龍

Shinrin-Yoku

龍

"It's quite alright. I couldn't sleep anyways."

Feeling a tiny surge of heat igniting in her torso, Ryo regarded Tenzo with a stare that didn't have the need to voice its meaning; one wouldn't have to look twice to notice the accusation towards the Wood Style user that he was lying. And his utterance had indeed been a lie; yet, Tenzo regarded her disbelieving stare with apathetic eyes, deeming it certain that she would soon become malleable to her positive emotions.

She would, especially with the place they were approaching gradually.

Despite the frosty drafts that had the wondrous ability of making itself known even under the heaviest layers of down, people idly bustled around the streets and could be seen conversing at the most vivid of shops and stands. The effect of the sun's position, it being already noon and time for lunch to be eaten, was apparent in the mass made up of non-ninjas and Genin, all looking for a warming place to get a steaming meal in their secluded groups of co-workers. The liveliness present in the village was being reflected by the number of young children that pranced about and ran after each other with bubbly laughter, the occasional snowball finding its way in someone else's. Faint smiles trailed after them, Tenzo's included.

It contented him, knowing that his home was in a state of peace and happiness.

As much as Ryo wanted to prevail her stubbornness, she couldn't help but feel enchanted by the villages charm once again. From the glass panels that filtered the sun's golden ribbons through the artistically crafted ice flakes and the soft blankets of glistening snow that painted the asphalts, to all of those small stores that appeared to make food of all kinds.

So far, Tenzo had been comparatively perplexed how… pouty, for a lack of better word, she had handled their whole situation.

First and foremost, she had stared completely flabbergasted when Asuma had proceeded his exit. Her facial expression had remained in its increduloused state for minutes as if it had been casted in stone. Only after he had cleared his throat several times did she regard him – and in a very unpleasant and cold way.

She had answered in short sentences whenever he'd question her about certain topics, she would hide her face behind her snowy mane for the whole duration of their time and she'd barely say anything herself; except voicing her concerns, that is.

Those concerns were the exact reason behind her moody and petulant behaviour.

As they had left the Hokage Tower, he had began with questions akin to "Should I go back to the compound… you look pretty tired."

Additionally, it left him with a splendid insight into her personality.

It was psychologically unerring that her social awkwardness was more than typical for a person in her case (should that very person land in her dilemma in first place). It was a somewhat conventional morality that dictates behaviour but it (as in the awkwardness, he wasn't fond of the word) was starting to customise to the settings of the Leaf Village.

There wouldn't be a minute of silence between them as she constantly seemed to not resist any urges to greet the owners of several stores or even just the people walking past them… maybe she was looking to heighten her so-far non-existing status on the social hierarchy (not exactly hard to perform with such a sudden appearance).

She was incredibly kind and lighthearted for a child in such a unique melee.

Nonetheless, Ryo was a child, a child who would automatically start to glare with their soft and harmless teddy-bear eyes when questions were being dodged – the exact way her orbs seemed to glance from time to time in his direction, colour such a deep brown it resembled the most luxurious of black teas that only the Land of Tea could find the effort to produce.

And that was about everything that would be worth mentioning regarding her persona; although, he concluded that a lot of pieces of her personality would reveal themselves as soon as she'd come in contact with peers her age (that should be sooner than later).

However, there was another point he was to mention in the report he was going to write later that day. The Hokage was sure to find Ryo's level of awareness of the curious glances she seemed to practically produce around her rather interesting.

Despite her surprisingly kind mansuetude and an almost charming discomfiture, the raised eyebrows and turned heads were more or less justified.

Ryo was, after all, quite attention catching.

Not necessarily because she was ravishing (though, if they'd have the time to give her hair proper grooming, she'd certainly display quite the beauty) but because of her porcelain skin that appeared to have been powdered with the whitest of flours. Her hair, so light the snowflakes almost disappeared within it, didn't help this matter at all. The only natural contrasts that she harboured made her appear eerie, like a forest bathed in rays of alabaster moonlight.

Tenzo casted another quick glance towards the small girl, confirming that there was, indeed, a pout lingering on her lips. A particularly harsh winter wind swept across the street, cracking the stillness lying across his face. But as fast as his eyelids scrunched together from the seeping draft, as quickly did they lighten upon seeing a more than familiar shop sign.

"Ryo."

The cold and frosty breeze brushed against her face as she walked alongside her companion whose chestnut hut of hair that sheered above round eyes would slightly bounce with every step he'd take, the sound of crunching snow resonating from about every corner of the street.

She hummed lightly, lips unable to open as they have been sealed shut by the freezing temperatures in absolute resemblance to hardened chewing gum; yet, Ryo wouldn't dare to regard him fully and opted to concentrate on how embarrassing and, most importantly, how insolent she had behaved.

