It was early in the morning. The sun was out, the birds were chirping. For the Village Hidden in the Mist, it was a nice day. Only a light, subtle layer of the fog that normally plagued the village was present, and visibility wasn’t significantly obstructed by it. Despite the level of natural serenity that was present in the early morning hours, the village was experiencing more activity right now than it had in a long time. The Chunin Exams brought foreigners from all over into Kirigakure’s ports, and flooded the village with their presence. Not just foreign shinobi, but also family members, spectators, merchants, scouts, and all sorts who were attracted by the spectacle of the event in some way or another. That wasn’t even taking into account the political circus that was going on, and which the fallout of would surely have to be dealt with. It resulted in more activity than could otherwise be justifiable at this hour.
It was something that could be seen in the depths of the city’s Hozuki District. Crowds of people would be out and about, scurrying around and filling the air with a white noise of their chatter. One of these many scurrying ants was a young adult who stood out and away from the crowd, enough so that they could be identified from up and above without a doubt. Dressed with an offensive amount of the color pink, up to having their entire hair dyed in the color, they appeared to almost be a mockery of what were social norms. The thick braid of dyed pink hair stood out as something else among the universal white that was genetic to the Hozuki Clan, but what was most offensive was the way this person was dressed. While not immediately obvious through just appearance alone, Chigetsu had a reputation that proceeded them in the Hozuki District. He was the cross dresser, the strange pink-haired one, and even if they did a convincing job in how he presented himself the illusion that he hid under would never take here. The looks and whispers that his presence drew with each step down the street was something common now for him while here, back at home.
And home was where he unfortunately had to go. Perhaps the reluctance could be observed from his body language. It was obviously no pleasure for him to be the spectacle of the neighborhood. His destination would eventually be reached all the same, and Chigetsu entered onto the property of a familiar villa. While cold in the back of his mind, the same steps would be retraced up the stone passageway, leading to the property’s front door. With only a few moments of hesitation preceding it, he would give three knocks of his knuckles against the front door.
It was something that could be seen in the depths of the city’s Hozuki District. Crowds of people would be out and about, scurrying around and filling the air with a white noise of their chatter. One of these many scurrying ants was a young adult who stood out and away from the crowd, enough so that they could be identified from up and above without a doubt. Dressed with an offensive amount of the color pink, up to having their entire hair dyed in the color, they appeared to almost be a mockery of what were social norms. The thick braid of dyed pink hair stood out as something else among the universal white that was genetic to the Hozuki Clan, but what was most offensive was the way this person was dressed. While not immediately obvious through just appearance alone, Chigetsu had a reputation that proceeded them in the Hozuki District. He was the cross dresser, the strange pink-haired one, and even if they did a convincing job in how he presented himself the illusion that he hid under would never take here. The looks and whispers that his presence drew with each step down the street was something common now for him while here, back at home.
And home was where he unfortunately had to go. Perhaps the reluctance could be observed from his body language. It was obviously no pleasure for him to be the spectacle of the neighborhood. His destination would eventually be reached all the same, and Chigetsu entered onto the property of a familiar villa. While cold in the back of his mind, the same steps would be retraced up the stone passageway, leading to the property’s front door. With only a few moments of hesitation preceding it, he would give three knocks of his knuckles against the front door.
