CAPTURE: Kiyoshi Fujioka [M]

[Naitome]

_{Catch the Criminal
Rank: C.
Shinobi Required: 1-4.
Mission Information: Fujioka, Kiyoshi. This is the name of a rogue Sunagakure no Sato genin who was caught trying to sneak into the Kazekage’s vault. No doubt he had plans to steal ryo or village secrets for malicious intent. It was recently reported that Kiyoshi escaped his cell at the Sunagakure prison. As the village gates are being guarded he has not been able to escape. A skilled shinobi or group of novices is required to capture the convict. Be on your guard, as he is a skilled Fuuton user. Bring him in.. dead or alive.
Special Information: Repeatable. Any difficulty setting is allowed, as you will be the one(s) playing out the criminal. However, you are expected to make it believable—no one is invincible. There is a chance that you may be injured.
Reward: 50 EXP & 1000 Ryo.}


--|

<sub>Buffeted by the winds. A dream-song of air that lifted debris up and over the enclosed sand roofs of his home village. It was night and he was tracking a thief through crumbling brick facades complacent in their slow fade to dust and memory. Carrion crows pecked at the skeletal remains of unfinished buildings. Big imposing blocks of worn stone jutting precariously from a chassis of grain.

Sun-scorched heliotype in hand, Naitome looked down and breathed out heavily with irritation. He was walking a bizarre stumbling path through the desert streets of Sungakure, testing out the sound of a single name.

Fujioka, Kiyoshi.

He replaced the tiny likeness of the man with a single shuriken, his feet carrying him faster and faster, up walls and across the heated roofs of his comrades dwellings. The storms were quieter, more docile, at night. He felt contemplative and at peace. Prepared. He would not be eluded for long.

Sand dust fluttered on the barest edges of perception. He ducked communication wires and startled a few creeping animal species trying patiently to make their home in seldom touched chimneys. He was following a a young man whose name he did not know. Blue eyes sparkling with a faint electric spark watched an ungainly body move suspiciously from one street corner to the next. He was cautious, but reserved; free of the all out panic of a wanted criminal.

This was not Naitome's true target.

The unguarded young shinobi fidgeting in the dark and passing quickly but loudly from one street-lamped section of road to the next was an associate of the genin thief Naitome pursued. Associates become friends when faced with danger or the threat of capture. Friends can also get you killed. Naitome had learned this lesson well enough. The shuriken found its way clutched tightly between his thin fingers. He watched and waited.

A sewer grate fashioned of black stone could be heard grinding against the congealed sand of Sabakukuda District, while the boy at street level peered sharply over his shoulders before approaching. As the grating was pushed to the side by dirty hands, a smile crept across three faces simultaneously. The face belonging to the dirty hands smiled in relief, and the boy who suddenly crouched down to grasp them mimicked this same feeling and sentiment.

Naitome smiled because the dirty hands belonged to a face he'd recently gotten to know well.

A single shuriken flew through the night sky, undisturbed by the wind.</sub>

[Naitome]

<sub>Lamp. Burst. Light and glass and violent noise shattering the tranquility of night. The two startled boys below him looked around to attempt to track the cause of the unsightly interruption, but it was dark, and Naitome was already in motion. His blue kimono flared into the blackness behind him as he alighted on a nearby shop, calling a mass of iron sand to his palm in the shape of a single elongated kunai.

Flick!!

Assisted by his kekkei genkai's dominion over magnetic force, the black powder arranged itself into a solidified blade that almost whistled through the air with its flight. Ten meters from the shop's front to where the boys stood, as a blast of chakra manipulated wind blew from the grating far too late to knock off the projectiles trajectory. With a distinct metallic ping the accomplice was caught through the hand, his palm blossoming the blunted handle of Naitome's iron-sand kunai, stuck. The lamp pole whose marred surface now held the infused blade echoed in the sudden hush of their surroundings, and Naitome spoke, while his target stood in front of his trapped partner.

"Fujioka Kiyoshi. You have been convicted of crimes against Sunagakure No Sato, including but not limited to an assisted escape from Sashiima Prison. You will return with me to the prison's facilities now...

