Mission name: Red Turnt Yellow.
Mission rank: S.
Objective: Locate and Liberate Chūnin Hopeful.
Location: Hi no Kuni Border.
Reward: 2000 Ryo + 5EP
Mission Description: There are a number of entrants missing from their bracket matches, with no discernible pattern in village or other behavior to explain the multiple dropouts. Considering the lack of any correspondence, foul play is suspected.
Mission Details: Cults present in the Land of Fire have taken to indoctrinating the Genin who have traveled to the exams, and are doing so by force. Deep in the wilderness of Hi no Kuni, an S-ranked cult leader in golden robes commands a mixture of A and B-ranked non-ninja worshippers who have forcibly kidnapped entrants. All are equipped with A and S-ranked weapons and the Leader is a Raiu Clan member with all library techniques for his Suiton and Raiton elements, as well as Ninjutsu. This mission can be taken to rescue a PC contestant in the exams as if it were an opposed mission, counting as if both players had completed this mission twice.

WC: 5000
Invited: Daremo, Amaya, Taeru, Tomohiro & Hebiyashi

It was unusual for the mountain hermit to come down the high peaks of Iwagakure's stone giants but with the Chuunin Exams being held a turning point within the mind of the yamabushi would present itself. Months had passed since she had unexpectedly left Kumogakure to find inner peace and enlightenment, meditating on high altitude and looking to balance her purpose in life. While most yamabushi generally maintained such a sober lifestyle for years, the months of solitude had felt like a vacation rather than an exile. A moment of peace, away from shinobi affairs. Away from Hastur's encroaching taint. Little did she know how much deeper still his darkness had seeped within the mountains and thunderous clouds that formed Kumogakure but the visions she had seen repeated within her meditations left little doubt - the day Hastur's black storm would be opposed and driven back by Yang-rich clouds was drawing closer. The battle between a self-proclaimed God having forsaken his Village to twist it into a mockery against that of a Kami seeking to preserve the lands and return it to a place of martial enlightenment. All that remained was discovering the champion that would reach beyond the Heavens to do so.

Wearing a simple grey cotton tunic, likewise pants and holding them together with a crude piece of rope, most of the yamabushi's attire would be hidden by a cloak sporting white, grey and brown hues creating clouds of their own. A modest ensemble for a modest lifestyle. Her shoes, once having been a beautiful pair now dirtied by mud and dirt, were  the only bit of feminine grace that matched the long black hair hidden under the cotton hood of her cloak. By all accounts, the mountain hermit was nothing short of a beggar. Just another face in the swarming crowd that made its way towards Konohagakure to go see the Chuunin Exams.

She had been reluctant to be here at first but previous meetings in Iwagakure had given her the strength to take a new direction. Hope that not everyone had simply surrendered to the dark god's ambitious destruction had rekindled a fire within her spirit that would possibly not have been had she not met the handful of people believing in a better future. To some extend, their words had rang true. To take down Hastur, it took someone to take the first step in that direction. And who better than the one who had taken the first step to make the God's name known would serve as the person to take that same God down?

Keeping to herself, 'Suzume' slowly passed the gates and moved through the streets. To the entire world, a lone yamabushi. In reality, the Herald of Hastur, chaperoned by shadows who's identities remained hidden from sight just as much. During in the Siege of Inabayama these shadows had watched over her like guardian angels of Death, following in her wake where she spread the light of kindness and hope. Never interfering until someone would lay a finger upon her. Today, these very same shadows were not far from her presence again, once more watching over her like guardian angels as she sought to sow the first seeds of Hastur's demise.

From under her hood, blue green eyes would briefly raise up to take in the scenery of Konoha's streets and crowd. A glance to assess the large amount of numbers making their way towards the arenas and taking a quick note of the present shinobi forces believing themselves hidden within shadows and on top of the roofs of Konoha's plentiful houses. it had been a couple of years since she had come here but by the looks of it, Konoha had not changed in the slightest. Warm sun, clear skies, life bloomed lushly in the Lands of Fire. As if the Siege of Inabayama had not ever been able to affect it. Suzume smiled faintly, allowing herself a moment of comfort despite her not as comfortable encounters with its madness-embracing shinobi.

Turning in a shadier street of the Village, she'd move towards a small inn nearby. Its quality was nothing to brag about, the inn in general mostly known by locals but there were people that awaited her arrival. People she had once helped out of the clutches of banditry and into the embrace of shinobi so they could build up a better future. Mad the higher rank shinobi of Konoha may be, their general spirit was one promoting hope and kindness. Pushing open the door, the hermit would step inside and lay eyes upon two people seated at a table - a young girl and her father.

"From where the wind whistles..."
"... spring carries hope to new life."

The young girl, about fourteen years now, rose up from her seat and embraced the hermit.

"It's been a while."
"It has. How are you two doing?"
"Rather well ever since you suggested Konoha to give me a chance."
"It warms my heart to hear that."
"Yes... However, the Chuunin Exams are not going as well. We're running into unusual troubles. Many genin have entered the exams only to disappear without a trace shortly after they arrived and identified themselves."
"We believe foul play but..."

A hint of discomfort and fear briefly glimmered in their eyes.

"The expert approach can only mean shinobi and..."
"You suspect Kumogakure to be involved?"
"... Yes. I don't mean you per se but the Villages have been restless ever since Hastur has risen to power."
"Unfortunately so...", Mizuki's voice lowered to a whisper. "Do not consider me and mine part of his fanatics and ambitions. I'll see if I can investigate what's going. There are a couple of good friends that could help me with that, if they are willing..."

---

982

OOC: Reference about the NPCs: [x]
Daremo, Amaya and/or Taeru, feel free to pick up on the conversation if you're 'hiding in the shadows'.

Seem like just yesterday he had left Konohagakure no Sato, crossing Hi no Kuni’s borders, with his wife and children, and returned home. Time went by too quickly for him as he reconnected with those who he left in Tsuchi no Kuni, allowing them to finally meet his children from his belated wife. A reunion that would have been a joyous one if it wasn’t for what transpired during the first few nights there. Nevertheless, the traffic was made up later on, as everlasting memories were made with those who were important to him, and the incidents which troubled them upon arrival was put to the farthest corner of their minds for the remainder of the stay.

Though he spent a minimal amount of time in the village when word reached his ears about the Chuunin Exams fast approaching, and they were held in Hi no Kuni, he did not think much of it. He was not a fan of the exams for reasons of his own. He was perfectly content in just staying in Tsuchi no Kuni for a bit longer. Yet, the fates would not allow it, friends encouraged him to attend the exams, twins begged him to see their grandparents who they fell in love with, and his wife left him at their mercy. Reluctantly, he gave in to their desires and took off for Hi no Kuni once more.

Yet, before he could leave, wanting to say goodbye to new friends made in Iwa, and to the one who fought alongside during the Siege of Inabayama, information was shared. The yamabushi of Tsuchi no Kuni was leaving the mountains which they dwelled, stepping away from their solitude in heaven, to walk amongst the rest. Friends they were, least, they fought on the battlefield together and protected one another, he understood why there was some reluctance in mingling with shinobi world once more. The world was beginning to shift with the landscape, many having come to know, slowly being breaking.

Dark clouds were forming over the Elemental Nations. The clamoring of restless men, tired of the era of peace, herald the awakening of the slumbering beast which was war. Apart of him just knew what happened in Kaze no Kuni was just a childish skirmish in compared to what was on the horizon. Those who bore witness to what happened in Kaze no Kuni would see that as a peaceful moment in time compared to what the future holds. And, what is disheartening, is the one who is at the center of everything, the one who lit the proverbial fire to the dry kindle was the Raikage Hastur.

The self-proclaimed god amongst men. A transcendent being who reached a godhood. Someone who saw themselves above mankind’s mortality. A figure who believed their cometh was a sign of prosperity for the Elemental Nation, yet, was anything but that. He was just a mere mortal, like the rest of them, that is on an egotistical trip. He believed himself to be untouchable. He was a God, no? There is nothing that could stop him. But, Daremo knew, as history showed us, man can always find a way to take down a God. Hastur will learn this, but, it would be his own and final lesson.

With the kids at their grandparents, Daremo slipped into the shadows, merging with them moments when his friend stepped foot into the village. Because of his children, he and Amaya had arrived early to make sure her parents were okay with watching the kids while they were out on busy. As to what the business was? He had no idea yet. His friend asks him, and Amaya to come, and he could not deny such a request. Like an ever-looming reaper, Daremo followed Suzume, keeping out of sight of the patrols, and only making fleeting presences to let her know that he was still shadowing her.

The situation was almost amusing. With him being one of the three following Suzume, it was almost if she had them picked on purpose. A leader of the nation needed people to have their back, bodyguards who would be there for them when called upon, had Suzume subconsciously thought about this when she asked them? There was no mistaking her power, he had seen it first hand. She was kind, endearing, and heavy-handed only when necessary. Death came quickly for those who crossed her, at least from what he observed. But, there were certain boundaries he assumed she would never cross, and that is where he stepped in. The darkness of humanity was his playground, and he thrives in it. Like a disease, he had no problem in cutting down those who stand in his way, rotting them till nothing remained. That is who he was.

Reptilian eyes peered at the people they passed. The shadier part of the village bringing some familiarity and comfort to him. Seeing things he needed not to, his attention never strayed too far away from keeping an eye on ‘Suzume’, and making sure his wife was still following. Arriving at a small in, he slipped inside of the established, no longer being able to conceive himself in the shadows, and ‘broke’ away from ‘Suzume’, moving towards an empty table, with enough chairs for three people to comfortably sit.

Dressed in a simple light brown kosode with a dark brown slash securing matching hakama, and black Jika-tabi. His silver hair was in a simple low-hanging ponytail with a silver piece keeping it secured. Sitting at a table, being close enough to hear the conversation between Suzume and the older gentlemen and his daughter. At first, there was nothing of interest in their talks, however, that changed when the man mentioned there being trouble at Chuunin exams. Genins, entering the exams, disappeared upon arrival and registration. The disappearance points to an expert doing it, or, in this case, shinobi from Kumo.

The accusation was not surprising, considering who the Raikage is, and what he had been doing to push his own agenda, masquerading it as what the people of Kumo wanted. “Suzume is right, none of us is apart of Hastur’s fanatics and ambitions,” Daremo said in a whispered, having gotten up out of his chair, and moved to stand beside Suzume. At the proposed question, he glanced at Amaya, before looking at Suzume’s friend, “What all do you know?” Though he did not outright said it, the answer to the question should be apparent.

---

1091

In all truthfulness Amaya had never thought about returning to Konohagakure once she had left. She had gained permissions to leave the village, to cut ties in a safe way that would ensure her family left behind suffered no ill will for her departure. Not long after that she had become an official member of Kumogakure: having decided to make the situation permanent due to that being where her husband and the twins lived: her parents having long ago taught her to follow her heart and do what she had thought was right. The decision had been both difficult and easy at the same time: difficult in the fact that she was strongly against many of the Raikage’s point of views, and yet easy because it meant she needn't worry about being able to be around her new family. In the end her decision had been made: Kumogakure it was.

Despite the clean break she had never really thought of returning to Konohagakure: of course she still had family here, her parents and the ‘pack’ that Kenta Inuzuka had created of which she was considered a part of after years of serving as his personal medical when he held the position is Hokage during numerous occasions, but she had thought that if nothing else it would be years before she returned. She had had every intention of moving on to Kumogakure after Iwagakure, settling in nicely, and beginning to build her reputation as a skilled medical nin. It seemed the fates had other ideas though, and she knew better than to fight against them. After the unfortunate situation in Iwagakure, and with the starting of the Chuunin Exams, Amaya had not hesitated in following those she considered friends and allies back to her home village.

Of course, part of the decision that had led to this was quite amusing: the twins had begun begging her to return to Konohagakure so that they could bare witness to the Chuunin Exams, only for Amaya to smile slyly and set them on their father saying that it was up to him if they would return or not. It had been quite amusing to watch the two small child go about begging and pleading their case, their arguments valid and enlightening, speaking well of the intelligence levels of both children, not that she had doubted either. In the end they had won out and plans had been made to travel back. They had arrived early, and it was only the work of a few moments to convince her parents to keep an eye on their grandchildren, something they had not hesitated for a moment about: they loved the twins as much as the twins loved them, and were delighted to dot on them and spoil them while Daremo and her were otherwise occupied.

While most would have once recognized her within Konohagakure she had undergone a lot of changes, including those in her appearance. What was once stark white hair was now wavy and black, pulled into a perfect bun that was secured with two senbon, leaving stormy gray colored hues free from behind hidden behind it. Her attire that once consisted of nothing but black had likewise changed - well somewhat. A black short-sleeved top that went to the end of her rib cage and left her midriff bare to reveal the lean muscle beneath was paired with a pair of baggy black pants, both cotton in material. A long white hooded coat with the Guanyin clan symbol on the back of it, lined with orange and with orange in the interior helped to complete her attire - the jacket a gift from Daremo’s grandmother, and an article of clothing that had quickly become one of her favorites.

Amaya, like her husband, was acting a shadow to Suzume, blending in well with the crowds while being able to keep a watchful eye out. As they hit a shadier part of town she shifted her form upwards, moving across the rooftops, blending well within the shadows despite her semi-bright attire: keeping a watchful eye from above - a more comfortable advantage for the Guanyin. Only when they arrived at their target destination would she move back down to the earth once again. She slipped into the building not through the main entrance but through a side one, stormy-grey eyes moving about the interior as she did what she always did: picking what would be known threats or unknown ones. Shifting herself from the shadows nearby she would listen intently to the conversation that was being held, her passive expression as always upon her face, giving nothing away. It was troubling to hear that Genin who had signed up for the Chuunin Exams were disappearing: but equally troubling was who could possibly be behind it. To say she wasn't surprised was an understatement: it seems exactly like the kind of thing someone claiming to be a God among men would do, though that didn't mean it was any less troublesome. The idea of mere Genin being killed for whatever reason didn't sit right with her: then again she hadn't lost herself in the process of getting where she was. No, behind her passive and emotionless mask she was still very much a creature with feelings. While she had both seen and dealt pain and death in her life she didn't take joy from it: it was a means to an end, a means she used only when necessary.

At her husband's words she would nod her head in agreement, though in her own typical style she would remain quiet: his words were true for both of them after all so there was no need to parrot the same response. Much like her husband she moved closer, interested to hear more about this situation: she was more than willing to help, interest showing in her stormy gray eyes.

---

980

There was slight discomfort he had in his chest as he moved through the village. The discomfort had been building as he roamed throughout the village trying not to draw too much attention. The dark clothed figured known as Tomohiro, had tried to get as much of the scenery in as he could. It was part of the reason he was sent here. He did have to admit that the village was a sight to behold. The thought caused him to gag a bit. Konoha being nice? This was the ancestral home of his clan’s enemies. To ever take a liking to such a place was disgusting and could be considered almost dishonorable. His thoughts would betray him as his body tried rejecting it. Tomohiro did take comfort that this was the first time he had officially been across national lines. The feeling of betrayal began subsiding as he tried to find inner peace.

Tomohiro had sent his cousins out to see other parts of the surrounding village. The information they were report had to be plenty. He wasn’t sure what his clan would do with the information they would report. It wasn’t like he would demand what the information was actually for. Whatever it was, he figured that no outsider would get the information. There were other things that concerned him. He at least knew of one clan elder in the clan that was willing to back Hastur. Though, he knew his brother would keep a close eye on him. It wasn’t surprising at all that his brother would stay behind to keep things together back at home. He knew that his clan wouldn’t put up with any vigilante heroic stuff. Though, it wouldn’t be surprising if the younger clansmen decided acted on their own. No one truly knew of the clan’s potential outside of those who worked exclusively with Nakir members. They had done a good job keeping their secret and staying in their place. It was the edict of seclusion that their ancestors had set up before them. That was how the clan managed to survive.

Tomohiro threw up his hood a block away from the inn he was to enter. He wore a simple dark burgundy monk robes over a black tunic. Under tunic and robes he wore a full black bodysuit that revealed his arms. Over his robes he wore a black sleeveless cloak that draped over his robes naturally. On the back of the cloak, was his clan emblem in a dark shade of crimson. On his sash he had his Kenmei. Tomohiro followed the man and his wife behind “Suzume” to the end. Like his comrades, he tried to stay out of sight and blend into the shadows. He would wait as he carefully observed his surroundings before casually sitting down at a table with his fellow shinobi. The young Nakir dressed for comfort in his own way as he listened to the conversation in the distance.

