kusema ya shetani... speak of the devil

[BLKND]

悪魔の話

The cold had subsided, and the warmth of the sun illuminated the waters cascading across the bridge. The waves were high, which made it simple for anyone crossing this bridge to grow incredibly wet. It was almost relieving to have the splash of warm water sprinkling one’s face. It was a stark contrast from the constant sweat, which collected around Moroku’s head. He sat stone faced, peering out across the lake the water would tickle his back as his now drenched hair would cling to his uncovered torso. He knew nothing more than tranquility, for now. The roaring of the waters would help drown out the white noise that had been present for nearly an hour now. His arms crossed each other at his wrists as his sturdy shoulders leaned over this arched banister. It was constructed so that one could feel as if they were in the water- without the waves sweeping them away. This wasn’t very effective for someone lying on the bridge, however. With the railing being very traditional, there was a considerable amount of space for a grown body to sift through and into the lake. While the bridge did not traverse too far from the shoreline, it was far enough out that if someone was incapable of exerting proper stamina, they would easily never be heard from again; the lake capturing them. The warm of the sun was nice, and the smell of fresh water was something that he hadn’t experienced in quite some time. The south was beautiful this time of year. His gaze had remained on the distance, the place where the sea met the sky. This would be his first time breaking his concentration. It would come in the form of a conversation. Below him was a man, his eyes staring blankly into the sky, shifting, as he would notice Moroku’s attention once more falling upon him.

“It’s sad… that you can’t witness this.” He would say calmly, his deep and somewhat soothing voice easily overpowering the sound of the water crashing against the wood that composed this bridge.

His head would turn once more, this time to view the rest of the bridge. It had seen better days. The majority of it had been reduced to mere ruins. Within these ruins lay the bodies of what seemed like countless men. If he took the time to go through and count, he would find a total of ninety-three men. Most of them were still alive, some having lost most mobility; others had perished from either the jaws of the current or the crushing of their vital bones and organs. Moroku himself had sustained a considerable amount of injury, however he had been healed both during and after his battle. He would smirk as he turned down to look at the man once again. He had finally been capable of saying something.

“You tricked us…”

“No… I did not trick you. It was your ‘honor’ that tricked you, Udo-san.” The giant would muse, shifting his weight from the banister to his feet.

He would stand erect, looking down at the older man with what could only be construed as pity.

[BLKND]

“It was clear to me from the moment I saw you bustling through that forest that this would be the outcome. You had full intention of claiming my head- I could see it in your eyes. You men, you don’t really know what real power is, and that is why you cling to the idea that killing those that wrong you will help you sustain your ‘power.’ You’re wrong. Power is-“

“Power is what you make of it.” A voice from behind would muse in.

She was a vibrant figure, matching well with the image around them. The islands, while not tropical, made this place appear much more festive than the typical setting that this lot was accustomed to. A dark haired, dark skinned woman would approach them. Behind her appearing to be a man of lesser stature, his eyes covered by his hachigane. He was, somehow, capable of maneuvering through the lot of wounded bodies, however. Her hair had been tied into a low ponytail, giving her a conservative look, but her lips, hips and makeup all seemed to give her the image of a woman rather liberal with her body. Her face was aged, and she appeared to be the oldest of the group by far- probably their leader. She wore an outfit similar to both of the men she was with only differing in that, unlike Moroku, she wore a shirt. It was a simple black t-shirt that seemed to cut off directly below her elbows. Her partner wore something almost identical however hidden behind a draping black poncho, it was difficult to tell. Her steps were careful, avoiding various cracks in the bridge that had been caused by either her partner or one of their enemies. She would stop directly above the man whom Moroku had been speaking to, and looked down at him with inquisitive eyes.

“Power is simply… what you make of it.” She would repeat herself, continuing her gaze.

“So this is the one?” The blonde man would say, his raspy voice fighting to overpower the waves that would beat against both him and the bridge in which they stood.

“You didn’t appear to make much out of your power at all.”

“Yes, this is he. I left the majority of them alive- after all, they only wanted one.” Moroku would say to the blonde, taking a step away from the black-haired woman, and back to his original position on the banister.
The blonde man would follow him, assuming the same position, as if he could somehow see past his headband and out into the lake to enjoy the view.

