Cries of the Forest

13

It had been a noticeably longer time since he'd last seen Shika, longer even than that time before he ventured into The Village recklessly. (He never did get his skins and beads back; hopefully, they were still hidden in that alleyway. If not, he could always dry some more clay beads. He had more than enough 'rope' to spare to make more necklaces, but that wasn't important.)

What was important was that he kind of missed Shikamaru. He was the best playmate, always willing to play his games and show him around.

It used to be so easy, just going day by day doing nothing but living and breathing with The Forest. Now he got bored far too easily, and it didn't help that Shika had other things to do. (He'd mentioned 'missions' once or twice, yeah?) 

Boredom, he found, was very dangerous. It made him do stupid things like go back to The Village despite clearly remembering what happened last time. But maybe this time it wouldn't be so bad. After all, now he knew what to expect; (not to mention he now knew of the existence of that stand selling 'ramen.')

Yeah! He'd just drop by for a quick look; he could handle it.

~~~

He'd briefly remembered of the trade he'd done to get that bowl of ramen, so his adventure had been slightly delayed by his gathering of 'wide caps,' as he liked to call them, mushrooms to The People of Ichiraku Ramen. 

So now, once again, he stood before a loosely guarded section of the wooden wall. 

Shika had said he'd make it so it was okay for him to be in The Village, but that didn't mean he knew what to do at the open section where people wrote or recited information he wouldn't know. He knew that was where he should normally go, but he'd seen a few People swathed in more layers than necessary be taken away by People with more chakra, wearing vests like Shika's. He didn't know where they went, but he didn't want to end up like them.

Thus, he decided he'd just go in like how he did last time.

Gently parting the bits of latent chakra still present in the wood, (he shivered at how cold and dead they were,) he once more used the energy to let him through to the other side. He was thankful that he hadn't been caught, given that the bright attire he'd donned from last time was much more conspicuous than his natural skins would ever be.

Now it was just a matter of trying not to attract attention and also finding the shrine of ramen. (Somehow he suspected the latter would be easier, regardless of him not knowing its precise location. . . ) He figured it would probably be best to recreate how he found Ichiraku last time, (minus that terrifying feeling of being chased prey.) That is, just follow the nose.

The smells were just as pungent as they were last time, but at least he knew what he was trying to pick out from the cloud of unnatural perfumes. Thankfully, the smell of good food was easy to differentiate from the vaguely flowery scents the women liked so much.

Eyes drooping half-mast, he drooled at the thought of that large bowl that was just waiting for him to eat it. Maybe he'll try a different type this time?

There were more places to sit this time, no feeling of swarming People pushing at his back. Maybe it was the time of day? Did that matter to them? Oh well, that just means fewer things to distract from his ramen.

Plopping down on the furthermost stool, he eagerly unloaded the many pockets of wide caps he'd manage to find. Surely this would be enough in place of those circles of 'ryo.'