Mission: Unfinished Business [Private]

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

• Unfinished Business •

Mission: Unfinished Business [Private] Cliffs11

• Preceded By •
Pirates and Ships and Drugs… Oh My!

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“I still fail to see why you did not simply kill her on the spot.”

“What can I say? Maybe she was too much for our men to handle.”

“A novice shinobi - who conspicuously strolls up to one of your strongholds and literally announces her presence - was “too much to handle” for the scores of armed, seasoned, formidable warriors that were guarding the place?”

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess it is a wonder why we let her live.”

Masquerade sighed inaudibly, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. His irked expression was hidden by the misleading mask, but his body language made his annoyance apparent. Across from him, the older brown-haired man was casually slurping his ramen, seemingly less perturbed than the Nukenin. Masquerade and Fugaku were seated in a private booth in a corner of a restaurant, detached from the hustle and bustle of the other customers by wooden partitions; thus, they were given a semblance to privacy. Privacy that was much needed, for the topic of the two men’s discussion was a rather sensitive one. Masquerade had been instructed to meet up with Fugaku in this eatery, and despite the apparently eased manner in which the older man devoured his bowl of food, this was still a serious meeting. One that had been called to discuss recent developments, of which Masquerade was heavily involved.

The previous day, a certain kunoichi had approached one of the bases of the Yoshino Hibiki’s business. How exactly the shinobi had managed to locate and single out a place that was supposedly well-secluded was anyone’s guess, but that was not the main issue here. The problem was that this kunoichi had walked straight up to the gates of the establishment, and had declared authoritatively that she would reveal sensitive information about Hibiki’s clandestine dealings if her demands were not met. Rather than shoot an arrow through her skull, the commanding officer of the base had allowed her to continue speaking. The kunoichi’s demands had been simple: she wanted the Nukenin that Yoshino had hired for a mission three days ago to face her in battle at a certain time and place. If he did not show up, then she would go to her boss and reveal that Hibiki had been spying on her. The shinobi’s boss being Hibiki’s business rival, this would have been a highly undesirable outcome. So, when Yoshino had heard word of this, what had he done? Instead of burying the kunoichi under a sea of arrows, he had agreed to her demands.

Such was how Masquerade had been contacted by Fugaku a few hours later to meet up in the restaurant, where the whole situation was explained to him. And such was how Masquerade was told that he had to go and confront this kunoichi, and fight her like she had stated. After hearing the entire story, the Nukenin was understandably perplexed as to why Hibiki had not done the sensible thing and killed the kunoichi when he had the chance.

“And here I had formed the impression that Yoshino Hibiki was a sensible man. This event you have just narrated seems to suggest otherwise, though.”

“Who knows? Maybe he took a liking to the girl.” Fugaku smirked, swallowing a heavy mouthful of soggy noodles. “Or maybe… He wanted to give you the chance to correct your mistake, seeing as you let that girl live after she found out you where tailing her group on that island. I mean, really, what the hell were you thinking when you did that?”

Masquerade grimaced, turning his head away slightly to avoid looking at the incredulous look Fugaku was giving him. In hindsight, leaving her alive may not have been the best idea, after all. “I presumed she would keep her mouth shut.”

Dark eyes rolled beneath thick eyebrows as Fugaku heard these words. He pointed his chopsticks at Masquerade, now displaying signs of irritation, too. “Well, you presumed wrong. She’s not going to keep her mouth shut. Not unless you go and face her. What’s her problem, anyway? What did you do her, huh?”

Again, direct eye contact was blatantly avoided. “I may have been instrumental in the death of her partner… who was the one to discover that I was spying on them…”