“How are you holding up? I’ve been worried about you ever since your wife died.” He would say without hesitation.

[BLKND]

Moroku’s muscles would tense, and his fist would curl, looking to his left he would see the man’s blank face. This was typical behavior- he never once beat around the bush. Then again, having the ability to read the minds of others, there was no real reason to. Moroku’s muscles would relax, as he would think about what to say. His eyes would find the water beneath them all, and he couldn’t catch his reflection. Another soft wave would hit them all.

“This water is really starting to bug me…” The dark haired woman would say.

“It hasn’t been easy.” Moroku would mutter almost to himself.

The blonde didn’t respond, and simply put his arm up onto the shoulder of the massive man that stood next to him. He would almost have to reach directly into the air in order to do so. Neither of the men would acknowledge whatever emotion they were both feeling, so as the blonde would remove his hand, he would walk over to the man who continued to writhe in pain beneath them all. The water would flow into his mouth every once and a while, and a violent cough would emit- only for him to finally catch his breath.

“I agree with Asuka- let’s take this fellow and be on our way.” The blonde would say as he took the man by his wrist; dragging him lazily against the bridge as they would head back the way that they had come, and towards the mainland.

[BLKND]

After about an hour of travel, and a considerable amount of complaining from their captive, the blonde man had transitioned his duties to the most capable of them all. Moroku would tower over his team, carrying the older man with almost no effort. By then his back had been shredded by the various stones, sticks and jagged edges that would cover the ground in an area such as this. The trees created a myriad of lights above them, and the sun shone in a bright white through the leaves. The air had once again grown cold, and their bodies would no doubt notice it. Being the only one dressed appropriately, the blonde had once more covered his head with the hood of his poncho, his arms having disappeared behind the mess of coated canvas that covered his torso and upper legs. Moroku had slung the man over his shoulder, his bound arms and legs making him little threat, especially considering that they had all been broken, a precaution taken by the woman just in case the had even more reinforcements arrive to attempt to rescue him. Their mission was only just beginning. Having aroused the curiosity of the Momo Sect, they had taken what they understood to be one of the few pivotal members in this part of the country. Having eliminated one of the few squadrons stationed around him, and leaving the majority of them alive, it would only leave room for them to pursue them. For that reason they couldn’t be too stealthy- for they wanted to be followed. On the other hand, they didn’t want to be found too fast. They had been given a decent head start, Moroku’s battle lust having taken its toll on the men who came to face him. After having gathered this member, they would release him in the arms of one of the rival PMG’s in the area, who would eventually be dismantled by the forces of the Sect, obviously under the guidance that these ninja were under contract to do so. This was far from the case. However, given the relationship of the two organizations, this PMG, the true objective in their mission would be under scrutiny, and then attack by a much more vicious adversary- leaving no ties to Kumogakure’s client- the Moon Country Daimyo. It was a top-secret mission to say the least, and given their client, it held significant capabilities for future missions. The Moon Country had always been set at odds against its own version of a ninja village, the PMC EDEN that contracted heavily to the country’s government. However, just recently there had been an obvious outward display of defiance from EDEN, using its leverage as the country’s main military power to begin contracting work from opposing countries- specifically against others from Moon Country. It was despicable, but it was business. For obvious reasons no one had asserted to assist the lot. It was only until a recent meeting with one of Kumogakure’s Gashira was it decided that something needed to be done, and that something would be at the hands of Cloud. They would send their best team in to end EDEN’s term. If that was successful, they would then discuss the possibilities of installing a training program in to teach the country’s military the basics of ninjutsu. It was a risky venture, but it held a mass amount of profit- something that Kumogakure needed. It was Heihachi’s objective, and during his very short term as Raikage, he at least attempted to pursue more profitable contracts.

[BLKND]

“So you all are ninja, eh?” The man would say to no one in particular, probably in an attempt to settle his heart rate; it had been beating pretty rapidly since his capture.

He received no response.

“I thought about being a ninja once… traveling to Kirigakure with my brother so that we could take care of our parents. Hehe, then I had my son- then my daughter. My brother moved to Kiri… even became a ninja after a bit. Last time I heard from him was two years back. Do you all know many Kiri ninja?” He would request some sort of human interaction, and would receive little, if any.