"We've arrived. Let's head inside immediately, it'll be warmer there," she heard Yamato's voice utter the most comforting words she had heard so far. Without looking at the shop's sign, Ryo followed after her companion and was immediately hit by a wave of unbelievingly soothing warmth that made her cheeks crackle in delight.

Her hard-as-stone pouting had long since then shattered like thin sheets of ice on a lake and she followed her companion's wave that beckoned her with him to an empty table.

As soon as she took place on a wooden bench opposing Yamato's, he had already begun ordering; apparently, he was just as eager to fill his stomach with a steaming tea as he was. Ryo exhaled contentedly, noting that there were no more ivory plumes to escape her mouth and no more winter currents to produce those.

The soba-ya 'whatever its name was, but it was definitely a soba-serving store judging from all of the customers slurping noodles) held not the same traditional style as is was seen in the Hidden Lotus. Instead, wooden tables with benches were strewn around the open area that was illuminated by the most various types of candles – even the smallest edges were reached by the range of caramel to red-and-hot fire glow. The heat from the lit candles searched for bodies to warm; but outside, snow fell like ashes on the men walking along their business.

It was definitely a perfect choice for a winter's visit.

"I ordered some tea and a portion of soba," Yamato began, his finger rising to unstick the hairs that had been strewn across his face, "considering that we're going to be training later, our stomachs shouldn't be too filled."

Ryo nodded, a short and fleeting humming sound escaped her lips as to let him know that she wasn't 'completely' ignoring him. Tracing patterns into the tables thin sheet of dust while nibbling her lower lip, she began drifting off – hoping, that Yamato wouldn't suddenly commence querying her.

Not that she was trying to ignore him, but something rather strange was plaguing her mind once again.

There were certain reactions he hope to display, reactions she deemed to find appropriate for fitting scenarios. She was more then elated to not be alone in her complex melee; after all, not everyone could say of themselves to have acquaintances (could she call them friends?) on the calibre of a Kage. She had the more than kind Hokage and the calm and charming Asuma, both people she found the will to trust.

So Yamato would be a nice addition to the list of people she wanted to recognise as friends.

A bubbly feeling fizzing in one's stomach, gleeful smiles cracking along lips, heart beating lightly like a soft, rhythmic tabbing, cheeks scrunching up and forming a closed-eyed simper, eyes practically shining with excitement – all of those were feelings and reactions Ryo would have loved to pursue.

In lieu of being excited by her companions presence, she felt almost self-conscious and tense and instead of a colourful and vivid demeanour, she was left with a mood to match the dullest and gloomiest of weathers.

But she knew exactly what stood on the tag of the heavy weights on her shoulders: "don't you dare"… which was more than probably an innuendo hinting towards the fact that she really didn't want to ruin any opportunity to gain comrades.

And, from what she saw up until now, Yamato had the persona of a very nice person.

And she had practically hit him with a rather rude attitude.

And she had already ruined her first chance at making a good impression.

Ryo frowned slightly, confused by her relatively confounding train of thought. Up until now, she had been rather still and quiet towards him (she was beyond the level of simple embarrassment) but she didn't want to hear pins drop anymore.

"Uh, Yamato-san?" Ryo readied her voice, but halted herself once she realised that, regarding the fact that they haven't even known of each other's existence up until an hour ago, the opportunity for any kind of base for conversational fillers had not yet arisen. In short, she had no idea whatsoever what she could start a conversation with.

But her companion's interest had already been awoken, his brown cinnamon orbs twinkling in cognisance. So, cringing internally, she took a deep breath, already able to feel the blood rushing to her pale cheeks.

"What's your favourite type of food?"

The question wasn't as embarrassing as Ryo supposed it to be, glad that she didn't feel her heart slamming into her throat. Though her face was definitely holding a light hue of crimson, no one would guess that it came from profound abashment.

But she slowly felt the effects of Yamato's chortling ware her somewhat composed facade quite thin; however, she glossed over doubts and looked straight ahead, concealing any kind of indicator towards her embarrassment (except her peachy cheeks, that is).

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly and she leaned her head to the side, unconsciously pouting. "Why are you laughing?"

Stopping his gleeful laughter, he explained, "I just didn't expect a question that blunt," he halted as if to quickly catch his thoughts, "It's actually what we're about to get." His eyes lightened up in what appeared to be bland and utter excitement.

Yes, Ryo confirmed, he's indeed a very nice person.

However, she felt another wave of warmth flow across her back to her face, darkening her cheeks once again, and it felt as if something was expanding in her chest. Ryo realised that there was nothing that she could reply to her answered inquiry… nothing.

