Chance Encounter: Masato x Sadayo

[Kondo Kaicho]

Deep within the Land of Fire's thick forest's the sun is beginning to set. Sandayu, the unstoppable force that fueled Kogarashi's armies and Masato's brother has been slain only days prior as the Taijutsu Specialist moves towards the last known place he had seen the soon to be Hokage. His heart still heavy, he carries bottles of a substance never consumed by him before with the hopes of consuming it before sleeping to avoid the sorrow that comes with stillness. His path would soon be crossed with a familiar face that he had not seen in the past five years with the exception of moments of disaster in Uzugakure as it collapsed.  

[Kondo Kaicho]

Normally, time and space would open up and the man would just appear at his destination. Normally. Unfortunately for the world, this was not a normal circumstance. Masato walked casually, his body seemed heavy. It was several says after the events that resulted in his brother's death. He had spent those days being questioned by officer Kosei to clear his name of the events against Arashigakure before the village had been lifted into the air. Now he only felt the sorrow of losing his brother. It wasn't as though he hadn't lost family before....he had even been in the position to kill his father. But this? He could have reached his brother, couldn't he? Couldn't he had stopped him? If only he had awakened and mastered the Rinnegan before his brother saw his hatred unfold before him. Now, he gripped tightly to the bottle of incredibly strong liquor that he had purchased before leaving Nise-Arashigakure. He'd never allowed such a substance to enter his body. It wasn't something he cared for or ever needed. It was about the fight. Always about the fight. He had heard the substance was to help ease the pain....on the skin for external wounds, consumed for internal ones. This, this was an internal wound that threatened his entire persona. He traveled alone, even shutting Kurama out for the duration as the bijuu even attempted to refocus the man. He sighed, growing more weary than usual. He canvased the area, deeming the thicket of trees that shielded him from the elements to be his best bet for a campfire. He formed a single hand sign, igniting a pile of branches he gathered. The flame would soon more to a steady roar as he made himself comfortable on the trunk of a tree. The first of his bottles made a distinct 'Pawwwpp' as it's cork was removed, allowing the scent to flood Masato's nostrils and cause a temporary grimace. He stared at the bottle, wondering about the words of his teacher which magically seemed to find him at this time. " One should never drink in sorrow. But if you do, never drink alone." He couldn't understand the reasons for such a statement, he had always burdened his sorrow, this was just once more wound.
 

[Hurrak]

Sadayo◦❖◦Soga

Just a precaution at best. There were no guarantees that the borders of the Land of Fire didn't have stragglers from the Kogarashi army trying to cross. Every some ought several mile, it seemed, a marker was present with characters scrawling that the land on one side was "Fire" and other side was some other. These were border markers. And many that remained from the bygone years were damaged. The Chosokabe Empire made it's markers known with stone craved obelisks erected on the road sides and even in the most obscure of places. Lahlil wanted her own border markers. Now, her border markers didn't have to be fancy but the job of placing border markers was a many step process that included ninja, cartographers, botanists, surveyors, transport teams, and any strong crewmen to do the dirty work. A job that didn't take over night.

This project was still in its early stages which were widely covered by scouts trusted not to run off. The scouts job, in this case Sadayo, was to take a map of the "old world" and find the time worn markers and confirm their position. Additionally, scouts are tasked the with the chore of weeding out anyone who might pose a threat to the Surveying team. Bandit camps and violent straddlers from defeated terrorist groups, mostly.

You know that saying about smoke meaning fire? That time worn phrase often asks of Sadayo to account for the dangers omnipresent in her profession, more so, in the wilderness. Worse were the dangers at twilight where her last hopes of sunlight were beginning to fade. The old border markers would be hidden in the night but Sadayo's determined self was more apt to covering as much ground before all would fade into a dark night. The scent of smoke on a chilled evening breeze could be benign but the oods stood as questionable with the wilderness circumstances. An idiot would savagely run in on a camp. But a gutsy idiot would walk into a camp feeling ready. The jounin opt to take the chance and risk herself. Puppets were generally noisy but her fake double would make a worthwhile replacement if the campers were hostile.

She activated a weak illusion. For a time she had herself hidden and carved out the presumable, best pathway to create the least noise. Twigs, branches, and dried leaves were arguably as noisy as puppet joints. The crackle of a fresh fire consuming its kindling. Little orange sparks ascending to the forest canopy. This wasn't a "from behind" survey of the camp, regrettably, still the vague cover of evenfall in the thick of brambles and leaves was all the puppeteer had to hide her form when illusions failed. Sadayo just stood there on the simple fact her vision was still in need of adjusting to the stark bright fire in contrast to the shadows. She actually might have had a vantage point being on the other side of a fire. The jounin could begin to make out barely coherent features, highlighted in the firelight, of a once ambiguous form that sat against a patch of blackened trees.