The statement was made evasively, as if admitting this was something that shamed the Nukenin; or perhaps, would only provoke Fugaku into a more angered state. However, the balding brunette did not flip out in rage, instead scratching his cheek in thought. “Oh, so it’s a grudge match. Simple vengeance. That makes much more sense. I thought it might have been something serious.” Fugaku did not elaborate on what exactly he considered to be “serious” in comparison to a desire for vengeance. Instead, he nodded to himself, suddenly clapping his hands at Masquerade. “Okay then: hop to it! Go kick her ass! Not that I condone violence against women or anything, but you know: orders are orders!” He chuckled softly, picking up his bowl and chugging the liquid remains down in one go. Once he was done, he replaced the bowl on the table and wiped his grinning mouth clean with a napkin. As the white cloth was removed from his mouth, a grim look had adorned his wrinkled features. He looked steadily at Masquerade, his voice no longer laidback or cheery, but completely opposite in quality. “But seriously. This is no joke. If that girl squeals to her boss, then we’re looking at the worst-case scenario here. Should Shinji Uteki find out that Yoshino-dono sent you to spy on her operation, then all Hell’s gonna break loose; and the ensuing mess won’t be something that can be cleaned up. I don’t care what you do: go meet up with this “Koshou Niwa”, and make sure she keeps her mouth shut. Take care of it.”

Masquerade tapped his fingers thoughtfully against his arms, which were still crossed over his chest. “Hmm, yeeesss... It would be rather problematic if that kunoichi was to disclose any sensitive information. I suppose we should consider it fortunate that she has displayed the idiocy of not sharing her knowledge with Shinji Uteki, prior to demanding a match with me,” he drawled, no doubt deep in contemplation. A sigh sounded from behind the white mask as it was raised to look at the man across the table. “Very well. Rest assured, I shall handle this mess I’ve created.”

The other man nodded, rising to his feet and slipping on his overcoat. “A word of warning: if Shinji Uteki does learn about what happened on Tomoe Shima, then you can bet she’ll be coming after you as well. And when that happens, Yoshino-dono’s not going to be on your side either. If it comes down to it, you’ll have to deal with both Yoshino-dono and Shinji Uteki’s fury. So trust me when I say this: you do not want to screw this up.”

With those ominous words, the liaison departed. Masquerade remained in his seat for a few seconds in silence. As if I needed further incentive, he thought to himself, getting up and heading out of the restaurant, too. The rush in the eatery made his exit reassuringly discreet; he did not even have to worry about any of the staff drawing attention to him by bidding him farewell or offering their thanks. Stepping out into the sunlight, he thrust his hands into his trouser pockets and marched down the busy street, disappearing into the throng of people walking through the town. Once he had used the crowd to find himself a secluded location behind a menagerie, he reached into his pocket and unfolded a sheet of paper that Fugaku had given him at the start of their meeting. On it were scrawled a few words, the handwriting neat and blatantly feminine, with emphasized curls and everything. The gist of the text was a detailing of a place for Masquerade to head to, and the time by which he should arrive. He was to come alone. The message was simple and straightforward. Returning the paper to its folded state, he pocketed it and set off from his hiding spot.

Koshou Niwa… It seemed he had some unfinished business to attend to with her.

Joyous, he thought unenthusiastically. He always thought people who obsessed over revenge were a pain.

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

Truthfully, he knew he was the one at fault here. Neither Hibiki nor his men had screwed up as much as Masquerade had. For starters, he had been explicitly told not to be detected while he was following Uteki’s shipment of drugs; for most of the mission, it had been going rather well. He’d managed to stay out of sight, and it had seemed that he would complete his task without any complications. That changed when he was signaled out by that Nukenin, Inuzuka Kegawa. Thankfully, Kegawa had kept the discovery to himself, justifying his secrecy with the reasoning that alerting the drug traders at that very moment would cause a panic, and ultimately ruin the day’s business. Kegawa had ended up taking the knowledge of Masquerade’s presence to his grave, but he had not been the only one to learn of the latter’s involvement. No. The Inuzuka had had a partner, the rogue kunoichi named Koshou Niwa. The Seinen had seen Masquerade as well, and knew that he had been spying on Uteki’s workers. And she had seen the mutilated mess that was Kegawa’s corpse. Whether or not she knew that Masquerade had not been the one to maim her partner’s dead body like that was beyond the masked Nukenin’s knowledge; regardless, Masquerade was certain that the reason the kunoichi had called him out for a match was to avenge her fallen comrade. He should not have been surprised that it had come to this. The despair and horror with which Niwa had looked at Kegawa’s corpse… No wonder she wanted retribution. And she had decided to seek it upon Masquerade. How bothersome.

