Cloner's Blues, an overdue meeting?

[Darkarma]

What the wind carves, humans can and will fill.
❦

Cloner’s Blues

Hatchling

2.05

When two foreign Shinobi’s eyes meet…!
Oh, I know you? The heat was unbearable, making the worst summers in Konoha feel like winter. For the two girls, currently under the weight of an overbearing sun, the only saving grace was the howling wind that flowed past them with an eerie whistle against the cliff-carved monastery—an abandoned monastery.

A particularly nasty gale tugged at Ururu’s braid and sent Hikaru’s hair flying, but it left her forehead dry and threatened to crack her lips. The wind wicked sweat away by the gallon.

“How can anyone live here?” Ururu muttered for what was likely the thousandth time.

Three months of her life having been spent exploring dunes, selling stone jewelry, and trying to find any hint of locations to lost ruins hidden by the sand. And for her effort? A sack of cash and a few torn scraps of cloth maps that had to be a hundred years old or fake.

Both she and Hikaru had hoped that this monastery would have something written in something more durable than cotton, but so far, nothing. People were friendly, though. Unfortunately, none were particularly knowledgeable about the faith that once found a haven in this cliff-side crevasse.

Places like this were commonly used by travelers seeking refuge from sandstorms and extreme weather.

With a smile, half worn away by sand and grueling hours of the day, Ururu handed off a freshly enchanted beaded necklace for five ryo. The ‘kindly’ old woman gave her a bow with rich silk around her face, then walked away.

That had been a particularly tiring customer. But the business was business, so Ururu gave a good ten-count be flopping backward. Smaller gold, silver, and opaque gems scattered on the tatami mat she had been hawking her wares from. Her head landed behind a misshapen rock indented a hundred times over with hand prints, as if the granite had turned to clay.

“That’s it,” She growled. “I’m done.”

Hikaru glared down from above, her body bent at the waist, her hands on hips, her gold hair and pale pink clothes fluttering in the wind. A little heat like this wouldn’t do her in like it would for Ururu. No, Hikaru's body was perfect, from the tips of her hair to the soles of her feet. The only way exhaustion ever showed up on this masterpiece of a body would be because either Ururu had made a grave mistake or someone was trying to kill them.

“Well best wrap up now, someone’s… meandering our way.”

Fuck.

Scampering, Ururu began shoveling the fake riches into her satchel by the handful. She had plenty of money now. She didn’t need to sell more for today.

No, she was going to find the first establishment in this place with running water and prune herself to death.

No more business!

The tatami mat was half rolled up when she cottoned Hikaru’s sudden growing alarm in the Network and a shadow crossing over her.

Double fuck.

Woodenly, her head arched to see a sight that she honestly shouldn’t have been surprised by. It was Wind Country, after all. Conquered or not, Ninja lived here.

Her breath hitched, but she forced her throat to work.“Ikanabi-sensei we… sort of meet again?” Ururu gritted out.

They may not have talked, but it would have been foolish to not show respect to a crazy shinobi.