The form looked weirdly familiar the more she made her little squint'y eyes at it and pieced features together. She was close to betting herself that this campfire figure was actually one of the many meatheads she has the misfortune of dealing with once in a blue moon. What was worse? A brat boasting the particulars of their DNA or a meathead who lived on the instinct of punching first and asking questions never. Oh, right, both.
A tilt of her head here, arcing her neck forward some there, and making exceedingly puzzled faces that would be jarring to her preferred, emotionless presentation. When the fluffy black hair and contour of muscles made sense Sadayo finally rolled her eyes and neck along for one big exasperated, however silent, UGH.
This was more work. Finding Masato meant one important thing, two maybe, but the biggest part was she'd have to report this to Lahlil and she might be wondering why Sadayo didn't try to ask him to come back. Odds were Sadayo would end up making a double trip to convince his a** to the leaf, probably.

How do you walk up on a meathead in the middle of a forest at night?

Sadayo didn't announce herself when she probably should have. Sleight of hand and a snap of her fingers whips her cape off her shoulders in a noisy puff. An idiot would savagely run in on a camp, gutsy idiot would walk into a camp feeling ready, and a dauntless shadow would walk into a camp ready, out of cowardice that things could go terribly wrong otherwise. "The hell have you been?" She wasn't wearing green. The black bolero and pants were painted over with a haze of warmth while the orange dress and yellow tassel stuck out. Where the hell have you been? That was probably a statement carrying more weight between these two former Sand shinobi than she wanted to think about. Her pose, with her hands on both hips looks confident but girl was shaking in her boots. "Lahlil would have her obelisks in a heart beat if she knew where you were."

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Kondo Kaicho

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[Kondo Kaicho]

The tempered clay turned to decanter would reach his lips, the bitter liquid gave it's first bite as it quenched his thirst but only for a moment before it's burning sensation swelled within his stomach. It was no sooner than this time that his ear twitched, a soft crunch of leaves and twigs. His eyes would lazily shift to red without effort for but a fleeting moment, recognizing the chakra before returning to it's listless black color. His eyes examined the woman's figure once it became visible as she called out to him, confirming what he already knew. He was sure that if both Kotori and the girl left when he thought they did, they'd have returned to the village about two days prior. " I was there....at the end." His response was simple. But if Sadayo had access to the VORTEX intelligence from prior to the village's destruction or was in contact with the Spec Ops members still, his brother's identity was common knowledge. Masato had been present in Sandayu's last moments.

He knew she had to be on some sort of mission, why else would she be making a solo trip through the land of fire at night. " Y'know. The ninetails chakra still has a good grip on the land out here, not too safe at night. Save yourself the trouble and bed down for the night. " His eyes were fixated on the bottle, palming it between his hands. Silence would fill the air aside from the rhythmic crackle and pops of the fire. The chill of the night would compel anyone to reside near the open flame. It would be clear that Masato was not his usual, strike first, ask questions later self. His words carried a hollowness that seemed to dampen even the flame's brightness. He released his grip but for a moment with his left hand from the bottle, aiming his index finger towards the second bottle sitting a few feet from him. " Help yourself to it. It's like fire in your belly." Gripping the bottle again, he took yet another sip from the bottle. He clearly wasn't accustomed to the dangers of the drink, nor was he deeply indulging himself in it as a drunkard would....it was medicine, to him at least.
 

[Hurrak]

Sadayo◦❖◦Soga

"Right..." She mumbled. Details, frankly, were fuzzy of which "end" Masato was referring to but based on his lackluster mindset the specific "end" he listlessly confirmed wasn't the end her train of thought initially went to.
The sun had set enough that its radiance was just a band of red on the horizon. Clouds, once soaked in sunlight and pink, were broken into blue wisps against the dusk sky. It was too late to continue wandering without a lamp to light her map. Night wasn't really far behind. She let him continue without much reason to argue aside from a look on her face; a worn, nearly pained smile overlooking the preference to disagree but in all good conscience couldn't.

This wasn't a Masato she was familiar with. Still, the hard fact stood that this could have been weirdly normal and she was none the wiser. Sadayo barely knew a thing about him, honestly. He was fists and action! Not a fireside lullaby type, however, whatever he was drinking might have had a role in this distant side. He was calm, at least. Sadayo could live with calm but carrying on with the awkward feeling to be standing across from him was a different trial. She didn't feel acquainted well enough to just "sit down" in the same vicinity of someone who rubbed her the wrong way. She wondered if they might have been better off as complete strangers from the get-go. Sometimes even complete strangers could find topics of conversation. Now, a talk of strange chakra having a grip on the land was surely some result of his worldly perspective was one quality she felt she knew about him, at least. A malign energy gripping the land was still new information to the puppeteer.

