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        Mai took Mamushi down to her office for tea and a light snack and to discuss strategy. An hour later and the murderous genin was standing before a small company of fifteen men, clad in bulky padded clothes beneath fine, lightweight lamellar armor - a captain's armor, Mai had said, woven from iron, steel, and leather scales, paired with a harikake kabuto crested with a golden trident, the middle prong a golden dragon rearing, and two curled horns of sculpted ivory. She had been given the captain's katana as well, and though she had yet to learn any actual kenjutsu, the academy style and a natural affinity afforded her well enough with the weapon in hand. Her ninjato rested on the opposite hip, and her kris was sheathed up her sleeve. 

         All in all, she looked a proper samurai. Her men? Not so much. They were more rabble than warrior.

        The unfortunate guard from the gate was the most impressive looking of the soldiers, but the rangy, wiry man with the scar on his cheek and the beak-nose seemed the most dangerous. The majority carried with them an airs of extreme mediocrity, but looks, she supposed, could be deceiving. A few of them might prove capable, when the time for killing came. A few of the bowmen seemed to have some wits about them, by the sharp gleam of their eyes.

        The last of them were true fodder; three were young and green, big farmboys with spears and tall shields, the fourth an obvious coward, by his frightened quivering and the smell of piss that hung about him like a cloak. Mamushi would probably kill him herself before something else did. With her kriss, she was thinking, so his death would be properly painful. 

        Two tan mares had been brushed, bridled; saddled, and reined; with her riding as the company's captain, she would march them to the dead farmers abode and scout the forest from there. She was a decent enough tracker with her bloodline, and where she might have trouble hunting skilled ninja, tracking a bunch of bandits would most likely be much simpler. They didn't know half the tricks that shinobi did.

        "You two," she said, gesturing to the two she had picked out, "what are your names." She donned the snarling, blood-red soment, its nose long and sharp, its teeth carved to sharp points inside a grinning mouth.

        "Watanabo Ichigari," the burly one said, his thick neck bruised from where she had jabbed him. He had a heavy nodachi strapped to his back, sheathed in slate-blue sharksin, and a wicked flail coiled at his waist. He was closer to seven feet than six, and three hundred pounds easy, thick with muscle and flesh all over. 

        "Shintaro," the scarred one intoned. He offered no surname, and carried both a katana and a wakizashi. His scaled armor was worn and rusted in places, but offered more protection than the padded leather the rest wore.

        When she spoke, her voice was a harsh hiss, like her grandfather's used to be. "Mount up, Shintaro. Ichigari, you will lead the footmen."

        If Ichigari felt that he should be the one to ride, he kept his feelings to himself. He bowed low and turned to shout at the men to ready up. Already armed and armored, the men formed up quickly enough, arranging themselves in three lines, spear tips glinting beneath the sun. 

        Clad in her fine armor, somen etched with a visage straight from the depths of hell, slight form bulked by her raiment, Mamushi looked a true fright. She spurred her horse to a walk, and the tan mare whinnied. "Lead the way, Shintaro."

        They exited the town through the south gate, the wide, rutted road rolling through the terraced hills and wheat farms, brume swirling thin and wispy in the sky above.
                                        

                        

        Mamushi waited while Hidechi gathered himself enough to speak. She took the time to look over the room. He had an authentic Kumagashi painting hanging on one of the faces of the six pillars that dominated the center of the room, an Otori on another. A section of the was depressed,with a short stair cutting down into the space; she saw a television set peaking over the edge of the floor, speakers, a lava lamp. Her eyes roved. There were statuettes on a table beneath the wall, vine-like plants in gilded braziers hanging in above. The desk on the far end of the room was carved of heavy oak, naked women and leaping fish etched into the wood. The countryside under Sakegawa's protection sprawled beyond the window, golden fields and rice paddies dappling the plains.

