The Fruit Girl [Eira Tayoro]

The number one strategy for selling anything, is to be where the people are. This is what Eira was told by her boss everyday. He owned the fruit shop, but it wasn't in any prime location for selling. So his strategy? Send out workers, with baskets full of it, so they could sell wherever there were people. Are there people in the main streets? Go there with your basket. Are there people watching a show? Go there with your basket. Is there an important speech effecting the security of the village? Be there, and sell fruit.

It was a good strategy really. Though the wicker basket was comparatively small and could seldom fit a lot of large fruit in it. For this reason Eira would only ever bring one pineapple at a time. The best sellers were citrus fruits, which were hard to grow and store pretty much anywhere. She kept her basket almost full of oranges and lemons, with plainer fruits like grapes, apples and pears filling up the rest of the basket. She'd only ever carry one plum. She thought plums were gross.

Eira didn't usually like wearing bright clothing, but the fruit shop demanded you wear a bright uniform so you stood out in a crowd. This meant repeat customers would know where to find you, and not mistake regular people with baskets of fruit for salespeople. If there even were that many people walking around with big baskets of fruit. The uniform consisted of a bright green armless dress that only went as far down as to reach just above the knee, and an apron with apples printed all over it. It also included a ribbon for your hair, but Eira never wore it, and her boss never complained. She did however mind having her legs exposed, and so covered them up in a pair of tights.

It was on this fine day, clad in her fine green uniform, that Eira had chosen to sell her wares in a busy street. This consisted mostly of smiling at strangers, and the occasional sale. However her basket remained ultimately full. She curtsied whenever someone bought from her, as was store policy. However sales were thin, and she began to bite her lip in nervousness as her pay was dependent ultimately on how well she sold things.

Tayoro tugged the fur lining of his vest higher up towards his ear. Despite the spring turn that had come and shed the frost and cold that Kirigakure winters were known for, the damp and moist air still was not entirely pleasant this morning. A smile was plastered on his face and his hair had that disheveled look that told most people he slept somewhere other than his own bed last night. In this particular Yuki's case, it was the library with a pillow of books and a chair as a bed. His constant pursuit of knowledge could have been admired had it not ruined his left arm.

The sling that kept it from wobbling too much was pretty well known in the village. Not many cripples still wore their shinobi headband after all, and even fewer kept their rank in the military. But as far as Tayoro was concerned, he had earned his rank and he would rather die than simple give it away due to the near paralysis in his arm. A grimace replaced his smile as someone in the crowd bumped into his arm, but Tayoro held his tongue rather than curse the idiot who had run into him. Lucky thing to, as the sudden twist of his neck to see who it had been had revealed the man walking by another of the Yuki's clan.

Eira was his cousin on his mother's side and the two knew of each other even though they had not many opportunities to enjoy the company. Her class had graduated after Tayoro's and she had just been released to the field assignments when he was put into the hospital for all of those dreadful surgeries. He had heard through his parents that she had obtained a side job selling fruit. And man was that outfit absolutely godawful. He threw his good hand up in a short wave.

"Hey yo, cousin!"

Eira's helpful smile vanished the moment she heard a familiar voice. Her blush hit her before her head turned. The village was large, but not quite so large so that she could escape the sights and sounds of the people she knew. she turned fairly quickly to face her cousin but her eyes never lifted, instead she looked downward, pouting at being spotted during her work hours. Her outfit suddenly felt uncomfortable on her body. She bit her lip before lifting her eyes up.

Eira gave a slight wave back with her hand that wasn't preoccupied holding fruit, accompanied by a wincing smile, obviously embarrassed at her current appearance. She did not want to be seen today. With a basket full of fruit in one hand, and her pockets empty of any profits. She tried to subdue her blush, though if such a ninja technique existed for such an action Eira did not know it. Her blush persisted, reddening her cheeks.

"I'm working." She bit her lip, obvious more embarrassed at being seen working than being interrupted working.