...or you will die here."

he said. with all the subtlety of a knife dripping poison. His voice was curt but slightly high-pitched, young. Though he had long ago foregone the simple pleasure of being a child, he still sounded like one, though he doubted the chilling accusatory tone of his statement would be taken lightly by the thief.

"Boy..."

Naitome said with arrogance, indicating his target's trapped and terrified companion.

"...do not try to interfere. While I was instructed to attempt the live capture of Fujioka, I have no reason to give you the same courtesy. You will be delivered to Sashiima Prison authorities as well, for aiding and abetting a known criminal..."

Naitome added, a side-ways glance at a Sunagakure Headband wrapped around the boys waist and flashing its graying metal nearly forcing him to mutter

"...traitor."</sub>

[Naitome]

<sub>The two criminals eyed each other. Silent thoughts, deadly thoughts, an exchange of intent; something insidious crept through the air birthed by their anxiety. But they were not afraid. They viewed the small Sunagakure genin with a mix of curiosity and anger, but seemed somehow more relaxed after sizing him up. He did not appear to be much of a threat, and the two seemed suddenly confident that they could flee without hassle.

How unfortunate. How sad and misguided and wrong they were.

A flutter of movement signaled the beginning of their escape. The thief's accomplice dissipated into a quickly expanding sphere of smoke as Fujioka veered left harshly. His hands moved suddenly through a series of handseals before inhaling and exhaling in a mild explosion of fuuton chakra that grenaded into existence just before catching the edge of Naitome's clothing. The genin had jettisoned backwards in response to the seals he knew signaled techniques, planting his right foot back against the brick front of the shop. The sound of a foot crushing broken glass drew his attention to the right as a nearby alley was disturbed by the flight of a shadowy figure. The blood against the pole shimmered out of existence soon after. Naitome thought.

Shadow Clone takes the kunai. Illusion by the original fakes the damage. Fujioka uses wind, but he's pursuing. Mastery and youth indicate a large number of relatively weak techniques. Blade, high left, move.

He ducked below a rapidly moving shuriken and rolled towards the pole, as a pull of his own chakra pushed the iron sand kunai into the shape of a windmill-shuriken and launched it behind his back, wildly, inaccurate. Fujioka crouched low, hands moving together to make more signs as Naitome pivoted hard left, a shunshin carrying him forward in an instant. An arc of his swordhand brought Waking Dream from its sheathe at his back and split a diagonal shard through a cube of wind, knocking the thief off balance. Naitome plunged through a cone of pressurized air, sword tip out, and sunk it deep into the chest of Fujioka.

Pain. Light.

Blown back. Fujioka's body flaring into a combustion of sharp wind that threw him into a stone bench across the street. Shaking his head to clear it, he caught the sight of the real Fujioka, trailing his accomplice by several meters, as both ran full speed in the opposite direction. Naitome cursed himself and followed suit, his feet dashing against the ground, then stepping up, running horizontally along the side of the building with a layer of chakra holding his feet into place. The two criminals feet could be heard impacting against the stone road as Naitome propelled himself faster and faster, a particulate cloud of black iron chasing in his wake.

"Foolish..."

He said, though it was unsure if he was referring to Fujioka and his friend, or to himself.

Road turns into the Old District. Cut off at the House of Elders. 2 blocks east over the old music hall ruins and I can catch up before he crosses Gushoka Way.</sub>

[Naitome]

After two blocks of deconstructed city, lie Gushoka Way. An X-shaped cross-section of streets that met at what was left of an old train station, four lines of steam driven metal once met here and dislodged busy travelers throughout Sunagakure. Now, the sounds of whistles and grinding wheels was gone, replaced by a heavy thudding step on the old station platform. The two criminals had made their way to the tunnel entrance of the underground Sobek Line, and now conversed with a waiting group of three oddly dressed comrades carrying large bags. Naitome moved to a copse of shadow near the ticket booth, as he heard the young men in frantic discussion.

"--esn't matter. In the end, you didn't bring what I asked for anyway."

Fujioka said, bristling with anger at his accomplice.

"I told you there were ninja everywhere looking for you, and I was right. I wouldn't have been able to take the key ten feet without somebody catching me...which they did. It's your fault for stealing the lock when you could have just asked for it.

