herald [inv]

[Naitome]

FLASHBACK

---

Here, right here. This is where the world changed. Beneath a missing moon, where the sky churns clouds to cut ribbons of red to enclose a black sphere pretending to be the night-sister of the sun. There are several people gathered on a mass of rock in the middle of a long forgotten ocean. They are in a part of the world whose continents and countries have not yet been named, a place where savages sail on the whispers of their victims, and the cold seeps in from far more than the absent day. Akuharu is a very small boy. He is afraid. He bows his head as his master speaks.

"What is your name?"
My name is Hatred and Rage. My name is War.
"Who do you serve?"
I serve only those I am incapable of destroying, and my ambition.
"Where are you from?"
I am from Legend. I am a stranger nowhere. The world is nothing until it is mine.
"Why do you live?"
I do not. I die slower than those I kill, and I persist through the marks I leave on this world.
"What are you, Akuharu?"
I....I do not know how to answer, my lord. The oath ends there.
"And you have remembered it well, but now, I am not asking you to recite the words of the ancients. I want to know your mind. In your own words, Akuharu, think first. What are you?"
I am.....I am...a slave.

For the briefest of moments, an emotion crosses the face of the pirate-king known as the Six Paths of the Moon. It is the first time he's truly noticed his apprentice's youth. His helplessness. It is the first time he's realized that Akuharu is only a boy and is only doing and saying what he must to survive.

He looks into the terrified young man's deep black eyes and smirks gently, as the surrounding winds howl and gnash with frost-swept teeth and the others gathered on the makeshift island grumble among themselves in complaint.

"Savior...conqueror....hero....villain...you are all these things Akuharu...and yet...

"...you are nothing. Not without power. What do you want most of all?"
I do not know, my lord. I've never thought about it.
"Think about it now. If you could have anything you want, anything in the world, what would it be? Do not be afraid to answer truthfully. Is it my death? My head rolling around the floor of the Jagganath? A storm to drown us in fury and death and end your miseries? Tell me."
...I....I want.....
"Spit it out boy! Your own country? Servants? Knowledge? All these things are the hallmarks of power, of enforcing your will on those around you until you create that which your spirit demands to sate its hunger. Power is the answer to your ambition. Power is the key to true freedom. Power is what you want."
No.

And the pirate-king is taken aback by the boy's denial.

"No?"
I want a brother.

[Naitome]

The world around him was silent; it was a mirage, the placating hush of vast emptiness, mist-flooded plains arching up to form simulacrum valleys at the foot of an expanding plateau. His eyes slanted open, the knife edges of a single split lash pulling apart slowly, as if glued together by fatigue. He had not moved for days. His mouth strained to yawn, and then pulsed out in pain as he went through the endless day-to-day agony that was affirmation of his strangeness. The wound burned. He straightened, before uncrossing his legs and retrieving the Naginata that had lain peacefully behind him and collected moisture while he thought and slept and was alone. Akurojin-no-hi, as always, felt heavy as it was placed at his back with a scrap of thin chain, and the sound of his boot scuffing the wet earth seemed to signal the sudden eruption of nature. It was as if it had been holding its breath. The trees and the tiny fearless insects and the birds whose wings dripped in the chill. The moon overhead like a bloated corpse. The ashen light of evening within Kirigakure No Sato.

He walked. There were not so many others out today that he would be forced into repeating the same half-committed greeting he always did, and his head was bowed and solemn as he passed others on their way throughout the village. Seldom few spoke as he neared, though many would turn, taking in the light metallic mesh covering the entirety of his jaw, as if wondering whether or not to ask about it. He would have thought how use to this i've become, how ordinary a thing to be subject to the glares of strangers, but he did not really notice, and simply moved with the steady lethargic gait of one unaccustomed to choosing what he would do with his time.

He was a foreigner again, an isolated collection of half-truths and bad memories. Where a shadow loomed from the detritus of a collapsed column, he saw figures from his past outlined in haze, only to shake his head free of the images and continue on, more alert but far less connected to the city. There were stories here, etched in dust and slicking the sides of forgotten monuments, poetry growing fat in the rat-thick sewers and closed fields. But he remained deaf to whatever they might have told him. Unfocused. Clinging to whatever brick hovels encrusted the coast line like disease. He carved a path, and he followed one. It was the moment where inspiration and creation occurred simultaneously, though it was duller than any dream and ultimately dissatisfying. Impatient and irritated.

