The Crazy Geezer

Yuki clansmen were known for their style. Tactical fabrics, armors, anything that would make them look deadly before they even had to draw a sword or senbon. Yet, a merchant knew the value of bulk purchases, and combining durability with ease of manufacture. Because of this, the Yuki would grace the streets in yet another one of his beige shirts, tan pants, and the boots of a pair which he used day on day off. No, he wasn’t a warrior or swordsman, not of the Yukis, so he never grew up with those senses. Instead, his father hammered into his mind the value of a good bargain, and Nobo wasn’t one to say no to saving a couple ryo that could be well spent on food or alcohol, or swords.

Yet, what he really wanted was a block of cured pork meat. He would render that beauty with garlic and ginger, and make a soup so tasty, his ancestors would be able to smell it in the Peaceful Land. When he got out of the butcher with the block of meat, he made his way down the street. Amidst the people that moved up and down the street, it seemed something was happening a ways down the street. An orange topped giant waved in the distance, ‘grab him’ he called.

Cold eyes peered the crowd for what he meant, and without hesitating, he formed a single seal and aimed a stream of bubbly water to where the crowds parted; soon enough, a man carrying the Emporium’s Golden Stag showed his dishelved self, and before he realized what was he started slipping down along the street; the Yuki moved forward, grabbing the man’s wrist before he hurt himself, and grabbing the Golden Stag before it hit the floor and got damaged. “A… A…. A little hELP!” He cried out, flexing his entire body to maintain the old man from the floor with one hand while holding the Golden Stag above the ground.

Now he slipped on the bubbly water, he thought as his muscles began protesting this exertion. Followed closely by the grand merchant, a man of clear physical prowess, if the way he closed the distance without breaking a sweat was any indication that he just didn’t just sit behind a desk, moving pencils and counting pennies, and soon enough, just as the Uzumaki made contact with the old man, the merchant took the golden stag from the Yuki’s hand. Relieve shot up and down his arms in cold sweats, and he leaned back, stretching his protesting lower back.

“I’m not getting young again, am I?” lamented the white haired. The Merchant scowled at the comment, before turning his attention to the old man. He explained how the war had left the man a shell of his former self, before asking that they let him go. A pang of pity was plucked from the heartstrings of the Yuki, but even that solemn moment was robbed from him. “Destiny”, rasped the voice.

With the mission inadvertently complete, the merchant would write a letter to the mission board, which in turn would allow the duo to collect the reward. That was a good thing too; he had just dropped a slab of meat in a gutter for this golden stag.