His accomplice replied, frustrated briefly, before a smile crossed his face.

"That's why he had US steal it while he created a diversion."

The three strangely garbed newcomers chimed at the same time.

Key? Lock?

"Deception is a ninja's greatest weapon, ha!"

His accomplice said cheerfully, smug. Full of pomp and preening for recognition.

"You've got the key then?! Show it to me."

Fujioka's face spread into a thankful expression of thanks so powerful it almost looked like sorrow as the three men held out a three segments of a some unknown material for the thief to see. Fujioka looked at them and breathed heavily, his hands then performing a grouping of seals Naitome could not recognize. A lull of time filled with chakra radiated out, the train station its epicenter in a flurry of motion beyond the physical as energy careened into reality, and Naitome could almost hear a thunderous resound of defiance as something unnatural began to happen.

The sphere of invisible electro-magnetic forces circulating his body grasped at the shards, fluctuated inward, screeched with a hissing affirmation that told him they were metal, and thus under his blood-based ability to control. As the sky around them all darkened, Naitome still unseen in the shadows, the three shards floated up and out of the men's hands, spinning slightly, and fused in a quiet brightness that made their shape far more recognizable.

A key. The shards formed into a key.


Fujioka slammed his palm suddenly into the earth, into the very sand that was their namesake, as a black pattern spread from what at first had seemed just a tattoo. It now appeared to be some dark writing, moving like a living creature as it settled into a spiral design accompanied only by Fujioka's voice.

"Twelve Lock Seal: Suzaku Flame Cage Dispersal."

What...

...si thaW

What is happening?

[Naitome]

<sub>Before Fujioka, a burst of red light formed...something...some type of gate or vortex, a swirling pressure filled envelopment of light and furious heat that distorted everywhere that it touched. Naitome could feel it, even from his hidden position several meters away; a shell of magnetism reached out and interacted across the boundaries of space, he could feel that aura getting pulled towards the conjoined vortices created by Fujioka's stolen 'lock'. In a burst of discolored flame, Naitome watched in awe as the circle of light swelled and from its center, a woman's hand and head extended.

The rest of the woman's body seemed reluctant to emerge. Her eyes opened, eyes the same unsettling blue as Fujioka, skin the same off-putting gray, the two looked as if they obviously shared the same clan, she could even be Fujioka's

"Sister!"

Fujioka shouted, grasping the hand that was free, forgetting everything in the sheer joy of seeing her.

"...br....brother...?"

She responded, though the voice seemed to be traveling a much farther distance, was barely picked up by the wind.

"I told you sis.....i told you didn't I? I said I would get you out no matter what and I did! I don't care about the village, I don't care about anything but you, Mai. Please....I just need to find where your prison is, and then..."

Fujioka paused, eyes full of emotion, while Naitome, unable to take any more, removed himself finally from the shadow.

"You're trying to save...your sister...

Naitome began, quietly. The assembled group looked at him, weapons instantly at the ready, but something about Naitome's face stopped them in their tracks...

...Naitome was crying.

He thought of his own sister, Duriima, and how'd he lost her to war, weak and fragile as he was, unable to convince her to leave her new home in Yukigakure and find him. He thought of his inadequacies; the glint in his eyes was full of determination and anger, love and old fragments of concern. Six individuals stared at the Sunagakure genin as he slowly approached the crimson vortex holding Fujioka's sister hostage, and sunk to his knees, bowing in supplication.

Naitome rose his head while Fujioka and his main accomplice looked on in mild confusion.

"...I...I too lost a sister...during the war.....and the village...."

"...the village told me not to let it bother me, not to search for the body....but they've been holding your sister in this..."


"...what is this?"

Naitome said, indicating the phenomenon of chakra before him.

Fujioka placed a hand tentatively on Naitome's shoulder, and spoke in a gentle voice.

"This....is a prison."

"My sister was...not necessarily the bravest of shinobi, and when the war came, when they wanted 'volunteers' for the front lines, she got scared. She thought they were calling her to die. You see, our family is quite gifted at utilizing wind release techniques, and we would be able to mount a powerful defense, coupled with other strong users in the village. But often times, many of us die. And our family had already lost many to the constant battles."