        When she turned back to Hidechi, he was staring at her, hate burning in his eyes. "Shinobi-san," he began, voice hard, "I do not know what I have done to warrant this aggression. Allow me to make amends."

        It was the stalest apology Mamushi had ever heard. Her fingers twitched to choke him again out of pure annoyance, but she stayed her hand, instead letting it morph into a hissing snake. The look in his eyes changed then, like she knew it would. He gulped, jowls jiggling, leaning back into the couch as if to escape her.

        She reached out, caressed his face with her slithering appendage. "Why haven't you caught this "bomber"? You have the men. A town of this size can support a decent militia."

        'Y-y-you have seen the s-st-streets. They a-are empty..." he trailed off as the snake began to coil slowly about his arms and chest.

        "Keep going. I assume you were about to tell me why?" Mamushi was enjoying this.

        "Brigands," he blurted. "Months back. Th-th-they came through, killed my men. Over a third. And my predecessor too." He stopped, shuddering as scales glided over his face. "An-an-an-and I sent men after them! Thirty horsemen. Then my spies came to me with whisperings." He seemed to gain confidence as he weaved his tale. "One of the formers was some sort of chemist, they said, and he'd been collecting feces for bombs."

        "To blow up Konoha."

        He hesitated, and the snake wound around him tightened. "Certainly the town," he said in a rush. 

        "The mission docket says he means to blow up Konoha."

        "I did not request the mission! It wasn't me!"

        "Then who?"

        "I did," a voice rang out from the door. Mamushi frowned; that door was supposed to be locked.

        The voice belonged to a woman. Her hair was pale blond and wavy, her eyes honey brown. She was tall and sharp-featured, clad in a wine colored business suit complete with heels that clicked loudly as she stalked closer. Mamushi shifted her summation of Sakegawa. Seems HIdechi was indeed inept - it was his secretary who ran the town. 

        "When the horsemen did not return within a week I suspected that they had deserted. With a weak militia, a weak ruler, and an empty treasury, the town was doomed. Luckily for us the deserters continued south."

        Mamushi considered that it was very likely her other mission, in southern Hi no Kuni, was to deal with this men.

        "Right around that time," the woman began anew, closer now, "we began to receive reports of a crazed farmer who had swore to avenge the destruction of his home. Vengeance on the vile Konoha-nin, were his words. I suspected the bandits might make use of his explosives, if his threats had any truth to them." She paused, shoved the slumbering girl against Hidechi, and settled against the cushions."He set off a bomb in the forest," she continued, "but nothing was hurt save a few trees. I had him tracked from there." She crossed her legs, folded her arms. "He was found dead in his homestead just last night, wife, children, even his dog. Their was evidence that he had created hundreds of bombs, but we found none. I had already sent off for a ninja at that point, primarily for precautionary measures, and it seems like I was right to do so. The situation is possibly more dire, now, and the paltry men we have can't handle the problem alone."


        Mamushi smiled her wide, savage smile, and the woman smiled back. "And your name..."

        "Mai, if it please you, kuniochi-san. Muto Mai."

        Mamushi's snake released Hidechi, who immediately pushed to his feet and scuttled away, tripping to the floor. "Please to meet you Mai-san. I am called Mamushi."

        The forest sprawled green and wild as far as Mamushi's eyes could see. She sped through the trees, sun beating down from above. The deep wood was singing. Baby hawks chirped in the gnarled boughs of a colossal oak. Somewhere deeper in the trees, monkeys were hooting and howling. A boa hissed at her as she passed, bright lime green and coiled about a thick branch. The undergrowth was painted in mottled swaths of green and brown.

        Soon the forests would level out into terraced hills and winding streams. A vast river cut southeast through the center of Hi no Kuni, fed from headwaters in the vast mountain ranges in the north and the west. Tributaries joined it from all over, and nestled between all of them were hundreds of farming and fishing villages and towns. They humped the hills and dotted the roads, clumps of brick and timber homes and stores and mud huts, some surrounded by wooden walls, some stone, some brick. A few towns had buildings wrought of steel and stone and plaster, but these were the larger towns, where the streets were paved and electrical wiring hung above the roads.