Masquerade was not one to enjoy fighting. In fact, it was the part of being a shinobi that he disliked the most. Face-to-face, straightforward spars were not his preference. He preferred to attack from the shadows, using stealth and trickery; like a shinobi was supposed. The simple reason for this was that it was easier to ensure one’s survival when one fought with deception in hand, rather than out in the open, where one was in plain view of the enemy. Such was why he had initially been loath to the idea of confronting Koshou Niwa, even if she was of a lower rank than he. Inferior, superior, or equal, it did not matter. Masquerade was averse to fighting in general, irrespective of the rank of his opponent. He was not a pacifist. He was just someone who prioritized self-protection.

In this case, however, he was willing to make an exception. He would fight this revenge-driven girl on her terms, primarily because he had to ensure her continued silence anyway. As Fugaku had put it, if Niwa informed her employer, Uteki, about Masquerade's involvement in Hibiki’s plan, then the Nukenin would have to deal with the power and influence of one of Mizu no Kuni’s most fearsome drug lords. That was not the most logical way to ensure his survival. Accepting Niwa’s challenge was tantamount to guaranteeing that he did not provoke any life-threatening furies.

The roar of the wind and the crashing of waves filled Masquerade’s covered ears as he slowly and unhurriedly walked up the slight incline towards the edge of the cliffs. His arms were folded behind his back, the wrist of one hand gripping that of the other. A cool, oncoming breeze attacked his clothes, causing the loose ends to submit to their force. Bright, unhindered rays from the Sun fell upon his head, the baggy hood throwing a theatrical shadow upon the white mask underneath, and preventing the natural light from reaching the upper half of the face wear. The bottom of his coat billowed behind him as he reached the top of the incline, and came to a stop just a few paces away from the figure standing by the cliff’s edge. The magenta-haired girl turned around from the view of the sea ahead and towards Masquerade. The sea breeze blowing from the sea beyond was causing her vibrantly colored locks to whip around as she turned in Masquerade’s direction. She was dressed in the same apparel as on Tomoe Shima - save for the addition of the scratched Konoha forehead protector on her right arm, just below her own Takigakure one. Her face was grim, her fists clenched in resolution, and her demeanor solemn. In contrast, the male’s casual stance and smiling mask made him seem far more placid than her.

There was no one else on the cliffs but the two of them. Well, that was not, strictly speaking, completely true. In a sense, there was someone else in the vicinity aside from Masquerade and Niwa. With his mind, the male Nukenin swept the area in search of the chakra signature he knew was hiding nearby. A short distance away in a patch of trees, a Kage Bunshin of Masquerade lay in secluded wait; a precautionary measure employed by the Teinei. The Kage Bunshin was there to keep an eye on the real Masquerade’s surroundings, to ensure that no surprises sprang up on him. Despite how much his past actions might imply, Masquerade was not a fool. He knew that there was quite a plausible chance that Niwa might have set up a trap or two in the area prior to his arrival. It was what he would have done. Besides, the cognizant Bunshin could also serve as a little surprise of his own, should this encounter take a turn for the worse. There was no such thing as being too careful.

The cliffs they stood upon had little to no cover, with the only vegetation being several yards behind Masquerade, where the aforesaid Bunshin was concealed. Really, if Masquerade had wanted to take his opponent out with a stealth attack, it would have been rather tricky with the lack of cover; this was probably why she had chosen this as the venue for the match. Disregarding the obvious perils that came from fighting on a cliff, it was a laudable bit of foresight. But back to the setting description. The combatants’ footing was of stone, and set at a slight angle, though not enough to be that much of a hindrance. Given their location, there was obviously a sudden drop in the ground as the cliff ended, and said drop was but a few feet from where Niwa currently stood. How easily this would end if he was to simply push her off the cliff… Or if she just jumped off herself…

“Koshou Niwa,” Masquerade greeted, though he did not bow or alter his stance one bit in conjunction with the salutation. Likewise, Niwa did not move either, or even say anything in reply. It seemed she was not in a talkative mood, focused solely on her objective. Wonderful. Smirking invisibly, the masked individual slowly and obviously shifted his head from side to side, emphasizing the fact that he was taking in the scenery. His gravelly, wheezy voice held an entertained quality while he gestured to the empty setting. “I must admit, this is quite the suitable site for a fight. The area is open and isolated, and there is little chance for collateral damage - inanimate or human. Though, I do question the prudence in fighting so close to a perilous drop…” His speech faded as he directed his attention to the sheer drop behind Niwa. Really, if he had the right jutsu, he could have easily pushed her off the edge at this very moment.