From a pouch within his robes, he withdrew a book and pretended to read it as a facade. He wasn’t quite surprised that genin were disappearing. With a lot of security trying to maintain peace, something suspicious was bound to happen. Tomohiro wondered why this would happen when all of the major villages gathered together. That was unless there was something bigger going on. Someone or something that didn’t fear being around multiple upper class shinobi. It made him think deeply about their current situation. He hoped that Kumo had no involvement, but with what he was seeing in the village. It was more or less true from his perspective.

As Tomohiro continued to listen, he slightly glanced up as the idea the Kumogakure may have been playing a part in disappearance. He remained calm at the accusation, but he didn’t take it likely. “Suzume” had played it down well. Tomohiro would have been quicker to put his blade to the man’s neck if he had been two years younger. A page turned in his book as he wasn’t sure of what to think. There was definitely something wrong here and he wasn’t sure how this all fit together. He wasn’t sure what to think. This was the first time he was involved in anything this scale.

Tomohiro knew that he would try and and do anything in his power to help where he could. There was no way he was going to sit idle as innocent shinobi were in danger. The married man near him began talking in hushed whispers as Tomohiro remained in his book that he unconsciously started reading. He looked up from his book briefly as he would quickly contemplate what to say not trying to sound dubious. The last thing he wanted to do was sound condescending. He didn’t want to answer right away, but he slowly put down his book before he would answer. That was until he quickly realized that it wasn’t quite a question to be answered with word of mouth, but with swift action. He remained seated as he closed the book and placed it back into his robes. Whatever Suzume decided to do, he would follow right behind.

878

Some time earlier...

The Land of Fire. He never expected to come back here of his own volition. Sure, the alliance between his new home and his old home might have meant that one day he would be assigned here against his will. But as the young man stared out the window of his hotel room, he felt a pang of regret for even agreeing to come back. He hated the Village Hidden in the Leaves because of what they had done to him and his family. But the sun was now rising over the Land of Fire, and Hebiyachi was watching it from the room that he had chosen to be in. He frowned slightly at the sight before turning around and beginning to throw on his clothes. The usual black harem pants accompanied by his grey tank top and wrap sweater were on before too long. He reached up and tied up his hair before looking into he mirror and making sure that everything about his appearance was in order. Ever since he had left home to come to Konohagakure no Sato for the Chunin Exams, he had missed his small art studio. Instead of being able to paint to calm down, he had to be satisfied with using his body as a canvas with which to express himself. It was harder to do while remaining practically dressed, but today he was satisfied that he had done so. After strapping his sword to his waist, Hebiyachi headed out to begin training for the day.

Hebiyachi was not surprised to see the training fields of Konoha were full to the brim with genin. This had been the case even when he was in the academy and he had come here to see what it was like. The place had always been riddled with ninja of all ranks practicing with each other or on their own to hone their craft. But unlike the usual people that spent their days here, these genin were from all over the ninja world. Even as Hebiyachi arrived, he passed right next to two young men from Iwagakure no Sato who seemed to be heading for the hospital. Evidently their training had already gone a little too far and one of them was bleeding from an injury on his chest. As he stepped into the training field proper, the Ouroboros was nearly overwhelmed by the plethora of shinobi and kunoichi practicing for the upcoming exams. The forehead protectors from the Villages Hidden in the Clouds, the Mist, the Leaves, and the Stone were spread as far as he could see in the area around them. Some of the genin were sparring with other from different villages, whereas some were off on their own, trying to keep their techniques a secret from the competition. It was quite a sight to see, and Hebiyachi could not help but smile at the beauty of it all. It would have made an excellent painting. From where he stood, Yachi could also see some of the academy students that he had been in class with when he was part of the Konoha academy. They were genin now as well, but he had no interest in catching up with them. Steering clear of them, Yachi found himself alone in a small space where nobody else was intruding. Nodding to himself, Hebiyachi drew his sword and took his stance that Maigo had showed him during his training leading up to the exams.

Hebiyachi’s practicing went on for some time. When he began practicing, the sun was still climbing in the sky, but as the day went on, the young genin felt the heat begin to beat down on him from above where the sun had reached its zenith. The Ouroboros made a note of the time he had spent training already, but did not stop his training. Around him, Yachi could see some of the other genin wrapping up their training sessions and leaving for the day while others came to start their daily practice. But he paid them no mind as he continued with the stances, movements, and forms that Maigo had taught him to use with the katana. It was a weapon of finesse and dexterity, but strength also played a role in its effectiveness. The young man that this was the weapon he had decided to learn before the exams. He would never stop improving with such a versatile weapon. The training went on for a number of hours with Hebiyachi performing the centering techniques and combinations that the jounin of his village had taught him. He was grateful for the incredible teach he had found in Maigo Mugetsu. Maigo had told him that he would continue to train him in other weapons as well, and so Hebiyachi was almost more anxious to get the exams over with so he could keep learning rather than participating with the single weapon. Eventually, Yachi decided that he had practiced enough for the day, but just as he was leaving, a man wearing a dark cloak and a Konohagakure no Sato headband approached him with a smile. The Ouroboros furrowed his brow and frowned slightly in anticipation.

“Hello young genin of the Mist. I’ve actually been looking for you for some time. I don’t know why I did not look here first.” The man removed his hood and chuckled. He had a strong jaw and short dark hair. His smile was infectious. Immediately, Hebiyachi let his guard down slightly. “My name is Kuno. I’m a special jounin of the Village Hidden in the Leaves and I’m here on behalf of the exam administrators. We are gathering the Kiri ninja together and putting them through a mandatory orientation. You’re suppose dot come with me.” Hebiyachi raised an eyebrow for a moment. He certainly had no need for an orientation of the village, but perhaps it was more of an orientation about how the exams would work. The man seemed legitimate enough and so with a shrug, Hebiyachi sheathed his sword and grabbed his sweater off of the nearby tree branch that it was hanging on before following the man out of the training grounds. As he followed the man, the young genin took in the sights of his old home town. Not much had changed. He could still see all of the important landmarks around the village and much to his surprise, they seemed o be moving away from them. Then again, he had no way to know exactly where hey were going, so he did not say anything.

After walking for some time, Hebiyachi and the Leaf ninja came to a small building. It was unmarked and two stories tall, but it seemed clean and official enough to be a real gathering place. The man held the door open for Yachi as he stepped inside. The interior was well lit, but the room was barren. All that was present in the room was a single table, a few chairs, and a door leading to another room. “Take a seat,” the special jounin offered. “I have to go get some paperwork for you to sign and since it looks like we’re the first ones back, we might be waiting for a while.” Hebiyachi shrugged one again and stepped over to the closest chair. “Sounds good,” he said quietly as the man stepped through the other door and walked into another room. The genin sat and waited for some time before he started to grow uncomfortable. He had not heard anything in almost twenty minutes, and he was beginning to remember something that he had heard in passing. Apparently, some of the participants of the Exams had been going missing and nobody could locate them. Hebiyachi’s eyes went wide as he realized what could be going on. “Hey,” he called out to the door at the back of the room as he stood up. “Hey man, where did you go?” Yachi placed his hand on the hilt of his sword as he moved toward the back door. “Listen, you better explain what’s going on or I’m, going to—.” The pain in the back of Yachi’s was intense for the moment before everything faded to black.

WC:1382

Her heterochromia orbs, though guarded in part, would sweep over the area, the crowds, her people and the shadows. And it was from the shadows that she would continue onwards, herself silent to the world as she listened closely to the chatter about her person, she had made sure to collect and remember the scents of those she protected now, having been placed as a part of the squads of whom had been given the mission to escort the genin of Iwagakure no Sato, to watch over and protect them at all costs, for, without doubt, they were the next generation. For that, they were most precious.  

Merging well with not only the crowd when needed but also with the shadows as they passed into the village, clad in a body suit made, tight and to cover her left side up to her throat completely whereas the right side showed visible flesh of her chest and arm, a pitch black in colour. Yet draped about her form, giving some form of cover to her chest and the area from her waist down to her thighs in a diagonal slant, was a lightweight material, its colour that of deep clotted blood, her gloves the same in colour and material. Her right glove just reaching past the bone in her wrist whilst her let hand been specially designs to fit snuggly to the deformation of her hand, missing the space for her missing pinky digit all together, instead made as a perfect fit as though a pinky finger had never had a place within a pair of gloves, a subtle padding within whilst reaching up to her elbow, ensuring the flesh would be covered. Yet wrapped around her right upper arm, a black armband, the only thing about her that may very well give anything away. At each thigh a specially designed pouch would sit snugly, in the right-hand side, Tatsu would sit and the left-hand side Amai. Beneath the folds of the draped material just above her rump would sit the sheath and blade Ripa tsume whilst just below her bust, still covered by the drape of material, would be her kuni strapped into place. Three of her senbon would be nestled into the folds of her drapes, resting against her right shoulder. The other three settled within the high bun of her snow-white hair, the section of hair that would usually be classed as the ‘undercut’ however was left to hang loosely, trailing right the way down her back to brush her rump. The left side of her hair, including the left side of her fringe, would be tightly braided with dull loops entrained, attached to said loops a thin veil that would, in turn, be attached to the high collar of her bodysuit, completely covering the left side of her face from view, whilst the right side remained exposed, her cheekbones high enough that she could be considered a regal beauty with the addition of her pointed features and pale flesh, if it was not for the traces of malnutrition set deeply within her accenting the deep scar that set in a line along her upper and lower lip  the material black to match the body suit. Whilst it covered the left side of her face it would also encroach back over the side of her head to also cover her ear and though insipid for an onlooker, with the material so close to her she would see through and hear through with very little discomfort now. Standard issue army boots had their place upon her feet whilst a morbid half decayed corpse-like mask hung at her belt line.  

Amongst the crowd passing into Konohagakure no Sato, a familiar Yamabunshi would be spotted, a subtle smile would quirk at the right, exposed corner of her lips upwards, though once the Yamabunshi trailed off she too would change course, dropping back only for another to step up, taking her place to guard Iwagakures genin. She would softly brush past the guard taking her place, an unspoken word shared between the two in the process yet the one taking her place mingled into the group, easily disguised as one of the genin himself. Carefully she would follow the Yamabunshi making sure to keep her distance before knuckling down to conceal her true identity as she waiting, noting down where the female headed. Giving time before continuing to follow now basing off of scent as she continued onwards. Though the female's scent lead to a pub like building she wouldn't enter via the front door she would simply pass by before stepping off down an ally-way. Upon the first chance, she would double back before scaling the side of the pub, careful the entire time not to activate her chakra as she pressed herself to repress it along with any signs of her coming, save for her scent. She would scale up the side of the building, just out of view of the main street before slipping in through an open upstairs window. Passing through what, for all purposes sake, a bedroom, she would head to the stairs, carefully. Listening out she would make sure the level was empty before slipping a serving jacket on and an apron before descending the stairs. Yet ahead of her, her scent would slowly begin to enter the room below.  

As she entered the main room she would pass judgment upon the occupants, her usual strong presence would reduce to what would be expected of a mousy individual as she collected the cup and wiped down the tables, picking up her facade as she picked up the last chunk of the current conversation. Her scent thin at first, however slowly growing thicker yet remaining just a subtle scent, sweet, almost sickeningly so, like lilly flowers left in an overly heated room where the resin of a cypress tree smoldered, the scent of long-awaited death of which she held no power of yet the scent itself, whilst it could un-nerve people it could also comfort, at times. Her gaze flickering about as would be expected to find the empty glasses would, in fact, take in the vision of the occupants within, seeing the Yamabunshi in what the Yamabunhi must have decided to be good company her attention would shift to a young male somewhat out of place. Making her way over she would pass by him to ‘clean the table behind him, simply seeming to go about her business. She would, however, reach behind her to slip Ripa tsume out from the folds of material, making sure to clank glasses before shifting the cloth along the table, masking any sounds of her true intent before turning and stepping up behind the male as he looked up from his book. If she wasn’t stopped at any point her hand would snake into position to rest the curve of Ripa tsume at the males throat as her left hand pressed to the back of his neck, her fingers resting into his hair  to steady him in place, quite firmly, as her form lent close, leaning down to his left side close enough that her lips almost brushed him as she whispered in his ear, he heavy accent detectable even then, “Didn't your guardians ever tell you it was bad manners to eves-drop?” her piercing yellow gaze would, however, rest upon the Yamabunshi.  

---

Word count: 1245.

“What all do you know?”, said Daremo as he stood up to stand next to Suzume, followed in quietude by Amaya. The genin and the elder would look at each other in surprise before a smile unfolded, a nod of satisfaction confirming the cooperation. The girl took out a somewhat crumpled piece of paper and placed on the table, turning it so the names would be readable for the three of them.

"These are a couple of the names I caught. Genin who signed up, then missing. I believe there are more but it's hard prying information from superiors without getting caught. With the exception of this one name, Hebiyashi, I found no traces at all.", she explained, tapping her nose. "I guess it helps to keep a couple of underground contacts but... shh. Don't tell anyone, please."

The conversation would be interrupted as a stranger slipped in to eavesdrop behind them, casually picking up a book to hide his intent before a familiar voice intervened. The distance, though far enough for a shinobi to remain mostly inconspicuous would not be sufficiently far for the trained ears of higher ranked shinobi. Taeru's words, though faintly, would be caught and attract the attention of the mountain hermit as a piercing gaze rested on her. She'd raise her hand to halt the girl in her speech and turn around, seeing a familiar face handling a young man. Her blue-green eyes would rest upon Tomohiro for a moment, her mind digging into her memories as she was fairly certain she was supposed to know him from somewhere. An older time, well before dark tides arrived. However, the months of travelling as a diplomat, the intense period of grief and the following invasion upon the ruins of Sunagakure invoked too many faces and names to pluck out the one that belonged to this young man.

"Please continue your story as I greet another friend of mine.", Suzume asked the genin of Konoha before she rose to her feet to meet the duo at the other table. As she left for a brief moment, what little information the girl had would be shared with Daremo and Amaya. Hoping they could do more with it than a genin such as herself.

"Uhm, so... There is this guy from the slums I know, a good friend of mine. Well, he spotted some odd activity in an abandoned house recently. He couldn't sneak in to check but he knows there's quite a large cellar under the house which is rumoured to hold a hidden underground tunnel. Anyway... He said he saw a shady figure slip in there with a young boy last time, bearing some odd symbol, don't know what. The guy was wearing simple robes, looked a bit like a priest of sorts. Really weird. While the description of the boy that was with him looks a bit like Hibeyashi. I can't say if it really is him, of course, but it's the only lead I have.", the genin said, slumping her shoulder a little as she realised it was not quite a lot to go by. A lot of second hand information with vague descriptions which was procured from an equally shady person. Though a friend to herself, she was aware it didn't sound as trust-worthy in the ears of others. "I know it's not a lot but... Do you think you could take a look? It's better than nothing, right?"

In meanwhile, Suzume would take position next to Taeru, adding a body screen so the little game between Tomohiro and Taeru would not raise suspicion. The last the mountain hermit wanted was the innkeeper suddenly walking over to ask them questions about the sort of business they were conducting. Suzume wanted to keep things discrete, leaving nothing to chance despite the maiko's affinity for subtlety and discretion.

"What a pleasure to see you here. Is this the partner you spoke about so much?", she asked Taeru casually as if the two young women had been clucking about love interests in a previous life or another. While she had no doubt that the girl would understand the reason why the hermit slipped into a casual, coded conversation as this it was to be seen if the boy would catch on just as quick. The last thing she wanted was to make a scene when there were already potentially lives at stake.

---

750
Total: 1732

Amaya remaining quiet was enough for him to understand her stance on the matter, she would follow him in helping with this investigation. If there was anything wrong with the situation, or if she had any reason in not wanting to help, Daremo knew that Amaya would have spoken up. She was not the type of woman to blindly follow the orders of other, even if she was closed to them. Had she been against helping the people before them, he would have perfectly understood, and not coerce her into helping. She was her own woman, and Daremo respected her decisions as a male should.

Outwardly not showing it, he was glad Amaya decided to stick around, and help. And, while he did not fully know the strength of the others converging into the small inn, he knew Amaya’s and understood the value she brought to the table not only as a powerful shinobi but an experience one as well. Citrine eyes softly roaring with warmth and comfort, stared at the older gentlemen and is, presumably, his daughter. Thoughts drifted back to the earlier moments of the conversation of genins disappearing shortly after arrival and registration.  The specific means of when they suddenly disappear was of interest for Daremo.

