His blade shimmered and shined through the perilous fight,

With the final judgement he would end her might.

The very last thing she would last lay sight was the golden Sasaki’s blinding light.

A second flow of raiton caused the twin blades to ignite,

A single movement of his arms prepared for one final smite.

For the crimes she committed against the land of the knight,

He sentenced her fate.

Eternal night.

From the north, in the midst of his own battle, Takao had dispatched a haul of ten clones. They were not intended to help him in his fight, but were charged with the task of aiding the shinobi of the Leaf. This was not their fight, it was barely even his, but if he needed to hold the weight of it all himself to spare them the hardship, he would do so without a second thought. Their safety was his duty, anything less was a personal failure.

The clone landed like a meteorite falling from the sky, shrouded in flames and crashing with enough force to shatter the earth where his boots made contact. His gaze rested on the prone, unconscious form of Sunadokei, one of the Leaf shinobi that had been forced into his fight, and his eyebrows furrowed. Blood pooled beneath her, she wasn't moving. Maybe she was dead.

If Kyousuke had remained in the area, Takao would stare with cold black eyes that pierced like daggers. Although it was only a clone, the pressure of his chakra seeped into the air, filling it with a deep, oppressive sense of dread. It was a wordless attempt to dissuade him from further action. Takao didn't kill children, if he could help it.

He approached Sunadokei, knelt at her side, and slowly eased her onto her back. The wounds he examined were well beyond any field dressing he could provide, so he lifted his gloved hand to his mouth. The glove itself was removed, tossed aside, and the thumb of his scarred extremity was sliced bloody by his teeth. Hand seals were formed, blood was smeared across his palm, and his hand was slammed into the dirt to the side. A circle of seal formulae stretched outward as he poured chakra inside, calling forth an ancient being from another realm. Clouds of smoke erupted from within, emitting shrill hisses until they cleared a mere moment later.

Standing within the circle was a small creature, less than two feet tall, lurched forward on its hind legs. Part of its body was clad in deep black scales, the rest in bare grey hide with gelatinous-looking portions that light passed through. The reptilian creature had one golden eye, an empty socket with a long, jagged scar through it, a single wing, and jagged teeth protruding from its maw.

"Geni'zo." Takao addressed the small dragon.

"Nnh... What's going o-..." The dragon's light, nasally voice was in stark contrast to Takao's deep timbre, and cut short upon seeing Sunadokei's bloodied form. "Huwoah! Ya'done a number on this one, kid!"

"Not me." Takao said pointedly. "Fix her."

"Ah, right, right, right... Yeesh. Lesse whats we got here..." Geni'zo approached Sunadokei, waddling on his hind legs. Disproportionately long arms clapped as he sat by her head and exhaled a swathe of green flames over his hands. He moved the flames closer to Sunadokei's neck and watched closely as the blood she lost evaporated and the wound slowly closed.

"Quite the bust on 'er, eh? Ent never seen one like it--" A swift, firm slap to the back of Geni'zo's head knocked the crass remark aside. "Yoaw!"

"Shut up! Just get her in condition to be moved and I'll take her back to the village to finish treatment."

"Aright, aright." A moment more of healing, burning away the wound and closing the flesh that had been rent asunder, was all it took to put her in a condition well enough to be endure rapid transit back to the village. "'ere, she's good t'go."

"Thanks." Takao said, sliding his arms under her form and lifting her into his arms with little effort. He stood, smeared the formulae circle with the sole of his boot, and looked back to the small dragon.

"There might be more that need healed, so get ready to be summoned again." He said as jets of flame built at his back, hissing and whirring as they grew more volatile. Faster than one could blink, he was gone, disappearing deep into the wilderness of Land of Frost, his speed mocking the distance that separated the minor country from the Hidden Leaf. His face was twisted into a scowl, angry at himself for not doing this all himself, for getting mere genin involved and injured, but most of all, sparks of rage were growing inside him like a wildfire. These orders came from above, and as angry as he was that he hadn't disobeyed them, there was a greater source.

A shrill voice from behind lit the silence. His head turned and his gaze trailed over his shoulder, furrowed brows eyeing the lightning that shrouded his legs. An idiot kid playing hero, desperately trying to be the valiant knight that slew the evil dragon. If only he knew it was only a clone, he might not have thrown his life away so recklessly. But life was full of tragedy and injustice. This day was nothing more than another example to be forgotten in the war-torn annals of history.

Takao lowered Sunadokei to the ground, carefully set her down, then turned to Kyousuke and began to walk closer. Kyousuke dropped into a stance, crossing his blades and readying himself to attack, but Takao continued to walk unhindered. The lightning crept to the rest of his body and the blades began to shimmer, yet he walked. The genin leaped and struck, swinging both blades for his neck, but fortune would not favour him.

Black chakra crept from his body, seeping out from the pores of his skin and bubbling into the air. It was invisible to the naked eye but one could feel it as if they were looking at a picture. 'Black Origin Threshold' erupted from his core and oppressed the area with a terrible feeling of dread and pressure. Kyousuke would have been subject to its most caustic effects, which threatened to halt all actions immediately and instantly stop people in their tracks. The lightning from the blades tickled the hairs on his neck by the time its effects would have effected him proper.

Takao would lift his right arm and reach for Kyousuke's nearest arm and grip it firmly by the wrist. He would lift him from the ground, slowly, squeezing the joint to force him to drop the sword. The other one didn't matter. If he tried anything, he'd snap that twig too.

"What peace?" His voice escaped as complete monotone, not a shred of cadence or lilt.

"Your last Raikage didn't want peace. Your current Rikage doesn't want peace. Do you expect the world to wait idly by while your conquerors and rats bide for time and power, threaten our peace?" Takao said, wholly unimpressed by the self-righteous boy in front of him. "The previous Hokage was assassinated by a Cloud shinobi. His orders, I wonder, or the order of the current?"

Takao slowly lifted him off the ground by his arm. Black Origin Threshold would keep him frozen there, lest there be tricks up his sleeve, but he doubted that the self-proclaimed genin could muster such a resistance. He unzipped his flak jacket and pulled both its collar and the collar of his undershirt to the side. The branches of a scar crept from his back, over his shoulder, and down onto his chest, accompanied by a deeper scar from which it originated.

"This is from your current Raikage. It was meant for an innocent girl in Inabayama. She was attacked by the terrorist insurgents, and your Raikage decided to help his Raiu bitch attack us. Aimed at an innocent that was trying to flee. If I hadn't stepped in the way, this would've hit her." He'd let his anger get the better of him now. The cool facade he tried to keep up had broken down. The shinobi he brought were just as innocent as the guardsmen that were being slaughtered. If the roles were reversed, they would have acted no different. That was the job of a shinobi. He didn't hate the Cloud, he loved the Leaf, and he would do anything for her. Takao released the collar of his shirt and started to squeeze Kyousuke's arm. It was time to leave him with a message.

"Your peace ended when he attacked her." Takao said through clenched teeth, visage twisted into an irate scowl. He pulled him just a bit closer and his grip tightened. More bones cracked and shattered under the force of his grasp. His digits rolled, twisting and grinding them.

"Now he reaps what he sowed."

Finally, Takao's grip clamped down hard around Kyousuke's forearm and jerked to the side with enough force to snap it proper. He wrapped it slowly so that the upper portion of his forearm would touch his elbow. Hopefully, it was enough to put him out of commission, with luck, and get him out of the fight. He'd be killed otherwise. With his arm broken and mutilated, Takao would throw him hard into the dirt twenty-meters or so away.