In any case, Sadayo's nature was nearly one with the desire to be polite and to avoid creating bad impressions that would make others avoid and resent her and for this reason her knees eventually gave way to bend. For the time Sadayo knew well she could rest with the luxury an extra set of living, breathing (very) capable hands to back her up if the evening went sour and dabble in one crooked rarity (whether she knew or not). Masato pointed at a second corked earthen bottle. His offer was unexpected but encouraging. However where Sadayo initially took a seat, on her knees, was a little ways away from the spot he pointed and it was but another polite gesture to accept drinks. The distance between her and the second clay bottle was one, long knee-hop-scuttle motion that might have felt considerably more embarrassing in daylight hours. Her pony-tails briskly bouncing behind her head betray her movements as being seeming typical of a "refined" young adult. Sadayo faithfully stopped on the other side of the bottle which put her a little over a hesitant "sadayo-leg" length away from Masato. Give or take three feet.

The clay bottle lying snug in the grass beside her had a soft inviting glow on its surface from the fire rallying her to at least take its neck. She knit her brows at the thought of whatever burning swill of a swallow bottled up which she at least owed to her host to sip and twiddled her bare fingertips on the clay vessel's exterior. Glaze has a way with helping fired clay feel smooth otherwise the material would be rough and raw to the touch. A lustrous look on the bottle both able to capture and echo the warmth of the fire and pause this evening was giving her. She took it hardly as much of a slosh to sound from the full container. Despite delay, Sadayo takes the bottle in one hand, brings it forward, before placing her other hand onto its rim.

A chance meeting bringing a fire's warmth, a probable drink or two, and cheerless looking somebody all made the solitude of travel a little better, really, even if someone in seeming to be in better spirits might have been preferred. It was almost too bad Masato's company had to be someone who was slug when it came to uncorking. Pwok! Sadayo's silent struggle against the cork was just enough to get it open and probably dull her host with her flops. She palmed the cork feeling the last waves of agitation and the next run of embarrassment. Odds were these reasons to feel off were all in her head and just the need to make a good impression of herself after seeing someone after so long.

Her sights set on the rim of the bottle, between glances up at him, as she spoke. "I never thanked you since you went through all that trouble to save us. On the islands. You kept a lot of families whole that day." She warily brought the bottle's rim to her lip before admitting one last detail she hadn't shared since. "Although mine missed your golden glory portal." There wasn't a trace of her monotonous rouse and neither any suggestion of it being snarky commentary. Disappointment, mostly, sprinkled in with that envious tinge. Then a drink.

A whole gulp as if her long winded thirst had her expecting plainly spiked water.
Sadayo's eye seem to pop from the surprise bitterness burning on her tongue. Humming some kind of exclamatory as she hurried her free hand to hold her mouth shut until she could find the will to swallow. Her next breath was more like a wired gasp for air. "It's like fire in your mouth!" She shook her head, feeling majorly grossed out, and her ponytails quiver along. She held the bottle out and did her best not to eye Masato with a horrendous look that might say, yell rather, HOW CAN YOU DRINK THIS BURNING BOTTLE OF GARBAGE and then tried another taste. Couldn't have been that bad.

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Kondo Kaicho

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[Kondo Kaicho]

The sun seemed to have faded quite quickly. The blend of azure and crimson became deeper as his eyes set back upon Sadayo. He could nearly feel the tension she had...about sitting near him...about his presence...about his entire being. Her actions would deepen his interest in why she even feigned at understanding. If she was that bothered by him, she could easily have turned down the offer. Still, she took her place only a few feet from him, just out of reach. Without looking up he knew this too well thanks to his countless hours honing his bodily awareness.

The sound of her voice cut through the growing absence of light behind them as the flames at their fronts warmed the earth. She was thanking him...something he hadn't remembered anyone doing before. It was unfortunately a bittersweet gratuity as she let loose the tragedy she experienced in the midst of the chaos. He turned sharply to her, his eyes widened. Most would expect the Uchiha's eyes to be full of resentment towards the seemingly backhanded thank you. No. That wasn't what he reflected. His eyebrows were only slightly turned up as eyes seemed nearly glossed with some deep unreleased emotion that threatened to break the surface of his gruff exterior. His lip was pulled tightly to one side, attempting to bury the grief and empathy he had for her. With a quick turn of motion however, she would redirect the conversation or at least tempt to do so. The liquid was indeed bitter to her as well. Good, he didn't feel as badly about his disdain for it. In his swelling sadness, a faint smile formed.

Still he took a drink. With the glazed bottle's contents nearly at 3/4 it's original content, Masato would release a broken sigh outward. The audible crack in his breathing was a clear indication of emotional burden. He rested the container for a moment, placing his hand on the ground to support himself as he pivoted to face Sadayo. He had to recollect. Had to regather. Had to...apologize. "I am...sorry..." He began, obviously unsure of how to even address the loss of her parents. " I...know what it is to lose family..." Sandayu...Father...Monk Mifune " ...as well as Friends..." Tetsuhiko... Taylor...Nariomi-Sensei. He stared down at his hand that tightly clenched the earth beneath him. It wasn't right to bring up his own pain. Not when she felt her own that he could have prevented. It seemed as though everything that happened from Taylor's struggle with his own darkness, Zhi's disappearance, his brother's hatred. It could have been stopped.

