The Snake Courier [M]

[Mamushi]

SPOILER: Click to show

{Spoiler}Courier - Paperwork
Rank: D
Description: There is an endless amount of paperwork necessary to allow for the operation of a Hidden Ninja village and our great Konohagakure is no exception to this. We need someone to fetch documents from several local establishments to bring to the Hokage Complex for processing. Make sure that each establishment gives the correct forms signed, sealed, and dated.
Restrictions: No limitation
Rewards: 25 EXP, 500 RYO

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        Mamushi balanced on the slate-tiled roof, bare toes gripping the eaves. The sun winked down at her, wreathed in white clouds, its heat swept away by a brisk, northerly wind. Pigeons wheeled beneath the brume, fluttering from sky to roof to street, snatching up crumbs and tossed bird seed. Mamushi’s stomach grumbled; a pigeon would be nice right about now. Or a kitten.

         She saw storm clouds gathering in the far north, heard a rumble low and distant. It’ll rain soon, she thought. Mamushi loved the rain.

        Konohagakure bustled below, the dirt-paved streets choked with merchants and venders and stalls, and there, milling about in the shadow of the onsen, were the pot-bellied men who owned the venders and stalls, laughing and back-slapping like happy rich men were wont to do. One stood apart from the others, a butterball of a man in a tangerine kimono that probably cost more than her yearly salary. He had several scrolls tucked under his arm, anxiously glancing back and forth as if waiting for something.

        Mamushi like upsetting people, even something so small as making them wait. She grinned, thin lips spread wide. Her mother, shinigami rest her soul, had always said her smile was a thing of demons. The Kage Hebi blood was strong in her; her tongue snaked out, tasted the air, and with a single ram seal, the pink appendage shifted into a fanged viper that lovingly nuzzled her cheek. She felt more than heard the ninja arrive behind her. A chuunin, she reckoned, by the lightness in his step and the taste of his chakra.

        “Freaky snake bitch,” he grumbled.

        She twisted her head around to face him, her neck impossibly flexible. “Kentaro-chan! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Her voice was sickly sweet, but her eyes were as sharp as the ninjato sheathed at her side. If she could have gotten away with plunging it into his throat, she would have. But it was against the rules to murder your fellow ninja, especially if they weren’t traitors. Hokage-sama would be wroth with her if she killed one of his ninja.

    Kentaro scowled. He was shorter than her, but stocky, and was a fair hand at Katon jutsu. He was nothing special though. Just another thirty-year old chuunin. “Another mission,” he ground out, thrusting a scroll out at her, “for when you’ve finished playing messenger.”

        She accepted the scroll with her snakey tongue, delighting in the shiver of revulsion that raced through him. “Arigatō, Kentaro-chan!” She slipped the mission scroll into her pouch and dived off the roof. The fat merchant lord was starting to get impatient.

[Mamushi]

        She landed with nary a sound, sinking down to a crouch before she popped up. The wind swept her sandy-blond hair up and away from her face. “Merchant-san!”

        The fat merchant lord spun about with a soft cry, dropping his scrolls to the ground. He had close-set eyes, three chins, and a pleasantly plump face. She could smell the lavender in the sachets sown into the sleeves of his kimono. “Genin-san!” he exclaimed, heavy jowls trembling. “You startled me.”

        Her arms lengthened to scoop up the scrolls, and her snake tattoos seemed to slither against her skin. The fat man paled, green in the gills. “My apologies, Merchant-san. Are these all the documents?” She smiled her wicked smile, fangs glinting, and he paled further.

        “Wh-what?” Her nature had thrown him for a loop. He rubbed his big belly and gulped, sweat trickling down his bald head.

        “The documents,” she repeated, smile spreading wider. “Are these all of them?”

        His eyes flickered down to her unnaturally long arms, her spindly fingers like snakes themselves, wiggling in the wind. “Ah, yes, yes, those are all t-the documents.” He gulped again, fat face curling into a grimace.