He walked.

[Naitome]

SPOILER: Click to show

Friendly intervention!
Rank: C
Ninja needed 1-3
Mission info: A group of thugs have been terrorizing the village streets at night, making them no longer safe for those who walk during the midnight hour. They've been said to lurk near the market district so starting there is your best bet. Permission to use force is given, but do not underestimate them, they may not be shinobi but they will more than likely be armed. Bring them to justice!

It was late; he'd been undisturbed by the sounds of others for several hours without noticing it and moved through an area of the Hidden Mist notorious for a string of robberies and pointless killings. It was thus not very difficult to notice when the familiar tap-tap-tap of hurried steps warned him of the approach of several others, whose speed seemed to increase the nearer they drew to him. Within the village, his headband was not worn, and despite the ominous tension his masked face effortlessly conveyed, he could perhaps be mistaken for any other civilian, moving to or from some social gathering, heavy with the 'trappings' of assumed wealth. Though not particularly prosperous, the people of Kirigakure No Sato were tactical and hoarded anything of value for as long as humanly possible, and Akuharu was not altogether surprised when he felt the cold edge of a blade press into the back of his neck.

"Your money and weapons, sir, slowly. Arms move too fast, or eyes flash 'round to glimpse a peek at us, and you'll be tasting the blade from the wrong end, get it?"

Akuharu sighed heavily, his coal black eyes cast around the market district shops that enfolded him in, held him, separated him from the bulk of the village. Civilians were so...predictable. So petty. It took a considerable amount of effort not to turn and face his 'attackers' from spite alone, but he restrained the urge. He spoke slowly and deliberating, straining to be heard through the ruined flesh of his lower jaw.

Why do you not work for the things you want? If you are so confident in your ability to harm others, why not become shinobi, protect the village, protect yourselves from the hatred of the poor and the weak? If you are so quick to kill, why not kill those who would seek to destroy your home, instead of preying upon those who cannot return such savagery? How is this strength?

"Dead man says what? You deaf? I'm talking to you, mister chatty poet, you hard of hearing? Your money and your weapons, not your pretty questions."

Akuharu sighed again, his right hand reaching slowly into the side of his pouch, as the left rose into the air, palm up, to show his compliance to their demands. The blade had been pushed in deep enough to draw blood, and as his fingers closed around a single kunai, a new voice spoke up from behind him.

"Come off it, Jasper, and quick. He's a fucking ninja. He's reaching for his damned knife right---

But the strangely observant youth would not finish his sentence.

[Naitome]

Crack. Though it was a sequence of sounds, the speed with which they occurred made it seem as if it were a single thing. A flick of the wrist allowed the kunai in Akuharu's clenched hand to drive itself through the bottom of its pouch and embed tip-first into the ground before him as simultaneously his body, flipping backwards through the air, would bring both feet to crash into the back of his blade-wielding assailants head. Launched forwards by the force of the blow and caught quite by surprise, the man, 'Jasper', would stumbled forwards...and trip over the awaiting kunai, releasing the handle of his own blade as he smashed face first into the ground. Akuharu's hand seemed to slide effortlessly into position to catch the falling sword of his attacker, which he held against the throat of the second man to 'speak out', his eyes darting across a group of three others who'd remained a bit further back.

He pulled the sword back towards himself, allowing its edge to drag a sharp discolored line across the man's neck and down his chest, as the pitch black of Akuharu's eyes slowly twirled into deep crimson, like the birth of a flame. The dramatic maneuver yielded the desired response, and the three youth who'd strayed from directly entering combat backed up, almost subconsciously, full of fear. They stared at his eyes as if he were a demon, and only the subtle bass of his voice broke them from their collective stupor.

Which of you is the leader?

Four pairs of eyes, against their will, drifted towards the young man bleeding on the ground, his face a contorted mask of pain leaking sad whimpers like a child.

[Naitome]

Are there more of you? Is he the leader of you all, or only this small group?

They looked down at their fallen leader, then to Jasper, whose mouth trembled slightly before stiffening, brows furrowed in anger.

"Don't tell him anything. He can't kill us. We're citizens."