The most stoic of them all, the blonde, didn’t even propose a smidgen of interest, whereas the dark haired woman would in fact be the only one interested in conversing. After all, her partners hardly ever spoke; it was a nice change to have a conversation with someone that didn’t have to do with work.

“I’ve been to Kiri many times- I’ve killed Kiri-nin many times.” She would say with saddened expression, although not directing it at anyone in particular. “Your brother might have been one of them.” She shook her head in disappointment.

There was a long silence. The sound of feet crunching against the hardened path was amplified by it.
“Then again, the majority of them were during the war. I can’t say I’ve done that many in as of late- especially any that resemble you.” She would finish, understanding the gravity of her words to a man that had been placed in a position such as his.

“We’re nearing our first checkpoint. We have three men in pursuit; a scout team from Momo.” The blonde would say, stopping in his tracks, as he would turn to his left. “Their chakra isn’t half bad- I would say at least Chuunin level. Probably defects of one of the smaller villages.” He would finish with an inquisitive voice. His head would turn to Moroku as he would take hold of his poncho’s collar, taking the zipper and raising it to his neck, then to his head. “We’ll run a route. Continue with the package towards the rendezvous point. Stay in the dark- EDEN probably has surveillance this close to their outpost.”

Moroku would nod and begin to pick up his pace from a long paced stroll, to an all out sprint. The man on his shoulder would begin to bob up and down, raising his head as he would look up, looking for a chance to catch a glimpse of the woman who spoke to him. He only managed to see her feet as she took a few steps closer to her partner.

“They have a sensor as well.” The hooded man would say, his hands slowly sliding into his poncho. “They’ve split up in pursuit of the cargo. Only one is headed this way.”

“Then you should follow Moroku- I’ll handle this one.”

She appeared to be around the age of thirty-five, and yet her stature, posture and mannerisms made her appear that much older. She carried herself like a seventy-year-old woman. Shuffling closer to the center of the small clearing in which they had found themselves, her blonde partner would vanish in a blur, leaving her alone hunched over and smiling. Nara Asuka, what a beautiful woman.

[BLKND]

“What do you mean, divorce?” She would shout, her perfectly manicured hand slamming against the kitchen table.

It was a soft cherry wood, and the recoil from her wedding ring would burn against her bone. She ignored it. She couldn’t bother flinching in the eyes of her adversary; her husband. He was a tall man. Attractive, and lean, he stood in the threshold between the kitchen and the dining table. It was a modern home, the kind of home that men and women without children lived in. The kind of home that had a nice art appeal, and had plenty of room for dinner guests. Now it was absent.

“I’m tired of all of this,” he began as he ran his hand through his short, peppery hair. “You’re never here; you envelope yourself in work; I can’t even remember the last time we spoke about children… what- three years ago? We’re still young- we still have time to find other pe-“

“No. You don’t make decisions like that. This is why we are married Ken. We make decisions together, and we don’t do it any other way. If you had told me ten years ago before I said ‘yes,’ that you didn’t want me to be successful, then I never would have said it!”

He would continue to speak in a modest, almost timid tone. His body however, would show that he was not suppressed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Of course I want you to be successful, but in your line of work, I have no guarantee that I’ll ever see you the next day,” His index finger and thumb would begin to caress the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes- obviously weary. “I want to spend my life with you- but I can’t put myself through the stress of not knowing if I can. It’s time I took control of my life.”

“Heh, just like you. You always have to be the one in control. You always have to know everything; test everything; make sure everything works. Is that what you’re doing to me right now? After all that we’ve been through, you’re just going to throw it away?”

“If that’s what it takes for me to be happy- yes. We have nothing binding us, largely in thanks to you. You make enough money, and you come from a well off family; I have options to increase my company’s output in Hi no Kuni. This is the right step for my life- I feel it in my heart. I hope that you can feel that one day yourself.”

No. I can’t see anything but the shadow of your heart… Ken.

