around each other. Even so, it was strange to him that it was this cool, even in early morning, now that the summer months were finally here. He mentally shrugged. They were up in the mountains after all, not the lowland valley where he’d come from where the heat of the day could, and often would, give you a nice sunburn if you weren’t careful.
Inexorably, Kiyoshi’s eyes were drawn to the large statue in the middle of the plaza. It was a strong, proud looking shinobi of some sort. He figured the man must’ve been important: A, because he had a statue in the middle of the village square (duh); and B, because many of the villagers, and especially the shinobi, made small invoking signs as they passed him, as if he was some form of minor deity.
“I wonder who he is?” He said aloud, taking another sip of coffee.
[OOC: Open RP. Please feel free to join!]
The apartment was small, but sufficient. It was only one room, but it had everything he needed. When you walked through the door, there was a lower area for you to remove your shoes, and a closet that contained a small washer and dryer, as well as a shelf for cleaning supplies and an empty rack for a broom and mop. Once you stepped up into the apartment proper, there was a door immediately to the left that lead to the bathroom containing the necessities; a sink with mirror and medicine cabinet, a toilet, and a shower with bathtub, all made of a generic white ceramic with an off-grey tile floor.
The kitchen was to the right. It wasn’t large, but it had all the usual appliances; fridge and freezer, microwave, stove and oven, a deep double sink, and a limited amount of cabinetry and counterspace. There was even a small, round table that seated four people. The floor in the kitchen – and the rest of the apartment, for that matter – was made of beige colored wood laminate, with the cabinets whitewashed, and the countertop made of particleboard sheathed in speckled grey plastic. The table and chairs were also made of particleboard, by their sheathing was made of faux wood only a shade or two darker than the floor.
The main area of the apartment resembled a living room. Along the same wall as the kitchen was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, followed by an entertainment center atop which sat a small black-and-white TV (complete with “rabbit ears” antennae), and a large armoire cattycornered on the end. On the back wall sat the couch Kiyoshi had slept on the night before. It was made of a rough, cheap, dark blue material, and contained a fold-out bed. The couch was flanked on either side by end tables surmounted by small table lamps. Just in front of the couch sat a small, rectangular coffee table, on which sat the backpack that contained all of Kiyoshi’s worldly possessions. All the furniture in the living room was made of the same material as the dining room table, and gave off a very inexpensive-but-functional vibe.
It wasn’t much, but it was home. Kiyoshi had been able to strike a deal with the kindly little old lady that owned the building. His rent and utilities would be paid in full every month: A, because he was a student at the academy, and was entitled to the appropriate discount; but mostly B, because Kiyoshi was hired on as the building’s janitor/handyman. He would keep the common areas clean, perform lower level maintenance in the other tenant’s apartments, and assist with any odd jobs the owner had for him. If a repair was beyond his capabilities, he was to let the owner know so she could hire a repairman. Kiyoshi silently thanked his father for teaching him how to fix things around the house, otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to afford the place, even with the shinobi discount.
Standing up and stretching groggily, Kiyoshi stumbled his half-awake self to the bathroom… only to rush right back out again and start digging through his backpack. Lucky for him, he stuck a spare roll of toilet paper in there the last time he went camping, and hadn’t removed it since. When he went to wash his hands afterwards, he realized there was no soap either. One more dive into his bag of travel-sized toiletries brought out a sliver of bar soap to use. Drying his hands on his jeans (as he hadn’t even bothered to change into pajama’s before passing out), he looked around the apartment and realized he was missing a lot of essentials. An additional dive into the bag brought him a small, spiral-bound steno pad and a ballpoint pen. His father’s advice to always have something to write on and to write with echoed in his mind. ‘I have to remember to thank him next time I write’ Kiyoshi thought, finally appreciating what he used to take for granted.
Room-by-room – or, really, sector-by-sector – Kiyoshi went around the apartment taking notes on what things he needed. Simple things like dish soap, laundry detergent and cleaning supplies, along with everyday items like cutlery and glassware were something he hadn’t really thought of before. They were always just there. As he finished up the now multi-page list, Kiyoshi grimaced at what he had estimated the cost to be. The kind and generous lord of his village had given him a small amount of money as a gift when he left, and it looked like just getting the essentials was going to exhaust the vast majority of it. ‘Maybe if I get most of this stuff at the thrift store, I can keep the cost more reasonable.’ He thought, brows furrowed.
First thing was first, though; he needed a shower. Grabbing his towel out of his bag and what was left of the sliver of soap, he did his best to wash the dirt of the road off of him. The landlady had given him a couple of days to settle in before he started work, and he had a few days before he started classes, but there really was no time to waste. As he dried off and put on clean clothes – a simple outfit; blue jeans, white tennis shoes, a plain black t-shirt, and a worn denim jacket – his mind locked in on one thing that he absolutely had to do before he started shopping.
“I need some freaking coffee.”
*****
Kiyoshi blew out an appreciative sigh as he sipped from an overly large mug. He’d made his way to the Susukino district, and promptly found the central plaza. Ms. Yamamoto had pointed it out to him when they first made their way into the village, and he figured if he was going to find a place to get some decent coffee, that would be it. He mostly took his coffee black, but when he stepped up to the counter at the little café, he was blown away by the number of choices. The little mom-and-pop diner in his village offered their customers cream and sugar for their coffee; but, as far as Kiyoshi knew, that was all there was to it.
Luckily, the shop wasn’t too busy yet, and the barista behind the counter was happy to explain to him what all them fancy words like “latte” and “macchiato” meant. In the end, he’d decided to have a cappuccino, with an orange and cranberry scone for breakfast. He’d almost balked at the price, but this was his first time trying “real coffee”, as the barista put it. So, he shelled out what was the cost for a whole tin of coffee grounds and took a seat outside on the patio.
’Oh, I’m sorry, “Alfresco”. He thought, silently mocking the haughtiness of the barista. He stopped and mentally berated himself for being so rude. The man had been kind enough to patiently explain a whole litany of beverages to him; being discourteous was completely uncalled for… even if the person didn’t actually know someone had insulted him.
Munching on the dry, but mildly sweet, pastry between sips of the hot, frothy coffee, Kiyoshi scanned the area for places of interest. Even though it was still early, there were already more than a few people out and about, dipping into and out of shops or approaching carts to scan their wares. In many ways, it was like the market back home, but with a bustling pace that was almost unheard of in his rural town. The weather was nice; a clear, cerulean sky with little tufts of white clouds speckled here and there. It was cooler in the shadows, but Kiyoshi, who was sitting in direct sunlight, felt like his jacket was almost unneeded.
Taking it off and draping it across the back of his chair, he actually enjoyed the cool, crisp breeze that swirled through the plaza, creating small, harmless dust devils where the winds collided and danced around each other. Even so, it was strange to him that it was this cool, even in early morning, now that the summer months were finally here. He mentally shrugged. They were up in the mountains after all, not the lowland valley where he’d come from where the heat of the day could, and often would, give you a nice sunburn if you weren’t careful.
Inexorably, Kiyoshi’s eyes were drawn to the large statue in the middle of the plaza. It was a strong, proud looking shinobi of some sort. He figured the man must’ve been important: A, because he had a statue in the middle of the village square (duh); and B, because many of the villagers, and especially the shinobi, made small invoking signs as they passed him, as if he was some form of minor deity.
“I wonder who he is?” He said aloud, taking another sip of coffee.
[OOC: Open RP. Please feel free to join!]