In his drowning despair to his own helplessness, Masato would sigh, relaxing his body into a slump against the tree behind him. His eyes lazily shifted back to her. " You handle yourself well." He stated plainly, unaware of how the comment was misplaced in the tone of the conversation. " You can sit here alone with me and tell me things like that....and I can't sense a bit of hatred." Kurama would sigh within his mind, having reached out with his sensory ability and found himself unable to detect ill will toward Masato. He smiled once more, pressing the bottle to his lips after picking it up once more and drinking yet again.
 

[Hurrak]

Sadayo◦❖◦Soga

The second taste wasn't as vile or so she thought. The alcohol burned her throat but some memory of another saying the more one drinks the oods were that it would get better.

Oh, the look on her face. Alarm swept Sadayo up her from the bite of the drink's burn when she caught whim of how quickly, sharply Masato looks at her. She froze. As if the entirety of Sadayo's back muscles tensed up at once. The woman stayed still long enough to bide time for his reply and allow her expression to soften. A breath passes, her muscles ease up, and she lowers her bottle to rest on her knee. Her mouth fell open slightly like she had something to say but backed down sooner than she could finish the thought out of worry she already misspoke. But he didn't say anything, yet. Her delivery concerning her family's disappearance might have been flawed and she sat second guessing herself about the consequences of her detached veneer and whether or not it was stealing away the best of her ability to express sentiments.

Sadayo settles her sights onto the searing core of Masato's campfire. Watching fire overwhelm chunks of tree bark began to rouse a worry that her habit was breaching her more than she might prefer and sweeping willful tone away with like ashy remains. Without regard to willing habitual choices there will be sheepish mistakes bound to muddle something somewhere; human nature pairs well with error even if she doesn't like to think about it. Error can well with tragedy. The sudden break of Masato's sigh seem to set this little aching wonder worrying her free, in the end.

Her sights switch back to him to find Masato was making the effort to actually face her and Sadayo was already bracing herself for poison in his words. No. The only poison to envenom his words was dismal compassion that gave her another round of rattling imagery of people she knew but could see no more. Sadayo could only return the attention he gave her and nod slowly before looking back at the fire. And a home too? Home was one item she would write off as a novelty to the circle of shinobi life that Masato plainly forgot; and another blurb of history that was still a mending wound she didn't need to reopen. " You don't have to apologize for that. I probably gave enough apologies to the living and the dead as I sat on the gates of Ushiogakure for five years waiting for others to show up."

Within her focus on the flame she still able spy his hazy form slide back onto the tree trunk. Then he gets it. The mystery of the matter is the worst part. Masato's comment came and rather derailed the somber images flickering behind her minds' eye. Her response begins with wide, hammy shrug of her arms and shoulders. "It's not your fault," Sadayo sought to speak beside the ache of something she managed to keep corked from the second she landed on the beach after the step through Masato's portal.

"I never felt a need to build up anything against you for that. I'm not going to hate someone over a situation they were trying to make better. " what Sadayo spoke was honest assurance through the hurt and not just rambling to make him feel better. "You took up the responsibility of some...colossal... thing! Odds are my father did something stupid and gutsy. Men, " Sadayo's sneer sounds into the rim of the bottle as she took another gulp. The woman's face scrunches into a scowl with the burn in her throat. A short-lived sigh shovels off the slow burn and Sadayo was somehow speaking clearly again. "Maybe I shouldn't have brought it up. "

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[Kondo Kaicho]

Masato knew the woman's pain in a similar manner to his own. He watched the body language of the woman as she shifted about, taking another drink of the bottle.Even though she explained herself, he couldn't help but think that he deserved some of that hatred he expected. He drew from the bottle again. As he sat in silence for a moment, absorbing the woman's words, he felt a numbness of his face. The realization of the numbness almost came to a surprise to him, forgetting that this was indeed an effect of the firewater he drank. With the numbness came a more flowing sense of self. " Don't ever regret saying what you mean. " He said, resting his weight on his arms which he propped behind him as he laid back slightly, moving away from the tree after placing his drink on the ground. He turned his head back to her, his face somewhat flushed with a reddish tint. " I've always blamed myself...for not being able to stop bad things from happening...getting stronger just to rise above the challenge...finding that my challenges just keep multiplying with each step." he sighed, offering a faint smile. " It's nice to just be still for once." He gazed upward to the stars that now speckled the skies as twilight had passed and night was upon them. " All the sacrifices made. By everyone, maybe they'll be worth it. Kinda up to us I guess. Gutsy stupid heroes did what they did for a reason, right?" While he didn't know Sadayo's late father, it was clear to Masato that her father was just that, a hero. Anyone who laid down their life to protect others was. Even that loud mouthed Uzukage. His memories of the past were bittersweet, keeping their memories close to him as he found himself shifting his eyes back at Sadayo unintentionally. A strange emotion found its way into him, not missing Kurama's attention. A tightness in his chest, an unease in his actions. He couldn't identify it. It wasn't anger, it wasn't sadness and it wasn't quite happiness. His lack in complex emotions for several years made identifying this somewhat hard. Still, he felt the heat on his face and couldn't help but wonder why.
 