Once again, Niwa remained silent. If looks could kill, then… well, everyone knew how the saying went. Masquerade pursed his lips thoughtfully behind the cover of his mask. Indeed, the kunoichi was supremely focused on the task at hand. She did not appear to have any interest in, or time for, anything other than forthcoming combat. Payback had seized control of her entirely, and had fixated her mind on nothing else. It was quite similar to the one-track mind Masquerade adopted during his missions: completion was the priority. Unsurprisingly, this “eyes on the prize” mindset resulted in inconveniences to many around him; and his latest mission had been no exception. The angered teenage girl standing before him was living proof of that (the other proof was dead).

Masquerade bowed his head forward slightly, diverting his green eyes from Niwa’s piercing grays. “I realize this might not be the best moment to say this, but… Is this really necessary? This match?” Despite the smile on his mask, the quality of his voice was not one of humor or amusement, but strangely solemn; glum, even. The hooded head was lifted up. “I know you blame me for Inuzuka Kegawa’s death. I know that you are driven by a desire for retribution. However, do you truly believe that this will give you the solace you need? Is the risk really worth the effort?”

It would be hard for an outsider, or anyone who was not Masquerade, to know whether he was speaking sincerely, or if this was just some elaborate ruse to get Niwa to cancel the fight. Certainly, the fact that his actual expression could not be seen might lead one to be suspicious of deception. That was the entire point in wearing a mask, after all: to hide what was actually there. So, it was really no surprise when Niwa did not seem convinced by Masquerade’s supposed show of commiseration. The kunoichi's first reaction was to raise her hand and coolly show him the finger. Her next return was to scowl at Masquerade in disgust, as if he was a vermin. The look alone conveyed her view of the male Nukenin.

“Chickening out, huh? I figured you were a coward, but not to this extent. Aren’t you supposed to be ranked higher than me? Or did you just get where you are now through pure luck?” She aimed a finger at Masquerade’s face with the same ferocity one used when hammering in a peg. “This fight isn’t going to be cancelled, shitface. We’re doing this - for Kegawa-kun’s sake, and because I’ll tell Uteki about Hibiki’s plan if we don’t. And you won’t like my boss when she’s pissed.”

Another bird was directed at Masquerade. He did not say anything.

Amazing. Simply amazing. What person said those kinds of things prior to the start of a battle? Who would be stupid enough to provoke a potential enemy like this? By declaring what would happen to Masquerade should he refuse to fight, Niwa was more or less giving him a justification for killing her. In fact, she had pretty much sealed her fate the moment she had tried to blackmail Hibiki. Whether it was the drug lord or the shinobi who performed the execution, the fact of the matter was that Niwa had forfeited her life when she had proven herself to be such a liability. Did she have any notion of the consequences of her actions? The male did not know. The girl had been acting perplexingly enough to make her a troublesome person to read. Yes, she had called this fight in order to avenge her fallen comrade; but as she had implied, Masquerade was more experienced as a shinobi than she was. Of course, the self-deprecating Masquerade would never openly admit that he was in a league above Niwa’s (he might be more inclined to say that they could be on equal footing at best), but even he was surprised that she was trying to exact her plan for revenge so quickly. The last person who had sworn a vendetta against the Nukenin had taken at least five years to see it through. Kumoi Juudai… That Sunagakure shinobi had had spent his days training and honing his skills to reach a level that was humiliatingly superior to Masquerade’s.

The point was: this Suna shinobi, who had also held a grudge against Masquerade, had patiently waited until he was more than strong enough to beat the Nukenin before challenging him. Yet, this kunoichi here had only waited three days. Remarkable. Masquerade had to stop himself from clapping sardonically. Either she had the unanticipated skill to back such boldness, or she had a death wish. In either case, Masquerade had no choice but to indulge Niwa in her wishes; even if his moralistic side was trying to dissuade him from harming a female. Masquerade sighed audibly, his shoulders slumping slightly as he bowed his head in apparent disappointment. Conflict was inevitable, it seemed. What a shame. Collectedly, he raised his head and spread his arms apart slowly, voicing his thoughts in a monotonous drawl.