The Chuunin Exams, or any large gathering of people coming in and out of the village, was a perfect opportunity for those in the criminal underworld to go hunting.  Such events are never kept under wraps, being promoted throughout the villages and talked about merchants or others who caught wind of it. So, anyone could come to find out about the events, and use it to their advantage. If someone wanted to commit an atrocity act, the frequently traveled roads would be perfect to ambush the unsuspected attending the event. The roads surely being busy with a large number of people traversing them, thus, one just had to choose the opportune time to strike. Time was on the side of those who hunt on the popular roads.

But, from what was said prior, these disappearances happened after the contestants arrived, and had identified themselves as contestants. The perpetrators waited until their targets had signed up for the exams before, presumably, kidnapping them. The thought had Daremo wanting to question a few things, but, first, he needed to see what Suzume’s ‘friends’ knew. Maybe his questions would be unknowingly answered?  While he would seek to get answers from the two, he would look for inconsistencies and anything that might connect them to the disappearances. Does he believe they had a part in it? No, but, he would be foolish to omit them as a suspect.

Looking at the crumpled piece of paper, none of the names written on it meant anything to him. They were just strangers who were not connected to him in any facet. They were the identifies of faceless individuals amongst many others.  Yet, as the girl spoke, the names written were only a few of the genins who signed up and went missing shortly afterward without a trace, except for one. Hebiyashi, the name being in the middle of the list, apparently was the only one who was not easily taken, there being evidence of some kind left behind. He waited for her to expand on the particular piece of information, but, instead of doing so, she did not.

“Do not worry. Your information is safe with us.” Daremo spoke, with any more he was going to say being interrupted by a stranger eavesdropping on the conversation. Trained ears picked up the voice of another as his gaze fell on the woman who had a knife at the eavesdropper’s throat. Citrine eyes glanced at the male who had a knife to his throat, before shifting to Suzume, watching as the woman rose from her chair and moved towards the other woman. Noting a heavy lily-scent in the air, Daremo glanced back at the knife holding woman before turning his attention to the Suzume’s ‘friends’.

Listening to the girl talk. Daremo found much of her evidence to be less than concrete. A friend from the slums having spotted odd activity in an abandoned house. For whatever reason, this person could not check the house though, according to rumor, there is a hidden underground tunnel. Apparently, her friend had seen a shady figure slipping into the house with a young boy the last time, the boy bearing an unspecified symbol and looking like Hibeyashi, and the guy wearing priest-like robes. Thinking on the information, Daremo spoke, “This friend of yours. How trustworthy are they?”.

“Extremely so. He was once a genin, like me, but, retired after some unfortunate events happened.” Daremo noting the hint of sadness in her voice. Eyes glanced over to the older gentlemen, “I know the boy personally. I was close to his parents, and I know the boy would not lie about something like this.” Daremo did not detect any lies from the male. “Assuming he knows what the norm is around there? And a majority of the people who frequent the place?”, Daremo needed to figure out if what was witness wasn’t just an older gentleman getting his taste of flesh or something more. “This was out of the norm. Though they attempt to blend in, they stuck out somewhat with their priest-like robes, not to say those types don’t visit, but still, he said something just felt off.”

Glancing at the crumpled piece of paper, Daremo spoke once more, “Have you heard anything about what village those who disappear came from? Knowing if there is a higher number of disappearance from a certain village could help us with determining something about the perpetrators who did this.”The older gentlemen looked at Daremo with an raised eyebrow, but, it was not him who spoke, but the girl, “To answer your question. No, those who have been taken came from all of the villages. There is not a big enough discrepancy to say a certain village is being targeted.” Daremo frowned at this. He had hoped the ones responsible would at least slip-up. “Why do you think more than one individual is involved?”


“Just a speculation really. The individual(s) who did this had to be someone who worked with the registering of the genins, or stalks the area constantly enough to see when a genin is registered. The reason I said two is because, one individual could be the one identifying the targets while another make a move on them, of course, I could be wrong. But, really, it would be easier for a single individual to snatch a genin in passing then it is to wait for them to register. Furthermore, whoever these individuals are, they wanted this information to be found. Because, you gotta ask yourself, why chuunin hopefuls? Why not the other genins, or maybe the academy students? Why target the one who is participating in the exams?”, He asked, allowing his words to sink in, and letting others get into the conversation if they desire.

---

1184[2275]

There was something to be said about the senses of a shinobi. Even without having to actually hear or see a person there came a sense of presence, a feeling of being watched, as if there was someone else in the room. So even though her focus remained on the individuals speaking there came a slight rise on the hairs of the back of her neck and she found her stormy grey gaze shifting sideways to the individual with a book that hadn’t been there when they arrived. They would not be the only one however to appear, a sweet scent reaching her nose and causing her gaze to shift to the nearby stairs, watching as a female descended them, dressed in a way that spoke of working here. Her staring wouldn’t last longer than a second before she would shift her attention back to those offering up important information, listening intently.

What was going on was certainly troubling though Amaya kept her facial features as impassive as ever. Shifting her weight so that she was leaning more on her left leg than her right she would fold her arms across her chest: standing in such a way that this could have been a conversation about the weather, or simple a chat with friends, instead of something much more important than that. It was then that soft words reached her, and it was revealed that the woman with the sweet scent who had slipped among them so easily was not in fact what she appeared at first to be. A glance towards the boy with the book revealed that the woman had come up behind him and had him in quite a perilous situation, but even still her features remained passive - at least until Suzume spoke about greeting another friend of hers, causing Amaya to raise a single slender dark eyebrow in curiosity as she watched the woman move over to the table with the other two.

Shifting her focus back onto the task at hand she returned to listening intently to the information being offered up. Odd activity was not quite uncommon around Konoha - Amaya herself knew that first hand from several raids she had performed on various buildings in the past whose occupants were up to no good - but what she was hearing didn’t seem to bode well for the young boy seen with a shady looking individual. Any manner of torture or darkness could go down in one of those cellars, especially the more insulated ones, and no one would be any wiser to it. The fact that the older of the two had been dressed like a priest of sorts caused Amaya’s mind to flash back to dark and evil rituals performed on unsuspecting individuals, but she pushed it quickly from her mind in favor of keeping her focus: absorbing the intel like a sponge. As the young woman finished speaking her gaze would shift to Daremo, who began to ask questions she herself had, including the validity of the witness - someone the girl trusted quite a lot, mentioning that he had been a Genin like herself before something had occurred to force his retirement.

It seemed that once again her husband and herself were on the same page when it came to the questions they wanted answered, and Amaya gave her focus to the girl with the information and answers while keeping subtle tabs on what was going on dealing with the boy with the book. As the girl continued on it became apparent that it wasn’t one village or another being targeted, but rather all of them with no sort of discernable reason behind it. Like her husband she had a feeling that whoever was behind this was part of the whole exam process: they would have the kind of information needed beforehand to decipher who was actually participating in the event and who had come to simple spectate, and she likewise felt it could be more than one person behind all of this as it simply made more sense to her for it to work that way - a single person both identifying and abducting Genin seemed like a lot of work and while a lack of bodies showing up didn’t exactly mean they weren’t dead Amaya had a gut feeling there was more than just the murder of the strong going on.

”That’s a good point. These aren’t random Genin at varying stages of growth being abducted, but rather those who deem themselves, or are deemed by their villages, to be strong enough for the exams. While a lack of bodies doesn’t necessarily mean they’re not being killed, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more going on than just that. Having been a sensei for years I know that Genin are always the easiest lot to mold and shape. They are strong, but can still be swayed. There is a great deal of potential to still be brought to the surface. It was mentioned that the man last seen with Hebiyachi was wearing priest robes: it could be a means to hide who he really is, or we could possibly be dealing with some kind of cult or fanatic religious group and I can think of two reasons to kidnap those who could be deemed the potential strongest Genin: either ritualistic sacrifice, or indoctrination to the cult.” Her words were softly spoken but serious: this wasn’t the insane babbling of some conspiracy theorist but rather the words of a seasoned shinobi who had both seen and heard stories of the nasty workings of mankind. While having never dealt with a cult first hand she knew that they did exist, and had seen the aftermath as a medical nin: both dealing with forms of Stockholm Syndrome as well as the aftermath of brainwashing, and neither was pretty.

---

980 | 1,960

Tomohiro listened to the conversation that went on as he became distracted. There was an abrupt noise behind him. It wasn’t before a long that a blade was placed to his throat. The voice of the woman was slightly eerie. He wasn’t sure what to do. Tomohiro’s first reaction would be to reach for his blade, but that would have been unwise. There wasn’t much that he could without it seeming that was trying to escape or fight back. He took a deep breath and tried to act normal. Tomohiro wasn’t the type to beg for his life. If he wanted to die, he wished to die on a battlefield or protecting his village from harm. Getting bled out in a village that his ancestors hated would be a total disgrace to. He closed the book and set it down on the table. He took a second deep breath as he edged himself closer to the blade. The scent around him was sweet and familiar. It almost triggered his bloodlust, but he found some comfort in it. It was a smell that he learned to appreciate itself. The smell of fading life. Death came for them all. It was only the time that he couldn’t admire. If death took him, it would be an end to a very short and sad life.

“Do what you want with me. I’m just interested in helping the missing genin. Though I’m of Kumogakure, I have no reason to support Hastur. If you want me dead, then fine. I always thought I would go out like a warrior. Just make sure that my body makes it back to Kumogakure in one piece.”

He hated that he found himself like this. He truly only wanted to help. If there was any way that he could change peoples’ mind about Kumo he would. There wasn’t much he could do than try and help in any way that he could. This was the last thing that he expected. He wondered who were these people. Was the conversation so important that he could lose his life over. Many factors mulled through his mind as he tried to figure out what he was going to do to get him out of this. There were no techniques that he actively trained that could have prevented him from getting out of this situation.

It wasn’t too much longer that fear began to settle in. Though, he wasn’t scared of fighting, there was something small and miniscule about dying to him. It came in the form of anxiety. Tomohiro’s finger started twitching as it started tapping lightly on the table that was before him. The irony in his clan sending him here to end up dying in a place they supposedly hated. This would definitely solidify their hate if he didn’t return to report his findings on the village. Sending a carrier bird with what he found would be too risky. With ANBU having watched his tracks sense he arrived here, he wondered why they didn’t do anything about rescuing the genin themselves. Unless the ANBU weren’t quite sure of what was going on themselves. It could have been that they were testing to see what would happen. This whole thing was confusing. Genin just seeming to casually disappear at first glance in your village was just generally not a good thing for village relations. No matter if it was your village’s fault or not just gave your village a bad reputation. He wondered if ANBU were so keen and worried about the Kumo shinobi that they would let all of the village’s genin disappear. It was a maddening thought. No one deserved to get kidnapped. Tomohiro just wanted more information. There wasn’t much that he could do without becoming more informed about what the group before him had been discussing. The last thing he figured was the a blade would tarry from his soft exposed neck.

Tomohiro tried to focused on the woman behind him. It was probably better for him to start pleading for his life than sit there looking like he was lost in the wind. Acting bold was not the best response in this situation. His previous words were an attempt to to call a bluff. Tomohiro knew better than to act so rash. This would not benefit him at all. His pride wouldn’t let him beg. The fear that could be shown on his face wouldn’t be hindered by the pride in his heart. Begging was something that the weak did. In begging, he would consider himself weak. Tomohiro began to take slow breaths of air. This was the least he could do to calm himself down. It would work slightly, but it didn’t change his predicament.

“Ma’am would you please so kindly remove the blade from my neck. I’m pretty sure, that the owners of this fine establishment don’t want me bleeding all over the place. Plus, I have to much ahead of me to die,” he stated in a monotone, but sort of shaky voice.

In his heart, he hoped that it would work. If he did die, he would only have himself to blame. Tomohiro had never yearned for anyone else to help him. It made him wish that his older brother would come and rescue him. Though, he had no family to protect him. The feeling of being hopeless was not one he liked. It had been a long time since he felt this way. Years had passed since he ended up in a situation like this. It kind made him wish that he didn’t leave Assam at his temporary living space. Thinking of his pet tiger gave him some comfort. If he did anything else before he died, he wanted to pet his tiger one last time. Outside of his future, his tiger and his younger siblings seemed to be the only thing that made him seem happy. He start to have positive thoughts. There was no guarantee he was going to come out of this unscathed. Tomohiro just hoped for the best that he wouldn’t just be left for dead. Maybe his savior was out there...somewhere.

1052/1930

Meanwhile…

Hebiyachi’s head felt like it was going to explode. He had not felt the pain at first, mostly because he had been unconscious for an unknown amount of time. But now that he was slowly returning to the land of the waking, he could feel a pulsing pain shoot though his head and then down through the rest of his body with each beat of his heart. It was excruciating. The young Ouroboros was no stranger to taking a beating; ever since his days in the Academy of Konoha the other children had beaten on his regularly because of his family’s heritage. The serpent-like boy had been an easy target and thus had ended up with bruises, cuts, and even a broken arm one because of the bullying that he had experienced. But he had been able to walk away from every one of those fights. This one, he was a little less sure of. His eyes were trying to open, but they would not focus on anything in the room that the genin found himself in. Between the darkness and the splitting headache as well as the sticky feeling of blood on the side of his face, Hebiyachi knew that if he tried to force himself into a better state, he would probably just end up in more pain.

Yachi closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, calming his nerves and allowing him to gather his thoughts in his pain-addled mind. Finally, the young man slowly opened his eyes again to see what he could see. Once again, his sight was assailed with the darkness of an out of focus room. The boy blinked a few more times, eventually getting his eyes to focus on what was around him. Most of the space was dark; what little light that could be found in the room was coming form a single candle that was burning slowly on a table top. There were some other objects on the table too, but Yachi could not make out what they were. There was no outline of a door in sight, so he assumed it was either dark beyond the door, or the door was sealed very tightly. The latter concerned him a little but more because it meant that even if he could start moving, he might not be able to escape. That thought brought Hebiyachi’s attention to the shackles that were chained around his wrists and attached to the wall, forcing his arms above his head. His waist was also pinned to the wall to prevent any maneuvering at the price of his shoulders. For the moment, the pain was the primary reason eh was not trying anything, though the secure situation was a close second. This place had been well thought out, and Hebiyachi could glean little else thanks to the darkness that surrounded him.

Because he could not see anything, Hebiyachi decided to rely on his other senses. All he could feel was pain, so that was out of the question. The primary taste that the genin could identify was the iron taste of blood; his own blood; in his mouth. It was most likely a result of the head injury tat he had clearly sustained when he had been knocked out earlier. Either blood had run into his mouth or he had bitten his tongue or something when it happened. He listened as well, trying to discern if anyone was moving outside of the rooms or whether or not the room had a proper door. But as he hung there for what felt like hours, his mind began to wander. He thought of how his name had been written down when he signed in for the exams. The woman had written Hebiyashi instead of Hebiyachi, and everything official for the exams would be written that way. At the time it had not bothered him, but now for some reason it seemed very important. He made a mental note to get it corrected when he returned to the village. But that thought led to another; would be return to the village Hidden in the Leaves? How was he going to get out of his manacles, let alone the room? Did anyone even know he was missing? It was a depressing train of through, but as he hung alone in the darkness, it was all that filled his mind.

Hebiyachi had no way of knowing how long he had been handing in the darkness when suddenly his vision was assailed with light. He flinched back in pain and squinted a shis eyes struggled to adjust. A door of some kind had been opened, and a silhouette was walking into he room holding a torch. Soon the harsh light of the outside of the room was shut out once again, and Hebyachi was back in the dimly lit room; though he was no longer alone. The figure seemed to place the torce in a holder of some kind on the wall before walking closer to the genin. Yachi looke dup at him and tried to take in his features. The man was middle aged, his hair was dark but greying and he had a small goatee. The black cloak that he wore was ominous to say the least, and when he spoke, his voice was like a harsh whisper. “What you feel is not a curse..but a blessing. Know that; young one.” Yachi had no idea how to respond, and so he simply stayed quiet as the man stepped over to the table with the candle, blocking it from Yachi’s view. “Tell me, boy,” the man continued. “Do you know of our Lord Jashin? He demands the pain you feel as honor and sacrifice for the gifts he grants us…” His voice trailed off, but his words left nothing but anger in Hebiyachi’s chest. He was not going to let this man tell him what to do any longer. The genin planted his feet and tired pulled against he chains, grunting as he did so. “I don’t know him, and I don’t want to. But you? I’ll show you pain if you just get me out of these chains!”