Akuharu's eyes, crimson red, stared out at the other three as they seemed to shake off their visible fear a bit, straightened their posture. They took a few tentative steps forward, until the Kirigakure Ninja spoke again.

Are you all watching very closely?

He asked looking straight into Jasper's eyes. When the blade Akuharu held was plunged straight through Jasper's chest, protruding out of his back, just next to his spine, and his body was kicked away roughly to land before the three in a bloody gasping heap, they were all watching very closely. They screamed, and though it gave him no pleasure, Akuharu Uchiha smiled wide.

Dead men say what? You deaf? I'm talking to you. You hard of hearing? Are there more of you? Is he the leader of you all, or only this small group?

"T-t-there's only a...a f-few of us, different cells a-around the v-v-village. Our leader's n-n-name is Tiro. P-please don't k-k-kill u-us."

He wiped his blade clean of blood and sat down harshly on the chest of the fallen Jasper. His hand found the young man's throat, pulling his face more clearly into view, inspecting it, before nodding slightly and turning back to the young men.

Did you know it takes about six minutes to eat an entire human body? You have to be hungry of course. And usually the jaw can't stretch long enough to accommodate the skeletal bones and tougher tendons.

And as he said this, Akuharu slowly removed the scrap of mask covering his face, revealing his deformity.

That's not going to be a problem for me, though.

And the screaming of the remaining thugs began again, only louder, as they tried to back away in horror. The remains of Akuharu's jaw were like a crime scene; visceral and disgusting, fragments of sharpened teeth overlapping bits of bone and distorted muscle, raw flesh burnt over with the scorched trails of iron brands, blackened blood bruises and a vicious split of sinew and skin that should have been his jawline itself, but was just splayed open shards of tough scab matter. As he spoke, they quivered like the chitin of some gigantic insect, and the sounds seemed to echo throughout his entire face.

You have six minutes to find Tiro and bring him here, to me, or nothing will remain of your little leader. I'd suggest running. I'm quite hungry.

[Naitome]

The young men scattered in every direction, moving as fast as they could, unassisted by chakra and yelling slight obscenities soon lost in the wind as they ran. Akuharu refit his mask and looked down at Jasper's body, his hand frantically searching for a pulse. His Sharingan perceived the slightest flow of residual chakra moving in slow frantic oscillations away from the man's heart. God damn, that was close. Jasper was still breathing, though the movements of his chest had been hidden by Akuharu sitting atop him, and the Kirigakure shinobi stood, turning the boy slightly to inspect the wound he'd given him. He'd gracefully missed all of the boy's major organs, sandwiching the blade between his lungs and missing the delicate vertebrae behind entirely. While a shocking amount of pain would no doubt ensue, he would live, and with his hands moving through a series of seals, he shot a small sphere of katon chakra into the air, towards the direction of the tower. It would explode once it reached a distance of fifty meters in height, bursting into the rough symbol for 'dark side', the symbolic representation of the ANBU.

Seconds later, a masked figure would appear a few meters to Akuharu's right. It did not speak.

Quickly. He needs medical attention to stop the bleeding. The larger one with his face broken will be fine too, but if you could get them out of here, I'd appreciate it. I'm Uchiha Akuharu, Registration Number 399831-09X-U, Genin. I'm in the process of completing the Market District Crime mission. Their leader will be here soon.

Understood. Your identity has been confirmed. Your progress will be monitored.

And a suggestion for them both; though misguided, the larger one is very goal oriented, and the smaller one is quite observant. Prison would be a waste. They would make...interesting...candidates for Shinobi training. Thank you for the assistance.

The ANBU would only nod, before disappearing in a puff of smoke. Only barely did his crimson eyes catch a second and third ANBU scoop up the two injured men before shooting off into the dark in a flaring of densely packed chakra. The ground was still splattered in blood, though the only thing in the quiet streets of the Hidden Mist was Akuharu himself. He threw the stolen blade into a nearby thicket of leaves, and would wait until the sounds of approaching feet alerted him to his 'victims' return.

[Naitome]

Where the hell are my guys, freak?

The man was before him suddenly; a great wall of muscle several feet taller than Akuharu whose frame suggested I hit people very hard, very often, and Akuharu's eyes widened slightly as he took in the changing scenery of his situation. He stretched before beginning to answer, noting that though he'd been told the gang's numbers were 'only a few', at least thirty people stood around him, having formed a semi-circle in their approach, ranging in age from teenagers to tough looking men in their mid-thirties. Akuharu patted his stomach, while the three who'd been sent to retrieve their leader pointed and gasped at their absent members.

