*Mature language* Good deed for the day. OPEN.

Hakai was just enjoying his month. Nothing crazy, wild or rambunctious had happened and there was no inclination that anything was going to happen. Just the way Hakai liked it, it was going to be a good month. The easy life was the life for him, no fight no struggles; thus no worries.

He wandered down the streets of his home, the Village Hidden in the Mist. As his long legs lead him forward he found himself in the less than upscale part of town, the slums. These were the areas of the Kirigakure that Mufasa would theoretically warn Simba to never go. That is if this was the Lion King story, but alas it wasn't and Hakai didn't mind the ghetto.

Taking a few turns he found himself standing in front of a large colorful sign, "The Spearmint Rhino." With an awkward smile the tall man strolled forward, pulling for a large stack of single bills wrapped in a rubber-band from his cloak. So his adventure would begin, he would pop the band and the girls would come in droves. With a flock around him the air would fill with with fluttering bills falling to the ground. With a shimmering grin, the Anbu Captain would start to rhythmically speak aloud as various girls danced around and on him.


Bandz a make her dance, bandz a make her dance
All these chicks popping pussies, I’m just popping bandz
Bandz a make her dance, bandz a make her dance
These chicks clappin’, and they ain’t using hands

Short hair, like Nia Long, loose ones, she don’t need a loan
Start twerking when she hear her song, stripper pole her income
We get trippy and then some. So nasty when she rollin’
She put that ass up in my hands, I remote control it (Yeah ho)
She give me dome when the roof gone, at the K.O.D. she leave with me
She got friends, bring three. I got drugs, I got drinks
Bend it over, Juicy J gon' poke it like wet paint
You say no to ratchet pussy, Juicy J can't
Racks everywhere, they showin' racks, I'm throwing racks
In the V.I.P, rubber on I’m stretching that
Rich niggas tippin', broke niggas lookin'
And it ain't a strip club if they ain't showin' pussy


As he finished his jam, he placed his last dollar bill in a unmentionable place. Saying good bye to the dancers who he spent time with on a regular basis, he left. He would stroll eastward out of the slums and towards the shopping district. Walking past various shops he found himself in front of a large flower shop. Walking towards the elder woman who ran the flower shop, Hakai would greet her by name. After a short exchange of words he would hand them a few bills and leave with an armful of sunflowers. Whistling he would skip down the street towards the Kirigakure Hospital. His face surrounded by golden flowers.

OCC: I HATE WHEN I LOSE POSTS AND HAVE TO START OVER.


Hakai would glide into the hospital, using his foot to pull the door open. The tall man’s arms were wrapped tightly around bouquets of golden flowers; he was wearing his standard uniform. As he strolled the large board sword would stay tightly strapped to his broad shoulders.  He would greet the receptionist on the first floor with a smile and a quick comment then make his way to the stairs. Hakai would stroll to the third floor of the hospital. The Demon of the Mist was here to visit patients like he did every so often.

Though unknown to anyone else, the tall man had an ulterior motive. Beginning with the first room he would enter with a smile greeting them kindly. After a few cheerful words he would leave a grouping of beautiful sunflowers and walk out. He would begin the process until he reached the fifth floor of the great hospital. As he handed out the last of the vibrant flowers he would slip away, headed towards a room with a red door.

Upon reaching the door he would glance around to make sure no one was looking. Reading the words in black letters one last time he would grin, “Toxic Waste, Do not Enter.” With that his hand would liquefy under the seam of the door and rise up to unlock it from the inside. With a slight push he would enter the room, the last thing anyone would see was the massive blade Samehada on his back. As he entered the room he would flick the lights on. There were a handful of large metal waste stations each with a different category above them. Twisting his head around he found what he was looking for, “Used Needles.”

Racing to the trash bin he would fling open the lid and dive his hand into the discarded waste. With a whiny face he would recall his hand; he was mortified to find it cover in needles. Letting out a puppy like yelp, he would grab a kunai from his cloak cutting off his forearm with a stroke. The limp would splash into the bucket in an oily explosion. His hand would reform a second later and he would peer down into the trash container. More methodically he would begin pulling out a needles one a time, pulling off just the needle from the syringe he would place it into a burlap sack, throwing the glass syringe into another.'

Continuing the process for the next 40 minutes he would be done. He would have two full sacks in his possession each with at least 150 pieces of waste. As he walked out of the room he would place them under his cloak, strolling to a window he would jump. These were the last ingredients he needed to finish his custom weapons. Just receiving a shipment with the rest of the parts it was time to finish them. So he headed to his home and workshop going back to his hobbies.  

EXIT

WORD COUNT TOTAL: 1000 words even.
Item requirement Achieved.