The shouts were cut short as the man spun around to face Yachi again, but this time with a kunai in his right hand. “No boy,” the man said coldly. “It is I who will be giving you his gift today…”

WC:1084+1382=2466

As the male pressed closer to her blade her brow would arch and for such action she would tilt the blade slightly by no more than a centimeter before stroking the blade along his flesh, the blade sharp enough in not only it sound but sharp enough to shave hair, though the sound of it against flesh was fulfilling enough. The three fingers and thumb of her left hand would curl slightly into the males hair in the process, a simple warning in her actions. Remaining close she would listen closely to his voice tilting her head slightly away from his face, the cold almost corpse-like brush of her cheek brushing his in the process, for only a moment her gaze would flicker to him, though the bold edge to his words in such a predicament could be something classed as both brave and foolish, she would for the time being simply assume that he wished not to seem weak, but the information he provided was what she sort from him, but was their truth to his words? A softly whispered reply would slip past her lips, softer still than previously, yet her heavy accent would still remain, “Do what I want with you?” a toned purr would roll within her throat into her words as she continued, “Well, well isn’t that an invitation...” She would shift her position ever so slightly, keeping her hands positioned securely in place, her head would tilt closer once again, drawing her lips and nose close to the flesh of his neck just below his jawline before inhaling deeply, filling her lung to their capacity with his scent. For what she could not glean from his image, voice, and words she would seek within his scent. Not only hinting to where the young man had been but to his state of self, the scent rippling from him with his subtle breaths were something she recognized, fear. She took no pleasure in such yet only required it to make her point and stand. Her exhaled breath would ghost along his flesh as she drew her face away once again, the tapping against the table catching her gaze for but a moment.

Her gaze would pass over the group before them, including Mizuki as she turned towards them as intended, yet her gaze would flicker over the few remaining within the establishment. Too crowded for her liking when the matter at hand, was so very delicate for what she had, herself, overheard from the group. Yet her gaze would, as though it had never left, return to Mizuki as she approached. Though her gaze was with Mizuki she would listen as carefully as before to the male’s request. Adept at splitting her mind between tasks she would not only keep tabs on their surroundings and the hushed conversation of Mizuki’s group but also with the situation at hand, quite literally. A simple murmur would pass from her lips as she acted, “but of course, no one wants blood staining their establishment.” shifting the blade she would ensure that he felt its traveling movements as it left his neck, leaving behind no visible traces of a mark, yet carefully the blade would press to travel over the male's shoulder then down his ribs, lower and lower as she herself twisted to take up the seat beside him, drawing it closer in the process, using her left foot to do so.  The blade leaving no marks upon his clothing due to the angle she had held it would leave her blade position at a very specific angle, its tip settled against his more private region whilst its angle and length allowed it to rest at the males thigh, positioned where the femoral artery would be located just below. Removing the serving attire in a quick tug she would toss it to the table she had made noise at just in time to place her left hand atop his hand that had began tapping at the table as her stone like expression twisted into a beaming smile, unusually suiting the visible features of the right side of her face, angled enough for both the male and Mizuki to see her, to ensure her intentions. Her actions now, for the onlooker easily, almost too easily mistaken as swooned and taken by the male, from her arm under the table inclined towards him and her disfigured left hand atop his slightly curing her three remaining fingers against his. Her voice would come sweetly, again, oddly seeming to suit her aristocratic features, “Ouh, I would be so lucky. He is handsome isn't he.” Her gaze would flicker from Mizuki to the male as she continued, though her smile wouldn’t reach into her piercing yellow orb before it flickered back to Mizuki, in the process shifting her right leg to rest her calve muscle against hie right legs shin as though to keep him in place. “It's just, complicated you see," A sigh would heft from her chest as though a great burdan was being placed upon her shoulders, "he's from Kumoagakure, but wants to help, chivalrous really, see apparently some genin have been going missing, horrid isn't it. Those poor children.” Playing the part as a simple girl entrapped in the whims of a male and held to breathe by gossip came easy enough, a face like many others she had and would wear to get things done.

---

Word count: 916.
Total word count: 2161.

"Harrowing, it is. Evil tongues say Kumogakure is the cause of this whole missing affair.", Mizuki picked up where Mameha had left, frowning as her eyes shifted in worry for the Kumo-nin caught between the two. "Can you believe that? I don't mean to be rude here but what are you going to do if the rumours are true? You're making quite a bold statement by saying you don't support him..."

She had met this Kumo-nin before and that made it all the more dangerous. Passing as a student and fan-girl of Kiyoshi was one thing. Potentially being caught planning on doing something against the missing genin was a different matter all together. Was he here as a spy? Would he join them and betray them afterwards once they had found said mentioned lair? He had stated he held no interest in supporting Hastur, but words, lies, deception were easy tools for a trained shinobi to use. Even samurai were masters in feigning sincerity and those were supposedly not as shady as ninja. On the other hand, she knew his skill with the blade and was quite aware he'd be overwhelmed by most, if not all, present members of this rebellious flock.

"... especially when the Herald of Hastur can hear you.", leaning in towards Tomohiro, Mizuki whispered quietly enough that only him and Mameha would hear her words. Daremo already knew about that and perhaps Mameha might have had a suspicion, now confirmed or revealed. By dropping that title, though the hermit certainly didn't look like the Kumogakure diplomat in the slightest what with the sober clothing and simple cloak, Mizuki wanted to test the boy's resolve just a little further. See if he would consider it a bluff on her account, if he would link the missing pieces about her identity or if he'd hold true to his claim despite being caught by a Kumogakure shinobi in disguise.

Taking a step back, she'd observe his reaction and weigh his answer without a reply. Just letting a hawk-like gaze pierce his for a second before breaking eye contact. His reaction and answer would tell Mameha all she needed to know about his sincerity in opposing Hastur and his genuine desire to save these genin. Leaving it to her to decide if he should be granted the chance in joining the group, the hermit would walk back to the table where Daremo and Amaya were in conversation with her young friend.

Picking up on the last comments on promising genin and cult-like indoctrination, she felt a shiver crawl over her spine. That sort of behaviour? If Kumogakure was behind this there would be only one name surfacing: Jashinists. Mizuki took a slow, measured breath. She had a dark foreboding that she'd be right in her conclusion but without actual proof to back her claim it wouldn't be wise to point her finger at them. Shinobi were rather elusive, if anything, as had a certain Dragon of Konoha proven before.

"I have a suspicion of who could be behind this based on the information given. While I hope my hunch is wrong, we better start moving. We're already attracting more attention than I had anticipated.", she'd hint at Tomohiro's presence before addressing the young genin in particular. "Can you show us the way to where you spotted the man in robes? We'll continue form there".

The girl would nod and leave the elder alone, briefly watching if everyone was ready before swiftly making her way to the building hidden in the shadier district.






Having followed the girl a couple of buildings further, the hermit looked in the direction of where she was pointed at. A simple grey building with a heavy door and dusted windows stood between the rest of the buildings. At first sight nothing unusual. It looked like it had been vacant for so long. Perceptive eyes would spot small details that betrayed its use; a small seemingly random rub on the window just fit for a pair of eyes, a cobweb in the corner of the door's arch partially torn, the layer of dust before the door here and there thinner than the rest like careful footsteps had tried yet failed at not disturbing it.

"This is the place."
"Thank you for the help. While we investigate further, you stay safe, alright?"

The Konoha genin would then vanish, leaving the rescue to the group. While Mizuki awaited the other members of the rescue team, puffs of smoke would give the hermit access to her arsenal. Firstly, Seiun, her trusted katana. The immortal blade's existence honed by craft and meditation. She'd tie the weapon to her waist and position it in such a way it granted an iaijutsu practitioner such as herself the means to draw blood the moment the blade was unsheathed. The second puff would reveal her armour, the Rising Storm, a combination of smaller pieces making up the light armour. Swiftly donned, quickly adjusted to perfection. The golden topaz necklace would be tucked under her tunic, the whole ensemble hidden under the hermit's cloak. If only she had a hanfu to wear now, Mizuki would have considered her battle attire completed. But even without it, the sober hermit seemingly disinterested in the world now looked very much like a veteran warrior in her own right, the unusually calm aura that fostered kindness now being the silence before the storm which would soon pick up.

"Our mission is simple. Protect and bring the genin to safety while avoiding collateral damage since we're in the middle of Konoha. I'll leave it to your personal insights to deal with those who try to stop us."

Her personal method would be a swift execution but she already knew that wouldn't be the choice for some other particular members today. She'd hate to think what Daremo would do to them, and was left guessing to the methods of Amaya, Mameha and even Tomohiro should he have joined anyway.

With the mission stated, she'd pull her hood over her head and move towards the building, open the door and step inside. Two men would look up in surprise at the unfamiliar appearance, yet were quickly appeased as Mizuki stated her full name and title within Kumogakure. Her last name remarkably efficient in doing so, leaving the door open for those who had yet to enter...

---

1091
Total: 2823

Having asked what he wanted, Daremo glanced over to the young male at the table where Mizuki and the sweet-smelling lady were.  Asides from Mizuki, the other two members were strangers to him, and he wondered who they were. If his hearing was indeed correct, the boy had mentioned himself from being Kumogakure no Sato, a small piece of information that could not be overlooked. He knew of some of the discord surrounding the shinobi within Kumogakure no Sato, and the current leadership regiment. Though the details were fuzzy, there seem to be two sides forming, those who opposed Hastur, as the boy had made clear earlier, and those who were for the hectic words.

He knew of Mizuki’s stance on the matter. Similar to him, Hastur was someone neither particular like to varying extents. Hastur’s actions in Kaze no Kuni was not something Daremo approved of in the slightest, yet, he followed out of a need to protect his children that had a home in the village at the time. There was some risk openly imposing the self-proclaimed god, and Daremo did not want to take the chance of his children being used against him. Though he made moves in Suna, unbeknownst to all in here, such plans were blown apart with the untimely, and surprisingly, the death of another.

No longer having the help of a powerful ally, who spoke of honey sweet worlds of helping him reaching untold strength, he had to adjust accordingly. Skeptic he was at the offer back then, Daremo knew he shouldn’t have placed much into the agreement, but, subconsciously, he did so. Alas, a lesson was learned that day, along with him catching a glimpse at what is near the top of the shinobi world. They had shown him what was possible, gave him a glimpse at the power needed to reach to accomplish what he wanted, and he was at least grateful for that. He would use the knowledge to his benefit, and to help those who were dear to him. And if that meant using it to oppose a self-proclaimed God? Then, so be it.

Citrine eyes glance back to the father and daughter, listening as Amaya picked up where he had left off. He agreed with everything she had said. These genins who were being kidnapped was not the stand run-of-mill genins. They were not there just to ‘fill out’ the ranks, being disposable meat-shields for their comrades. The genins who entered the exams were the hope of the villages. They were the ones who were expected to become future leaders. To be senseis to others. To be the bodyguard of the future kage(s). To be the assassins which hunted in the shadows. The genins here were hand-picked for their current strength and their massive future potential.

The lack of bodies meant little in the shinobi, and criminal worlds. There are many techniques that can be used to dispose of a human body, and, if a technique can’t be used, then a ninja dog or feline would suffice enough. Disposing of a body was easy for those who have killed long enough. A lack of body just meant, whoever these people were, they are smart enough to not leave a body behind, if they did kill these genins. Personally, he did not believe none of the genin were killed, an opinion shared by Amaya. While killing off future problems, as in genins who shows enough threat as they are to warrant them being killed off now, he still did not believe this was the case.

Genins from multiple villages had been taken, and if they were being killed off because of their potential, that meant every village was at fault for the disappearances. Again, this did not sit well with him, considering the current state of everything. Sure, there were reasons why some villages would do it, but why now of all times? No, this had to do with something else. The priest-like robes of the one suspect point towards a cult or religious sect. He only knew of two, one being a rumor of sorts, and the other making their home in Iwagakure no Sato. If the disappearance was done by a cult, the mission was going to be a nuisance as cult members were zealous being, and fully commit themselves to their god.

As Mizuki made her way back over, Daremo glanced in her direction and looked back at the young Kumo-nin and sweet smelling woman. Seeing how nothing came from such a meeting, he focused on what Mizuki had to say about the matter. Daremo raised an eyebrow at Mizuki’s secrecy on who she believed was behind the disappearances. He could only assume, by taking Amaya’s words into account, the perpetrators are apart of a cult or some religious group. “Will more company be joining us?”, his words alluding to the young Kumo-nin, and the other woman. Seeing how Mizuki apparently knew them both on some level, Daremo deducted that they were alright . . . for now.

Tilting his head at Amaya, Daremo non-verbally communicated if she was ready to go. Only when she was ready did he followed Mizuki and the young girl out of the cafe. Though, as he was leaving, he glanced at the older male, curious about why he was not coming along with his daughter. He knew, if he was in the man’s shoes, he would not let his daughter go anywhere with shinobis, even if he knew one of them. There is simply no telling what could happen to her, but, alas, the male was in luck, for Daremo’s eyes were only for Amaya, and he no longer partook in some of the darker hobbies of the shinobi world.

---

With the occasional glance at Amaya, Daremo was alert as he followed Mizuki and the girl deeper into the shady district. A place where the normal rules don’t apply here. To a place where they have their own unique rules that must be followed unless one wished to not be seen again. Seeing the girl pointed, the grey-haired male looked at the simple grey building with a heavy door and dusty door wedged between other buildings. So plain was the building that it could have easily been overlooked. There was nothing about it that indicated it is a hideout for criminals. If it was it not for the girl’s help, assuming she was correct, he doubted any of them would have found it.

Standing beside Mizuki, Daremo removed ten senbons. Black in coloration, the projectiles were handed to Amaya, “Forgot to give you these earlier.”, he said. With a small poof of smoke, he unsealed a leather bracer with a hidden surprise to it. Slipping the bracer on his right wrist, he made sure it was secured in place. It would do him no good if the brace just fell off without warning. Slipping his hand in either sleeve, a pair of senbons were pulled out. Nearly two foot(60 centimeters) long, the senbons were black and had a silver tip to them. Instead of keeping them in hand, as one might suspect, he slid them into his hair in a criss-cross fashion. Another poof of smoke occurred as the Gariantō and secured it to his side in a way that he could withdraw it with ease.

With everything in order, Daremo relaxed. An eerie calmness falling over him as his breathing slowed, and his mind was cleared, as he paid a visited something to his other half, “Tik. Tock. Tik. Tock.”, such silence was broken by the animal within him, it’s massive claws tapping against the metal bars keeping it confined. The tapping stopped, and lazily, the beast opened up one of its massive eye, colder than any winter, and harsher than the suna deserts, the beast looked at its human half, “Finally visiting me, eh? When was the last time? Was it with the snake goddess? Or maybe, it with the sack of rotting meat. No matter, it been awhile . . . Nanashi.”

Shrugging at the question, Daremo moved towards the cage, “I been busy, but, I do feel bad in not letting you have your fun as of late. You know what is going on. You know what you can do. You know who you supposed to protect”. He knew such words were not needed, but, he wanted to say them anyway. Looking at the monster in the cage. A physical representation of who he was at his core; a being with a need for destruction, death, extreme violence, and a desire to spread pestilence to all those dared harms those who are his. Briefly, he wondered if it was worth letting such a side of him out, subject the others to this animal. Should he? As the cage disappeared, the beast standing up on all fours, lumbering out, the choice was made.

To those who knew him, or was perceptive enough, the calmness around Daremo would vanish as quickly as it came, replaced with an unsettle dangerous vibe, something that borders the realm of animalistic more so than a human. A predator was among them, and as he licked his lips, his eyes focus on, hopefully, the prey behind the door. “Personally speaking, rather kill everything that moves in there so they won’t be a problem later down the road. Letting any of them live will just bite us in the ass if they start doing this shit over again.”, He spoke, cold eyes, with a hint of warmth in them, looking at those around him, but lingering on Amaya before glancing back at the door.