Tiro, I presume? Well, I lied about how quickly it takes to eat a human body. I wanted time to enjoy them both.

Tiro looked down at him quizzically, as if he were insane, which for all intents and purposes, he was doing a splendid job of convincing them of. He did not yet remove Akurojin-no-hi from his back, but instead, held his hand up as if to say 'stop', and addressed the assembled crowd, who'd begun removing several fierce looking weapons from all manner of cobbled together carriers. They were like an assembly of junk yard pieces come alive in the night, and he could not help but smirk at the childish thought as he spoke.

This is who you show allegiance to? A worthless cretin who would lead you all to your death simply to avoid fighting his own battle? Your leader is a coward.

He shouted it like a challenge, looking to those assembled, waiting to see their doubt grow. Tiro grinned, stepping forward and cracking his knuckles, stretching his neck from side to side like a prize fighter.

"Right on all counts, freak. Get 'em boys!"

And all in attendance converged on Akuharu's position, eager to kill him.

Oh fuck.

[Naitome]

So many hands and arms and feet. So many knives and crobars and pipework torn from old construction sites swung with petulant outrage without aim or skill. So much youthful rage. Akuharu was like a foreign organism attacked by white blood cells, who swarmed towards him, surrounding him, cutting off all possible chances of escaped as his hands deftly wove a pattern of handseals completed just as the corner of a vicious looking sickle would have claimed his head.

Katon: Akuharu.

(Fire Style: Enveloping Dawn/Double Evil)

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His mastery of the fire release allowed him to double-cast, molding the necessary chakra for and performing two techniques simultaneously, as around him, a fifty meter orb of flames shot out in every direction, his mouth emitting an ash-like mist as his feet pivoted, spinning him around, and causing an enhanced eruption of fire to explode with great force for fifty meters, compounding its damage exponentially. This was a combination of Kasumi Enbu no Jutsu (Mist Waltz Technique), as well as Furasshu Kasai (Flash Fire), with the spin allowing the mist-like napalm to spread in an omnidirectional burst that nearly incinerated the group in its entirety as the two techniques made contact with each other. To those afflicted, it would seem simply as if there had been a bright light, and then unimaginable pain, as even the concussive force had been enough to ensure that none could stand, save the Kirigakure shinobi himself.

He spoke again to those who could hear, his voice bringing even more agony to the few whose ears had not been seared shut.

You will cease your pathetic thieving ways, or I will make you wish I had killed you now. Do not force me to hunt you down, or I will devour you, one by one. And Tiro...you will be spared...for my last meal.

He had just enough random medical knowledge to know that there was no way any of them would even be able to use their arms and legs for even the simplest of motor functions without months of treatment that they obviously could not afford. There was too much damage to the underlying musculature, thick sections of burnt flesh that would probably gain infections in the bacteria filled mist even as they lay helplessly about. Their only hope, for the smartest ones among them, would be to seek out shinobi for healing techniques, which would of course only be shared if they promised to enroll in the shinobi academy, as payment for past crimes. The laws of Mist were quite strict, but he was at last beginning to understand their effectiveness. He wondered just how many of them he might one day be assigned to work with or teach. He smiled in spite of the violence that had just occurred, and slipped noiselessly into the awaiting darkness with a feeling of accomplishment.

He walked.

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[KEITH]

+55

[Naitome]

SPOILER: Click to show

Death Squad
rank; c
description; This unit of captured soldiers is warmed up and ready to party. A cell of missing nin we re-captured and tortured into nice blood rage. The only way they’re getting out of here is through you, so do your village a service and win. You’ll be facing one archer, one spearman and a burly iron knuckled brawler. All are entirely tai focused but don’t let them blow your head up too much, they still know how to kill pretty well.
reward; 50 experience, 1,000 ryo
minimum shinobi; one
mission status; interminable