It had been three hours since he had left. He stormed out of the door after having given her a face that she had never seen before. It was a face that she could only assume was pain- she had a vicious tongue when she grew upset. She hardly remembered what she had said to him, something about their fidelity, maybe she had told him a lie, or accused him of the same. She couldn’t recall. The table rested beneath her open hand as she swirled around a tall glass of pinot noir. There was a record playing in the background; she didn’t pay attention to which it might have been, despite this being the seventh time it had played since she had arrived home this evening. It played all throughout the time that they had spoken, and had actually greeted her as she walked in to their two-bedroom apartment. He was sitting exactly where she was sitting now; doing the exact same thing- only his wine was white. He had just finished dinner. A plate sat in front of him, and on the opposite side of the table. Despite the meal having called for white, a seared salmon with wild rice and kale, he poured her a red. She loved red wine. She raised her glass to her lips, and thought about how things unfolded from there. How he seemed distant, and how she pegged him about it. Only now did she consider that he was upset. He had made himself available to be penciled in to her schedule. Once the date was set, they found a time that worked. After they made their plans, he turned down all of the offers from his friends to go drinking. After he made his plans known to his friends, he left work early, having been at the office only part of the day so that he could make sure he had enough time to prepare the course. When leaving the office he went to one of his favorite grocery stores in their neighborhood, Crystal Apples, and purchased all of what sat before him, fresh. Spending no more than fifteen minutes inside of the store, he hurried home, put the record on and began to prepare the intimate dinner. In the midst of the culinary excursion, he lit a few candles, placed a single crimson rose into a vase onto the table, and went on about his business. He didn’t trim the thorns. It had been two hours and thirty-seven minutes after their expected time to eat had arrived. She showed up a minute later.

He greeted her with a smile that truly did nothing to hide what he felt. He began to clean up his plate, having already done the dishes within the first hour of her tardiness, and told her that he was feeling tired. She didn’t believe him. She asked him if anything was wrong, first mistake. He denied it. She pressed on; second mistake. It was her third and final mistake that caused him to blurt out what he had been thinking for the passed hour and a half.

“You don’t seem happy…” she told him with a voice of concern, both caring and cursory.

The music was just starting to make sense to her. It was the song that she had first requested to play at their wedding. He had vetoed it for a more traditional tune that everyone could sing along to. She agreed to the suggestion without a second thought. The name of the song was ‘Butterfly,’ by an older blues musician. It had never received that many radio accolades, but was a cult classic to those here in Kaminari, well, those in tuned enough to recognize it. The artist was then a young woman, singing about the societal woes of finding a man in a country so vast. She made constant references to the cities that they all knew- and the teenagers of the time ate it up. She now hated this song. She now hated butterflies.

[BLKND]

The trees in this portion of the country were nothing of any complication. The only real issue that this forest possessed was the thick brush that would whip against Moroku’s thick case of muscle. His cargo had lost feeling in his legs, and so as the whipping would tear against the back of his calves, he would not protest. He knew something was happening, but had seemed almost apathetic at this point. He was running blind at this point. He knew the rendezvous point was to the southeast, so that was where he was headed. His partner, Asano was their navigator. He was simply the medic, as well as the most physically powerful, giving him the capability to travel the furthest and fastest with the cargo in mind. He wasn’t fast enough however. Tossing his cargo to the ground in a hasty manner, his fists would raise into the air, as he would feel the shadow of an adversary come washing over his bare skin. Soon, that shadow would bear teeth. His hand would reach for his baton- hidden on the outside of his right leg, while his left hand would extend to prevent himself from being hit in the face by what appeared to be a blunt sword. It was far from it.
The blade would come through the air; Moroku’s reach assisting in him grabbing the wrist of his assailant, as he would fight to move his body out of the way. It was a simple attempt. Being the height that Moroku was, it was easy to see oncoming attacks, especially when directed towards his head. The blade would hit the ground, and instantly be retracted back into the assailant’s comfort zone. Rising towards the air, he would come in for a secondary swing, this time from the ground up. By this time however, Moroku had acquisitioned his baton, his fist plummeting towards the chest of the assailant, who would soon find themselves careening across the forest floor, their back instantly crashing into one of the many, massive trees which populated this place. They were thin, nowhere near as massive as those found in Konoha, but still fairly tall. The pressure of the body would cause a massive ‘crack,’ in the unlucky foliage, though not enough to knock it down. Moroku would look at his downed opponent, who would struggle to stand- obviously still conscious, whatever breastplate they had decided to wear to this battle had saved their life. A masked figure, with glowing red eyes, and skintight battle armor, save the torso, would emerge through the thick grass that would come past Moroku’s knees in this area. Littered with dead leaves falling from their armor, they would finally regain their composure- dropping their sword to use both hands and pull off the now dented armor.

