Shizuka sighed softly, fixing the wakizashi and katana at her side. Her hakama, which was a plain gray color, was larger than she had anticipated it being. It did the job she wanted it to, but she still felt a little overwhelmed by it. Perhaps she could adjust it later? Soft whispers in the city filled her ears as she walked with purpose, but with no destination in mind. Her posture was straight, her shoulders pulled back showcasing a hint of confidence, but also humility. There was rumor of a man in this city who knew someone important. Someone who could train her to properly wield her father's blade, and make something of herself.
"You'll find the man you're looking for inside Hiroto's tea shop," a man had told her. The word's echoed in her mind as she glanced at the signs littered about. The city of Kyoto was a bustling thing, merchants trying to sell their produce or trinkets, and villagers trying to negotiate prices. The only signs she was able to discern were those of the vendors. She couldn't find this Hiroto's shop. She must have passed by another four shops before a sigh of defeat escaped her thin lips. She placed her hand on the hilt of her katana, pushing it forward a bit before allowing her hand to rest gently on it. Perhaps she should ask for more direction? She glanced around for the first person she could spot, and pulled the soft smile off of her lips, replacing it instead with a tight frown. Her entire features, once soft and serene, were now harsh and calloused.
"Excuse me, can you tell me where to find Hiroto-san's shop?" she asked, her voice deeper and at once light. This was, perhaps, the hardest part in pulling of her guise. Her voice was naturally frail sounding and light, almost too feminine for even herself, however; she managed to sharpen the soft corners of it to muster a more masculine voice. The man she spoke to, however, seemed a little skepitcal. He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised in slight confusion before glancing over her attire and posture. Anything out of place would surely give her away as a woman, however; she was used to the scrutiny. She was used to getting weird stares because of her appearance. Even as a child, people would look at her with mild curiosity or plain disgust.
"Yer standing in front of it," the man finally replied, his kansai-ben dialect apparent. Shizuka merely blinked slowly, turned and glanced upon the building she was, indeed, looking for. She turned back towards the man, her face pulled in total neutrality, and offered him a bow and thanks. "All kinds of weird folk coming up here," he spoke beneath his breath. Shizuka merely ignored him and walked into the small shop. It was filled with scents that overwhelmed her at first, some of the jasmine tea that was being served, and most of it from the smell of the men who occupied it.
The shop itself wasn't dirty, but it could have used a bit of a tender hand, something that caused Shizuka's own hand to twitch. She ignored it, and surveyed the perimeter. She was looking for a man who stuck out like a sore thumb, but none seemed to stand out in that way - at least not at first. It wasn't until she spotted a man with unusual hair the color of the sun, and she immediately made her way towards him. Once she was near him, she stopped a few feet back, adjusted herself and posture before resuming her walk.
"Are you him" she spoke, asking if he was the man. She had no other description to go by, and this man was the only one who fit the description given.
"You'll find the man you're looking for inside Hiroto's tea shop," a man had told her. The word's echoed in her mind as she glanced at the signs littered about. The city of Kyoto was a bustling thing, merchants trying to sell their produce or trinkets, and villagers trying to negotiate prices. The only signs she was able to discern were those of the vendors. She couldn't find this Hiroto's shop. She must have passed by another four shops before a sigh of defeat escaped her thin lips. She placed her hand on the hilt of her katana, pushing it forward a bit before allowing her hand to rest gently on it. Perhaps she should ask for more direction? She glanced around for the first person she could spot, and pulled the soft smile off of her lips, replacing it instead with a tight frown. Her entire features, once soft and serene, were now harsh and calloused.
"Excuse me, can you tell me where to find Hiroto-san's shop?" she asked, her voice deeper and at once light. This was, perhaps, the hardest part in pulling of her guise. Her voice was naturally frail sounding and light, almost too feminine for even herself, however; she managed to sharpen the soft corners of it to muster a more masculine voice. The man she spoke to, however, seemed a little skepitcal. He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised in slight confusion before glancing over her attire and posture. Anything out of place would surely give her away as a woman, however; she was used to the scrutiny. She was used to getting weird stares because of her appearance. Even as a child, people would look at her with mild curiosity or plain disgust.
"Yer standing in front of it," the man finally replied, his kansai-ben dialect apparent. Shizuka merely blinked slowly, turned and glanced upon the building she was, indeed, looking for. She turned back towards the man, her face pulled in total neutrality, and offered him a bow and thanks. "All kinds of weird folk coming up here," he spoke beneath his breath. Shizuka merely ignored him and walked into the small shop. It was filled with scents that overwhelmed her at first, some of the jasmine tea that was being served, and most of it from the smell of the men who occupied it.
The shop itself wasn't dirty, but it could have used a bit of a tender hand, something that caused Shizuka's own hand to twitch. She ignored it, and surveyed the perimeter. She was looking for a man who stuck out like a sore thumb, but none seemed to stand out in that way - at least not at first. It wasn't until she spotted a man with unusual hair the color of the sun, and she immediately made her way towards him. Once she was near him, she stopped a few feet back, adjusted herself and posture before resuming her walk.
"Are you him" she spoke, asking if he was the man. She had no other description to go by, and this man was the only one who fit the description given.