While she had already overthought even the tiniest of topics, she should definitely improve the habit of what to overthink. Especially if she couldn't answer her own questions.

Resisting the urge to hide herself underneath her sculpture white tangles, a forced laughter made its way past her lips that barely managed to express the delicate tension, "I see… uh, I–"

"Your orders," a waiter suddenly called out, placing a plate of soba in the middle of their table, shortly followed by two bowls of a light brown paste and two cups of tea. As he retreated back to the kitchen, she could have sworn that a halo was looming over his head.

The mellow aroma of the tea that immediately seemed to spread itself in thin ribbons comforted her, almost diminishing the knots in her stomach that she'd made herself. She knew that her initial embarrassment was self-bred and that Yamato probably didn't care about an issue like this.

Gingerly, Ryo placed her still-frosty fingers around the stone cup, sighing in content when it practically felt like it melted all the coldness around her. It was a brief respite from the maelstrom of disturbed atoms colliding in her head. Then, pushing away her self-consciousness into the farthest edge of her mind, she queried, "So you like Kurumi Soba the most?"

She had, of course, instantly recognised the dish; the sienna coloured walnut mori tzuyu, a sauce-like dip, being the top notch give-away.

He shook his head slightly at her question. "Not exactly," Yamato said as he picked up one of the thin buckwheat ropes before dipping them in the sweet sauce, "It's actually walnuts." And it disappeared into his mouth.

The rest of their snack/lunch/brunch (whatever it was, Ryo really didn't know) had passed with comfortable silence, small inputs of casual conversations fining their way in between.

However, there was one subject laying like a heavy, two-ton weight on her mind; the whole Wood-Style fiasco… if she held the Bloodline Limit in first place.

There were two reasons she had started thinking about it. One, her hand had been dangerously close to one of the plants that had been placed outside the diner, so close her hand had started tingling again as if colonies of ants were marching over her skin. Secondly, Asuma had mentioned that she wasn't the only one who possessed the rare ability (even though one person to possess should already be a rarity). Her soon-to-be Sensei harboured it just as she did, and it confounded her quite a bit.

Nonetheless, she didn't want to pester him about it (as much as she may want to, as much as it was shimmying under her flesh, she would not ask him). It wasn't her business to ask and Yamato would definitely elaborate this matter to Ryo sooner or later.

But no matter how much she would try to keep those thoughts out of her mind, she couldn't slow her thoughts down enough to catch one, couldn't hold on to something hopeful as each memory overrode the next like a disk fragmentation.

She buried her hands deeper into her fluffy pockets (as Yamato realised that it might be of importance to get her at least a thicker piece of clothing) and simpered happily, her peachy cheeks pushing her eyes into half moons. "So, where are we gonna go?" she chided gleefully, surprisingly contented with the situation she was in.

But a shudder (that she was assured didn't come from the drafts) ran over her back as she watched Yamato's lips pulling up in a smile that practically screamed "I know something you don't wanna know".

"We're going to go on a Shinrin-Yoku."

She pursed her lips slightly, her brows dragging into an example of confusion. But before she could voice her thoughts, Yamato already began to talk, "Lord Hokage has told me off your problems to control what we believe to be the Wood Style, which is why I'm hear to help you." Ryo fell in step alongside him, nodding now and then. With a short pause, he questioned her, "Due to your memory loss you might not remember, but do you know if you've trained to become a ninja before you've arrived here?"

"I… I think so actually."

She stopped short in her tracks and turned towards Yamato. His expression turned curious when she raised her hand and spread apart her fingers, as if she wanted him to inspect it. "In between my fingers are a lot of white streaks," she began to elaborate her action. And indeed, in each gap were barely noticeable white lines, each fading into the light background of her skin. Yamato's orbs lit up in recognition at what she was implying. "Those seem originate from training with shuriken. You've probably trained as a ninja before," He concluded pensively.

For Ryo however, this simple fact made her heart exude a warmth throughout her entire body, a tender and gleeful feeling enveloping it. Every piece of information for we was like a piece of herself, a piece of who she had once been. And being a ninja didn't sound all so bad for her.

Raising her head, Ryo laughed the most genuine laugh she had managed to make up until now, and she was indeed happy.

No thing could diminish the joy she felt…

…except the promising-but-way-to-scary-smile Yamato had previously sent her way. Who knew what he meant with going on a vacation.

Alright, on time (for me). Let's wrap things up with le reviews!

~Guest:

I'm relieved my story isn't hopeless lmao. I've also noticed that, so I'm happy you think so too!

~Narulove:

Good seeing you again! There is indeed a hint...

See you soon, cinna buns!