Mission Brief:

As the sun set to creep down from the sky once again, Ryota felt a hunger inside. This pale boy staring out at the world from his bedroom window had a tiredness in his eyes and sore muscles to accompany them, slouched against the open frame to look on to the white stone streets. Heaving a sigh from his breast the assassin-to-be was starving for a more interesting mission. Ok, catching cats had been a challenge and patrolling had cut itself short but life felt dull. Had he really trained so fiercely, day by day to simply end up doing idle grunt work? Admittedly, someone had to do it and it prompted to make the most sense to make the most inexperienced of the shinobi do so. Puffing up one side of his face in contemplative motion his eyes lost focus as the day dream set in and the world turned inwards. Surely he was more experienced by the others even by a thin margin. His kind of history offered a degree of superiority, surely?

Yielding the stored air as a despairing sigh, Ryota buried his face down into his arms, shunning light and sight. Ego. It was a terrible thing, glorifying a past as a trophy even if it was made of his own blood. Trying to counter-balance the faux-prideful notions he argued with himself that even as extreme as his history was, he never got close enough to anyone else in his classes to know anything about them. Pondering it, even their names were vague memories. Perhaps it was wasted time? No, building a life with a new family over friends was never wasted or ill-spent, perhaps it was just more ideal to have managed his free time more wisely. Yes, that suited to sate his ever drifting mind. With a final grunt of displeasure as he pushed himself upright, knees and lower back creaking in resistance prompting a push at his spine, stretching it out with a lean backwards until a click was yielded. Mm, it was about time he embarked on this latest mission, somewhat more interesting in a social way.

Easing on the comfortable fabric and fit of his inherited coat, he plucked the buttons neatly out of their fastened positions on either sleeve to let them flow free and true, flexible against the elements and movements. Rolling his shoulders to ensure a comfrotable fit, he was satisfied. So, it was a traitor-to-be that was his target. Coward! Five years ago his commanders would have sent him to kill such a dissident but even then he still would not dare rob a life without real cause. Showing fear in the face of a cruel world was no crime. Especially considering it was not as if he were fleeing with some crucial shred of intel. Taking the mask from it's stand the lacquered wood was more pleasant to his touch than all the gold in the world, smile wrought from his face. This was a legacy he held in hands, to be glorified and passed on. With a frown, the boy contemplated the paths he may have to take to achieve that glory. Would these fangs of the beast be bathed in blood or the beast retract it's fangs from the corpse and glisten in the shadows of mist? Only time would tell, he supposed as his grip tightened at the wood. Thinking no more of it the intricate deisgn was fastened to his face the sound of birdsong alighted through his ears with leaves in the wind, a sweet serenade recorded in his mind as a precursor to focus, programmed by his handlers.

Departing through the window despite mother's wishes, a background thought noted as ever she would never hear it. As his blank stare set in and the focus of his mind geared up the thud to the paved streets set him internally in motion. All but his target were relevant yet every detai lwas important. An errant blade seeking his soul, a watchful eye seeking to capture a ghost, a shadow of the past seeking to repeat horrors. All were waiting in the night, not to mention evaluation of prospective escape route for both he and the target. The terrain was a book to read and memorise. Walking down the thoroughfare the bright lights and boisterous qualities of the entertainment district presented themselve to him, rocking against his focus as if taunting him, challenging him for baring such serious demeanour in a place meaning to be far from the meanings and manners of the world. Looking this way and that the boy watched for a sign, not a name. A golden koi cloaked in mist marked the most frequent bar of this once productive member of society being his regular watering hole. Supposedly the information his sister had offered defined him as often making quick pace to this establishment before missions, important and stressful events. It was a practical guarantee he could be found here and with any luck, deterred from this path. After some wandering through the encroaching night he discovered by the time this place came into sight - wooden glory that it was, that drunkards practically ignored his existence. It was an astounding combination of his induced inheritence and their inebriated senses. Shrugging, Ryota took the few steps into the polished oaked interior, stools lining a traditional bar styled in carving befitting old sailor's times and scarce table scattered with comfortable chairs. It was scarcely more than half full, yet the crowd was dense enough to conceal a face or three. Nobody spared him even a glance as he shifted away from the door, waiting in shadow. Scanning faces and squinting against dingy light those blue lights in the dark found their mark, a fair haired ninja clad unremarkably with a full set of equipment at his belt and a pint of ale at hand, not to mention a few glasses already empty and sat lined with froth. A heavy drinker of beer, delightful. Spirit or otherwise, neither appelaed. Striding forth, Ryota took no pretenses and clasped the man's shoulder.