        She swallowed a laugh, tucked the documents in her pouch along with the other mission scroll, and winked. “Good,” she said, nodding. She felt eyes on her, and turned her head to stare at the throng of merchant lords. They were as pale and green as the one that stood before her. “Have a nice time in the onsen! Beware of vermin; I’ve heard rumors that this one has rats. I could get a snake to clear the place out if you–”

        “No!” He shouted, shaking his hands in front of him. “No, please, thank you. This… this is all.”

        "Is everything up to par? Are they all sign, dated, and sealed?"

        He nodded frantically, jaws jumping, beady eyes wide. "I did it myself just before I came here. My secretary looked over everything. Please, Genin-san, I don't want to hold you up from your tasks.

        "Alright, Merchant-san. I believe you. But if any of this is wrong, I'll have to come find youuuuu!" she sang. A pigeon fluttered down to her feet; she snatched it up with her tongue snake, swallowing the fat fowl whole. Somewhere off to the side, she heard retching.

        And then she was off to collect the next set of messages.

[Mamushi]

        Mamushi took to the roof tops, feet pattering against slate tiles. Most buildings in Konohagakure sported hip-and-gable style roofing, the most prominent of which was the castle at the center of the village. The Hokage’s Castle. It was Konoha’s heart, the tracery of dirt-packed roads and streets and back-alley wynds its veins, the people traversing the veins its blood.

        She leaped across a twenty foot gap without breaking stride, wind streaming her hair, caressing her skin. Running was fun. She could almost imagine she was hunting ninja, chasing down foreign interlopers for assassination. One day, she vowed, she would be ANBU, and that would be her true job. But for now, she was only a genin, and her job was to collect messages for the Hokage to peruse. Paperwork was ever the bane of bureaucracy.

        Her next stop was a blacksmith down Steel Alley. Smoke billowed from the forge, thick and gray. She could taste the flames in the air, and burning iron. If she listened closely, she could hear the ringing clang of a hammer striking an anvil. She’d bought her ninjato from the armorer she was sprinting to visit, and her kris too. She suspected, though, that it had been his wife, Maya, who made both items. Kitsudo-san tended to make armor – fine armor, affordable by jounin only, or extremely rich chuunin. His wares were renowned throughout the city.

        Rumor was that he’d been a samurai at one point, and Mamushi could believe them. When he’d sold her the ninjato, she remembered him holding it almost reverently, as if it were a child instead of a sword. His regard for the steel had transferred over to herself. No matter if she’d used it or not, she sharpened and oiled it every night.

        She dove off the eave that leaned over the lip of the wall and landed in front of the shop’s door. The bell above it chimed as she pushed her way in. “Kitsudo-san?” she called out. “It’s Natsumi. I’ve come to collect documents for the Hokage?”

        Maya's warm tones answered her from the rear of the shop, past the weapon's displays and racks of armor. “Back here, Natsumi-chan!”

        She followed the voice to a storeroom set catty-corner from the door, all wrought of fire charred stone. The walls bristled with steel. Swords, knives, daggers, throwing stars – she saw a mace with a jeweled hilt, and a shuriken as big around as she was tall. “Maya-san?” Her tongue darted out, tasted the air. Charcoal, iron, and sake.

        “Over here, dear.” Maya-san was sitting in an alcove, polishing a massive nodachi. Kuroda Maya was a short, fleshy woman, with powerful thighs and thick shoulders. Her face was broad and tanned, but she had a nice smile, and was perhaps one of Mamushi’s most favorite people. Maya-san wasn’t bothered by her nature at all.

        “I’ve come for your messages,” Mamushi said again.

        Maya's broad face curled in a frown. “Not a social call, then. I’ve missed you, dear, since you started doing mission. How goes your training?”

        Mamushi grinned, but there was nothing malicious in her expression – only joy. “I can turn my arm into twelve snakes, now! That’s twice as many as I could do before. I still haven’t learned how to create the poisons though… but I can move real quiet-like. Even ANBU can’t hear me!”

        Maya sighed. “You’ll be chuunin before long, and then I’ll never see you.”

