A More Chill Time at the Yakusai Inn

A scowl adorned the face of the man sitting in a corner booth. The night was beginning to fall and the crowd was only barely beginning to form, but they kept a wide berth from him. His wild orange hair danced like fire in the subtle breeze of the inn door opening and closing, but it always seemed to fall in some sort of manic position. His piercing blue eyes stared daggers into the table such that one might think he'd bore through it with enough time.

Behind this fearsome visage, his thoughts raced: Look at this, the surface slab is askew! I could have done a better job in a blackout! Of course, his judgement was only for the pettiest of observations; he wasn't angry at all, just focused and that was how his face relaxed. There was little else to do; it was Sho's turn to get the drinks, after all.

The light chatter at the bar section of the inn was of a mostly pleasant quality. However, as more people trickled in from work, the volume was elevated. Chief among them, our favorite surgeon from Konoha. Innocence Uchiha had been sitting at the bar mingling with a few resident physicians from the local hospital. The conversation was mostly polite and cordial in the beginning. Innocence had just been happy to have a medical shinobi to commiserate with. It took the stress of the Exams off her mind and allowed her a chance to have an intellectually stimulating conversation with someone who shared her professional aspirations. Unfortunately, the conversation took a rather nasty dive when Innocence began to realize that what passed for acceptable knowledge in the Minor Nations was not a tenth as rigorous as what was expected in Konoha. The subject of discussion had turned from their experiences as residents to the controversial and mysterious "plague." The O'uzu residents had tried to explain their opinions on the disease to Innocence but the more they spoke, the angrier she got. The conversation escalated to a debate and the debate to an argument. One that could be heard from nearly any point in the inn. So much for a chill night.

"Just like the Sapienza virus....."
"It doeth not come from the Thapienza viruth you jackathth!"
"I don't care where it comes from Innocence. The identical family structure o-"
"IT HATH TO COME FROM THE THAME VIRUTH TO BE IN THE THAME FAMILY, VIRUTHETH COME IN FAMILIETH!"

Innocence was now roaring angry. She hadn't had a sip of anything except a virgin mojito with extra lime, but you wouldn't know it by the sound of her voice. The young black girl was wearing her signature lab coat, but her expression was not as professional as her attire. There was a prominent vein bulging out of her temple and she was continuously raising her voice as she tried to argue with the rank stupidity that was coming out of the resident's mouth. Innocence was a stickler for medical truth and because many Minor Nations lacked the sophisticated research teams that the Major Villages had, their scholarship was downright shoddy. The ultimate origin of the plague was a significant subject of controversy in this regard. Unwilling to accept the mysteries and dead-ends that science had run into while trying to trace the origin of the ailment, certain journals began making up non-existent connections between the plague and pre-existing viruses. The connections were dubious and largely unsupported by studies, but it did not stop the ignorant from spreading such misinformation. Even those holding a medical degree had begun to cite such atrocious work. Innocence had worked on multiple peer-reviewed publications related to the plague and so she took it as a personal insult whenever someone mouthed off on the topic without knowing certain facts.

Innocence would continue to argue with the residents but to no avail. They were still rather inexperienced and now they felt obligated to defend their education. The genin would thus proceed to become further frustrated. The vicious cycle would escalate the argument and threaten to spoil the peaceful evening of everyone in the inn.

Sho maneuvered through the growing crowd with practiced ease, balancing two frothy mugs in his hands. His tall, lean frame made him stand out, but it was his calm, steady demeanor that truly set him apart. His blade Salamandra resting quietly on his belt, remaining silent amidst the commotion of the inn. Unlike his friend, Sho's expression was serene, almost detached, as if he were merely a spectator in this bustling inn. To the untrained eye, Sho might seem at a disadvantage, navigating without sight with a blindfold over his face. However, his heightened senses painted a vivid picture of his surroundings through sound. The rhythmic thud of boots on wooden floorboards, the clink of coins exchanging hands, and the soft murmur of conversations formed a detailed map in his mind.

The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread mingled with the tang of spilled ale, creating an intoxicating aroma that filled the air. Sho moved with purpose, sidestepping a serving girl with a tray of steaming dishes and ducking under the outstretched arm of a gesticulating storyteller recounting his latest tall tale. The cacophony of voices, a blend of various dialects and tones, was like music to his ears, guiding him effortlessly through the throng. He returned to Tamashi at their corner booth by memory from where he had left the other man. The booth, slightly secluded and shadowed, offered a modicum of privacy amidst the chaos, most avoiding the table for the simple aura that Tamashi exhibited.