It would be the earliest hours of the morning soon, and Akuharu had made his way towards a series of squat brown buildings clustered like mushrooms against forest-green fog. These were government buildings, asylums and institutes, the boring homes of accountants and the grand halls where dignitaries from places too far away to practically travel soon made new offices to discuss their trade. Of course, there were now more prisons than anything, dregs of war slopped into compact cells vibrating behind rust-thickened iron with the urgency of cockroaches. The spoils of some conflict grown pointless with time, dog soldiers, de-fanged and starving, sometimes children who'd done little more than fight for an ideal passed down by fathers they were forced to watch die. Akuharu could not help but feel...regret. Even though he'd not personally committed any act that could be deemed responsible for the war, even though he was newly a shinobi of the Hidden Mist, even though the great battles were not even memory for him, but story and conjecture delivered in raucous drunken outbursts from his Master while he was only a child. Still. It bothered him. How the proud could be made feckless and insufferable by defeat alone. How far men could fall once treated like beasts.

Down a corridor of curved street whose end fed back into itself, he knew that he'd come to the Cray Coil Holding Facility. It was a trick of topography; a neighborhood of old world architecture distorted by chakra and obscured by artificial mist to become a labyrinth that could not be solved. Every exit was really an entrance back into the center of the spiraling brick and stone outcroppings that constituted its maze-like walls. The skyline itself was also curved, so that the tops of the buildings seemed to run into themselves and reverse direction, and where a few sparse clouds and endless black and a block of rough cut moon should have spread above, there was only the mirror image of the ground beneath reflected back like a bubble. Guards were unnecessary, and also reluctant to volunteer; they'd be trapped as well. The only way to gain access, or truly escape, was through the young woman Akuharu soon stood before as he reached a giant mirror, that jerked inwards and broke and resealed itself from exploding shards every few seconds as he watched in awe. He let the crimson red leak away from his eyes, and spoke.

I'm...I'm Akuharu Uchiha. Is everything...what's going on in there? I'm supposed to be your temporary "kinetic operations specialist"? I'm sorry but I have to admit, I don't really know what that means. I've heard alot about the facility but...I mean...is everything alright in there?

He would start and stop his words, his body cringing every few seconds as the large mirror behind the woman stood like a door and broke apart and reformed like a dream. He shook his head and looked at her, really looked at her, and she smiled as if she'd seen the same reaction hundreds of times.

"Oi. S'okay. Calm yourself dearie and pay attention to these words only; s'not real. None of it luv. S'all an illusion, see? S'a simple door, one knob, well, three knobs if ye count the wankers trying to break through the other end, but ye get it, right? All's ye need is a simple touch..."

And she leaned over suddenly, grabbing him by the shirt, and kissing him rather aggressively. She most likely tried to aim for his forehead, but his height, as well as the startling shock and embarrassment Akuharu felt, forced him to fidget and pull away slightly, and her lips landed right over his right eye as it closed. She shrugged, chuckling a bit.

"...and the illusion should start to dispel for ye. Now, kinetic operations refers to killing, mostly, but, you're a special case. Going up against a real Death Squad, three man cell of Nuke-nin, pledged themselves to a cult, nutters the lot of 'em.. Been tortured for days, so, good and angry yeah, a bit wonky, might try to sacrifice ye to something. Be sure not to just...murder everyone. They might know something we'll need later. One more thing..."

She smiled, then looked a bit sad, placing her finger to her chin and looking into the sky as if she might remember some other bit of useful information to tell him.

"Nope, s'about it. Have fun."

Sure. Thank you.

Around Akuharu, the twisted imagery of the Cray Coil settled unexpectedly into...a featureless white building. It was like an enormous square, sunk partially into the ground and along the top, clear tubes as large as a man where stiff-faced civilians in laboratory jackets held clipboards and walked swiftly around, navigating tiny windows which led into perfectly equal twenty foot cells, wherein, groups of pacing ruffians could be seen running into the walls, oblivious. There was a reinforced metal bracing acting as a door behind the young woman, and the mirror he'd previously seen breaking and healing itself with liquid-light was a simple vibration, caused by three large men, beating against it with looks of shared madness. He surveyed the room, walking around to peer above and below the gaggle of prisoners who must have been seeing all manner of nightmarish obstacles preventing their pained escape; Akuharu saw an overhead vent structure that would allow him easy access to the room's center, and climbed atop its simple box structure. He pulled the grating away, and watched as the sound seemed not to reach his three targets, before descending.

