Weed control. (D-rank mission.)

mission:

The house before Yamamoto was a mess. An overgrown front garden, a barely visible path and windows that were broken in a few places by the onslaught of vines. The Kunochi found herself more than a little surprised that the house had been allowed to degenerate to this state but then she realised, the one employing her was an elderly lady so perhaps it was understandable that her house was in this state.

Yamamoto strode down the garden path, clutching her sword in one hand and a pair of garden shears in the over, while wearing a thick pair of gardening gloves and wellington boots. Gardening was something she had experience in as while her garden was not exactly the most aesthetically attractive thing in the world, it was very well kept entirely thanks to Yamamoto’s efforts. However today her mission demanded said efforts would be devoted to this house.

She walked up to the front door of the house and knocked upon it, fist rapping against the wooden surface of the door and then, silence. She waited patiently for a few moments, hearing no sound of movement from within and considered knocking again, even bringing her fist towards the door to do so. However, it was at that exact moment she heard the sound of a lock being undone and so Yamamoto lowered her fist to her side. The door opened, revealing an elderly lady supported by a wooden walking stick.

“Hello Obāsan, my name is Yamamoto. I am the kunoichi you requested to assist with your weeds? May I see my way to your garden please?” She smiled softly, bowing slightly as a form of respect.

“Oh. Yes. Please follow me through deary.” The elderly lady walked through the house, shuffling rather quickly through the hall, the dining room and to the patio facing door. She was surprisingly quick given her advanced age and apparent reliance upon a cane. The garden was even worse than the front one, a mottled mass of overgrown vines choking out the life of any other plant.

“Okay Obāsan. I will handle this.” She grabbed the handle to the patio door and pulled it open, a task of understandable ease once she put down the shears in her hand. She walked into the garden and unsheathed her sword, the glint of the blade shining in the light of the day. She wished she had brought a scythe or a sickle but all she had was her sword and a pair of shears.

The swordsman got to work, swinging her blade to cut down the most overgrown of the vines. She started with the ones closest to the house’s kitchen window, slicing them at the base so as to make pulling them free easier. Yamamoto sheathed her sword, the rasp of the blade sliding into the scabbard disturbing the otherwise tranquil ambiance of the garden. She propped her sword up against the wall of the house and got to work pulling the vines away from the window, working it free from where it had broken through the glass.

Yamamoto dropped the vines into a plastic bin bag she had gotten out earlier, intending to dispose of these vines somewhere. She did feel rather bad for this elderly lady. She seemed to live entirely by herself, with few family members to call upon when she needed them. It was a sad reality really and while some small part of Yamamoto felt pity for her, she also knew there was little she could do beyond helping out today anyway. That was something she could do.

Cut and pull, pull and discard. Yamamoto returned to slicing her way through the most overgrown of the vines, her sword more than sharp enough to cut through these surprisingly thick vines. Part of her was curious how things were allowed to get this bad to start with. She was aware the elderly lady lacked the physical fitness to fight with these vines but surely she could have hired a Shinobi sooner rather than later no? Oh well. Regardless, it meant money for Yamamoto.

She eventually cut the vines down to the point where she found the source of them, the original plant that was responsible for such monstrous dominance of the garden. It was impressive, and rather concerning, that one single plant was responsible for this but now that Yamamoto had cut her way to it and just trimmed back all of its vines, she was ready to give it a desperately needed pruning.

She returned her sword to its scabbard, the steel secured inside as the swordsman went back to grab the shears, depositing another huge pile of vines into the massive bin bag from before. She soon returned with the shears and cut the vine down to a reasonable size. Yamamoto did wish to entirely remove the plant given how it seemed to be a pest but the missions specified to not remove the offending plants entirely, so she left it.

Now came the front of the house. The front garden was shockingly not as overgrown as the rear but it was still going to be a great deal of effort. Yamamoto had carried her sword, the shears and the now stuffed bin bag to the front of the house, with a second bin bag stuffed into her pocket. The Kunoichi soon got to work, slicing apart the vines and repeating much of
the same as she had done in the back garden. Vines were cut, plants were trimmed back and the organic refuge was shoved into black plastic bags for easy disposal.

By the time Yamamoto had finished the day had grown old, the crimson sun hiding behind the mountains that surrounded the village. She looked over her work, smiling with satisfaction at the clean and orderly garden, the plants having been trimmed down to a much more manageable, and dare she say attractive, degree. She shoved the last of the vines into the bin bag before returning to the elderly lady.

“I have finished Obasan.” The door opened, the elderly lady walking outside upon her cane to investigate the work.

“Thank you young lady. Would you like to come in for tea?” It was an odd offer but one Yamamoto accepted. She walked inside, taking a seat upon the spare couch where she was presented with a cup of green tea. The duo would spend the next hour drinking tea and chatting together, even if it was more accurate to say Yamamoto spent most of the time listening to this elderly lady sharing stories of her youth.

Once the evening grew even later and it became urgent for Yamamoto to take her leave (she did need to cook dinner after all) the swordsman would rise from the couch, bowing respectfully as she made her way to the door.

“[color=grey]Thank you for your generosity Obasan. Do please take care.[color]” There was a gentle wave, an exchange of goodbyes between the two and then the swordsman returned home, stopping off along the way to drop off the plant matter at the house of a neighbour. He was always making compost and so they appreciated the donation. Once that was done she simply returned home, made dinner, ate it then spent the rest of her evening either training or resting.

[Exit thread/mission complete]