“Very well, then. Let’s get this over with.”

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Jutsu Used:

Special Characteristics Used:

Chakra Remaining:

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

Although his words implied that he was prepared to commence the fight, Masquerade did not actually proceed with a first move. He stood his ground, arms spread apart, as if he was making himself an easier target for the opposing shinobi. Niwa did not reject his courteous act, flinging forth a pair of kunai at the male. The explosive tags tied to the ends of the knives were obvious to the eye, and Masquerade’s eyes certainly widened at the sight of them. Through his mind flashed the memory and phantom pain of having his body viciously ripped apart by the force of several explosive tags, giving him more than enough motivation to avoid the attack. His body had already moved instinctively upon seeing the approaching danger, however, so the traumatic memory served no purpose other than to be a nuisance. Masquerade cartwheeled out of the way of the thrown kunai, succeeding in getting well out of the blast radius of the tags when they reached his former location. The explosion was briefly glanced towards by the Nukenin before he switched his attention to the area over his shoulder. Two Niwas were rushing at him, unarmed but with poses set for attack. Barely any trouble arose in discerning which one was the true Niwa, and which was a Bunshin. Therefore, Masquerade did not even flinch as the first Niwa phased right through him. For the second Niwa, he sidestepped the spin-then-punch she threw at his sternum, this being the highest she could reach while keeping her punch horizontal.

As Masquerade nimbly stepped out of the way of Niwa’s right-handed blow, he simultaneously drew out a kunai of his own with his left hand. The metal tip of the weapon was thrust at the girl’s vulnerable face, arching down from an upwards angle. Rather than contacting with soft flesh, however, the kunai was met with the armored pieces on Niwa’s left arm. The kunoichi had been quick enough to block the attack with her free arm. Admirable. A shrill clang had pierced the air as the metal items clashed together, grinding against each other for a moment. With a resolute fire in her eyes, Niwa pushed the kunai off her arm and seemed to unbalance the other shinobi long enough to launch a sweeping, high kick towards his face. This move failed to hit its mark, too: the masked Nukenin’s right hand had thrust sideways across his chest, the spidery hand spreading its bony fingers to firmly grasp the girl’s toned shin. The overall result was that Masquerade stopped the trajectory of Niwa’s leg as it came within half a foot of his face. The kunoichi grimaced angrily; the masked shinobi looked to be all smiles.

“Fuck you.”

“Flattering.”

A twist of his wrist, and the leg was driven away from his face. The unbalanced girl stumbled backwards as she tried to keep her footing. Masquerade had taken a step back as he had destabilized his opponent’s stance, his left arm swinging upwards in synchrony to toss the kunai it still held at its target. Since the female was too close to the male to dodge, the weapon embedded itself into her right shoulder, producing a gasp of pain from the girl. When Niwa regained her balance, her face was suddenly met with a gloved hand: Masquerade had shot forward once his weapon had hit its mark, his left hand extending forward to clasp the girl’s pretty face in a vice-like grip. The follow-up was to use his momentum to push the kunoichi off her feet and slam her down onto the stone ground. The five-legged insect that was his hand swiftly moved down to curl its legs around Niwa’s neck. While tightening his grip and keeping the gagging girl pinned down, his right hand pulled out yet another kunai. This one was brought down once again towards his victim’s face - and once again, it was met with metal as opposed to flesh. In a show of quick wit, Niwa had yanked the kunai in her right shoulder out with that side’s hand, prior to bringing it round to counter Masquerade’s strike.

“Get - OFF ME!” The shrill cry was punctuated with a fierce kick to Masquerade’s shin, resulting in a hiss of pain sounding from the Nukenin. He instinctively let go off Niwa, kicking off from the ground and backing away from her. Granting himself about twenty-some feet of breathing room, he looked away from the coughing Niwa pushing herself to her feet, and down at his throbbing leg. The damage appeared to be minor; nothing that would impede his ability to fight or move. Regardless, that kick had hurt. Though, Niwa would probably say the same about the manner in which Masquerade had smashed her head into the ground, or his sequential attempt to choke her. Indeed, his hand had left a visible, red imprint on her neck. He was sure his own leg would be bruised by this time tomorrow. Whining aside, the brawl had come to a brief pause. Both participants looked at each other. They weren’t tired, but they were definitely irked. The match had only just begun, and neither shinobi was ready to yield to the other. Niwa, in particular, looked commendably determined as she adopted a battle-ready stance, completely ignoring the blood dripping out of the wound on her shoulder. She had made no effort to bind the injury; the tear was not deep enough to be lethal, or shallow enough to be a flesh wound. Any pain she might have been experiencing, whether from the kunai wound or the failed strangling, was lost in the ferocity of her resolution. Evidently, defeating Masquerade was the sole thought in the girl’s mind. Great.

