Jun had no idea how she had gotten stuck in her current predicament. Her best guess was that it had happened at some point during the night. Most likely, she had been put into some form of enchanted sleep to prevent her from waking up while she was dragged a few miles in God only knows what direction. She tried to remember what she had done the day before. Closing her eyes tightly, she did her best to recall what had happened. She had arrived at the edge of a haunted forest, accompanied by her grandmother and sent forth to find her uncle Sero. So far, she hadn't had any luck with that particular mission. Her grandmother had activated some form of portal on Spider Island that brought Jun to some kind of island that her uncle had either prepared or somehow come across. Either way, the place was less than pleasant.

Everything was covered in a layer of mist and fog twice as thick as the one in Kiri. The buildings were in ruins, crumbling and decaying to leave way for nature to retake them. The inhabitants that she had spotted - few and far between - were sickly people, pale and undernourished. Part of Jun doubted that they were people at all. She had heard stories about her uncle Sero modifying creatures - mostly spiders - and giving them a new form. In any case, after traversing through the forest and arriving village, Jun took shelter in one of the better looking houses and decided to call it a night. She would deliver the shield grandmother Gin had given her the day after. She had woken up here in this maze of coffins and without the package she was meant to give Sero. Shit.

The results were all the same, though, regardless of the process. The young Kuroka was buried neck deep in a hole, in the middle of what looked to be a graveyard, or at the very least, a mortuary. It was hard to tell without being able to move her head around and the thick layer of fog only made it worse. Moreover, the large coffins surrounding her blocked the white haired girl off from the rest of the room. What was clear, though, was the fact that she was in the middle of some sort of pentagram, with candles at the end and some tray of slowly burning herbs a few feet away from her. The smell was nauseating.

Every so often, she would hear wailing screams and terrified chatter coming from nearby or farther off. There must have been others that had been taken like she had been. Great. The last thing she needed to do was worry about civilians. She had enough on her plate already. Now if she could locate who was behind this, that would be a fantastic start. Judging by her surroundings alone, this was probably the work of a local cult. Taking into account the kind of place this was - a mirrored version of a ruined Kirigakure - there were bound to be several of them laying about.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" She yelled. Her voice echoed throughout the cave-like room, reverberating through the walls. An eerie silence was left in its place. The pained scream and frightened chatter dissipated for several seconds. A chill ran down Jun's spine as the temperature dropped several degrees. The earth itself seemed to grow cold. A figure emerged from the mist, its outline barely distinguishable. Junichi found that she could see through it. Its robes were translucent, its face mostly covered. Was this some sort of chakra projection or something else?

In its presence, the pentagram began to glow a crimson shade of red. The candles in each corner flickered to life. As each second passed, the circle slowly began to glow brighter. "It has begun. Soon, you will become one of us, child," the creature said. The voice was chilling and eerie. It echoed and sounded like it came from somewhere else entirely. Moreover, its mouth handn't even opened when it spoke. The thing placed a hand gently on her head. Was this supposed to be some sort of paternal gesture? To hell with that. Reflexively, Jun tore her head back as far as she could and bit the ghostly hand with bared teeth. They went completely through the ghost, but somehow left the feeling that she had just bitten a slab of cold iron. Her mouth ached and went ice cold.

"Like fuck I will," she growled anyways. Prideful as she was, she refused to show fear in the face of whatever this thing was. She would get out of this. How? She didn't know yet. She would figure that out one way or another. After all, Jun had never been the kind of person to understand when she was severely outmatched.

First stage of grief: Denial.

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By the looks of it, the cavalry had arrived - two women, maybe a few years older than Jun was. Her head forced still by her current predicament, she was unable to turn around and get a decent look. The first that had come, from what she could see, was an average sized red headed girl that decided it was a good idea to ram a ball of lightning into the back of this... thing's head. The results were even less pleasant than biting into it had been. Dark blots of coagulated blood splattered across the young Kuroka's face and hair. Some of that was probably rotten grey matter. She resisted the urge to gag and fueled by her anger, succeeded. As it turns out, feelings of rage could be quite distracting.

A pair of mismatched eyes - aqua green and crimson red - watched the scene before her. Her teeth gritted. "You could've been more careful with that, you idiot!" She yelled at the woman that had quite possibly just saved her life. The young girl was practically growling. To make matters worse, despite the undead creature being, well, dead, the muted light emanating from the circle kept growing in intensity. Whatever that thing had started, its demise hadn't stopped it. The temperature in the ground kept dropping. If Jun had had any space to move, she was sure that she would have been shivering. At the very least, her teeth were chattering. "G-get me out of this g-goddamn hole!" She cried.

