What if the Demolition King of Asakusa was actually a no-name orphan that was adopted into the Shinmon family? How different would the Asakusa arc would be if Hinata and Hikage had an older sister?
The normally boisterous streets of Asakusa were quiet today from the harsh winter snowfall. All the shops that lined the streets were closed, the streets bare except for a young girl with a parasol. Raising the parasol slightly caused the accumulated snow to fall to the ground with a soft crunch. Underneath the parasol was a young girl in her early teens. She had long straight dark purple hair and bangs that framed her soft, pale face. Her bright amber eyes were warm even in this cold. She was wearing a fairly thick violet kimono and red obi with light blue flames decorating the sleeves. Other than her parasol she was carrying a small box wrapped in pink fabric.
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This young girl is Benihime Shinmon, the eldest daughter of the Shinmon family. Their family has taken care of the Asakusa Inari Shrine for generations. And she is on a small errand for her mother.
Walking through the streets, holding the parasol in her right hand, she looks down at the bright wrapped parcel in her left.
"I can't wait to see Oka-san enjoy these! They're her favorite daifuku from Chinatsu-Oba-san!" She said, "Not to mention Oka-san has been having cravings because of the babies." She wondered out loud, looking into the sky watching the snowfall.
While she may be only 11 years old, she's been diligently training her pyrokinetic abilities with her father in his spare time. As he is a busy man taking care of the shrine and helping out as a hikeshi.
She is able to sense the flames of living things around her, her range isn't far, yet, but that will change as she gets older and stronger.
At the edge of her range, she was able to sense a fairly strong soul in the next alleyway down. Hearing rustling coming from that alleyway, Benihime made her way over, her curiosity leading her feet. Her eyes widen seeing a boy a couple of years younger than her eating out of the trash bin.
At the sounds of her feet crunching in the snow, Benihime was able to get a good look of the boy. He was so skinny; his arms and legs like twigs fragile and weak. His face is so pale like the snow that falls on Asakusa. His black hair fell limply onto his sunken cheeks. But his eyes were what drew her attention; they were bright red, with the most unusual pupils. One pupil a circle and the other an X.
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