Eyes locked onto the members, Daremo watched as they were appeased by Mizuki announcing her full name and title. The movement they let their guard down would be their demise, taking a single step forward, the distance between him and the two men was closed in the blink of the eye. The first victim to fall prey to him would be the man closest to him. The touch of fingers on his head and the feeling of something cold would be the last sensation felt as a ten-inch blade penetrated his neck, and his body dropped to the floor. Even before the body to hit the ground with a soft ‘thump’ Daremo was already on the move towards the next man who was attempting to react in time. Unlike his partner, he would not get the sensation of someone else touching him, just the coldness of a steel blade thrust into his heart, and yanked out. Catching the man before he could fall, Daremo lowered the body to the ground. Flicking the blood off his blade, Daremo glanced at those on this mission, “Shall we continue?”, he asked in a whisper, though, he wonders if it matters seeing how Mizuki announced her presence, and sure enough talking could be heard, and it was coming closer to their location. No matter, first blood had been spilled, and there will surely be more to come. 

---

1864[3048]

Gifting to Amaya:

Amaya’s attention, which had up until that point been on the young Genin providing them information, as well as her husband, shifted onto the eavesdropper as her gaze flickered in his direction. His words were certainly brave, she would give him that. To speak of a lack of support of the Raikage in earshot of others, especially those whose alliance were with Kumogakure, was certainly not something that happened every day. Even she for all of her dislike of Hastur kept her opinions quieted, and she was careful of where she spoke them. An eyebrow would raise as her impassive expression was instead replaced with curiosity. There was truly no telling if they could trust him or not, and while she had no qualms to seeing another die, she certainly happened to agree about how the owner of this establishment probably did not in fact want blood all over the place. It was a pain in the arse to clean up after all. Even still, his life wasn’t in her hands, and it wasn’t her choice to make, but rather the female who held a blade to him.

Her attention would then shift onto Mizuki, listening to her words. When she spoke of moving out and towards the house Amaya gave a subtle nod of agreement: no good would come of them wasting time after all, especially if the latest victim was still alive - there was no telling what was being done to him. At Daremo’s question about the Kumo-nin joining them her attention shifted to Mizuki as well, awaiting a reply before heading out, following along with them while keeping a close eye out for any trouble that might arise as they followed behind the young Genin leading the way. In the back of her mind she found herself questioning why the girl’s father hadn’t come with them, and yet she knew it would be harder to hide if she needed to. It would also give someone a weapon to use against her should it come to it. Perhaps this way was best?

Keeping her focus on their surroundings, a sideways glance would occur as Daremo mentioned having forgotten to give her something earlier. Taking the ten senbon she gave them a quick glance over, judging their use and strength in a short glance, before slipping them onto her person with a nod of thanks and a soft smile: she’d likely put these to use on this very mission depending on how hairy things ended up getting. As they traveled the oddest of things happened, like a change in the air that came from the man she knew oh so well. What had been calmness moments ago became something that to others might be quite unsettling but to Amaya only caused her to raise a brow as she regarded the man next to her, or rather the beast that had emerged from its cage. She knew intimately what had just emerged from Daremo in a mental sense, knew it quite well. It was his inner beast, a vicious and blood thirsty monster who would do anything and everything to ensure that those it cared about - a quite small pool of names as it were - was kept safe.

As they arrived she kept quiet as Mizuki told the girl to stay safe. She nodded to the woman’s words about their mission: it was simple and straight forward in words, but Amaya know that there was no telling what they would face, as any and all of them likely knew. As Mizuki gave her name and position within Kumogakure, Amaya watched the reaction of the two men carefully, her suspicions growing further as that was all that was needed to let them in.

Her gaze would shift long enough upon Daremo to see the beast within lingering its gaze on her after speaking words of what would occur once they were inside. Despite the brutality behind the words she couldn’t help but to agree: leaving anyone alive would cause them problems later down the road, while giving them the means to repeat this kind of a situation over again. No, perhaps the beast’s way was the best way.

Her gaze would track the movements of the beast easily enough as the two guarding the door let their guard down, their demise coming quickly and swiftly. First one body and then the other hitting the ground, lifeless. At the beasts words a soft smirk would form on Amaya’s face before she entered after Mizuki, slipping the same black senbon that Daremo had given her moments prior free. With a flick of her wrist the first two individuals to lay eyes upon Mizuki and the rest would be blinded by the barbed senbon, Amaya darting forward to remove her weapons, shredding what left of the eyes of those individuals whom she had attacked, causing gut wrenching screams of agony. Oh yes, the Genin would be safe: but anyone not on their side would certainly suffer this evening, of that much Amaya was sure.

---

840 | 2,800

The woman’s blade shifted slightly on his neck as he moved in on it. He took a sigh as he focused himself. Tomohiro started to give himself a mental peptalk. At this moment, there wasn’t much that he would be able to do outside of attempt to calm himself. A subtle breath flowed through his lungs as he found calm. The tenseness in his body eased up, but he knew that he still wreaked of fear. There was no hiding it. Talk would only get you so far. People skills were quite his best. Tomohiro usually did well under pressure, but that kind of pressure he would not warrant well. That wasn’t something that he was trained for. He preferred the idea of threat in the situation of combat. This definitely threw him a curveball. The woman’s breath close to his jawline as it caused the hairs on his neck to stand up. The feeling was pleasant, but at the same time unpleasant. The physical contact was something that he didn’t adhere to quite well. He hadn’t ever spent any form of contact by a woman in such a way.

It seemed like his words would somewhat betrayed him at first. Fear made you do things that you wouldn’t normally do. The woman that had been speaking with the genin leaned in and mentioned something in a low tone. That was the last thing he ever expected. Those words hadn’t touched his ears in so long he almost didn’t know what to think. The first thoughts that came to his mind was that he may have been in a greater danger than he anticipated. The woman would refer to herself as the Herald of Hastur. Simultaneously, something else triggered. It was her the voice, the title, and the way she spoke. He knew this person, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. "What a pleasure to see you here. Is this the partner you spoke about so much?" What did she mean “partner?” Was this the way of saving him? This started to make him wonder even more. Tomohiro just replied with a quick “Yes.”

The blade on his neck was quickly forgotten as he started to become lost in thought. He attempted to the memory together as if a puzzle. A puzzle that you did over and over, but still seemed to find a challenge to it. It then clicked. This woman was someone he was quite familiar. A woman he once trained with. He had only heard small things from her. The Nakir wondered what had happened to her. It had been months or longer since he had heard anything about her. Even one of her clansmen hadn’t known anything about her whereabouts. This was definitely good news to hear, but also a weird time. There was definitely more to this, but his mind had yet to wrap around everything. The events were confusing. Between the missing genin and other events that were currently transpiring, he wished that life would throw him some sort of hint as to what he was supposed to do.

The woman closest to him had the blade the blade from his neck removed it in such a way that it didn’t cause any damage to his epidermis. He was grateful to say the least. “Thank you,” he would croaked up. He was completely silent. It was mostly due to the nature of the Herald’s announcement. The shock factor still resonated within his very being. What was he to do next? There were questions that he wanted answered, but the words that he sought were lost. How was he supposed to address her after all this time? What’s this woman truly who she said she was. Tomohiro sort of sunk down in his seat as he adjusted the hood on his robes trying to find comfort within. The feelings he had were conflicted. Why did this have to happen now? Tomohiro was glad that he was able to find something that he was missing. That was something he could check off of his long list of things that he needed to do. Though, he wondered if he could get time with her alone. It would indeed have to wait. There were others that needed his help. This wasn’t quite the appropriate time for time for those thoughts. The time would come when he would have his chance. He was sure of it.

---

They followed the young genin to a grey building. It looked abandoned. If he were to walk by casually, he wouldn’t have suspected anything of it. It made him wondered what else there would be around the village. As he had been making rounds around the place, he didn’t find  anything like this unusual. Though now that he saw it, there would be a little bit more suspicion. The place definitely could use a clean up. The place would have been ideal for people to just casually ignore it. Tomohiro would keep that in mind. There may have been a need for just that in the future. He wasn’t sure what he would need to do that for, but he would keep the thought in the back of his mind. This whole thing was a learning experience. He would take all that the knowledge that he could get.

Tomohiro agreed with the hermit as he stood among the more experienced members of the group. This mission would need to be done and leave everything in a pristine fashion. Tomohiro hadn’t really trained himself in the art of stealth techniques. Hiding from animals was one thing, but possibly other shinobi was another thing altogether. Tomohiro was more of a destructive force kind of guy. Though, what he wasn’t expecting was to just casually walk through the front door. He would enter last letting his betters get ahead of him. The young Nakir’s suspicions had been confirmed. The puzzle that he needed to solve was partially completed.

It seemed like one of them could no longer contain themselves as the first bodies had dropped. So, they were really doing this, he thought. Tomohiro drew his Kenmei as he wasn’t sure what else he should do. It seemed like he was outclassed. His blade started to burn with a torrent of grey flames. He took deep breaths as he activated his Netsugan. The violet cornea of his eyes changed to a deep red. The pupils looking more snake like. Colors of his vision changed. He was able to see thermal images. It was an edge up from his original eyesight. Tomohiro would keep his eyes to the rear. Hopefully, he would be able to do some good or make a callout if he saw anything. However this turned out, he hoped that he would be able to rescue the genin alive.

1159/3089

Music:

Even as his rescuers were entering the hideout of the cultists, Hebiyachi was continuing to endure the gifts that the man who had entered his room was so very fond of giving. There had been time between the sessions, but Hebiyachi did not know how long those intervals of respite had been. When nobody was there to torture him, he had been left alone in complete and utter darkness, unable to see or hear anything; left alone with only his thoughts and the words that had been granted to him by his torturer. But when the man returned, he would continue to carve away at Hebiyachi’s body. The dim light that would accompany he black robed figure allowed the young genin to see his blood stains covering the floor before and he was able to pick out what in instrument that would be used against him was before it met his flesh. Knives, kunai, scalpels, and other implements of torture had been introduced to the routine that Hebiyachi had endured over the last unknown amount of time. At the moment, the man was walking toward him with a ceremonial looking dagger. He had just returned from one of his long absences, and he had plenty to say.

Strangely enough, Hebiyachi felt a sense of relief flowing over him as the cultist approached him. He knew what was coming now. He was ready. A blade on his flesh would be a relief from the true torture of this place. Being left alone in the darkness was worse than any pain that the man could inflict on him. His chained hands had long since gone numb from lack of circulation in combination with the pain. When he was left alone in the darkness, he could not see, he could not hear, and he could not feel another. There was nothing all around him, and so only the words of the jashinite echoed through his head for hours, maybe even days on end. He did not know, but it always felt like an eternity. And whenever that door opened, and the robed man approached him, he knew what was coming. He was ready for the pain, because the pain would never compare to the mental anguish brought about but the silent darkness. Indeed, the pain was a relief. But more than that, it was a gift. It was is reward for staying alive. The pain reminded him that he still existed, and that there were those who cared about his state of being. The pain was a gift.

A gift…

Hebiyachi blinked hard as he realized what he was thinking. The words of is torturer were ringing true. He loved the pain. It was a blessing that he wanted to accept whenever he could. But he knew that was wrong. He knew that he could not act like it was what he wanted; what he needed. The young man let out a groan as the cultist drew closer. The feeling was slowly returning to his flayed flesh as his savior-no…rescuer listed the knife to his skin. “You yearn for this clod steel on your flesh, do you not?” The man’s whisper seemed to penetrate ever fiber of the boys being. He longed for the man to plunge the knife deep into him and bring something back to his reality. But alas, the knife merely hovered inches above his shoulder. Hebiyachi let out another wordless groan, unable to articulate anything other than a primal desire or distaste. Even he was not sure which it was at this point. There was silence again, and because Hebiyachi could barely keep his eyes open, he thought the cultist may have left again. That thought sent a shudder through his whole body. Was wasn’t even sure if the man had come into the room at all. Maybe he was going crazy.

But then his voice broke the silence again. “It is the gift of Lord Jashin to feel pain as you do. It reminds you that you are alive. It reminds you that you are real. It is the kindest gift you could ever be granted.” His eyes dated toward the dagger as it was brought closer to his skin. To Hebiyachi, it felt as though electricity was dancing between his skin and the knife. He burned for it to be pressed into his skin. He desired nothing more than the warmth of his blood passing over his body to remind him that it was still there; the he was still there. “Please…” the boy whispered. There was a small chuckle from the man in response. “So you have come to understand the blessing that pain is then? How would you like to come to know it even more…intimately. How would you like to learn the true gift of Lord Jashin.” Hebiyachi wanted to shake his head. He wanted to protest, but he needed the pain. The young man opened his mouth to reply…

BANG!

The door to his holding area flew open with a crash. “Sir,” an unfamiliar voice spoke. It was another person that seemingly reported to this cultist. Someone under him in some kind of chain of command that Hebiyachi was to exhausted to understand. “Sir, there are intruders here. It looks like they killed the guards at the door.” There was a pause before Hebiyachi felt the blade move away from his skin as his torturer stood up straight. Hebiyachi moaned quietly. “It seems your allies have come to rescue you, boy. Little do they know that by doing that, they have prolonged your punishment.” As the man stepped away, Hebiyachi screamed internally. He had been so close! He also felt real again! But now that was being stripped form him just like his flesh that littered the torture chamber floor. He could not feel. He needed to feel. “Send the vanguard to the entrances to hold the intruders off. I need to go fetch my more ceremonial robes.” Those were the last words that he spoke as the entrance to his room slammed shut, and Hebiyachi was left again in utter darkness.

“No…” the young man said quietly. “No no no no no!” His voice grew louder and more raw as they boy called out to his captor. He creamed and scream to bring him back. He could not be in the darkness again. He could not be left alone. He needed to feel! His screams of auish echoed throughout the room as he continued shouting, but in the hallway beyond his room, his shouts would be barely audible.

WC:1102+2466=3568

A light chuckle would rattle within the hollow of her chest at the males quick reply, the sounds itself unusually fitting as it matched the sweeter time she had used to reply to Mizuki, a façade, yet this seemed to fit her better than the tone of voice that was used, almost as though it may have been real. “Who knew I was so lucky?” The smile would remain in place yet so would both her hands, her left atop his hand, halting the tapping he had fallen into rhythm with and her other holding the blade of Ripa tsume to his delicate region. Even then her gaze would shift over the table Mizuki had previously been at as Mizukii lent closer to bare her title before the male. Taking her time to wash her gaze over those seated at the table, seeking out the details of them that she could have missed prior. Her movements simple enough, many that may have been on- looking could easily have thought her mind had simply wandered as the other two conversed. Though in truth none seated at that table were in the sense her comrades, for now, they made up a team that Mizuki felt comfortable with and such information meant a great deal to Taeru herself. Registering such her head would tilt up and back just a touch, as though she might sneeze only to better inhale the scents within the room, storing them or use before letting the breath out in a small sigh.  Yet to ensure that Mizuki would return from the endeavor Taeru’s mind had fallen into sync that she too would accompany them, Taeru after all, had insight the bigger picture and Mizuki was to play a bigger part in many respects and Taeru herself. So who would she be if she did not at least attempt to ensure that the requirements for a bigger picture would be met? Who better to stand against a ‘great evil’ than the one who herald' such presence to the world?

Her gaze would flicker back to Mizuki giving a slight incline of her head as the female rose from the seat before turning her attention back to the male. Her form would lean some towards his keeping up with the façade as she mumbled, loud enough for him alone to hear, “For now it looks like you shall be joining us. We shall see if you are trustworthy, it shall be fatal if not.” Her grip would tighten a touch on his hand as the others rose from the table and left the building. Yet she would keep them in place for a little while longer, a simple way to ensure any that may have been watched them unspotted by the group. She would wait a couple of minutes ensuring things wouldn’t be suspicious before shifting her rump from the chair and in turn slipping her blade back into its hiding spot beside the other as she rose to stand, awaiting the male to raise, her hand would remain, however atop his before linking her arm with his own  for them to leave in a manner that would seem natural for how it had looked that they had been within the tavern. With the group a couple of minutes ahead she would keep her arm looped with his as she took in short yet quick breaths to soak in the scents before following the trails left behind, guiding the male with her.

Coming up behind the group, she would unlink her arm from the males yet remain close by, ready and on standby in case he chose to betray them, just in time to catch not only the plan but able to watch as the group prepared for battle, taking note of what weapons each chose. She would simply take the chance to again inhale the scents, this time associating them to the individuals choosing to speak up just before the group could move in, “These people, they no not the words of gods, in their blasphemy they are cruel. Do not spare them, no matter how sweet and misguided they seem, for sparing such people shall grant no favours. Kill them.”  