[Naitome]

An arrow whistled by Akuharu's face, almost close enough to draw blood, his feet thudding harshly into the ground below. One of the three men 20 meters ahead of him had a bow drawn back, eyes darting around Akuharu as if he were moving, though the Kirigakure shinobi did little more than stand still in shock. He hadn't even felt the arrow coming, had only heard it impact the wall behind him as he fell and turned briefly, holding his hands out in front of him with caution. The other two men shifted position; a tall stocky older gentleman who'd been beating his fists against the wall, and a shorter man carrying an enormous spear. The archer was quite thin, and easily the tallest among them all, and all three looked Akuharu up and down with eyes darkened by insanity.

"He's not real Uobworra, just another part of the illusion. Keep trying to break the wall. This is the way out, I can feel it."

The stocky older man said to the archer with clear frustration, turning back to continue his work.

"Tch. Seemed real enough. Uaeps thought it was real too."

The archer replied, pushing the smaller fellow carrying the spear halfheartedly and staring into Akuharu's blank eyes, before dismissing him, re-sheathing the bow, and grabbing a shovel from the floor to beat against the same place the others had been attempting to destroy.

"Did not. Me and Uelwarb kept on digging. We'll be out soon. You can keep shooting at nothing."

Their spear-man said smugly, turning around almost immediately and banging the tip of his spear ineffectively into the wall. It was beginning to chip in an odd fashion; what looked like small rivulets spread like spider-web cracking in glass, running the full length of the wall and increasing in size with each impact. The defined boundaries of the complex illusion were breaking, and though Akuharu had apparently been freed from its influence, some stray flickering of chakra seemed to be trying yet again to weave its way through his mind, distracting him. A moment to think, a moment of chakra called to his dull black eyes and they would bloom with the first stage of his Sharingan. I'm becoming far too dependent on this thing he thought to himself, as he wondered exactly what he should do.

He was supposed to prevent these men from escaping, and avoid simply killing them at all costs, yet they seemed determined to escape. A drawn out fight would be unwise; these were not a group of street thugs, but former Shinobi, and Nukenin at that, who'd obviously believed themselves strong enough to survive being hunted for the remainder of their lives. They'd been hardened, made tough by their time in prison, and engaging them all simultaneously, with the multiple avenues of attack available to them, seemed foolish. Eventually, they were bound to notice that he was not merely another part of the illusion, so even the current advantage of surprise would run out if he hesitated too long, and if he simply attacked them, they would be able to survive, only the pain of whatever maneuver he used could possibly break them of whatever genjutsu type kept the place so strange if it was too severe.

Then, a plan came to him. It was not the best of plans, but their was a small possibility it would work, and allow him to complete the mission of preventing their escape, without having to hurt them. Too much. He removed an exploding tag from his pouch, placing it slowly on the ground before him, taking great care not to be seen, and moving with deliberate focus to place himself directly underneath the vent through which he entered. The three members of the 'Death Squad' would break through soon, and their attention was off of Akuharu, for the moment.

His hands rushed through seals, as a few seconds later;

Kasumi Enbu no Jutsu

_{(Mist Waltz Technique)}

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A thick ash-colored mist was blown out from the genin's mouth, filling the entire room in a thick smog. The mesh mask covering Akuharu's mouth would offer him some small protection from inhaling it all directly, but as it was born from his own mouth, an angling of his head allowed a significant degree of it to move out of the vents above. The venting itself was no illusion, but the illusion cast on the building itself would merely reflect the image back in, so as it the room partially cleared, the smoke would seem to billow back in, thinner in certain parts, the same bubbling effect warping its way throughout. It appeared like patches of limited visibility surrounding by dark smoke, where only the tiniest 1 to 2 meter spaces could be clearly identified.

Akuharu moved with quickness, a pulse of chakra and a well known group of seals transforming him into...Uaeps, the spear-man.

"Cough, cough. What the hell is this then? Uelwarb? Cough.

The real spear-man called out, as Akuharu approached Uobworra, slowing down just enough to be clearly seen by the man, who had already wildly released an arrow, and kicking him hard in the groin, laughing and snatching his bow. Akuharu ducked back into the smoke, releasing the simple Henge, then reforming himself as Uobworra, following the sudden pause in fists hitting the wall, and shooting a single arrow into Uelwarb, the strong man's, right eye. Uapes, spear in hand, watched him do this, before Akuharu retreated once more into the smoke, whispering Tch.



