Murder in Kawatonton![Mission][P]

[Śākyamuni]

Murder in Kawatonton!
Rank: C
Ninja needed: 1-3
Mission info: A teenage girl was brutally murder Kawatonton, a town just north of Kirigakure. A second was brutalized, but escaped death. Find the killer and give him a dose of his own medicine.

The paper crinkled, grasped by the unseen but acknowledged hand that rested on the stationary. The ruby hues gilded over the parchment with a intensity that metaphorically linked their pigmentation to the more negative aspects of the colour red: fury. The name was just that, a name, it did not mean anything to the crimson sociopath. But Emiya still crinkled his brow in annoyance. This simply was not acceptable. He could not believe a fellow country-man would partake in such an act, it was totally and utterly despicable. As soon as he had touched this undefined female with his perverted intent, his fate was forfeit. It was merely his bad luck that Emiya had been assigned his execution order. Emotions were not something that he often indulged in, and sometimes he managed to fool himself he actually felt anything. This was one of those few times he actually indulged himself in the process of actually appearing to beetle his brow in the frustration of the surrounding world. In this case however, he did not need to fake it. He was genuinely concerned, annoyed and ticked off. Not for the emotional reasons, but for the mere presence that someone possessed the capacity to perform such an action. His mind was based around the principles of rationality. The more mundane reasons of negative emotions did not apply to him. Crumpling the paper in his hand, he threw the unessential garbage detailed the contract into the appropriate container:

"Time to head out,"

[Śākyamuni]

The trip from x to Kawatonton wasn't a terribly exciting one. But...there was of course the thrill involved in the minor hiking trip. Who knew what clues that where open to discovery? However, nothing seemed to jump out, poke him in the retina and shout out 'look at me!'. Nonetheless, he still took note of anything, mundane, extra-mundane and otherwise more mundane then a History professor at full rant. Now, here was the period in which things didn't get done. And he hated such distances of activity, or more accurately the lack thereof. So he kept himself occupied with the thoughts of how he was to conduct himself with the murder of one girl and the attempted murder of another. The later was going to be scarred for life, it was doubtful she would locate herself a spouse due to her mangled appearance. If anything, many would consider her a 'charity case' and anyone seen with her would not be given the respect due to a traditional couple. As a rule of principle, people here typically tried to keep quite about the majority of relationships, except the more pressing ones. Pregnancy, marriage, divorce. Well, you get the general concept.
What this man had done was place a girl into the spotlight, her fame of surviving the attack would never leave her. Chances where she would become a zealot of one of those strange religions floating around.
It appeared he had become side-tracked from his original intent. Locating clues on the side of the road. He'd seen so many tragedy slash detective mystery, when just towards the end, some unimportant prop would mention some detail and the entire thing would become unveiled. Fortunately, that was not reality. Take for example these beggars he was about to converse with.

"Greetings bedraggled one, may I ask a boon?"

[Śākyamuni]

"waz can 'ul prov'de gov'nor"

Emiya eyed the scantily garbed figure with some distaste. He was close to the suburb, so the presence of the dregs of civilization wasn't exactly an unexpected, Shinobi just didn't usually converse with these types. However, when need necessitated, he wasn't stingy about doing his duty. This was just another of those times when you forgot who you really where, you placed on the professional persona of a meek, mild mannered civilian who liked to think of themselves as a Private Eye. Then you acted in the manner of someone who knew too much and was confident in the ability to have you strung up by the smaller digestive tract from some unnamed lamppost. Whether or not someone would even recognize you was optional, depending on the day of the week. So instead of talking in posh tones and referencing to the beggars butchering of their common tongue rendering them unsuitable to converse with, Emiya just smiled. Hopefully disarmingly, but one could never really tell.

"My request is simple. I wish to know about the activities of a certain someone. I don't know who. So, in the spirit of good-faith, I will provide you with shelter."

At this, Emiya's hand extended, bearing the gift of his outer garment, a long gentleman's robe. This would cover up the miscreant and keep him interested. What he had done was place all his shinobi items within the robe, this would prevent the beggar from running away and allow for further planning.
Additionally, his plan did not allow him to have any weapons on his body. He was required to be unarmed and vulnerable. The headband was also included, but if all went according to plan, he didn't really intend to be caught out, so one had to take safety measures.