        Sakegawa sat astride a calm river choked with reeds and sandbars. Beyond it's meager brick walls, spreading southward from the town, were leagues and leagues of farm land, humped with rice paddies and orchards. She leaped down from the trees some ways away from the village and walked the rest of the way on foot, face shadowed beneath a straw conical hat. The gate into Sakegawa was closed and guarded by two men-at-arms who were armored in leather, spears in one hand, shields in the other. They perked up when they saw Mamushi approaching.

        "Halt!" The big one on the left shouted as he barred her path. His face bore old scars and pockmarks, and he stank. "What is your business in Sakegawa?"

        "Just a traveler passing through," Mamushi replied. "Goin' down to Takayama for the races."

        "The town is on lockdown. No one in, no one out. You'll have to go around. There's a detour through the forest." He stepped forward, trying to intimidate her with his size and breadth.

        Mamushi tilted back her hat and let her headband show. The swirled leaf of Konoha was etched into the steal band.

        His eyes widened. "Ahh, Shinobi-san. my apologies. The headsman has been awaiting your arrival."

        "Mention my arrival to no one," Mamushi hissed, barely holding in her giggle when he paled. "It'll not do to have my quarry know I'm after him." The fool might get anxious, set off a bomb. She didn't care if a bunch of villagers died, but it would look bad on her mission record.

        "Hidechi-sama gave strict  orders to be alerted whenever you arrived," the burly guard argued. He turned, opened his mouth to shout at his fellow lounging against the wall; Mamushi jabbed him in the throat and disappeared in a swirl of wind and leaves, shunshining beyond him.

        The second guard started to turn towards her - she jumped, kneed him in the face, and he crumpled to the ground.

        "Tell no one," she said, raising her voice above their groans, "or I'll have to come find you. Agreed?"

        "Agreed," the first guard wheezed. "We won't-" he stopped, coughed, "we won't tell anyone."

        "Promise me."

        "I promise," he managed. "Won't tell a soul. Matter fact, who am I even talking to?" He looked away from her, hand pressed to his throat. His comrade had passed out, so she kicked him for good measure.

        And then she leaped the wall and vanished into the town bustling town.

        The day was young, and shinobi from all throughout the village were making their way to the training grounds beyond the village sprawl. Mamushi was no different. Black sleeves billowing behind her, she sprinted across a road of branches to the outskirts of the village, the dense canopy above like a great green sky. Every meadow she passed was occupied. She thought she might try the clearing with the beat-up old tree, but there were people there too. A man, a young woman, and a cat.

        Cats weren't so cute and delicious as kittens, and she wasn't hungry, but she stopped all the same. The man was tall - a couple inches taller than Mamushi herself, she reckoned - and dark, slim and slender as a blade. Most likely an archer, she reckoned, unless he went around with a bow for fun. The girl was short and pale, her hair a shock of black and white, split straight down the middle. Her eyes were different too, one black, one purple. She had added a few more scars to the tree with those daggers of hers. Poor tree, Mamushi thought. This slow torture was cruel. Better to burn it dead and be done with it.

        Mamushi had never been one for group activities, so she surprised herself when she dropped down into the clearing and slinked over to the duo. Her hood was down, shaggy blonde hair framing a face dominated by two slitted yellow eyes. Her formless cloak dragged against the ground, collecting dirt as it trailed behind her.

        "Kon'nichiwa," she announced, looking from man to woman to cat and back, thin lips spread in a wide smile. Too wide. Her mother had always said it was proper etiquette to give your name when meeting new people, even if you intended to kill them. Mamushi was a  black-hearted rogue, but she proscribed to proper etiquette all the same. She wasn't a complete savage. "I'm Mamushi."