Household Chores [D-rank Mission]

Mission Info:

Now see, back in my day, we hired them robo-freaks to come and clean our houses. Strangest things, those. Just woke up one day after sum thousands years a sleepin and decided to become people. Not right I tell ya. The old man said from his easy chair while Indra swept under his kitchen table.
Mhm. The young Shinobi said. He had long since stopped paying attention to the man and had kept his mother's cypher bloodline to himself when the man started raving about Zireh. What was it that made old people so racist?
I remember working with one of those mech heads once, back in my day. This woman, if you could even call her that, looked like a woman sure as all hell...fine woman mhmm. The man drifted off as he was want to do with some frequency, clearly floating through a haze of memories while Indra cleaned the cabinets with a moist cloth. Mhmm anyway, this woman...robot...thing. When she wasn't parading around with those long legs and tight ass, she was a stormin katana. Just poof, transformed right in front of your eyes. Her and her little lover boy, some Ronin or some such, they worked well together but don't matter how cute she made herself look, could never put my dick in something like that, eh boy?

Nope, never, sir. Indra said, sighing as he moved into the dusty den. Thankfully it was the last room in this small, cramped apartment. He had spent all morning listening to this racist tell stories, half of which probably weren't even true.
Mhmm I knew you were a good one, yessir. A human, as you should be and not one of them freaky doo-dad mech heads. Or one of those chakra beast creatures. Calling themselves the Nova, you ever look into that history there? Bloody war that one, they ate humans when they first arrived in our land and don't even get me started on those damn Dobutsu...or fur..fan...faunus, that's what they call themselves now in'it?
I believe so sir.
The man settled into his chair more with a harrumph, Ridiculous, like I said boy, don't even get me started on those.
I won't sir. Indra said, happy to have an escape from going further down this rabbit hole. Of course, the man wasn't looking for that answer, he wanted Indra to poke and prod, but Indra wasn't having any of it. The silence from the other room left Indra with a mental image of the man grumpily mulling over how to bring his racism against the Faunus back up but becoming frustrated.
I mean really, back in my day Shinobi couldn't be bothered to help an old man clean. You had actual things to do, missions to go on, missing-nin to hunt down and kill for the glory of the village. All this hoo ra ra united bullshit with the Republic has made you soft. Indra, having finished dusting most of the den, slammed the duster down on the desk and stalked into the room.
Sir, let me be clear, my half-cypher ass didn't want to be here anymore than you wanted me to be. Also, I checked on your file, you were a desk jockey in your golden days, never went on a mission higher than B-rank and that was just to escort some private files to another village. You were nothing, you are nothing and that's why cleaning your apartment has fallen to a genin looking for something to do just to check off his list. No one wants to help you because you're a crotchety old racist living in memories that you completely made up. If the Republic wasn't paying me for this and I didn't need it to record a mission completion on my record, I would've walked out the second you started your racist bullshit against my people. Your apartment is clean, good day. Indra said, slamming the door behind him and leaving the sad old man to his sad old life, whatever was left of it.

Words: 666/500

Approved