Her groove now thrown off she could hardly go back to being the chipper fruit salesman she needed to be. The basket weighed on her arm, she moved the handle so it was hanging off her shoulder and under her arm instead. Her gaze trailed up her cousin to the sling his arm was put in. She held her gaze for a second too long before it switched over to his face. Her face softened. Probably out of pity.

"How is it? The arm, and stuff I mean."

"Some days it is sore, some days it is numb. The doctor's say it might never be healed, but I have hope that the surgery they did to save the arm worked and maybe in a year or two I'll be back to active duty. How about you? How have missions in the field treated you?"

The shift in conversation should have been expected. Tayoro was never one to talk about himself and spoke even less about his injury. It was bad enough to be a crippled shinobi without being reminded of it every so often. His eyes dropped to his arm in the sling, shifting slightly as the crowd passed both of the Yuki by. As he shuffled his feet and waited for the girl to respond, he allowed his eyes to rise back up and watch the crowd. After all, a pair of people standing still and distracted with talking to each other would be easy targets for muggers and pick pockets. Luckily it seemed neither had interest in those marked as shinobi of Kirigakure.

"Seems like the whole garrison has been abuzz with your most recent team's works. Yuki has practically become a household name and I hear that the rest of our little family have also seen success. Who knows, in the coming years we might become more well known than those arrogant Uchiha."

He tried to chuckle and break the tension, trying to make her feel at ease and okay with her kin. After all, blood was far thicker than water and she should know that Tayoro, like any other Yuki, would never dare judge her on something she did to earn money beyond what the military paid. The wages for lower ranked shinobi were not that great and being a chuunin barely gave him enough to cover rent and food on a weekly basis.

"I'm sure, if you wanted, I could convince someone in the barracks to give you some real missions and get you some renown so you can be promoted. Get out of this job and whatnot, if you want. It would not be a huge jump in salary but it might be enough Eira."

Her eyes shifted down again as she was asked about missions. Without a full team team her ninja career had been whittled down to one part training and one part errand girl. She hadn't even left the village yet. Her stance became uncomfortable, her body swaying from side to side as if dodging invisible questions. She managed to shrug in response, her field missions were practically non existent, non existent missions didn't exactly put food on the table.

"Mmmm, if you mean cleaning gardens and catching cats, not well. Not enough money."

Her eyes trailed down to her silly dress, not enough money indeed.

"But that's ok! We'll be getting real teams soon I'm sure. "

She didn't believe it, teams usually required jounin, and it hadn't escaped her notice that less and less of the villages jounin were available lately. She wondered how much being a team Sensei paid. Probably not enough for most people compared to A-Rank missions and the like. Young ninja were probably an unwanted hassle for most of the rugged A-Rank who liked to see themselves as feared outside of the village. Bringing a group of children around with you didn't do winders for your reputation.

She felt immediately tense at her cousins suggestion. Yuki, a household name? That didn't bode well. She always thought the best clan was one nobody knew about, so that they could make the best ninjas. A well known ninja was a very poor ninja after all. Her anxiety came more from history than from any degree of opinion however. It made her nervous to think of everyone knowing about her.

"We were... Pretty well known a while back too you know. With all that library work you should remember what happened last time we got really famous." She bit her lip, not wanting to offend.

The last time the Yuki had become a renowned clan was during a war, when they acted as a major military asset for Kirigakure. The resulting fame and fear of the clan had led to a nation wide genocide of the hyouton kekei genkai, and the collapse of whatever organization had been in place prior to the culling. She wondered how the Uchiha had managed to avoid such extinction events, maybe they just held that much power that no-one dare oppose them. Maybe that was it, all the power or none of the power.

Her somber spirit perked up at the chance of better missions though. Was he serious? Her eyes glanced to her cousin's arm, thinking about the risk of field missions. It probably wouldn't be THAT risky, would it? She bit her lip again, but in anticipation this time rather than due to nerves.

"You could really get me better missions?" She gave a moment of pause before tagging on. "One's outside of the village?"