"Kiya." Uttered Ryota, devoid of emotion. The drunkard flinched before tensing like a man fearing a blow. "I'm not here to kill you. Simply to talk." Came the honest statement, warmth creeping into his voice. Sitting beside the gentlemen an eye to the bartender warded him away before he could refill the man's fourth glass. Returning a watching gaze to the man he could see that his mask brough him unease, prompting the boy to undo the brass buckle and tuck it away into his cloak. "See?" He said. "Nothing but a boy here." Kiya wasn't that stupid, he probably knew Ryota would store some basic weapons wiht him as all did but he was not about to disarm.

"What can you do, eh?" Inquired the drunk, non-specifically and quite aggressively for a coward. "Excuse me?" Retoted Ryota, leaning an arm on the sticky, brass lined bar. "You're just a child. Why would they send you?" It was a fair question. What took hold in his mind though was how little effect that alcohol had apparently had in the teen's mind though, this man was impressive and then some. Before he could even utter a word the drunk contiues, waving a hand about. "I mean come on. You knew where to find me but you don't even know how many frind could be in here to help me!" The tinge of fear to his voice betrayed him. Still, a cautionary glance about showed nobody elsei n this place was even offering so much as a worried glance or even a second look at these two. It must've been a lot more common than he supposed for folks to come chasing after this guy, especially in his regular bar. Looking back to the man who would be a traitor the genin answred, "Nobody is here to help you but me. I advise you start letting me do my job." The earlier mood was shining through.

Even though his face was still plain enough and his attention turned away to the drink ordered earlier, snatching up the glass and emptying it's content the distraction was just an opportunity for this lowlife wannabe. Cracking his unlit e-cig on the counter a plume of smoke violently thrust outwards from the broken capsule supposedly suspending liquid. Gritting his teeth once more, Ryota noted nobody was bothering to stop this guy judging by an encore of coughs and the slam of a back door being burst open. Hastily fastening his mask, the genin followed this moron through the splintered frame and shattered remains into the dimly lit alleyway, his drunken form sluggishly attempting to run away down the narrow passage. Standing in the doorway, Ryota had a quick solution to this cowards flight.

"Satoha!" Echoed his voice through the night, boucing from stone to stone of the narrow buildings until the disgrace of a ninja turned back, a look of abstract terror in his face as Ryota's ox seal registered in his brain. Strangely, a mirror seemed to have appeared. Mouth agape in confusion and puzzlement the idiot looked on, hazy vision focusing on the glass as rippled flowed in reverse, sinking into the core of the phantom object. Realising an image of himself, the coward barely formed a seal before a plethora of bubbles erupted within, bursting into light and tearing away his vision. As the man screamed out and flailed as he fell to the cobblestone, Ryota sighed. Whistling a tune, he ensured the man could hear his footsteps approaching so as not to give him a heart attack when he finally caught up to him. Of course, being blind in an alleyman with the man responsible lurching towards you is not the most comforting thing even if his choice of music is quite upbeat. "Come on." Ryota added, crouching down next to the man. "Why did you do it?" A few minutes of back and forth whilst the petrified boy freaked out occurred, eventually calming down as his vision came back to see Ryota munching on a burger plucked from somewhere or another during his time in the genjutsu. "Well?" Enquired the assassin turned interrogator. "I-I was afraid!" Called out the apprehended traitor into the night. "Well, yes. I can see that." Came derisory response. "Look, it's this simple. If you run and defect, you'll be hunted down." Noting the look of abstract horror developing, the genin decided a more diplomatic comfort might aid this along. Patting him on the shoulder, Ryota concluded, "Look. I wouldn't want to see anyone die, especially someone who like you with such a wide range of skills. It was all in the breif!" Showing him the piece of paper, the man scanned over it. As he read Ryota finished witha small smile, "So come on. After all. Who would take care of your sister?" Giving a departing pat, the ninja rose to his full height with confidence as this defector's expression changed. Letting him mull for a few moments, the two eventually departed and made their way back to turn in the mission.

[1893 - 600 = 1293]

[Illusory Technique: Sonolumiscent Mirror used, 95/110 chakra remaining.]

[Thread left, Chakra recovered]