"I shall return later with further payment."

The beggar nodded eagerly, before nestling into the coat, seeming to take no notice of the slightly heavier then normal attire. Emiay simply nodded once, before moving on. This was going to be amusing. Plots almost always were.

[chiatsuki]

+ 30

[Śākyamuni]

Within his heart, Emiya was crying with tears of sheer and utter delight. On the surface, Emiya was crying with horror, shock and disbelief. Curtsy of a bag of pepper he had recently purchased. His normally seraphic aloofness was scrunched up and thrown in the proverbial paper basket. His thin mask was cracked and shattered as the tears of chemical irritation trickled down his face, a curtain of hair hiding the leer that might have put off the confused merchant who was probably considering the gender of Emiya more then the actual tears trickling down his cheeks.
After rubbing them for good effect he played a game of 'peek a' boo' with his hair, before finally emerging, appearing for all intents and purposes, like someone who had just inhaled a bag of pepper. That was if you where a cynic, if you where a kindly Patriarch like this bumbling oaf would merely see a beautiful boy/girl, crying because someone she knew was killed. How pathetic. Still, it was time to play on those sympathies, Emiya needed to locate the house of the girl who had been killed and fast. This Mission was on a time-limit, he'd need to track down the killer, who was still unknown.

"It has been many a year since I visited dear Sakura."

[/center][/color][/font] Yes, the victim's name had been Sakura, how appropriate. Smiling thinly, or weakly as the Merchant would put it:

"How might I find her House, she may- oh I beg your pardon."

[/center][/color][/font] Before breaking down into silent wrecking sobs.

"Now, now missus, dey moved a few yea's ago. Tw'as a mighty sto'm that forcem 'em to."

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The foolish merchant then raised a helpful arm, pointing in the rough direction of the household.

"Dey live 'ver yonder. Go on, visit 'em, may'y I'hall have a pattie fo' you late'?"

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Moving off with a dejected shuffle in his footsteps, Emiya wore a grin of predatory levels across his face, the image presented itself with almost shocking levels of realism to that of a avian, a hawk perhaps. Any bird of prey that had recently spotted it's meal could [at that point] be compared to Emiya as he found the scent of his own quarry.
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[Śākyamuni]

^{Moving with a hurried pace through the streets, Emiya eventually happened upon a house that suited the description provided with the other details of the mission. Kiri wasn't exactly known for sending it's Shinobi out into unknown parts without some glues to guide them, this was after all, what agents were for.
Glancing around slightly, Emiya strode briskly forwards. This wasn't exactly the most opportune time to call, as they would all be out and about. This mattered little to Emiya as he wanted to use their bathroom mirror to get the pepper out of his eyes, he couldn't do a really good job of imposing his superior will and personality on them if he was crying while doing it now could he? Theoretically, you didn't generally break into someone's house while on a mission, but as he didn't really intend to take anything, aside from their pride and self dignity. While a man's home wasn't his fortress it most certainly was his castle, he highly doubted that anyone enjoyed having their one place to call 'Home' being violated. And he fully intended to make use of some of the more common items on the area. Water for example, he was thirsty.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometime later after a rather painful period of continuing to keep up the image of having been calmly waiting for them for about three hours, Emiya smiled as the sound of a young girl's scream echoed from the doorway that led into the kitchen. He was quite aware of his similarities in appearance to the murdered girl. It was partly why he had chosen it. This gave him another advantage against the family, and to test whether any of them felt guilty when faced with something that looked so much like the crime they committed. Alternatively they could be a sociopath, in which case the entire case became a whole lot harder, but using Ocrham's Razor, it honestly looked like an inside job. An Uncle or an Aunt perhaps, even a cousin or a sister. Could the rapidly paling girl in front of him have commited the crime?
With this thought in mind he stepped forwards, which was rapidly meant by the loss of awareness by the blond in front of him. Looking down at the comatose form, he stepped over the prone figure and came face to face with the maternal spouse over the household, likely coming back from shopping or picking up the female behind him.
"Boo."}

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