“You pack quite a punch.” The metallic voice of the man would say, heaving heavily from the wind he still battled to obtain.

The mask appeared to be that of a respiratory device- perhaps a gas mask- perhaps no. The breastplate seemed to be made of metal, which opposed the rest of the outfit, which appeared to be composted primarily of Kevlar. They had anticipated coming in to contact with him. They had learned.

[BLKND]

“You don’t look like an average member. Is this Momo’s attempt to adopt shinobi? Where do you hail from?” Moroku would say inquisitively, his wrist flicking to his side as a massive, pointed baton would strike out at his side.

“You’re right, I am ninja. Where I’m from doesn’t matter- what matters more so is where I’m headed. I understand you’re taking this man, my brother, to an EDEN outpost?”

Moroku didn’t respond.

“Well it’s no secret, we’re deep in their territory now. I suspect that if I don’t acquisition the package in about five minutes, it’ll be too late to escape… which means.” His head would turn to the downed body, laying the bush.

There was a slight breeze that would rustle the grass surrounding them, and the sound of the forest would make perfect sense for what he was attempting to portray. He intended to kill this man, his own brother.
“I can’t let you do that.” He would say coldly, his foot raising to place itself on top of the older man’s bruised, and mangled body.

“Well I never thought I’d have to fight my own kind again. I don’t think I’ve killed a ninja since the war. I was a Chuunin of Kiri back before I joined Momo… yourself?” The man would say as he reached down to retrieve his sword.

“A Jounin of Konoha.” He would respond simply, his opposite hand reaching into one of his many utility compartments before removing a small cylinder.

It was well known that Konoha had retained itself quite well throughout the years. Whenever the name was spoken to another ninja, it made them realize that they were not in a situation that they should be. Not the same could be said about Kumogakure- not anymore. This shinobi did not seem to be effected however; perhaps he could tell it was a lie. Perhaps he simply had forgotten the intricacies of the shinobi world and the reputation of the villages. Perhaps he just didn’t care where he was from at all. He didn’t respond, and it was only then that Moroku would notice what he had neglected to notice all along. Finally taking his gaze off of the lone ninja, he would look around him to find the subtle makings of an ambush. The small squadron of men dressed identically to this armored man lined the branches of this clearing. Their bodies, melded into the very trees that composed this forest, hidden by the blinding white light of the sun. The glared down at him with blood red eyes, clearly the use of thermal technology. These men were more ninja hunters than ninja themselves. His grip tightened around the hilt of his baton, and his brow would curl into a frown more and more with each body spotted. His gaze eventually fell to the man whom he knew he had to protect. With so many of them, and no real way to preserve him- he had begun to fear for the success of this mission. This wasn’t going to be the same as the bridge. There he knew what he was dealing with, a bunch of moderately trained swords for hire with no idea of how to deal with a man of his stature. He also had no handicap. This was the complete opposite. Right now he stood in front of an immovable wall that he would no doubt have to move with an unstoppable force.

[BLKND]

The first blow came from his front. The rectangular katana would come hurdling towards him with a pinpoint accuracy, but a mediocre speed. His movements were quick, and within an instant he would have outmaneuvered the katana and had been on his way towards his opposition, who had already removed another blade in preparation. The second flew just as true, but would be instantly deflected by the harsh allow composing Moroku’s baton. The blade would fly backwards, and within almost no time he would be face to face with the armored man once more. However, it had become dangerously obvious that he had stepped in to a trap at the same time. Instantly he would be surrounded by a swarming octet of masked men and women. Their blades had been revealed, and came at Moroku in a downward stabbing motion. The blades would hit- hard. Each tip, despite being edged, easily piercing through their target with the utmost efficiency. Their weight would push the giant down beneath the tall grass, the lot of them remaining until they would tug their swords from the evident cadaver.

“It’s a fake!” The initial man would say menacingly, as he would search viciously around the forest with his eyes.