"But Sunagakure didn't understand that. They thought of her only as a coward, and even though she'd served as a dutiful ninja for years, they only cared about making an example out of someone."

"They tried to imprison her by normal means at first, but...something happened. She can't stand being trapped, none of us can...it makes us go crazy. She was just...frightened. While trying to escape she...she killed a guard that was some distant family member of Sand's Daimyo and..."

"And they decided to use this technique to keep her trapped. You see, the prison has a lock, and the lock has a key, but all are scattered to different wavelengths of reality. One must find the key, then find the lock, then find the prison. Only when you've brought all three elements together, can the prison be opened."

"I still don't know where the actual prison is. But I know that wherever its at...is hurting Mai."

Fujioka paused and indicated his sister, a small sigh escaping his lips.

"But Sunagakure knows where the prison is. They've got records for every forbidden jutsu they've ever performed locked away in that vault of theirs, but its proven impossible so far. There's just too much stuff in there to search through. Only Kiyoshi's been able to break in multiple times, but it could take years without someone who can get direct access to the Kage's chamber. We won't dare try to break in again."

"But....I think...we may have just found someone who can help."

The accomplice said looking down at Naitome with hope in his eyes.

Naitome muttered

"How could....how could the village do something like that...."

a look of bewilderment crossing his face. Naitome stood and gripped the handle of his sword tightly, furious. His arms were shaking with violent intent, while his face became a mask of dissatisfaction and stress.

"This isn't right. I don't care what happens to me, something is...corrupt in this land, and I won't stand for it."

Naitome lowered his head solemnly and said

"What do you need me to do?"</sub>

[Naitome]

<sub>The assembled group crowded around Naitome, setting up plans and conspiracies, as Fujioka and his main accomplice would from time to time speak to the boy's sister with loving inquiries and obvious affection. Naitome patted Fujioka lightly on the back, a symbol of friendship, and had created a replica of the sand village with iron sand, calling Fujioka's accomplice over to hear their plan to assault the tower. The accomplice bent down low, neck outstretched, struggling to catch a glimpse of the tiny model and their salvation when

Snikt--

The iron sand replica exploded.

It formed shards of black iron, like the petals of some bizarre flower, its shape was a myriad spiral of jutting spikes that carried a single point through the foreheads of each of the assembled group, save the accomplice, who caught his spike through the left side of his throat, a splatter of blood rippling a red spatter on the train tunnel floor. The three oddly dressed helpers fell with a sick wet thud, while Naitome stood, hand around his nodachi, approaching the fallen accomplice whose hand rose to his throat, spilling blood.

"W..what....what the hell...?"

he questioned, eyes wide with fear and disorientation. Gone from Naitome's face was any sign of kindness or understanding. He was solemn and reserved, Waking Dream seemed to be gaining a black patina of ash as his previous collection of iron sand wrapped around the blade.

"As you said...traitor...deception is a ninja's greatest weapon."

Fujioka turned, began to make handseals...

...and was thrown forward in an ignition of flame born from the exploding tag Naitome's friendly pat had placed on his back.

Naitome removed the head of Fujioka's accomplice quickly and without remorse, before walking slowly to Fujioka's writhing body. His back had been scorched, his body thrown and carrying a criss-crossing pattern of marks that prevented him from moving, except out of pain and fear. He looked up as best he could, back and forth between his sister's partially freed form and Naitome's grim visage. He screamed in torment. He asked, accusing

"You're no better....no better than Sunagakure....one of their shinobi through and through huh...just another dog of war..."

He spat the words viciously.

"What about your sister....what about...the war...what you said...it was all...lies?"

Naitome instructed a block of iron sand to form around Fujioka's body, containing him in a block cube of near impenetrable metal. A prison for the man who hates them. He walked up to the block of iron, as it bobbed lightly before him, and a single spike broke free racing towards and through the throat of Fujioka's sister, before removing her head in the same brutal fashion as he'd done the accomplice.

He placed a single hand against the block of iron.



"Yes."


Naitome answered quietly, before leaving the area with his floating prison, and prisoner, in tow.

[exit]</sub>

[marvolous.]

+60 EXP.
+50 EXP [Mission Bonus]

---

Total: +110 EXP - + 1000 Ryo. Good stuff.