        “Yes you will,” Mamushi protested. “A ninja always needs weapons, and I’ll never buy weapons anywhere but here!”

        Maya smiled. “Oh, I certainly hope so. Kitsudo is hammering out more armor in the back, but he’s already signed everything of import.” She put the sword aside and ambled off to a darkened corner where several scrolls sat sprawled over a rickety old table. “Here you are, dear. It’s all there – documents from all the armorers. Kitsudo nearly forgot, the lummox!”

        Mamushi tucked the scrolls into her pouch. Pretty soon there wouldn’t be anymore space.

        “How many stops do you have left?”

        “Just one. I got all the merchant lords in one swoop, and with the smiths out of the way, only the hospital is left.”

        Maya was shorter than Mamushi, so she had to stand on her tiptoes to press a dry kiss to the girl’s cheek. “You take care of yourself, Natsumi-chan. And scare a few doctors for me.”

        Mamumshi loosed a tinkling laugh. “I will.”

[Mamushi]

        The hospital loomed over the surrounding district, wrought of whitewashed brick with a great red “plus” painted over its automatic double doors. Mamushi stepped out of the mild summer heat and into the cool air-conditioning of the waiting room. Chairs lined the walls, perhaps a third of them occupied. Some people were coughing, others were sneezing, and some had odd things sticking out of even odder places. One man had managed to get a cheeto lodged up his nose.

        “May I help you, Shinobi-san?”

        Mamushi turned to regard the receptionist. She was a cute little woman, with a little snub nose and big eyes and fat cheeks. Like a kitty. Mamushi loved kitties. “I’m here to pick up documents for the Hokage. Signed, stamped, dated, and sealed.”

        “Oh! Yes, of course, Doctor Yoshinoru brought them down a few minutes ago…” she trailed off as she searched her desk. “Where are they…” She pushed away from the desk, the wheels of her rolling chair squeaking like a bunch of mice. Mamushi’s stomach grumbled again – pigeon was a poor meal by itself. “Akane? Where did Doctor Yoshinoru put the documenst for the Hokage?”

        Another woman appeared, taller than the first, and very thin, with a petulant mouth. “My grandmother had a saying for times like this. Look under your ass.”
        The receptionist looked confused. “But… I’m not sitting on them…”

        “It means get off your ass and look!” Akane turned and stalked off back into the nether reaches of the hospital.

        The receptionist growled. “Oooh, I can’t stand her!”

        “I wouldn’t worry about her,” Mamushi said. She liked the kitty looking lady, though she did nothing for curbing her growing hunger. Kitties were cute and cuddly and tasty. “She’s old and skinny. She’ll probably die alone. But you? You’re pretty, and you have a nice voice. In fact,” and she paused, tongue tasting the air, nose flaring as she inhaled deep, “I think this Doctor Yoshinoru might have a little crush on you. I can smell him on you. Does he give you a lot of hugs?”

        The woman blushed, pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, ahem, well, yes, hugs, that's it. The Doctor and I are – OH! Here they are!” She passed over the scrolls one by one – there were twelve in all. She leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “He said he wants to get married.” She fished a ring out of her breast pocket. The diamond on it was as big as a peanut. “Our engagement ring,” she said. “He doesn’t want me to wear it yet. Doesn’t want the others to think he’s showing favoritism, since I’m in line for a promotion.”

        Mamushi smiled her wide, wicked smile, but the woman was so happy she didn’t seem to notice. Mamushi’s regard for her rose a whole two notches. “If anyone complains, I’ll sic a snake on them.” She opened her mouth, and her tongue snake slithered out to wink at the shocked receptionist.
      
        “I… well… we… ahem. Thank you.”

        “Is everything signed, dated, stamped, and sealed?”

        “Every single one,” the woman swore. “Doctor Yoshinoru is very thorough.” She giggled.

        Mamushi's body betrayed her, pale skin rouging in a blush that reached down beneath her color. She stuffed her pouch as best she could, tucked the rest of the scrolls under her arm, and left. Scrolls collected, she took off for the castle.

finite.

[Comatose]

+40 EXP