There had been no blood, and as the massive body would evaporate into a puff a smoke, the assortment of logs in which he had been replaced with became evident. By the time that the first two set of eyes would locate the flailing white hair that trailed from the giant’s back. His tussled fake hair would crash against his dark skin, and he would soon find himself in the same position that they had once been. Finding the leader had been simple, and as he descended the tree at a ridiculous speed, it would take an instant for everyone to realize what had happened. By then of course, it had been too late. The powerful grip of the monstrous man had tightened, and his fist would come hurdling down into the midst of the group. He would be the first victim. His body came crashing into the ground, making it appear as though he has molded in to it. The force would carry strong, the lot of the remaining ninja being tossed into the air by the sheer magnitude of the blow. The earth would come undone, and the already injured tree behind them would make its way forward, and shift the light of the forest into something that it was not. The branches would toss toward into the branches of the trees around it, forcing the majority of the still watching ninja to vacate to safer ground- real ground. As the tree would careen around him, falling heavy behind his back, he would stay focused on just how many enemies he would be facing. The eight would multiply to twelve within an instant. In the background he could count around thirteen- no fourteen more. Two of them had landed not too far away from where he had begun- next to the package. His eyes would trace the battlefield, and eventually land on the two who had begun to shuffle around the body. They would take the package by the belly, lifting his body from the earth, only to realize how poorly they had been trained. A bright white ball lay before them- before white was all they could see. The ‘pop’ of the flash would dumb them as well as they fell to the ground, unsure of what was really happening. It would shock others as well; many of them turning their heads only after feeling the right light shock their peripherals. It was then that Moroku struck.

[BLKND]

His body leapt forward, easily knocking several of the unsuspecting, and inattentive ninja to the side. Having been only a few meters away, his hearing had been impaired as well, but having seen the entire action, he had enough sense to not only close his eyes, but to turn away when he did it. It was chance that they all happened to be wearing UV goggles as well, something that flash bombs seemed to be the perfect remedy for. Before they had any idea what might have happened, he had seized the cargo and bolted for the back of the bush. Those affected less by the bang did not hesitate in their pursuit. With their goggles ruined, the masks came flying from most of their heads- if they had any sense to do so. The twenty-two that he once faced had now been reduced to a steady seven, that seemed to move just as fast as he did. He refused to look back, knowing the hindrance to his speed. The man had fallen unconscious, either due to the pain or the bang erupting in his face. That made things a little easier. The forest was growing more and more narrow, and the tall grass had begun to grow brittle, until it was nothing more than a matte covered by a bushel of dead leaves. The twigs snapping beneath his feet did not bother him, they could clearly see him- his massive white mane cutting through the bleak coloring of the forest as though a beacon for them to catch him. He considered dropping another distraction, but with a lot of reinforcements somewhere behind these men, he knew that it would be too risky. They wanted the cargo alive, but it wasn’t necessary- and without their leader they would soon grow tired of pursuit and resort to accomplishing the mission as easily as possible. The first time he heard a kunai hit a passing tree is when he realized that soon had grown to now. His feet picked up and he launched himself onto a nearby tree, pushing off of it to gain the momentum to land atop a massive branch that floated over the forest floor. They were in hot pursuit. Leaping from their respective trees they ensured that they would not lose sight of the behemoth, which by now had been ascending the treetops as though they were a ladder, or staircase to his liberation. His hands reached in to one of his many pockets before tossing back a small blue cylinder. It would smash from branch to branch before an instant ‘pop’ would thrust a massive array of smoke all throughout the area. While he couldn’t see it himself, he could hear the rather rough coughing, and the thought of having lost at least a fraction of his pursuers made him a bit more comfortable.

He had been lost ever since he separated from his teammates, but having attempted to escape had only pushed him further into his position. Landing heartily against one of the more expansive branches, he would take a look around this bitter forest top. It was much larger than he had expected, the branches easily being capable of housing a small camp. The moss slid beneath his boots, and as he turned to face his enemies, he would find that their numbers had been reduced drastically. Where there were once twenty-two enemies, now stood four. Their eyes burned from the smoke cast upon them, but their hearts did not stop.

“I can admire your persistence… you all would do just fine in my village.” He would say with gaps in his speech, catching his breath after his short sprint.