Watching the group file in she would wait to bring up the rare, taking the opportunity to not only watch the groups back but to also watch the group itself, to study them as she picked up the sensation and feel of each before her. Though how death was brought forth was most definitely an art, no pleasure on Taeru’s part would be gained, yet the time for such contemplation had no place here. A distaste could easily bubble into a form of disgust for the group she labeled to be blasphemous as they went against all she had been taught to believe about the same religion. And from disgust, anger could easily bloom within the pit of her stomach causing venom to threaten to invade her throat. Baring such sensations down for the time being she would begin to hum. Watching the enemy be dispatched of so quickly did not pass her mind by as quickly as it may have seemed, ensuring that each and every memory she could glean from the group would be information stored away for later use should such be required. She would follow their advance, stepping into the fight only when required, et following the scents of long drawn blood would tug her to herd the group in the direction of the scent's source.

---

Word count: 928.
Total word count: 3089.

The entrance had been cleared, deliverance had begun. The two men had died in quietude, and others were getting closer. Mizuki decided not to wait until they stumbled into the group, opening the door and moving forward as if she belonged here. In a way, she did, considering she was a Raiu of Kumogakure, but long had been the days since they had not heard about her. A face and name as swiftly forgotten as any other that had sacrificed their life for the good of the false god. The other men would halt in their track as they saw Mizuki. Confusion as they weren't expecting visit, faint recognition as the diplomat's presence vaguely was recalled, silence as Seiun was drawn from its scabbard without a single word and ended the lives of the Jashinists with the slightest of resistance. Seiun had been a purple blur, the speed with which the iaijutsu practitioner had drawn her blade bordering that of romanticised legends.

Stepping into an empty room, several doorways lead to a variety of directions. Undiscovered rooms. A single stairway leading upstairs. A single revealed trapdoor leading downstairs and into the underground network the genin had hinted at. From what she could pick up on sound, there was little movement within the house. Some stumbling above and in the room to the left, quite a lot of movement coming from downstairs. Towards them in a rather hurried pace.

"They are expecting us.", Mizuki said calmly as she shifted her position to stand with Tomohiro. She was fairly certain there was no need to tell the others it would be advised to watch each other's back, but knowing Tomohiro's skill was not quite on par with that of most of them she preferred to keep watch over him. Just in case. Not long after, shadows jumped out the trapdoor and instantly engaged the group in combat. As they sounded the alarm, two more men descended from the stairs and another few barged in from the next room. All in all a dirty dozen trained men had appeared to deal with the handful of intruders. Little did they know that numbers wouldn't mean much.

Mizuki's katana parried a strike at her mid-riff, pushing up the opponent's blade to create an opening with little effort and allowed Seiun to sink deeply in his flesh as it pierced the basic armour he was wearing. While the man tumbled down, clutching his chest in pain, the hermit's hand would find a senbon and flick it to an incoming guard to her left. With the power it was thrown, the man was too late to anticipate its speed and found it digging in his throat well before he understood what was happening. Leaving him vulnerable to anyone nearby to end his life in a more merciful way if they so desired.

All in all, the battle would be a short one as the combined power of the present party was overwhelming the dozen. A terrible tempest hardly broken in power. As the others each had taken care of their own targets, Mizuki jumped down the trapdoor and moved forward. Being used to a life as a diplomat, she did not bother much with stealthy movement. She'd make her presence known much in the same way she had entered the building - in plain sight.

Reaching a hub of tunnels, Mizuki was greeted with a blazing fire as welcoming gift. Reflexively she formed the hand seals of her suiton barrier, finding the flames douse themselves against her barrier. Steam blinded the two parties for just a moment before Mizuki's eyes adapted to the dissipating cloud and moved in to slay the shinobi that had dared to halt them. With the help of her shoes' enchantments, her movement had felt like she had teleported in the dimly lit hub, the eyes of her opponent not sufficiently trained to deal with the jounin's speed. Seiun would once again find its target, piercing his heart as it was guided by blind hands.

"We better split up here. ANBU, could you use your sensory to find Hebiyachi?", she asked, deliberately not naming the members that belonged to that division to preserve their secrecy. Old or new, former or actual members. They would know who Mizuki wanted to reach and trust to bring this extraction task to a success. Unlike herself, they had the sensory and experience to do so, whereas Mizuki's long-term diplomatic focus had left her crippled on the arts of stealth and sensory. Having made her request clear, Mizuki took out a senbon and infused it with raiton chakra before she pricked Tomohiro with it. Once the spark of electricity revealed the establishment of the barrier, she would move to take a tunnel for herself.






The corridor she had taken lead into a new area that looked much like a torture room. The different attributes, benches, tables and tools displayed made Mizuki raise an eyebrow. One single men stepped inside the room, arms spread out to greet her. He bore simple black robes which hid the armour underneath it and seemed to be of a mind the woman was in need of a lecture about Jashin's marvels.

"Ah, if it isn't the Herald herself. In the flesh. A body, beautiful yet untouched by the Lord's greatest gifts. Now standing in a room full of potential to get to know him in a more intimate way."
"Spare me your gospel, Jashinist. What is the meaning of this?"
"The meaning of this room? Well, I'm fai-"
"Don't act coy with me. You know well what I'm talking about. Who ordered you to kidnap these genin? Their names are recorded as event participants. Is your strategic insight this poor that you do not realise the hosting forces will be looking for them?"

His smile faltered as he was berated by the hermit and pointed at a fatal flaw many of them clearly knew about. He could only agree with the danger of this mission, even if it had been entrusted only to the most capable of Kumogakure, but the orders came from higher hand. From the false god himself, no less.

"The Raikage Hastur Miyamoto ordered us as such, milady."
"Has he lost his mind? Does he intent to invoke war upon our Village?"
"I do not know but I'm fairly certain you can understand that I-"
"Who's in charge of this farce?"
"Raiu Hayate, miss."
"Bring me to that idiot."
"If I may...", he began, gauging her reaction. "We have intruders at the moment. Perhaps..."
"I'm well aware of them. You'll bring me to Hayate and proceed to delay their advance while I'll do my duty of knocking some sense into his head."

The Jashinist nodded and beckoned her. Leading her to the main room which served as a makeshift cathedral. He was at an unease despite Mizuki's calming aura. Not feeling the peace that came with her own chakra control but experiencing the ominous quietude before the storm. The diplomat irritated, now walking towards another Storm user. Even if he was not the combatant, he was more than willing to be somewhere else than between two forces whom could unleash ravage upon the land.

At the same time as the Jashinist was preoccupied with his own thoughts, Mizuki hid her own worry behind the trained stoic facade of the diplomat. Hayate was not someone to dismiss as easily. As a Raiu, she knew about his power and the fact it was certainly on par with her own current skill. If a man of his power had been put in charge of this kidnapping campaign, it meant it had been classified as an A or even S-rank by itself. He would know that she hadn't been around Kumogakure in months, leaving Mizuki only with one last bit of hope on the matter. Did he expect her to be on a mission or was he aware she had been hiding in Iwagakure?

Spoiler:

Her questions would soon be answered when the two of them stepped into a large room. At the end was an altar of sorts, two black candles burning before a man dressed in golden robes chanted softly for the men and women who sat kneeling. Their bodies were riddled with signs of suffering. Black bruises, cuts, dirt, trembling. They were young, fear planted deep within their mind. Broken from within. Hayate would stop chanting and turn to meet the perpetrators of his ceremony. When he laid eyes on the piercing glare of his clan member, he spoke.

"We will continue our ceremony another time. All of you, leave for your quarters. As for you, Raul, inform our men we are evacuating. It seems the infiltrators have already compromised most of our sanctuary."

The kids would rise to their feet and walk away, the man in black robes as well as he urged them on. Then, only the two Raiu remained within the sanctuary.

"So you're the one jeopardising this campaign. Quite a surprise, considering you are his Herald."
"I was the Herald of a man who promised to make Kumogakure great again. Not the Herald of a man who left his Village to rot, draining it of its essence to fuel his own god complex."

Hayate moved his hands to remove the mask he wore and placed it gently on the altar before he rubbed his chin. Weighing her words against his own perceptions on the matter. Much like Mizuki knew what he was capable of, Hayate knew his opponent carried a lot of weight in her own way. The Ronin Executioner had the heritage to appeal to the samurai, even if only but a little. The sensei of the Raiu dojo was a woman who could impact the future on the inside and outside of the clan. The Herald of Hastur could, as she just came to do, move anywhere within the Village or its pockets of influence and cause serious harm well before they realised it. And there was no saying what other power and influence she held behind the curtains of her kindness if Hayate considered the power that was currently following in her wake, rampaging through his little Jashinist lair. Hayate had to admit to himself that, while Mizuki was not a shinobi of the greatest skill or power, she could bring down an entire Village merely by her words if she was left unopposed.

"You have grown dangerous, Mizuki. Confident. Influential. Do you seek to become a goddess replacing the dark god's seat?"
"I care none for his position. What I see is how he destroys our home for his own gains. Tell me, Hayate, since when have the Raiu grown so blind as not to see the threat that hangs above Kumogakure? "
"How dare you consider him a threat?"
"I'm the one who made his name. I have all right to take what I gave him in good faith, thank you very much.", she said raising an eyebrow. "Especially when he welcomes the destroyers of Sunagakure with open arms and allows missing-nin to destroy the events he hosted in our land."
"Ah yes. That... A failure from our ANBU division, I dare say"
"A failure from the host, you mean."
"I care not for such trivialities. It is nothing Kumogakure would not have survived, whereas the refugees were already considered dead. All those who survived should be grateful for our extended hand."
"My, how considerate of you."

Hayate sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. He could pick up the clash of the infiltrators against his own forces as they battled each others, the sound echoing through the hallways of the underground. It was clear he had failed his mission towards his Raikage, but returning home with empty hands was hardly an option for someone of his position. Taking home the head of the rising usurper seemed like a proper compensation.

"You seek to protect Kumogakure by taking down a dark god. I seek to protect Kumogakure by executing his wishes and letting his destructive attention be focused on distant lands rather than our homes. We won't come to an agreement, it seems, so I suggest we duel until only one of us remains standing."
"An unfortunate necessity."

---

2078
Total: 4901

OOC:
- killed 2 of 12 welcoming committee members, leaving the rest for you lot to have fun with.
- Tomohiro: you were given a C-rank raiton defence

355/390:

Delight and excitement twinkled in his eyes at the prospect of killing others. Not from insanity, the emotion was primal in context, it touched on the primitive nature of humans and animals who predate on others. The thrill of the hunt. The adrenaline that comes with the chase. The sudden spikes of dopamine rushing through the body at the idea of a successful kill, causing pleasures that could not be easily replicated with other means. Such emotions being a callback to his earlier days of bloodshed, where killing was more of a hobby than it was now. During times where sex was not enough to scratch an itch, but, killing another would do the trick. A somewhat better time.

Though, with those emotions came the need to protect his possessions. Much like a lion protects his pride from all threats, so does Daremo protects those who are in his inner circle. Territorial was the man who stalks amongst them. So easy would be turned on anyone who threatens Amaya, or mentions wanting to cause harm to his anyone who he considered apart of his family. His loyalty only extended to those who he deemed worthy of such privilege with everyone else being treated with indifference masked behind a friendly disposition. Did he trust the members who were on this mission? He trusted Amaya. He trusted Mizuki. The rest? Well, he trusted Mizuki’s judgment on the matter.

Citrine eyes flickered towards the direction of the footsteps. The cooling bodies having been forgotten at the moment of two more guards appeared, their eyes laying on Mizuki, and seemingly ignoring the herald’s company. How rude of them to not reside the monsters with the Herald of Kumo. How rude of them to focus on only Mizuki, and not the threats that were lurking around her. He wanted to take a step forward, to strike out against the men, to spill their blood on the ground, yet, he did not. Instead, he simply straightens up, smiling at the men, watching as blood gush from their eyes, courtesy of Amaya.

It had been a while since he watched his lover work. Been some time since they had been on a mission together that involved killing. As the screams penetrated the hallways, the men’s eyes have been ripped useless shredded pieces of tissue, he licked his lips. “Nice work.”,the dark words were whispered, moving to stand beside his lover. The cries of the men steadily grew weaker, and weaker, as the shinigami came to claim their souls. They would not be missed by Daremo. They would not be remembered by either. They were just another nameless soul that he had seen been taken by death.

Like lambs to a slaughter, Daremo would barely catch the sight of Mizuki’s swinging her sword, a purple trail, reminding the man of a comet’s tail, streaking behind the perfectly executed swing. A single stroke being enough to end two men’s lives. The bodies dropping as if the proverbial strings holding them up was cut by the woman. Impressive was the silver-haired male at his friend(?) improvement in skill. She had definitely gotten better from her solitude after the Seige of Inayabama event. Briefly, he wonders would the occurrence of that encounter would have turned more favorable if she had the skills shown now? Alas, there was no time to dwell on the past. After all, the past could not be changed, so why use dwelling on it?

“Still merciful as ever.”, He agreed with his humane side statement. Even after experiencing the horrors who Kaze no Kuni, Mizuki still showed mercy to the enemies. From his viewpoint, she had gone with the quickness and cleanest way to end their lives. He doubted they fully registered what happened before the single stroke ended them. He wonders what would it take for her to lose it? What atrocities needed to be committed for her to shred her stance of mercy? “Don’t even think about. I did not let you loose for such.” Any thoughts on the matter were shut down with that comment.

Bypassing the cooling bodies, sparing them not a glance, he followed Mizuki into an empty room with several doorways leading in different directions, and a single stairway leading upstairs. Daremo gazed towards the revealed trapdoor that seemingly leads to a basement compartment if the amount of movement coming from it was any indication. The intricate layout of the building was impressive due to one would have never guessed it just by looking from the building’s exterior. One could have assumed the inside would have been what one expect an office building layout would be, but, that was not the case here.

“I would be surprised if they weren’t expecting us.” He spoke, keeping alert at the sound of footsteps approaching them, and watching as Mizuki moved closer to the other male in the group “We weren’t subtle with our entrance.” Daremo did not mind how everything was handled so far. Former Anbu he might be, he had shied away from the use of stealth and was now more of an open fighter. Those killed by him would not it was him who did it before meeting the Shinigami.

Just as the words left his mouth, multiple shadows, he counted ten, revealed themselves to the intruders. No time was given to Daremo to look over at Amaya, to check on her well being, for he had to sidestep to the right a strike meant to split him in half. The male’s bastard sword getting lodged into the floor. Right-hand strikes out against the bald-headed male, chop to the male’s neck, only for the male to duck underneath it. Narrowingly Daremo jumped over the bisecting swing and landed a safe distance from his adversary. He noted, whoever the individual was, they were not a pushover if the sting from his leg is any indication. The sword having clipped him ever slightly.

Eyeing the male in front of him, along with keeping his sense aware of what happened around him. This person was different from the others, he was only a tad bit slower than Daremo. Readying himself for the charging male, who had the bastard sword lifted on his shoulders, Gariantō was unsheathed. The treasure found within the ruins of Sunagakure, no Sato coming to life as it segmented into different sections, with a thin cable connecting the pieces together. Moving like a sea of serpent's, Daremo did a downward slash, the three segments of the blade shooting towards the approaching male with tremendous speed. The left prong was aimed at the kidney, the main blade at his lungs, and the right prong at his right leg. The male would not be able to react in time as each segment sunk into his flesh, piercing completely through him, and tasting the blood of one of many victims to follow.

Yanking the segments out, Daremo did not pay attention as the male fell onto the ground, he turning around just in time to block a pair of daggers aimed at the back of his neck. A contest of strength briefly occurred between him, and the young male, but needed with Daremo pushing his adversary back. Seeing them stumble, he pressed his forward to take advantage, the segment blades of Gariantō being sent forward, aiming to riddle holes in the male upper body. Sure enough, the segments found their mark, with the main blade piercing through the male’s neck and the prongs in non-lethal parts of the body. The male was not dead, yet, but, if the gaping hole in his neck was not treated soon, he would be.

The animal savored the pain filled moans of the male. Similar to how certain animals get excited at the sight of wounded prey, so to did Daremo. “Focus.” Sidestepping to the right, his left hand lashed out, grabbing the wooden base of the short spear aimed to puncture him in the stomach. Citrine eyes met brown ones as he attempted to yank the spear out of the male’s hand, only to be met with resistance. Forgoing the action, unless he wanted to be attacked from the others that were lurking, Daremo jumped back, putting some distance between him and his adversary.

