Day to Day

Odd habits, nostalgia, daily nuances, humorous events, and anything else in day-to-day between missions.

Odd Habit 1

Masumi had few general possessions, but she kept them neat and tucked away. Some garments were folded neatly, some small items were organized in a container... and something that didn't fit. Tucked in the corner, wrapped neatly in cloth, were some pickled vegetables, some rice balls, and left overs from yesterday. Even with regular access to food, the fear of hunger still loomed in the mind of the former beggar.

Odd Habit 2

In travel, Masumi learned to fall asleep just about anywhere. In trees, on the ground, on roof tops, in snow caves... a number of places that lacked a bed. Lethargy seemed to plague the house keeper, especially with the weather warming. She fell asleep in the kitchen, on the roof top, or curled up on the floor of a storage room. Half the time her bed remained neatly folded away.

Lopes meant it when he said there was cleaning to do. Trails of blood had to be scrubbed off the floors, walls, and, oddly enough, ceiling in certain places. Furniture was upturned that had to be up righted, some had to be repair, some had to cleaned. Many of the pillows had to be outright replaced. This did not even cover the work she did to aid the wounded, and many nights saw her asleep next to the grinding tools and herbs.

But in time, things returned to equilibrium. A funeral came and went, the injured assassins gradually returned to health, and a foreigner whose homeland lied east of Japan joined the ranks of the den.

The herb that was the main ingredient of the salve the monk had requested of her was in the possession of her employers, but Masumi knew they would need that supply with the frequency of injuries. Instead, she opted to gather the herb herself, and with things finally quieter, Masumi scoured the hallways of the den for Mentor, Lopes, or anyone else with the authority to give the housekeeper leave for the 2 days she needed.

The moonlight cast a silvery hue, and the air chilled the house keepers sweaty skin as she breathed the sweet air. The tower was never truly asleep, always there was someone to remain vigilant. Arguably, night was even the time many in the tower were at the most active. Still, the nip in the air told Masumi it was close to dawn, and life was as quiet as it ever got.

She looked to the plank that jutted past the edge, seemingly out of place. Just that last afternoon she had seen some of the hooded warriors step off the edge with the confidence of birds, only to be swallowed by the generous pile of hay that awaited below. If anyone asked Masumi, she would tack it as one of the especially strange habits the inhabitants house employed, certainly not something she would think about trying. If she were to be honest with herself, she would admit to being curious.

Scratch that, she was down right tempted. She crawled to the edge, peering below to the pile of hay that lied innocently beneath. How simple would it be to simply step off the edge. She craned her head in all directions, and realized that no one was there be watching. She was completely alone. With a stubborn determination, she walked to the edge of the plank, took one last deep breath, and stepped into the empty air.

The air stung her eyes as the world rushed passed her. It felt as if all her guts leaped out her body, and she could of sworn her hear stopped beating. It ended as soon as it begun. At first she panicked when she couldn't initially breathe, before she realized she simply had the wind knocked out of her. She gasped for the air, coughing occasionally, before her breathing gradually returned to normal. She had landed stomach down on the hay stack, and clumsily rolled off. She looked up to where she stepped off, noting how much further it seemed during the drop.

Probably not her brightest idea; it would take forever to remove all the straw from her hair and clothes. Still, cracking a grin to herself, she could not deny a certain element of fun, and no one would ever know.