[BLKND]

Before him stood three men and a woman, all with their swords drawn, and all enclosing them towards him- hoping to cut off any other exists or attempts to escape. He stared at each of them; testing them with his oddly colored eyes. His face was solemn, and growing more serious by the second. He dropped his cargo onto the branch below, and received no response. Taking a large step over him, he stood defiantly against the four, who had now spread out a significant amount. They knew what they were doing, and before long they had flanked him effectively. The lingering breeze didn’t seem to stop at these heights. Lowering himself for battle, he began to strategize. He had few options, and none of them allowed him to effectively transport the cargo. He gripped his hands into fists out of frustration, and knew that it would only be a matter of time before their reinforcements arrived. That’s when they advanced. It was like a pack of wolves onto a wounded fawn. Their chops were salivating, and their eyes wide and wild. A powerful thrust lunged forward, and pierced through skin, blood splattered and a waiting hand muffled a shocking yelp. There was no way that they could have stopped it. First her katana ruined the innards of her teammate, as she expressed such an honestly apathetic expression. Before her teammates could react, her blade had already sliced their necks away, leaving them no room to make much noise other than their dead bodies falling against the branch in which they stood. By the time that the last body had fallen, Moroku’s grip was already tight around her head. His massive hands knocked away her blade, instantly her fingers would tear away at his wrist. It was no use. From the shadows of the branches surrounding them, the sun would neglect to introduce a familiar face to the giant. The masked, and hooded man would emerge mere meters from scene, his hands still hidden behind the confines of his poncho.

“Asuka?” He would inquire, the woman beginning to kick her legs violently as he raised her from the ground.
The sounds of her cries were whimpers, and she said nothing as she waited to hear the sound of her skull to crack under the weight of his grasp.

“I left her to dispatch the force that inevitably ended up finding you. They did quite well to hide their chakra; I’m not sure where they would have learned a trick like that. Either way, I have informed her of our location. She will be joining us shortly.” His tactful voice was always soothing, even if someone pretentious. “You’re going to kill her if you press any harder.” He would say casually, staring at the ordeal in front of him.
Moroku’s grip did not deter.

“I would like to question her- if you don’t mind.”

[BLKND]

Moroku’s gaze fixated on this woman, writing in pain. Her skintight body suit revealed a shockingly well-kept figure. The battle suit in which she wore was heavy, proving just how powerful she herself was for being able to maneuver so freely in it. However, it was evident that no matter how strong she was, she was no match for his might. Tightly bound brown hair revealed her massive green eyes. She might have been beautiful to some, but to him she was just another obstacle, waiting her turn to be eliminated. He thrust her to the ground, where she would continue to flinch, her hands instantly grasping her cranium, as her slightly tanned face had become a bright red where his grip had been.

“I had control of the situation.“ He would say, turning his back to the girl to head back to the cargo.
“Control is a very liberal term form what you had. I did trust that you were capable of handling it alone, however. It’s just that, like you, I don’t mind helping people I’m working with.” He would say almost gleefully as he made his way towards his own cargo.
His gloved fingertips would emerge from the slits on the sides of his poncho to take hold of her chin. Leaning over her he would gaze through the odd mesh net that composed the front of his hood. She gazed back at him as much as she could, but it hurt her to open her eyes. He hadn’t shaken her or hit her in any way, but the pressure had grown to the point that he might have at least cracked a piece of her skull. She felt as though his hand was still present.

“I’m- going- AH!” She screamed, frustrated that everything hurt so badly.

Moroku barely glanced at her before plopping himself down next to the cargo, his legs folding as he would place his hand over his right knee, leaning forward to observe what would happen next.
“Now, now,” The blonde would begin, taking a tighter hold of her chin to remind her of his presence. “Your squadron is all gone by now. I believe maybe one or two survive- and they are in no state to rescue you. My teammate was correct in his want to kill you- you serve very little purpose to us as you are. However, I would like you alive for one thing, and one thing only.

She settled down, intent to hear what it was that kept her alive.

“I think by now you can cut your charade,” she didn’t respond, finally having the chance to open her eyes for more than a few seconds. “I want you to tell me everything you know about your employer… Tell me about EDEN.”



continued here

[KEITH]

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