[Hurrak]

Sadayo◦❖◦Soga

"You're good at sweeping challenges out of the picture. I will promise you that. I wasn't much of a challenge." Jealousy chimes in and scoffs as Sadayo takes another drink between her words. The sour tone was apparently swallowed with her drink since her next spout of addled words happened to carry a more analytical ring to it. "But why blame yourself? Don't you just deal with the problem? How many odds have turned to where you're the reason for the problem?" She sat quietly for a moment as the fading images and recollection their short-lived spar trickles out of attention and replaces itself with scenarios where bad things weren't generally caused intentionally. Fate was as strange thing and Men were even stranger.

Just the same as fate and men, the world was eternally strange with how it was beginning to seem unsteady. Blinking, squinching her eyes, watching the world itself waver and lean as her focus appears to be zeroing in on the fire. Straight away a large, uncharacteristic smile then crosses her face twin to the jolly, derisive smile of her Hohoemi puppet. On and empty stomach the bubbly toxin of the drink seem to take its toll sooner than she'd might have hoped. "We stole a boat! A big one! My father's gutsy act was a table-turn of his morals. HEEEHEHE!" Her torso suddenly slopes forward with a loud howl of a laugh before slinging herself back up right. "We'd probably have had bounties on our happy little heads if we did it broad dayl-ight!" Drawing in her breath a breeze shoos a waft of smoke to her face and kindles a slight cough and fends off the last of the tipsy giggles. In the rebound, clearing her lungs, Sadayo goes quiet as she collects herself. Her eyes fixed on the blaze and her expression seized by the horror of her sudden, exceptionally kooky change of demeanor. Then shoos and swallows away the feeling of dread and unease a fake abrupt cough.

"If some- if we live than it's worth it, m-aybe " the woman could feel herself teeter near verbal mistakes and felt her shoulders tense up and relax. "May...be," A noiseless vowel mumbles in before she was able to repeat herself, "if we can live for them." She may have been correct to worry about making mistakes and embarrassing herself. Maybe. But the concern was perhaps mostly an empty one that came with habit. Silent promises to not get flustered over stumbling over her words, stumbling into some offbeat behavior. The world was still, as Masato said, and not moving either of them in a tumultuous marathon with one crisis after the next. Night was still aside from the hazy trees in shadow, swaying with the breeze. The popping, crackling fire dandling over its kindling was soothing in night's shroud.

Then little motions here and there of fluffing her ponytails, smoothing out her fringes, and thumbing the little brass button and tassel on her collar in all some attempt to recover and iron out the nerves. Little thoughts, here and there, buffeting her imagination with memories while bobbling around words about gutsy heroes: her mother tore tidal waves in two, her younger sister kept the family preoccupied and hopeful during hardship, and her father was the enduring soul who surmised the grand scheme and saw it through. Her family's collective efforts were why Sadayo was still here- swaying sideways- and losing whatever normalcy she knew for the night. Alcohol was crumbling her deadpan demeanor faster than she could realize its toll. These cloudy, sentimental reflections would easily consume her in this addled state and she could feel her mouth twist and crest into a frown, unwittingly, something alike to her Yūutsu puppet. An image of her "gutsy stupid hero" of a father fulfilling an act that didn't require a dauntless spirit or vigor. Her frown (and sniffle) fashioned itself from the memory of the unflinching pride on Gorô Soga's face even as Sadayo met him with anguish and shame.

Those little moments of unconditional love between herself and her father were gone. No man on this planet could replicate that bond. Just as no woman alive could replace her mother's touch or smile and no like-minded young lady could give back the connection or sense of belonging she had. Her toothy frown quivers and shrivels into a pout with a chance glance over at Masato when the little tears began to well in her eyes.

She hurries to wipe away her tears with her thumb and gloomily sighs.

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[Kondo Kaicho]

The woman's tone wasn't entirely lost on the man who could feel the bite of his drink taking hold, unsure of his own tolerance. He remembered clearly his match against the girl. He had no plans held back against her, starting their fight at half power without gauging his opponent. He had come to see his rather foolish fighting style then. He sighed, taking in her praise of dealing with his own problems. He couldn't help but smile at her, finding himself momentarily entranced by the woman's carelessness that echoed through each burst of laughter. Her smile and laughter faded after a moment of sudden silence. Masato sat up, giving the woman his full attention. He read each word that came from her lips as she made her statement about living for them. With no time to spare, her expression turned to a pout, then tears.

The man's eyes widened, blushing slightly. His memory flooded back to her cries at the genin tournament. This was different. This wasn't fear. It was anguish. He didn't know how to rightfully react. He had never had to comfort another...it surely wasn't his strong suit. He moved toward her, resting on his knees as he sat upon them, leaning forward to place his left hand on her right cheek, catching the tear before her own hand would wipe it away. " Hey now..." he said, pausing to try to find the right words. He looked down with a puzzled expression, frustrated with his lack of words. " We... can do that. Live for them. I'm sure they'd be smiling then!"
 

