Kanon despaired as she looked at her gourd. It was ginormous, looking rather unwieldy to carry and certainly not belonging someone as small and (seemingly) delicate as herself. But then again, neither did the windmill shuriken she was carrying on her back, nor the large beating stick she was hefting over her shoulder. She was tiny, but everything about her screamed larger than life. Even her state of dress didn’t seem to suit what was meant to be a ninja, seeming more like a courtesan than a shinobi.
But her eyes didn’t lie. They regarded the environment with sharp precision, always on the lookout, always cautious, just like she’d trained. Usually. At the moment, she was focused on her very empty gourd of sake. Though one would usually not even be able to stand up after drinking so much, the petite woman in question, however, seemed only mildly tipsy.
After her meeting with Hikari-chan, she’d begun thinking about a few things… friendship, bonds, connections… and she realised she didn’t have many of those. Her mother, some of the girls at the brothel, and most recently, Hikari-chan. She knew no one of the shinobi world, no one she could truly call a friend.
She had an opportunity to change that now.
Travelling to Nikkousato would be a good opportunity to forge new bonds, expand her horizons, perhaps even learn new things. She was well aware of the tensions between the two villages at the moment, and she wanted to make new bonds while she could.
And perhaps prevent a war.