Dodging the rapid number of thrusts aimed at his upper body, Daremo grunted when the spear impacted with his shoulder. The simple and elegant kosode doing its job in protecting him from any damage. Weaving through the series of jabs and feints, not minding the strikes that hit his upper body, Daremo was steadily progressing forward on his opponent, waiting for a chance to strike. An overextension by his opponent would provide the golden opportunity for the silver-haired male.  Gariantō being used to sweep, and yank the adversary off his feet, and crashing to the ground. Like a predatory, Daremo pounced, pulling out two black senbons that were thrown with deadly accuracy at the downed opponent. The pair of needles lodging into the floor after piercing through the male’s neck.

Yanking the senbons out of the male’s neck, blood squirting like a fountain, Daremo gazed down at his opponent. Raising his foot up, Daremo brought it down with the force of a sledgehammer, savagely stomping on the male’s neck, and twisting until the satisfying crunch was heard to signify the neck had been broken. Looking around, Daremo took note of the rest of the dwindling fighting, his eyes scanning to look for Amaya. Seeing his lover was okay, he moved towards her, pocketing the senbons and Gariantō back to where they came.

“Come on.” Daremo spoke, having spotted Mizuki jump down the trapdoor which many of the men came from. Eyes scanned the interrior of the tunnel as he followed Mizuki while making sure to stick close to Amaya as well. Grey walls, cracked and showing signs of wear, surrounding them on each side, and potentially causing fear to spike for those with clausphobia for the place indeed felt constricting in nature.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, a swathe of fire greeted them, only for it to be put out by a suiton courtesy of Mizuki. Narrowing his eyes, Daremo was able to pierce through the thick steam that had engulf the tunnel, seeing the shinobi who had casted the fireball. A moment later the steam dissipated, revealing the shinobi to the other members who were not able to perceive through the steam. He did not make a move to strike down the obstacle for Mizuki had already moved to silence the threat with practical ease.

The question proposed by Mizuki was not directed to any specific person in the group. Anbu was a secret organization after all, or at least it was supposed to be, thus, only those in the know should know the members. “Might not be in Anbu, but I can provide some knowledge of the layout,” Daremo spoke, allowing his chakra to flow from him. Mentally, the world around him turned black and white with those with chakra signatures shining brightly against the backdrop. Looking around, there was a number of footprints going down the different tunnels. Some of the footprints were faded, indicating older tracks, and others were more solid, representing newer tracks.


Looking at the west tunnel, “There is an unknown chakra signature in a room there.”, he pointed in the direction, “Can’t tell who it belongs to, but, the signature is similar to your standard genin, could very well be who we are looking for.” Eyes narrowed as another signature made itself known, “There is a powerful signature moving into a room in the middle tunnel. All these tunnels connect to one another in one way or another. I can only sense the chakra signatures of the genin, and, presumably the mastermind behind this, but, I can’t be certain if there are other cultists.”  Cutting off his chakra, Daremo noted Mizuki was heading in the direction of the strongest chakra. Mentally he cursed, the chakra, while not terrifying and oppressive as Lamya’s, was still something incredibly strong. He might have faith in her ability, but, there was doubt she could handle that on her own.

Multiple footsteps were heard coming from a corridor coming from the right as four cultists emerged from the shadowy tunnel. Their weapons brandished, the three charged towards the group, just as Mizuki disappeared down the tunnel. “I and Amaya will deal with these fools. Find the missing genin, and make sure he is safe. If things are favorable,  meet up with Mizuki to neutralize the threat. Be careful out there.”, Daremo barked, taking control over the situation due to Mizuki’s absent, “I will provide you two cover to get to the tunnel.”

Stepping forward, Daremo unsheathed Gariantō and struck out against nearest cultist. Being near impossible to dodge, all three segments of the blade pierce through the male’s neck before it was savagely ripped open by a sideward yank. Retracting the blades, Daremo moved against the other assailant, blocking and parrying strikes aimed to cripple him. Seeing an opening, Daremo lashed out with a kick, hitting the male in the chest, causing him to stumble back. Gariantō lashed out once more, curling around the male’s neck. As if yanking a coiled chain, Daremo pulled hard, the sharpen edges of his weapon severing the male’s neck.

Cold eyes glanced passed the cooling bodies of the cultist, recently slain by him, and looked in the direction of Amaya, waiting for her to finish up her opponents. He knew the woman did not need any help in defeating her adversaries, she was stronger than him, though the gap was closing, thus, those who she fought should not give her must trouble. Though he reckoned, if they managed to gang up on her, she might be in some trouble, in which case, he would step in and help. Seeing her handling the cultists, his attention shifted to the remaining party members, looking out to see if they needed any help, and if none was required, his attention once more found itself on Amaya, and in the direction which Mizuki had went.

“We need to catch up with Mizuki. The signature awaiting for her was just as strong as yours.”, he admitted, “I do not know if she would be able to handle that alone.” While speaking, the bestial aspect of him would return back to its cage, allowing his more humane side back in control. Cracking fingers, citrine eyes stared down the corridor, “The fight would be difficult for her. We will need to provide some back-up, and possibly take advantage of any opening we are given.”  With the leader being potentially as strong, if not stronger than Amaya, Daremo knew the upcoming battle would not be exactly easy.

Building up a moderate amount of raiton chakra, a replicate of himself would appear to the left of him, “There is a good chance this leader will be well equipped and understand the battlefield better than most. It would be foolish to attack him like head-on.” Daremo did not know what type of individual this S-rank was, only that he managed to attain the rank, which is rare, along with successfully kidnapping genins hopefuls. There is no way a fool could manage such things. Thus, one would need to smartly attack the male, if they hope to survive this mission.

“I will be sending an explosive clone ahead of us, in hopes whoever is waiting for us attack it, if not, at the very least, the clone will be a distraction to either of us to find an opening,” Daremo spoke, following a safe distance behind the clone as it made its way down the corridor where sounds of fighting could be held.


Much like the original, DaremoC was cautious about the surrounding area. There was no way in knowing if the tunnel had been boobytrapped beforehand. Getting close to the main room, the sound of fighting became increasingly louder, citrine eyes locked onto the apparent enemy who was in engaged in fierce combat with Mizuki. Stepping into the room, DaremoC made sure not to draw any attention to himself, and he prepared to attack. Finding an opportune moment to strike, DaremoC channeled a minuscule amount of chakra through Gariantō, the clone whipped it towards Hayate.

The man would not have any chance to react with the sudden attack as Gariantō’s central blade pierce completely through the man’s side. The area of impact started to rapidly show signs of necrosis. The male’s tissue being broken down on a cellular level and becoming unstable as it was disgested by the enzymes within from DaremoC’s chakra. Pulling the blade out of the male, DaremoC did not say anything as he closed the distance on the male, cold, citrine eyes stared down at the dying man as Gariantō was raised.

Daremo walked in just in time to see his clone bringing down the Gariantō, removing the male’s head from the shoulder. Seeing the clone had taken care of the nuisance, Daremo dispelled it, and turned to Amaya, not before looking at Mizuki, making sure she was okay. “Let’s make sure the others have helped the genin.” Daremo mentioned, walking towards the hidden corridor that led to the other room. If needed, Daremo would help with rescuing the other genin, allowing Amaya to tend to the injuries, as he kept watch from any more intruders. Once the injured has been taken care of, his eyes looked at Amaya, “Ready to go?”, if she was ready, he would exit the building with her, leaving the rest for the others to handle.


[exit]

---

2981[5786]

Total Thread Word Count: 19623

S-rank Mission Completed: 5000|5000
Mission Reward: 4k ryo and 10ep(Mission Count as Double due to PC)
Social Reward: +5ep due to surpassing 12,500 words

345 /420:

Clone Jutsus:

Amaya was beyond vigilant when it came to watching not only her own back but the back of her companions. Nothing escaped her notice, no matter how small or insignificant it might have seemed to be. She noticed as the young Chuunin who had followed them from the inn pulled forth a weapon, and she listened as the woman who had placed a weapon to the young Chuunin’s throat just moments ago spoke of sparing no one as it would grant them no favors later on. They were wise words, and ones that Amaya found herself agreeing with. To spare anyone would not do them any good in the long run: it could most certainly come back to bite them all on the asses at a later date - or those they cared for. As they stepped within Amaya kept track of each individuals placement that made up their group, not because she distrusted them - though that could be said for the few she didn’t know well - but because her own fighting style demanded it: there was no point in accidentally causing harm to those who she was working towards a common goal with after all.

Several more individuals were dispatched almost immediately upon entering, their deaths being dealt swiftly at the hands of Mizuki: a kind of practiced ease or so Amaya saw it. It got Amaya’s blood pumping in ways that almost nothing else could these days: there was something about the incoming opponents - stronger than typical bandits or the general lowlives that filled the nearby world - that got her blood flowing and her adrenaline kicking into gear. It had been a long while since she had felt such excitement, since she had felt the urge to truly end the lives of others. Sure, she did her duties for her village well, but this was different: this had a much stronger purpose than just some orders on a scroll. Lives were at stake here, and it raised the bar drastically.

As they entered into another room with several doors leading to it Amaya got a sense of the layout of the interior: something that seemed much larger on the inside than it was on the outside, not including the obvious extensive underground sections it contained, evident by the trap door. ”Looked bigger from outside…”, she would comment softly but sarcastically: an obvious joke as they awaited what was to come next for them.

As Mizuki spoke of how they were expecting them Amaya couldn’t help but feel some pleasure to the truth of that: an enemy taken unaware was hardly fun, and while that might have been the most ideal situation for most, Amaya wanted these particular opponents to know that they had messed up, that they had crossed the line. She wanted them to know that pain, agony, and death would be waiting for them, coming for them. They would greet death by the end of this evening either willingly or kicking and screaming, it mattered little to the female Guanyin. Amaya would open the gateways to Hell for anyone who opposed her, and she would toss them through those gates herself, personally.

Hearing the footsteps coming in their direction, sensing the incoming battle that was looming its head, Amaya made a single S-rank sewing needle that was a foot and a half long and red in color. The needle was a solid construct, and not something to be reckoned with: it’s damage was horrifying and agonizing for those who faced it, and she knew her weapon would taste flesh and blood before the night was out. As Mizuki shifted closer to the Chuunin among them Amaya remained where she was, waiting like the ever patient predator she had honed into becoming throughout the years. There was no twitching, no antsy behavior, just a kind of calmness as she awaited the pain and death of others. Thankfully, Amaya wouldn’t have to wait long…

As their enemies arrived the usual chaos of battle ensued, attacks aimed at Mizuki being thwarted by impressive skills with the katana the woman wielded: Amaya making note that it was interesting to see their companion up close in battle, something she hadn’t necessarily had a chance to witness back in Iwa when they had been rescuing the captured Geisha. Mizuki was not the only one targeted, however, as Daremo too had to deal with an opponent: the skills witnessed speaking that this was more than just some pushover. The bald man he was fighting was able to dodge moves that would have destroyed most others, but it wasn’t that that caught her attention - no, it was the sword which had clipped her husband. For Amaya it was like the world stood still for but an instant as her mind was filled with thoughts of the past.


Kenta never bothered summoning her to his office: even after having become Hokage he had always kept things formal between them: not just because they were best friends but because they were like family. If he needed her he tended to seek her out, not send Anbu to come fetch her - Amaya’s brother, Naota, in this case. No, if he was doing something like this than that meant that something was wrong, terribly wrong.

The newly promoted Jounin was like a blur through the village as she traversed the buildings, the Hokage’s office in sight: her goal, her destination. Dread had already begun to fill her heart no matter how many times she had told herself that perhaps nothing was wrong at all. Maybe Kenta was just too busy to get him herself? Yes, that had to be it. Yet, as she slipped through the window the atmosphere was tense, cold as ice, and there was the scent and sensation of pain within the air. The place was nearly destroyed, as if a great explosion had happened: an explosion of chakra that had come from someone losing control in a moments notice, destroying everything within its path. Stepping lightly upon the ground she made her way to Kenta’s desk as the man pushed himself away to stare at her. The tears in the male’s eyes stunned her, and stopped her in her walk.

“Amaya…. I’m sorry…”

The sense of dread intensified, filling her mind, her body, and her spirit. There was only one thing that could bring tears to Kenta’s own eyes, that could cause him to lose control such as this. There was only one reason that he would be sorry. But no, no it couldn’t be that. It had to be anything but that! “No… don’t…”, Amaya began as she watched the man dressed in the typical Hokage garb rise up from his seat and make his way towards her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry... “

Amaya wasn’t aware of when she began moving, but she found herself backing up, step by step, as if putting distance between herself and Kenta would make this better, would take back what she knew he was going to say.

“I’m sorry, Ashi and Aisling are dead. They were killed in a fire while they were in Kusagakure. The whole village… it was destroyed. There was nothing that we could do.”, Kenta’s words were soft, but he might as well have screamed them, repeatedly within her ear. Dead. Her wife and child were dead. Her beautiful, fun-loving, playful wife with a heart of goal, and her beautiful and precious toddler. They had been killed. Killed by fire. A fire that had destroyed an entire village. Amaya knew even without Kenta speaking the words that this was no accident. This had been an attack, foul play, someone had murdered her family: Kenta’s family.

Shaking her head Amaya backed up further as pain began to seep into her every fiber: pain far greater than any wound that had been inflicted, any torture she had suffered. Agonizing, horrifying. “No. NO!” She didn’t know why but she wanted to hurt him: she wanted to hurt him for telling her this. She wanted to lash out, she needed to lash out. To cause someone pain, to make someone suffer. In that moment she lost all sense of reason. She didn’t care who it was, but they needed to hurt too. This pain, it needed to be shared. Everyone deserves to suffer, everyone deserves to feel the pain that she felt in that moment. With a scream she launched herself at Kenta only for a great and powerful force to slam into and pin her to the wall. Her breath left her being from the sheer force and she felt several ribs crack. Yet, this force hadn’t come from the Hokage himself, but rather Amaya’s own brother: her elder brother Naota, still donning his Anbu garb - yet a male she knew nonetheless. No sooner did her gaze fall upon the male who had forcefully pinned her to the wall did she register a fist headed towards her head. The impact wasn’t felt as unconscious claimed her from the attack…


Snapping back to the present Amaya ducked under an attack that had been aimed for her neck, a sharpened blade glinting in the light. The attack was met with one of her own as her sheer speed gave her the advantage. With her opponent left open Amaya struck out with the red colored senbon-like needle in her hand, striking him straight in the chest and spreading a blackened and disease looking effect even as her attacker dropped to the ground dead. Another attack to her right was blocked with the senbon, the clashing of metal hitting the air as a war of strength waged between herself and her opponent, ended when she sent a kick to her opponents gut, knocking him off balance. Jumping on him before he could regain his composure she struck once more with her choice weapon, hitting him once, twice, and then a third time in the throat before jumping to her feet. It was then that movement caught her attention, an individual attempting to sneak up behind her husband as he finished with his third opponent. Thinking quickly a single hand seal was made, puppet strings: or rather a single string that was immediately attached to the senbon with practiced ease. Sending the senbon out in a clear path it would strike the male attempting to sneak up behind her husband, piercing him right through the ear, and easily passing through bone. As the chakra string became taught she gave it a tug, pulling it free and sending it soaring through the air and back into her hand which she caught easily.