[Hurrak]

Sadayo◦❖◦Soga

Edit: That's better! 'w'

Such words. Such sweet, sappy words that were more than necessary for even the most sober of Sadayo's. On her attempt to wipe her own tears away her hand hopelessly bumped onto Masato's with his touch to her cheek. She felt the wobble in her sitting posture again but held her head steady with her sights set on him. Sadayo couldn't find the reason to stir and shy away and waste wonder upon the hope that some abstract wall was which willed her still or if she's completely lost her sobreity. There stood no reason to shy away. Masato's touch to her cheek was, perhaps, plainly the contact she needed from someone else. Her wall built of counterfeit emotions to block out anything but neutrality and professionalism had, in all likelihood, crashed and tumbled to bits.

No inanimate invention of her design could impress the warmth and sincerity her repressed grief was in need of from another's ordinary touch.
A man's touch was a unique prize she didn't dream to find herself appreciating. Masato's touch, on the other hand, was a uniquely weird honor which Sadayo never dreamed of happening in a million years. A line was finally drawn between the Masato who once barreled his fist toward her body and the Masato who held her cheek with nary a second thought.

For fleeting moments she listens and watches his Sadayo really looked like she couldn't believe that this moment was actually happening. Her sights flutter close and her brows furrow further. Before the woman could stir herself to speak she manages a noise akin to a hum. The hum was short and stiff like she was on her way to spilling more tears and her hand taking the inching strides from her chin to the top of his was the pinnacle before toppling into more clunky, sad sounding hums were able to ebb through.

She slumps her neck forward with her hand plainly holding onto Masato's as it had been just beside her face. Sadayo couldn't tare his touch away no matter how her sober self might have argued. "Yes," she answers at last through sniffles. Although his words were sappy and sweet they were still horribly true and no less painful. There on, a good minute was spent just crying and simply not allowing Masato to have his hand back. Odds were that she was cornering Masato into an awkward position he might have not been enough of himself to slide away from. At some point, frankly, the not-at-all sober Sadayo must have been spared the chance thought of him and the pitting obligation into something uncomfortable. Even if Sadayo were on the receiving end of teary eyes there was a limit she could take.
Whether she stunned Masato or stunningly moved him to respond, somehow, during her tearful release she clumsily began to near toward an end of her cries. Her head was still slumped forward. Her second hand rose from her lap and cupped its twin still holding the fighter's hand. Sadayo began the stiff and clunky hums again before she bows her body forward with the bulky weight of her drunken stupor. Her clunky cries became a graceless, drunken laugh bolstering its way through her gloom and sounding as deceptive as ever: as if weighing on teetering odds that suggests she was going to just end up shedding tears instead. Sadayo's ponytails were still slunk over her shoulders in grief.
"Ooh," she said groggily. ""Your hand," She spoke, attempting to giggle through careless slurs . "I-I couldn't even get my own tear. Have you allwaays been this fast?" The top of her head may as well been grazing the chiseled muscles of his abdomen. She was laughing now, at least, still doing her best to hold his hand. A flutter in her liver area was either a dead fear trying to relive itself, something else entirely she couldn't surmise, or just the plain feeling going on while alcohol is rocking one's stability to the core. Sadayo pulls herself back up-right and detaches her grip on Masato's hand.

"I'm sorry. It. I shouldn't have." I shouldn't have cried out like that. I shouldn't have held your hand against your will. I shouldn't have infringed on your personal space. The woman was blatantly unable to tally in all she could have said and all the moment's apologies were tied to her tongue. Her eyes, in firelight, could show that there were just things she couldn't say. curves of shadow and light on his face.
"We've lost family. We've love-" Sadayo shook her head with her misspoken word and recovers "lost friends..." Her head slowly turns to stare into the bonfire, "we live." Sadayo returns her drained and jaded stare to Masato and cracks a flicker of smile. "Can't call it a triumph." Her sights settle with that dismal sentiment crossing her mind and trail down and along the curves of light and shadow on Masato's muscles.
She blinks and hurries to avert her eyes. A sway in her form carries her with.
" Call us shadows of glorious names." Her sights were sunk into the darkness of the forest just past the firelight on the trees. She blinked. Feeling the last of her little tears welling up. Another smile was beginning to curl. Sadayo swapped her stare for shadows back to Masato's face. "Aha... I guess that's not something ya' gotta be sad about. No one else to steal the glory of being glorious." Sadayo laughed again but the dismal tone in her noise only fed the sense of loneliness in her joke. "Ooh," she raised her head. "That was bad! If you ever thought I was just a shtick-uhm- too sthuffy for jokes then yeah! I'm no comedian! The weight of the world on your shoulders hasn't squashed out jokes from you yet, yeah? "
Too stuffy to make jokes.