As he approached, even blind he could sense Tamashi's irritation almost seeing the scowl on the man's face at the uneven table surface. Sho slid into the booth and placed the mugs down carefully, giving Tamashi a knowing smile. "Your usual critique of the carpentry?" Sho asked, his voice low but laced with humor. He pushed one of the mugs toward Tamashi before taking a sip from his own drink, savoring the moment. The ale was rich and smooth, a testament to the inn's reputation for quality brews. "Here's to another night of observing the inn's fine... craftsmanship." He added with a slight chuckle, as he held up his mug to toast with Tamashi. Their momentary respite was interrupted by a sudden commotion.

A woman’s voice, shrill and panicked, cut through the din. A woman yelled something about a virus, drawing Sho's attention as well as likely everyone else in the inn. The argument was becoming a spectacle, threatening to ruin the evening for everyone present. Sho turned his head slightly, his senses honing in on the disturbance. He could hear the rustle of fabric, the scrape of chairs being pushed back, and the rising murmur of curiosity and concern. "Sounds like someone's having a rough night," Sho murmured to Tamashi, his tone light despite the likelihood of a brewing storm. He could almost feel the collective tension rising, the room holding its breath in anticipation of what might happen next.

"Your usual critique of the carpentry?"

Tamashi shook his head, snapping out of his trance at the familiar voice. He smiled widely, though it was anyone's guess if it were towards his friend or the drinks in his hands. Regardless, his violent expression was suddenly replaced with one of warmth and even gratitude. As the drink came his way, he gladly accepted it and took several rapid gulps in succession- it had been awhile since he had such fine ale, but such was life on the road.

"Here's to another night of observing the inn's fine... craftsmanship."

"Look," Tamashi started, knowingly shaking his head at the absurdity of obsessing over such a detail, "tables have one job! To be a flat surface on which to put our crap! Is it so crazy to think they'd be up to the task??" He didn't really care, and Sho would know that, but these were the kind of things he looked at to keep his mind busy.

It was then that a young woman at the bar started some kind of commotion, about medicine no less. Pursing his lips and raising his eyebrows, he couldn't help but understand the impulse to freak out like that at what sounded like an idiot. Thapienza viruth? Is she talking about the Sapienza virus? Well, obviously not- but he is...

"Sounds like someone's having a rough night,"

"Yeah, well, better her than us!" Tamashi lifted his drink once again in a toast, chuckling slightly. Still, she had grabbed his attention and he would continue to watch her and her conversation. As he did so, his focus narrowing in, his smile faded and his eyelids dropped in an indifferent stare. If she were to make eye contact, it might even feel aggressive.

With a loud protest from his stomach for some sustenance, it took Ningyu a long time to work up the nerve to do as he seen other do; go to the man behind the counter and request some food. But this was the first time he had left his forest in the Lightning Country, seemingly ready to explore the world. Instead of rotting away in the same spot, watching at plants grow.
Inside the Inn, the short man, maneuvered his way through the crowd of people, his head shoulder height to most. They all gave him a strange look. Most likely because of the peculiar mask he wore. But there was no way in the underworld that he was taking it off. He would rather the curious looks over the disgusted looks, he imagined people would give him, if they seen his face.

Ningyu pressed his chest against the bar and rested his hands on the edge. He stood there, silently and patiently waiting to be served. He was completely oblivious to how this transaction worked, only read about it in books. Trading food and services for Ryo, a form of currency, that Ningyu never actually seen, let alone owned, before. So of course he was broke, but he was still willing to try and get some scraps at least. Just to quell his stomach.
The man behind the bar absently stepped in front of Ningyu, twisting a rag around and inside of a mug. "What can I do for y-" The steward's words were cut off as he looked up and actually got a look at his patron and a mixture of emotions played across his face, before he composed himself, and smiled. "Sorry about that. I was caught off guard with your mask. What can I get for you?" He asked. His tone and demeanor welcoming.
The Steward had to ask Ningyu to repeat himself a few times, before the young man could shake the nerves and gain control over the volume of his voice. "Can I get some food?" He asked, in a louder tone than he was ever used to, his mask muffling his voice, as he tried to speak over the crowd. "Anything specific you want to eat, kid? Food is kind of a vast answer" The steward chuckled.
"Uh. I'm not really sure. I'll take anything." Ningyu stated sheepishly. He honestly wasn't sure what they served or what he was really for. He just needed food
The steward paused for a moment, staring at Ningyu. It seemed like he was trying to read his mind or figure out what kind of food he preferred. He finally smiled "Alrighty. I'll make something easy, like a roast beef sandwich. But...Hm..." He paused again, eyeing Ningyu again, trying to find the words without being offensive. "I'd hate to ask, but do you have the Ryo to pay?" He asked with a somber tone. "No." Ningyu said, his mask dipping low as he lowered his head in defeat. "I'm sorry, kid. I wish I could help you but I can't afford to just give food away. I hope you understand" The steward said regrettably, walking away before Ningyu could beg any further.
Ningyu didn't say a word, just stepped away from the bar, his shoulders slumped, and stomach growling even louder. He walked through the Inn, clutching his stomach, trying to stop the rumbling, but to no avail. He paused at an empty table that had a plate of the same roast beef sandwich the steward was offering to make him, but it looked like someone had taken a few bites out of it.  At this point, he was desperate and didn't care. He even grabbed the mug of the foamy liquid in a mug.
"Hey, you little shit! That's my food!" A man roared from across the room. Ningyu paused with the sandwich in his mouth. His eyes bulged once he seen the man pushing through the crowd at a hurried pace. And he didn't look happy. Ningyu hunched over and began crawling on the floor, navigating through an abundance of legs, trying to escape. He crawled under a table that had a girl arguing with another man about something he couldn't quite comprehend, but he bumped her leg with his shoulder, along the way. He was a ragged black blur, though.
Not really knowing where he was going, Ningyu managed to slip under the blind man and the man with fire hair. At least that's what it looked like to him. The angry man pausing several feet away, twisting his head around in each direction, trying to locate Ningyul. Once he caught sight of him, hiding under a table, he barreled for that very table. Stopping short, though, when he noticed the two men sitting there, one man with a wrap around his eyes and another larger man with feiry orange hair. He stared at them, but Ningyu still pushed himself backwards, right into Tamashi's shins.