Turning her focus back onto her husband she gave a nod to his words, following him down the trapdoor that Mizuki had disappeared down, ignoring the way that the space they had entered into could easily make someone feel cramped. She listened cautiously as her husband explained what he sensed, including the larger chakra signature that was bigger than the rest - as well as the possible location of one of the missing Genin. As Mizuki disappeared towards the larger chakra signature the urge to follow was strong, and yet there would be no time as the sound of multiple sets of footsteps were heard moving in their direction. In similar fashion as before she regarded the two who made their way towards her without mercy or hesitation, meeting strike with strike, taking advantage of openings her opponents made as Amaya skillfully dodged and ducked attacks that might have fell a lesser skilled individual: metal glistening in the dim light that made it almost impossible for her opponents to track her movements with any kind of accuracy. The end was the same as the previous three upstairs: death in the form of needle holes and decaying flesh: bodies dead before they hit the cold and hard ground of the tunnel, adding to those already laying around. Seeing that her husband had finished with his two opponents as well she would nod once more to his words about Mizuki, ”Agreed.” Watching her husband make a clone which immediately began to make its way before her, she couldn’t help but to grin wickedly at his words: a surprise for sure for anyone who crossed paths with the clone of Daremo, but a befitting punishment considering all that she had seen and heard here already. With the clone making the way, and her red senbon still in hand, she made her way after her husband, keeping a vigilant eye on their sides and back in case anyone tried a sneak attack: tunnels could hide many things after all, and it wouldn’t surprise her for there to be a few hidden rooms that led out into the tunnels - if this was her set up she certainly would have ensured that such existed. In fact, she found herself hoping that that was the case: her blood lust had yet to be sated - the thoughts from the past that had bombarded her mind upon seeing her husband sustain an injury - even a small one - had caused her rage that had been squashed by years of training and beatings to make itself known. It had brought back old habits and older urges: she wanted to hurt people, she wanted to hear them scream. This was more than just a lust for death, she wanted to bring pain to any and all who would dare threaten her husband and friends, who would dare threaten herself. The gates of pain had been unchained, unlocked, and open, and Amaya was welcoming all visitors, yet none would come.

The clone of Daremo ahead of them would dispatch of leader of this little group, leaving nothing more for them to do but to check on the possibly injured Genin. Nodding to her husbands words of being ready, after ensuring all were sound and safe, she would follow after him, leaving the area.

---

2,275 | 5,075

Total Thread Count: 21,898
S-rank Mission Completed: 5000|5000
Mission Reward: 4k ryo and 10ep(Mission Count as Double due to PC)
Social Reward: +5ep due to surpassing 12,500 words

Blades clashed against each other time and again. None of the the Raiu granting a single bit of quarter to the other as skill and endurance were being pitted against each other. The blades whirled as a blur, cleaving through air unopposed in a graceful dance of deadly intent and supernatural ability. Cinders of chakra scattered around, their light diminishing as quickly as it had been brought to life by the power struggle between the two. For a first time since long Mizuki had to give all she had. Drop the mask of kindness. Release chakra and prowess otherwise withheld for diplomatic reasons. Now was not a time to be approachable. Now was a time of unleashing deadly purpose. To let go of the insightful peace the Hermit had grown so fond of, and call forth the Lady of Storms. It was now that years of training and practical expertise would be put to the test. Her father's Arts against that of a powerful man of her own clan. Superior talent against superior physique - her ability to mitigate lightning against the advantage of a body honed to perfection. If Mizuki couldn't win this, what chance would she have against Hastur?

Their skill with the blade was equal, but Hayate would soon find himself on the losing end in this straight-forward duel as Kiyoshi's Heaven Sword Style had been shaped exactly for such duelling purposes. It's unrivalled assault, it's speed in guarding, disarming and riposting. The weapon style sported everything one would generally attribute to the lightning element, and Hayate had to recognise his sword style was lacking in its approach against the relentless assault of the Heaven Sword. Lightning shot across the air. Seiun's chidorigatana crashing brutally against his readied blade. Destroying his beautiful blade with the apathy of the galaxy itself. In that brief advantage, Mizuki aimed to pierce his chest with the raw power of the blade, only to see the man evade the attack in the nick of time and force some distance between them.

"Your father trained you better than I had expected. I'd say you surpassed him at this point. It is clear I'm no match for you in a straight sword duel."
"Keep your flattery to yourself."

He shrugged.

"As you wish. I guess I'll have to change my approach in this fight. Let's see how good you are when we're not fighting in your field of specialisation."

His words were hardly cold when lightning formed in his hand and was instantly released in her direction. The speed at which it travelled was unbelievable, as it seemed to match that of natural lightning itself. But the Hermit had seen and dealt with lightning countless of times within the mountains of Kumogakure and Iwagakure. Dealing with such brutal powers was nothing new, her training shaped to oppose the black raiton of Hastur; the signature power she herself had carried around the world as his Herald. Stretching her hand, she'd allow the lightning to strike her outstretched fingers before it coursed unopposed through her body. It's presence within her was visible as her eyes harboured the glint of raw energy. Moved. Molded. Then returned with equal ferocity as she shifted her position and returned him his gift. The raw power, even mitigated, had not left Mizuki unharmed, yet neither would it leave Hayate unharmed as his own technique crushed his shoulder and crashed into the wall behind him.

A moment of quietude settled.

"You're not the girl I remember. Sweet and sensitive."
"I lost too much and have been through too much. What, did you expect me to bring you a lollipop?"
"No. Not quite. But I had not expected this sort of offence. To think you harbour such destructive intent beneath that kind demeanour of yours. Power, influence. Truly, a dangerous foe if you intent to oppose the Raikage. This is why I have to stop you."
"I'd expect no less from a Raiu."

Hayate would crack his neck and loosen his muscles. He had no weapon left to wield, but he did not require one. He could not use lightning against the Hermit, nor ranton against his own kin, but he still had water chakra at his disposal. And while he held the disadvantage on specialisations, he had yet to reveal how far exactly he could go. How easily he could surpass the girl if he put his mind into it the way she did.

"Behold. Form of Flowing Dimensions"

Chakra would ripple over his form. Recreate a sense of pristine purity. A semblance of being 'beyond' mere mortality. As if his form was no longer within this world, and yet surpassed its finite existence with its seemless apparition. A suiton technique, that much was clear. Its effects would be revealed soon. Ready, his form would shoot forward at a greater speed he had shown before. His form enhanced by the suiton's smoothness. When facing Seiun, his form would bend and move with such fluidity in motion it felt like time itself could no longer grasp his flow. Hayate slipped past Mizuki's countermeasures effortlessly and retaliated in kind with a pressure strike around her shoulder. Her muscle cramping up, her body resisted her urge to avoid what was coming next and granted Hayate what he needed to combo in.

"Cascade of Heavens."

His strikes were light, barely felt through the armour she wore. Yet, the aftermath felt like every strike forced the blood within her veins to part, and the chakra within their paths rippled in discord. Though little was the impact, the inner damage was excruciating to bear as it send body and senses into disarray. Her sight blurred, making it even harder to spot the unusual appearance of his Form. Further increasing his advantage over her.

Biting back the pain, Mizuki closed her eyes and upheld the basics of her father's training. She shifted her feet, drew back the focus on visual sight in favour of her other basic sense and began her retaliation. Several of his palm strikes would be diverted and avoided, but every of his strikes that hit were truly testing her endurance at this point. Every strike resonated like a gong announcing the Gates of Death, until she felt like she stood before its gates.

"Pearl and Blossom".

His words had resounded like a whisper. Clear words despite the turmoil of the battle, as if all sound had momentarily dropped in favour of revealing his little secret. She could feel a crushing strike against her plexus, her body bending over in response as she spit out blood. Then, his palm striking her throat, lifting her from the ground as she weighed no more than an origami bird, before she crashed into the ground.

Life danced before her eyes, light blossoming like a flower despite her robbed sight. Pain throbbed like a copper gong within her head. Her body refused to respond as her strength ebbed away. Was this the end? She could see the figure of her father cross his arms. Her mother smiling warmly. Her sister laughing about a successful prank. She could see the end. A world of peace where she would once again be reunited with those she had lost in life. She had not succeeded... but in her defeat she would find solace.

Rest, at last.

But Life's wild roar decided otherwise. The imagery of peace was violently turn to shreds as massive chakra blew up this surreal dreamscape. Blood, cloth and gore were melting away, the sense of a remotely familiar danger waking her from her weakened state. With trembling limbs, she jumped up, only to fall back down to her knees. And see the puddle of necrosis that used to be Hayate Raiu.

Daremo.

Had he not intervened... Would she truly have been reunited with her family?

---

[EXIT]

1325
Total: 6226
Thread WC: 28'124

-5000 S-rank Mission
1226 remaining

Reward: 4k ryo and 15 EP
5 Base, doubled due to PC, +5 EP for 12,500 words

290/400:

There was great discomfort as he walked with the woman on his arm. The pressure in his head sort of clouded his way of thinking. The young man couldn’t make up his mind if he should pull away or stay locked in step. Tugging away gently, confirmed that she was a lot stronger than she would have thought. There seemed like there was no way to get out of this. He returned Kenmei back into its sheath. It didn’t seem like he would need it. The delusion of truly being able to defend himself faded. It was like he knew that he was outclassed. His equipment was fine, but he didn’t have the fight in him as he did when they first arrived. Any attempt to be braved was covered up almost by fear. His heart started to pound in his chest at the realization of how outclassed he truly was. What had he truly gotten himself into? What truly awaited him passed the rank of chunin? Death was something that he truly accepted in the past, but was this truly the time he would die. The gods of fate seemed to taunt him endlessly on this dark day. First, a woman who looked like she was embodied death now the opposition that stood before them. He Netsugan would be pointless. There was only so much you could do before putting on a facade would no longer work. Though, he would try to hide any fear that emanated from him.

Tomohiro could hear his father’s voice in the back of his head. A scolding voice about how weak he was. The voice was strong and could be heard over the voices of his comrades. The repeating of the voice saying, “pathetic” and “are you truly my son?”. The temptation to turn around became great. His mind became a storm of confusion. Part of him wanted to run while the other part wanted to kill all in his way. Deep down he knew that he wasn’t a coward. The Nakir didn’t run from battle. The Nakir were warriors that paved the way for the next generation. The feeling of death was one thing, but his feelings may have been the feeling of bringing disappointment to his clan’s name. A lot was riding on him now. The proverbial chain was only as strong as its weakest link. Here he was the weakest link. Tomohiro knew that he didn’t want to go down with his hands off of his weapon. How would he explain to his ancestors on the other side that he died trying to run away from a fight. A warrior didn’t just run away from a fight. They stood up for what they believed in. The only thing between him and death would be his blade. Regardless of how he would fall he wanted to make sure that he at least tried to put up a fight.

The weapon he considered his prized possession was drawn again from its sheath. It would be this time like many times before that he would face death face to face. The young Nakir that hailed from Kumogakure no Sato would do his best even if it meant dying. Tomohiro felt a new determination within him. His teeth were grinding against each other as an inner rage rose up from within himself. It was anger that was directed at himself, but he wanted to lash it out on his opposition. Tomohiro sort of felt like he had been caged in for a long time. He purposely didn’t let himself go wild. The containment of keeping a strong mind and appearances seemed detrimental to him. The welling up of rage would need to be suppressed. Shinobi didn’t need to do anything rash. That would be another way to bring oneself into an early grave. Making the wrong move at the wrong time could jeopardize all of the years of hard work he put into becoming a shinobi. It would only take a quick snap of his neck and he was a goner. Tomohiro didn’t want to guess and find out that his current comrades wouldn’t let him die down here. The young chunin obviously didn’t look like he was truly strong. It could have easily been the robes he was wearing. His facial expression could have easily been another. Whatever it was, Tomohiro would have to cast himself aside to save the life of another. Putting your duty above life was a shinobi way could get with.

One would need to take on responsibilities as you increased through the ranks of shinobi. Tomohiro knew that he would be risking his life many times after this event. That was if he survived of course. Tomohiro planned to live his life out and get stronger. He wasn’t sure of how long he would live. The life of a shinobi normally ended in death. He hated to think of Konoha shinobi at a time like this, but even the prominent figures in history didn’t live very long. Jiraiya, Tobirama Senju, and the Gold and Silver Brothers, to name a few, didn’t see very long lives in this field. Tomohiro wanted to set the record straight. He was determined to live as long as he could. This mission was only a stepping stone to greatness. There was much he needed to do. His dream was to make the rank of jounin. He still needed to prove himself. There were still powerful techniques that he had yet to learn. The true potential he possessed had yet to be tapped. This life still had many things to teach him. Given his current state he probably wasn’t in the best position to fight, but it was better than being lost in his fickle emotions.

Tomohiro took the two defensive senbon from Mizuki. It made him feel a bit better at least. If push came to shove, he would also deploy his own barriers to give himself additional protection. The group seemed to be doing quite well for handling the cultist. Tomohiro continued to keep himself out of harm’s way. The last thing he needed to do was get himself killed. Tomohiro attempted to talk his way through everything that was going. There was nothing he could do to help from what he could see. What madness was this that he could do nothing?

The next thing he knew, he saw himself standing inside of one of his clans training rooms. His cousin stood before him. The young boy held a bokken in his hands. He would lift the weapon up and down repeatedly as much as he could. Then the weapon hit the ground as the sting of pain went down his shoulder. The little Nakir fell to the ground. The teenager walked around the boy as he taunted him for his inevitable weakness. How much would an eight year old boy be able to lift. Tomohiro was no prodigy. He wondered why he had to be treated this way. There was a deep dislike for his cousin. He hated each time that his father sent him to train with him. It was always tiring. The bokken seemed to always get heavier and heavier with each session. Tomohiro asked himself why he had to be weak.

The man’s voice echoed in the room. The deep voice was strong and assertive. It made Tomohiro wonder what he did to deserve any of this. All that he wanted to do was fight, was learn how to fight. He didn’t have a choice in none of this. It was what was demanded of him. He preferred his uncle’s methods, but it his father believed that his uncle was making him weak. Tomohiro truly wondered if this was worth even becoming a shinobi over. Regardless if he wanted to become a shinobi or not, the clan would still train him to be a master swordsman. Tomohiro grew to despise his cousin more and more. The rage continued to build as the years passed until the day that the clan put them up against each other with dull weapons. Tomohiro saw it like it was yesterday. He could feel the clashing of weapons. Slash after slash they were seemingly on equal grounds. That was until everything started to get slower for Tomohiro. He was losing stamina. Each block or attempted parry seemed to become like crushing blows. The match continued on like it did. A match that started off equal that started to totally become one sided.

The match almost ended, but it didn’t before Tomohiro made a few last ditch efforts to pull off a victory. Both Nakir knew that they weren’t supposed to be using chakra based techniques during the match. Tomohiro remembered that his cousin was proficient in taijutsu. He figured out that he was using taijutsu to increase the strength behind his blows. Tomohiro become enraged that his cousin that would constantly calm him weak cheated during a basic spar. Tomohiro made an upward strike as slicing through his cousin’s torso. He knew two could play at that game. His cousin would fall to his knees as Tomohiro would lift his sword up in anger as it became ablazed with katon chakra. Before he lifted his weapon to strike again, his father grabbed his wrist. The technique ended as his father let go of his wrist. It was the only time that his father looked somewhat pleased. Him and his cousin still hadn’t decided on who truly won that spar, but neither really talked afterward.

Tomohiro sort of snapped out of the short flashback. It was just in time to see Mizuki go head to head with who he assumed was the Jashinist leader. While watched and listened to their conversation as they fought, he could definitely see the fluidity in their strikes. They were definitely from the same clan. There was no way he was going to do any good against any of them. With how quiet he was, he wouldn’t have been surprised if all of them departed and they forget he was there. Tomohiro didn’t think about what he would do if all of them would have lost. The thought sent shimmers down his spine. Tomohiro didn’t want to get involved if he didn’t have to. His last resort would have been to bring the whole building down on top of them. The techniques he had were highly destructive and wouldn’t have done much good in an enclosed space. Tomohiro definitely needed to put in some major training. Some shinobi he was. He wasn’t sure what shinobi would wait until his whole team got taken down before he would act. There would be no way he could go back to Kumogakure in good conscious knowing he didn’t even bother fighting back.

The Nakir watched as Mizuki fell to the ground. He became enraged as he took a deep breath as he formed hand seals. He knew that it probably wasn’t worth trying. The Raiu were known for their storm release. Suiton would have rendered his whole plan useless. Though, he ended technique as he their opponent fall over. Smoke exhaled through his mouth. That was definitely a close one. Tomohiro wasn’t sure what would have happened if he released that technique with his comrade so close. It was finally over. The villain in this small subplot had been killed off. Tomohiro was relieved as he didn’t want to have to fight against an opponent that was capable of dismantling him by just looking at him. Hopefully, he would get to go back to his room and take a shower. This was just overwhelming. Tomohiro decided that he wouldn’t say anything silence was probably the best thing as this moment. He wasn’t sure of what to say anyway.


[Thread Exit/Mission Complete]

2005/5094
Total Thread WC: 30129

5000/5000 S-Rank Mission Completed
4k ryo mission total
15 EP = 5 (base) + 5(pc) + 5(thread wc)

94 unused wc