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Kondo Kaicho

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[Kondo Kaicho]

Sadayo's tears, met by the hand of the less than sober Jinchuriki would be met by her own hand. He reveled at the glancing thought of the softness it bore. In his hazed state, the softness of her hand was all he could focus on. ' I didn't know...hands could be soft...' Another hand met his own as he knew somehow instinctual he was not his own to command in this moment. Her tears continued to fall as she brought the second hand with a delicate touch to his own. Her weight shifted, falling against him as she leaned forward. A hot sensation washed over his face, one greater than the liquor. His heart skipped, just a single beat. He felt his skin tingle over the entirety of his body, goosebumps forming over every pore. Her question posed to him would cause a slight laugh. " Fast enough, but only when it counts." he replied with a soft, assisted smile.

No sooner had he spoken would she withdraw her hands and began to stumble through some sort of apology. By now, the drink he had worked upon had taken full hold but it would not work against his will, only make the words of honest feelings and thoughts take life in the open. He felt as though he had phased out, losing memories of the past few seconds as he noted she was close to him. Her face was close to his face. Another skip. Another lump in his throat. What was he scared of? He had faced down men, demon and even gods...but now before this girl he felt more weak than he ever had. It wasn't his body that had lost it's strength, but his will. A silent force of will had kept him from acting upon what felt as his most basic instincts for several minutes as their conversation grew deeper. His lower lip now trembled, a bite cutting into the back as a final wave of resistance was briefly ignited and exstinguished.

Masato reached forward, his hand moving with practiced action thanks to his lifetime of brutality to snatch her hand back to his own but with a gentleness he had never known was his to command. A firm yet natural tug of his hand with hers back in his would attempt to command her back to his chest, closing the fading distance between their lips. He wasn't sure what exactly he was doing, he had never known this desire, this craving. Fingers intertwining hers as he held his position as long as she did hers. The two of them pressed against one another in the dim flame's light against a sycamore tree in total solitude. The unease he had felt leading to this had dissolved.

Hurrak

 

[Hurrak]

Sadayo◦❖◦Soga

Her eyes open wide. Masato’s swift seize of her hand was the last response she’d have cross her mind. Although Sadayo wouldn’t fight his hold. His bridled pull wasn’t anything even a sober Sadayo could’ve seen coming from him. His unyielding pull was alluring and intoxicating in its own right. Those muscles. Sadayo was just able to copy the bend of her fingers into the space between his. As her free moves to take his bare shoulder to steady her weight mid an exceptionally awkward lean forward with her knees splaying, barely unbending for an aspiring lift all for one kiss.

Her bosom beneath black cotton was adjacent to his heart. The same fluttering feelings return from before upon one enchanting thrill Sadayo could just barely discern beside a sleepy parting of her lip and idle, subtle tilt of her neck. Alas, her years worth of mental preparation for a favorable first kiss didn’t take any giddy intoxication into account. But it worked. She held her breath. The burn of their shared beverage carries upon his dreamy kiss and silences most of what drunk desire she had to prattle on to seem sober. She held her kiss as long as her held breath could last and tore away tenderly. She tried to catch a glimpse of his eyes. Spying a bewitching flicker of firelight in his striking, beguiling stare just before she dips into a daring nuzzle forward into his stalwart shoulder and refined curve of his neck. All the while, Sadayo’s ponytails shift along slowly from sullen sorrow to rather swell and fluff akin to the plush, carefree delight of cotton candy. “You kissed me,” she says airily through a snickering smile. Bouncy, exhilarated, and almost totally lost in how the steamy kiss was real. A long, heave of an inhale came before she spoke again through a stirring swoon. Her voice weaving through a tune both silken and lush to the senses like the split dress about her frame glowing in the firelight, “don’t tease me.” Why was this estranged wild beast always so terribly good-looking? Oh. This wasn’t a daydream about any fetching, bedraggled boy. This was as real as the warmth of his hands having still closed over hers. The closing distance kept anew through forgone passions she was slowly, ultimately losing herself in. Her clumsy position, ably hovering high and intruding over his lap, would just have to suffice.

Giggling upon a moment’s spur, Sadayo clutches his hand harder and quickly bows forward as she moves her free hand from his shoulder to catch some stray lock of Masato’s thick, disheveled hair grazing his shoulder. Dropping and pressing her cheek onto the center of his sternum. Humming constantly into more airy giggling before releasing his hair following an idle tug. The temptation to just lie innocently on his lap, sleep, and bask in the few hours she’d have in someone’s company was about as alluring as the fleeting looks she’d catch in Masato’s eyes. Instead, however, she quickly sprang as upright as she could manage and smiled again through the last bubbling sounds of her lively giggle. Her emotions seem to know no bounds, even so, after a first kiss.

Those forgone passions longing for an answer swept her in for another, delicate kiss.