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[Naitome]

The reaction was a bit comical. As Akuharu faded into the surrounding mist, Uelwarb shouted out in pain, his massive musculature straining to grasp his right eye, snatching out and staring at the arrow in disbelief. Uobworra held his groin, seething with anger, searching for Uaeps, whom he believed his bow, and grasping the smaller spear-carrying man enraged. Uaeps, believing he'd seen Uobworra betray them, hit the former archer with all of his strength, while Uelwarb's rushed forward in a half blind charge of physical power. He struck Uobworra with a clothesline, who could only look on shocked, as he believed his two partners had turned on him. As Uaeps took the low ground, tackling Uobworra into the surrounding mist, Akuharu had once again taken the spear-man's form. He leaped into plain sight, punching Uelwarb in his left eye as he fumbled for proper grounding. A shunpo would carry Akuharu backwards, back underneath the vent opening as he discarded the spear-mans form and escaped the room, breaking off the grating once and for all and allowing the remaining mist to slowly filter out of the room. Trace amounts would remain, swirling around the three men, who took to cursing and attacking each other now.

Akuharu went back to the young woman near the entrance to the complex, smirking as he informed her of the new situation.

They've turned against each other now. There's a flammable mist slowly filtering out, but I left an exploding tag just in case; the blast will be augmented once it goes off. They'll most likely beat each other to within an inch of their lives, and you should be more than capable of breaking them apart before anyone dies. I'd like to stay and ask more about the facility, but i've still got a busy night ahead of me. I'll be counting on your report to the Kage's tower of the missions completion. Thank you for all your help.

"S'not a problem at all. Thanks for all ye help as well. We'll let the Kage know."

Akuharu bowed slightly, turning and leaving Cray Coil in his wake as his steps echoed out into the dark. He felt conflicted about his decision; perhaps the fight he had started had broken up close friends and soldiers in arms. Perhaps he'd merely capitalized on feelings of anger they'd left unsaid for years. Perhaps he'd torn away the bonds of brotherhood between those who'd counted on one another in a time of great stress and pain. How was this his place? How was it alright for him to do so, to be paid and praised as a shinobi of his village, to take pride in having brought nothing but misery to men who'd not personally wronged him in any way?

Is this...what it means to be shinobi?

He said aloud, his mind an uncomfortable mass of doubt. It seemed that no matter what path he followed, he would be met only with more questions as to whether or not what he did was right or merely right for the moment. He could not shake the feeling that regardless of his intentions, he'd become only a herald of deception and death wherever he went.

He walked.

[KEITH]

+40

[Naitome]

SPOILER: Click to show

Troubled Kids
rank; c
description; We have a few real young kids that think it’s cool to steal from stores and skip their classes. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to come in and give them a talk about village duty, responsibility and just how to be an all around good kid. I think your words might help them out.
reward; 50 experience, 1,000 ryo
minimum shinobi; one
mission status; interminable

He soon approached the Academy, a place he'd never actually attended, though had read much about in his brief time combing through the lore of Kirigakure No Sato. The villages reputation as the 'Bloody Mist' began with its shinobi training; at one point, 'graduation' was only allowed for the student who successfully killed his other classmates. Though in days long past this had seemed an effective way to weed out the weak, it also proved to be an impractical military decision, bolstering their ranks with sociopathic murderers who were excellent at performing their duties, but quickly outnumbered by the more level-headed armed forces of the other nations. It was in this way that Hidden Mist shinobi gained both a reputation for ruthlessness, and the stigma of being impossible to work with. Simply put, the shinobi of other nations did not trust them, and for good reason. How could one trust a man who as a child, had murdered his closest friends? Akuharu had done the same thing, only he had not been forced to by centuries of tradition; his crimes had no purpose, no greater lesson to teach him about the world. He'd merely been told what to do to survive, and complied, acting on the disturbed whim of a mad man. He could judge no one.

As he entered, the metallic glint of his hitai-ite flashed quickly to the instructors at the gate, and they nodded in approval, before gesturing towards the narrowed hall behind them.

"Disciplinary Room. Block 403. Everyone's been calling 'em 'The Divorced'."
The 'Divorced'?
"Yeah, cause by the time you notice they want something, they've already taken it."