“You’re Taijutsu skills are quite impressive, Koshou Niwa,” Masquerade complimented. “There is room for improvement, yes - but you have some talent nonetheless.”

Niwa was not flattered by the praise. “Go to hell.”

Charming.

Truly, his opponent cared for nothing other than to inflict harm on Masquerade; she was not even going to make idle conversation. The male smirked behind his mask. If that was the case, he supposed he may as well have her work hard towards that end. Without prior warning, the kunai departed from his right hand as he flung it casually at Niwa; the younger ninja barely had to move an inch to dodge it. But the succeeding move was what mattered, not the measly kunai toss. A quick set of handseals, and he lazily announced the words to the air: “Raiton • Raidama.” A foot-wide orb of electricity materialized level with his chest, and shot forward instantly at the alert kunoichi. With a duck and roll, Niwa moved out of the sphere’s path, a result that Masquerade had been anticipating. While the crackling sphere continued its path ignored, Niwa had bolted towards Masquerade at the conclusion of her roll. A pair of shuriken were visibly clutched in her hand as she charged at the taller man; they were hurled towards the male Nukenin a moment later. Masquerade titled his head forward slightly, surely smirking behind the smiling mask. He cool-headedly took a step to the side to ensure the star-shaped projectiles missed, all while keeping his vigilant gaze on Niwa.

As it turned out, he should have been paying closer attention to the shuriken: a smoke pellet was lodged in the hollow center of each spinning projectile, and the gas within was released as the shuriken sailed passed Masquerade. The resultant cloud of smoke enveloped the Nukenin and obscured his vision. Masquerade blinked in surprise, mentally scorning himself for the show of stupidity. Before he could backpedal out of the cloud, a foot cut through the smoke from below to collide squarely with his chest. The kick displaced him vertically and sent him flying out of the cloud. Sailing through the air, his teeth gritted to signify the increasing frustration he felt at himself. This was just inexcusably stupid of him. Luckily, he was not beating himself up so badly that he did not notice how Niwa suddenly appeared underneath him, also hovering in the air and following his flight - as if she was his shadow. Anyone who was familiar with Taijutsu would recognize that the kunoichi was using the Konoha Kage Buyo technique. Masquerade did not know what it was called, or even that it existed. All he knew was that it was rather marvelous how this maneuver allowed a shinobi to break the laws of physics. Truly spectacular.

However, his awe would have to be set aside for another time - like when he wasn’t floating precariously in the air with his opponent directly underneath. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw said opponent bring her leg swinging round to smash into his upper arm. There was surely a sense of déjà vu as Masquerade blocked the attack by grabbing Niwa’s leg with the hand of the very arm she was trying to hit. No sooner had he blocked the kick, when he caught sight of a punch coming at him from the same side. The simplest course of action was for Masquerade to counter this as well, which he did: his free arm bent awkwardly (and rather grossly) over his head to connect his splayed palm with the fist. He was getting sick of this very quickly. And then the next punch came his way, and he opted to try something other than blocking. Niwa was defying gravity, and so could he.

Niwa was surely astounded when the purple wings shimmered into existence from his shoulder blades. Using the stability provided by his wings and the support from holding onto his attacker, Masquerade pushed himself away from Niwa and out of the way of the punch. While he calmly righted himself and floated effortlessly in midair, Niwa finally succumbed to the normally-unrelenting force of gravity. The added force that Masquerade had exerted on her when he had propelled himself away only added to the speed with which she fell. A rather loud impact concluded the fall, and the kunoichi lay on the stone for a few seconds afterwards. Her wincing confirmed that she was still alive, but the pain was clearly strong enough to break through her wall of determination. Then again, the weakness was only temporary, for the young ninja was soon back on her feet, battle-worn but otherwise unaffected by the failed attack. Several meters above and well out of Niwa’s reach, Masquerade hovered wordlessly, waiting for his opponent to finish “walking it off”. By the looks of it, someone had trained themselves to withstand a sufficient amount of punishment. If he was going to take her down, he was probably going to have to be a little more… vicious.