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Kondo Kaicho

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[Kondo Kaicho]

A second pass at affection in progress, Masato's heart felt a tightening that he had not prepared for. This was, gentle, relaxed, yet at the core of the action they were performing...something more primal surged just beneath the surface. Sadayo's words weren't clear to him, the effects of his drink fighting against the equally powerful and entirely overwhelming effects of the heat of her skin eroded whatever hopes he'd had of self control. He could not describe the intense sensation that shook him as his head spun from a sensation entirely emotional, instinctual. As their lips parted, he bit down on his own, his eyes opening with unmatched focus on the contours of the woman's face. His hands freed their grip and slipped along the peaks of Sadayo's chest, finding their mark just below them before clenching tightly. With deeper passions than before, Masato's hands pulled the hips of the woman toward his own, allowing his newly tapped primal energies an outlet. His face slid past her own, his lips now finding purchase on the right side of her neck. His teeth teasing a more animalistic approach to the act that he found himself ready to commit, despite his efforts to subdue them.

With the final moments of clarity before he would give way to his desires, he whispered one, choked sentence between heavy breaths. "This is...okay?"

Hurrak

 

[Hurrak]

Sadayo◦❖◦Soga

Contrary to the wild man nipping her neck with teasing teeth. Even then, in an inebriated trance, some fraction of Sadayo knew these intense emotional responses were a tipping point risking something she left the imagination A tingle from her neck to her spine sings of wistful, giggle to sound her tonight. The half-hearted sense of worry. His touch to her hips, commencing a steamy tremor of her breath. By the same token, Sadayo answers him with an indulging embrace around his neck and seizes his waist with her boots.

“This is perfect,” she purrs. His tantalizing whisper against her neck. Any tangible moment of struggle was Sadayo’s rapid removal of her gloves. Her hands fighting amongst themselves to unsnap unruly buttons on her gloves between his equally unruly hair before discarding the measly accessories to the side. Bare fingertips alone would not at all suffice. Every curve, bend, and sculpted muscle on Masato’s frame were hers to graze and relish; evenly, Sadayo’s warmth and slender form through her silken dress were becoming his to appreciate Each kiss, each spontaneous touch and act to follow were as a savory attempt satisfied against each crave this chance encounter was to bring. All awhile a night’s choir of chirping insects, crinkling of tree leaves, and a fading bonfire kept them company.

Then the night was over. The earliest of early birds’ trill and tweedle with the sun glowing over the range prior to its daily crawl. Masato’s bonfire was cold and blanched with its powdery remains.

For just a sliver for a second, a stirring Sadayo was content with the belief her head was pressed awkwardly on top of her palms and she had left the window open in the bedroom of her lonely apartment. This was frankly a weird start because the noise was sounding like someone was running a loud, clunky woodchipper while struggling to fight off an angry tiger at the same level of her second-story apartment.

No. The recollection of reality was just lightly sinking that she was instead still out in the wilderness on an important job with no woodchippers and, hopefully, nobody fighting off a tiger at this moment in time. Sadayo was still working one, official job that had met one interesting and unexpected but benign setback. Now, having reasoned the snarling tiger away despite not even being fully aware, Sadayo was already unearthing some new sense of vague dread as she couldn’t at all recall herself walking away from the setback either.

The woman’s hand twitched as her senses, all but sight, rejoined the conscious world to feel out that her gloves were gone. One hand was cold while the other was warm against something that wasn’t at all her own person. It hit her. Bit by bit, Sadayo was finding she war far from being stiffly sloped over something as reasonable as warm pillows, an overstuffed vibrating backpack, or even a rock! Finally, she opens her eyes. On her side, Sadayo’s sights sink cautiously onto the heap she had been clinging to for warmth. No heap but instead an eyeful of bare sculpted skin and muscle.

In a snap, Sadayo lifts herself up just enough to take in the sight of one Wildman in a snoring slumber with a petrified, rattled stare quickly replacing groggy morning daze. Amidst the combination of shock and bewilderment, Sadayo took in the sights around her. The forest was still. Dew was apparent on disturbed grasses. The scent of smoke was gone from the air and was finally able to make sense of the tree trunk where she found Masato in the hush morning glow. A clay bottle had replaced him at the tree and the woman felt another layer of dread being stacked on.

A few feet away was a second vessel that was tipped over and her missing gloves weren’t at all far away. She felt weird and more so when the woman took notice of the mass of her own disorderly hair cast about her shoulders. No ponytails. Fragments of her memory attempting to recite themselves with each off-putting detail she happened to spy. Her trusty bag, for instance, was not where she could remember leaving it. Worse, familiar supplies once packed inside were strewn among the leaf litter. Sadayo’s precious, small puppetry scrolls were piled up like she dumped them out. For what? She was becoming aware of her own bedroll she must have fought with until it became the blanket covering them.

The woman’s boots, pants, and all other bits of clothing were on her as they should be despite some meager exceptions. Her dress was terribly wrinkled and stained green and black. Something was not right. All the while, the bits of memories were running together as Sadayo could return her mortified stare back down to Masato.

Sadayo's voice cracks and creaks a firm, very sober demand which she was on the verge of sounding twice:
“wake up.”

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ooc: Bro better have been snoring up a loud storm here, SIR.

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Kondo Kaicho