At that point, a second woman came into this part of the room - another girl with fiery red hair, but streaks of teal scattered throughout. By what little she could see, the two knew each other, meaning that they had likely come to this place together. Having a limited vision of them and what was happening, the white haired girl assumed that the two were siblings. Had they been dragged here the same way she had? If that was the case, then why the hell was Jun the one stuck in the hole? Anyone who saw her would be able to tell that she was absolutely seething.

A spider-like thing placed itself between Jun and the two women, hovering over her. The young Kuroka was taken aback by it at first, but the thing wasn't attacking. It was merely standing there, as if waiting to be told what to do or how to react. Jun lifted her head slightly - as far as she could - to examine the creature, only to conclude that it was no creature at all. The makings of it were clearly mechanical - metal joints and twisting gears. This was a puppet.

For a brief moment, memories of Suna came to mind. Most puppet users hailed from the now ruined desert village, after all. They had enjoyed a good deal of renown back there. She remembered her great grandmother's lectures - historical and educational rather than focused on combat instruction. The old woman had really wanted Jun to stay as far away as possible from the life of a shinobi, evidently, to no avail. The Kuroka blood ran strong through the white haired girl's veins, and with it, a desire for combat and violence.


Second stage of grief: Anger.

Jun could feel her body becoming numb. She wasn't entirely sure if it was due to the cold around her or if it was something else. Somewhere along the way, she began to feel as if her energy had been leaking out of her, as if it were being absorbed into the ground itself. That creature couldn't have been telling the truth, right? There was no way that she was becoming one of those things. This had to be some sort of jutsu, some technique that allowed the user to trap their foes and drain them of chakra. It was a pentagram of sorts, meaning that it was most likely a seal. If one of the two women knew fuuinjutsu, maybe they could undo it. Worst case scenario, the seal's continued activity meant that the user had to be somewhere close by. If they were to be defeated, then this whole ludicrous process would stop.

If only she could move, Jun would feel less helpless. She would have done nearly anything right about then to know some sort of Doton technique that freed her from her confines. Why had she forgone learning more than basic ninjutsu? It didn't matter now. Wondering wouldn't help her at all. There was only one thing she could do. She took a deep breath and swallowed her pride. She would deny saying any of these words until the say she died. "H-hey! Could you lovely girls try to break me out of here? I'm really not feeling well, so if I could move around, I could even help you fight," she began. The girl would let the words linger in the air. However, over the sounds of combat, it was likely that the other two weren't able to hear her at all.

"Look, I'll be... nice. I'll behave if you can get me out of here, OK? Does that sound good?" If they kept ignoring her, didn't hear her, or if they simply didn't have a chance to respond, Jun would continue. "Look, my hag of a grandmother gave me a shield I had to give my uncle. Tell you what, if you get me out of here, I can just tell her I lost it, OK? The two of you can split it or something, I don't care. I'm sure it's useful! It was made by one of the legendary Seven Swordsmen of the Mist!" She called. This entire situation was getting out of hand. If Gin ever found out that she was offering up her retirement gift to Sero, well... she really didn't want to think about that. She hated to admit it, but her grandmother could be beyond terrifying and made it clear that she wasn't above holding back against a genin. Jun's mother had regaled her with stories of her early training days and it seemed to match up with accounts of torture camps and child cruelty. Her own training with the woman had yet to reach that level, but the white haired girl was certain - for some odd reason, instinct maybe - that her mother hadn't been exaggerating.

Jun would cross that bridge when she got there, though. For now, all that mattered was surviving whatever the hell this situation could even be called.


Third stage of grief: Bargaining.

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Passive - if not completely outward - aggression was the response she got from one of the two. Which one it was, she wasn't so sure. Her vision was still mostly blocked by the spider contraption meant to protect her. As for the jab about her being in no fighting shape? She heard that. Sure, the sound of fighting might have drowned some of the noise, but Kuroka Junichi had a talent for hearing anything mildly insulting said about her. In her house in Kiri, she often heard her grandmother's complaints about her from several rooms away. Was it useful? Well, only if you considered an instant switch to get her angry as useful. In other words, not very at this stage in her life. "Hey! I heard that you bitch! If me yelling at you keeps you from fighting then you're shit at your job! You hear me? You're shit, you absolute twat!" She yelled back, her previous facade of cooperativeness now gone.