Akuharu laughed quietly, and began walking past a series of numbered doors, each containing a small classroom. He could only imagine what was occurring within; bright bursts of light accompanied by crashing or raucous cheers, the sounds of battle or the boring lectures of aging teachers. The numbers along the doors increased, and it was not long before he came to the end of the hall, and finally a door marked 403. Underneath the stenciled numbering, was a single word in large squared print;

PUNISHMENT

and from behind it; shouting. He took a deep breath before entering, and was immediately met with the cruel eyes of a young boy, his fingers twirling the ring of a kunai, his face an angry scowl of defiance. With him were three others, each about the same age and general size, who chewed gum or stared off into space, while the only other adult in the room did nothing but hold her head in both hands, frustrated.

"Please tell me you're the shinobi they sent to speak with these...children? I don't care what you say to them, just don't let them leave the room. I haven't had the chance to eat yet and i've been with them for seven hours straight. No, no, don't say anything to me. Just let me go. I'll be back soon."

The woman said, gathering a stack of papers and leaving the room in a hurry of tension-filled steps as she locked the door behind her. Akuharu was a bit taken aback, and moved towards the desk near the front of the makeshift classroom, before clearing his throat.

Ahem. Alright then. How about we start with names? I am Uchiha Akuharu. You all are...?

[Naitome]

"Bored."

They all answered in unison, only keeping their gaze on him long enough to deliver unimpressed stares of defiance before tapping on their desks, or playing in their own hair, or, like the first child, spinning a kunai absentmindedly. Akuharu sighed, like a cornered animal preparing for its final assault, and took out Akurojin-no-hi, twirling the ornate naginata in his palm while the assembled children tried their hardest not to take notice.

Well then. I'm supposed to be talking to you about responsibility and duty, about your commitment to the village. But if what you're saying is that you don't care about the village, then I suppose that makes you traitors. According to our laws, traitors are to be executed on sight.

The room suddenly grew quiet, as Akuharu's eyes flickered into crimson red, and he began grinning like a demon, his mask only budging a few scant inches as his nose crinkled and he moved his head to the side, taking in their trepidation and doubt.

That of course is my other function as a Shinobi of Kirigakure No Sato; to eliminate threats to the functioning of our nation, regardless of who or what they are. Structure is paramount and must always be maintained.

Akuharu stood then, pointing the spear towards the boy twirling the Kunai, his very essence seeming to radiate killing intent, as he slowly circled the cheap wooden desk, shortening the distance between them. The children looked at each other, shocked, and seemed not to understand exactly what he was saying, before one of the quieter ones who'd been staring off chirped up.

"You mean...you'd...you'd kill a bunch of kids? We're...gonna be Shinobi one day..."

You're not going to be much of anything without respect and discipline. At the moment, you are only liabilities, and you will most likely only result in the deaths of your friends. The world is better off without thieves who are too young and stupid to even recognize that they are a danger to others.

The mouths that had previously been hung open in protest now shut suddenly, and the first stirrings of guilt spread among them. Those who'd attempted to speak with them before had always taken their youth into account, made excuses for them, pushed them off onto others and tried not to worry about what would happen. But Akuharu only thought of his own childhood, when he'd been forced to kill or been beaten for nothing more than being perceived as disrespectful. He could not imagine a world where the young were not effortlessly expected to uphold the same standards of conduct as adults.

"What's the point then?"

The kunai spinning brat said suddenly.

"What's the point, I said? What's the point in working hard or listening to you adults. You made the world the way it is. You're the reason we have to fight in the first place. You're the ones who go around threatening and killing kids just to get what you want, and you don't just do it here!"

He began shouting, turning to face the others, rallying them to his point of view.

"They do it everywhere! That's why there are always war and death! That's why our parent's died and they took us and forced us to come to their stupid school and learn how to do the exact same thing when we get older! That's why we never have anything, and they teach us that deception is our greatest tool and how to sneak and not be seen and then turn around and tell us its wrong to lie to them or steal from them while they'd send us out to do the same thing to other people! People just like our families!

So...So what's the point?! Who cares if you kill us, there'll always be more of us for you to steal and brainwash and train to act out your stupid wars. So who cares!"

And the boy threw the kunai with very real anger but without much skill or speed at the center of Akuharu's face.