Sho's senses were finely tuned to the inn's bustling atmosphere, the ebb and flow of conversations, and the occasional raised voice. Tamashi's irritation over the uneven table was a familiar refrain, one that brought a slight smile to Sho's lips. He took another sip of his ale, savoring the rich flavor as he listened to the rising commotion at the bar. The blindfold over his eyes did little to impede his perception. Sho could sense that the inn's atmosphere had shifted subtly, a tension threading through the air like a taut string ready to snap. Tamashi's comment about the tables brought a chuckle from Sho. "You'd think they'd get it right at least once," he replied with a smirk, his tone teasing. "But then, what would you have to complain about?"

Their lighthearted exchange was abruptly interrupted by a new disturbance. Sho's acute hearing picked up the sound of a struggle, a man's angry shout cutting through the din. He tilted his head, honing in on the source of the noise. A young man, by the sound of it, scuttling through the crowd, desperate and scared.  Sho's senses caught the approach of the furious man, his heavy footsteps and labored breathing unmistakable. The sudden presence of the young man at their table didn't go unnoticed. Sho felt the subtle shift in the air as the boy tried to hide. His hand moving to the hilt of Salamandra as the angry man approached, but he wouldn't draw his blade, yet. It would be unseemly for him to draw his blade if he didn't need to use it.

He leaned slightly towards Tamashi, his voice a calm whisper. "Seems like we've got a guest," he said, amusement tinging his words. "And it seems he's in a bit of trouble." The angry man halted a few feet from their table, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of Sho and Tamashi. Sho's serene expression remained unchanged, his senses focused on the man’s posture and the tension in his muscles. He was ready to act if necessary, but he preferred to diffuse the situation with words first. Sho addressed the angry man, his voice steady and composed. "Is there a problem, sir?" he asked, a subtle but undeniable authority in his tone his hand still resting upon Salamandra's hilt as he stood between the man and their table.

"How about you just turn around now, before you get hurt. We are trying to enjoy this nice day, I would hate to have to cause a mess in this lovely inn because you don't know how to act right." He felt Tamashi's presence beside him, a reassuring force that added weight to his words. Sho's calm demeanor and the underlying threat of Tamashi's formidable presence were often enough to make most think twice before escalating a conflict. Sho was prepared to mediate the situation, ready to protect their unexpected guest if needed, though he doubted that the man would wish to confront the two of them considering they already had grown a reputation. Most saw the blind man and the intimidating ginger and kept their distance because of their reputation.

"Pfft," Tamashi scoffed as he turned from the woman at the bar to his blind friend- a polite habit that he rolled his eyes at every time he did so. "Are you underestimating me?" A playful smile was soon met with the edge of his glass, there was nothing he couldn't complain about.

"Hey, you little shit! That's my food!"

The man was loud, and it was all Tamashi could do but watch the little shit darting across the floor and beneath their table. A kid, no less, he whispered back as he felt Ningyu press against his shins. The sighted of the duo rose up, towering over the man as Sho spoke. Despite his pleasant smile, the atmosphere was certainly enough to send most packing. With a flare of his eyes, a sudden yellow overtaking the blue before disappearing just as quickly, Tamashi's smile turned almost fiendish.

"I-ugh! Never mind!" With an indignant scowl, and a look up and down the blind man, he cowered away like so many others. Tamashi would sit down as well, still feeling the boy at his feet. "You can come on up, kiddo, the coast is clear."