But hey, at least the woman fighting had agreed to have her girlfriend dig her out. That was definitely an improvement. And if they came demanding Sero's new shield afterwards, well... she'd figure a way out of that one. As the other woman approached, the spider deftly leaped onto the roof, clearing out her view of what was going on directly in front of her. Two of the fumbling bodies were on fire. The smell was sickening, to say the least - resembling all kinds of rot and decay. Still, watching the woman fight was a spectacle to behold.

At the order to keep still, Jun cocked an eyebrow and stared at her for a moment. "Look, miss," she began, surprisingly cordial. Under normal cirsumstances, she would have addressed the girl as bitch, but hey, she was giving her a hand. The least she could do was be somewhat polite. The key word there was somewhat. Moreover, she admired the finesse it took to effectively wield a puppet. It involved a lot of dexterity and fine movement. "I couldn't move even if I wanted to. That's the entire issue here. But hey, if I lose an arm, you can just make me one to make up for it," she said. Her thoughts flashed to her grandmother's mechanical arm. It wasn't ideal, but hey, it worked.

All the while, the red light of the pentagram kept shining brighter, as if reaching its apex. At the same time, breathing was becoming harder. "So if you could... hurry it up... that... would be great," she groaned. At this point, she could barely feel the rest of her body. Shit. "When I get out of here, I have to make sure to tell my grandmother she's a fucking bitch and this is all her fault for sending me here," she spat with what little energy she had left. She failed to mention who her grandmother was, or even to mention her own name. It sounded more like she was making a mental note to herself than anything else.


Fourth stage of grief: Depression Back to anger again.

A mere instance before the ritual could be completed, the woman was able to spring Jun free of her confines. She felt a rush of warmth and energy, as if everything that had been depleted from her body had come back in one fell swoop. She felt alive, re-energized and ready to fight, even though she got the feeling that she was outmatched. Still, under the woman's judging eye, she wouldn't falter. She would rather charge in and die than admit that she was too weak to handle it on her own.

"I'm a fucking genin, does she really think I can do much if the two of them are struggling against these things? I'm barely out of the Academy. Shit, I didn't even go to the Academy, I was fucking home schooled by a bunch of psychopaths." Her mind ran a mile a minute trying to devise a way to take care of this last creature and put it down before it had a chance to do the same to her.

Fueled by adrenaline and anger, she acted as quickly as she could. She conjured her chakra and the essence of her very soul to create a solid weapon, seemingly made out of pure energy. She was yet unable to hold its form properly, but it looked vaguely like two wakizashi, one held in each hand. The undead creature didn't recognize her as a threat, but maybe she could use that to her advantage. If it didn't expect her to do damage, she could take it by surprise.

The young Kuroka channeled more chakra through her left blade, embedding a seal onto it that might make this fight at least a little easier. It made no sense to waste additional chakra to bind this creature's soul to hers. After all, it might not even possess one. That, and there was no way to figure out what it's name was in the first place. She would have to skip that step in favor of immediately sealing what abilities she could.

With a loud grunt, she slashed her sword through the air. An array of floating letters left the tip of the blade like a ribbon and wrapped itself around the ghoul, who didn't even bother to dodge. However, realizing that something was now wrong with it, it charged forward, closing the distance between the white haired girl and itself in what was, to her, the blink of an eye. She got ready to parry the incoming blow, keeping what her mother and grandmother had taught her.

Steady your stance. Watch carefully. Anticipate the direction. Meet them there. To the best of her ability, she parried several of the blows, but it was clear that she was on the defensive and barely able to catch up. With every hit she blocked, she had to take a step back to increase the distance between her opponent and herself. At this rate, she would be cornered in no time. She had to do something to distract this thing. Without much time to think, she hit it in the usual weak spot she loved to exploit in men: the crotch. The thing was surprised for a moment, although unable to feel pain the same way as a human. Taking advantage of this, Jun stabbed her two blades in its abdomen. Blood trickled down the blade to her hand, burning it like acid and forcing her to let go of her weapon. She staggered back, knowing immediately that she had lost.

Suddenly, all of her accumulated exhaustion caught up with her. Her vision blurred, her knees weakened. She could barely stand. Before passing out and collapsing, she saw a flash of red hair intercept the creature's sharpened claws and her own body.

Fifth stage of grief: Interrupted. No acceptance achieved.

[Exit]

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