“Raiton • Mori no Ikazuchi.”

The casually-stated words heralded the sequence of Masquerade slamming his hands together, and instantly pulling them apart to generate a five-foot-long spear of electricity; which he promptly hurled straight at the stationary Niwa. The lance cut through the air at a startling speed, eating the gap between its thrower and its target. Noticing this, Niwa cursed loudly and broke out into a sprint. Good fortune was on her side, since she proved to be quick enough to avoid the spear despite her injuries. However, by focusing on the lance’s approach, she had not seen the two senbon that were flying towards her from above. The needles would have been invisible if the Sun’s rays were not reflecting of them; regardless, the senbon zipped by the girl’s ear in a clear miss, but that was the intended effect. The needles were not the main issue here - it was what was tied to each senbon that presented the true danger. Niwa’s eyes would expand in dread while Masquerade’s unseen smirk would widen in triumph; he formed a single handseal, and the explosive tags detonated at point-blank range.

“Katsu.”

Fire engulfed Niwa as the booming sound reached Masquerade. While he could not see the girl because of the flames obscuring her, he could sense her chakra still. Descending to a lower height but still remaining airborne, Masquerade titled his head to the side and crossed his arms as he waited for Niwa to surface. Though he did not notice them specifically, a flurry of pink flower petals came floating up from the fireball at the same time that Niwa’s chakra signature flickered away from the depths of the flames. Masquerade kept his gaze fixed on the dying blaze, though his senses had already alerted him to the true danger. Niwa had appeared behind him; still on the ground, but behind him nonetheless. Though the flying Nukenin would label the move as a Kawarami, it had actually been a successful execution of a Genjutsu.

No doubt, Niwa had been hoping to use her disguised escape to sneak up on her opponent. Obviously, that was not going to work. The vindictive kunoichi appeared to not have realized yet that her opponent could sense her presence in some way or the other. Clearly, she was not that informed of the diverse traits that a shinobi could possess, and she must not have researched her opponent as thoroughly as she ought to have.

Her inexperience meant that she was caught off-guard when the barrage of shuriken she threw up at Masquerade missed widely; the airborne Nukenin had spun around to dive right down at her at the exact moment she released the projectiles. Like the flying insect he so eerily resembled, Masquerade swooped down towards the girl and snatched her up into the air, using his momentum to lift her from the ground. The thrown kunoichi arched through the air before colliding with the ground, and kept rolling thanks to inertia. She came to a stop dangerously close to the cliff’s edge. Niwa cursed and leaped to her feet, during which Masquerade “loop-the-looped” to return back to the earth. His “smile” accurately conveyed the amusement he felt in regards to the loathing glare that Niwa was throwing him. It was no doubt becoming apparent to the girl that the male was not actually fighting seriously, but was toying with her instead. In fact, the very fact that Masquerade had not killed or incapacitated Niwa before the fight had actually begun was proof that he had not come here with the intent to treat this as a serious fight. Definitely not as seriously as Niwa was treating it. Suffice it to say, this realization was angering the kunoichi even further, which was a source of more amusement for Masquerade.

“What the hell are you doing, Kai? I thought you didn’t waste time doing illogical things? Toying around with her isn’t exactly the smartest thing to do right now.”

Fear not, Shichibi. This is all part of the plan.

“Plan? What plan? What kind of a plan could possibly require you to frustrate your opponent like this? Even I’m getting annoyed just watching you play around.”

Masquerade smirked at the remark, but said nothing verbally or mentally. Mostly because Niwa was making another move: she was forming a series of handseals, which induced the other Nukenin to bring his guard up. Playing around though he may be, that was still no excuse for underestimating his opponent. Whatever jutsu she was about to use, he would be prepared to react accordingly.

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Masquerade:

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Koshou Niwa:

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Age : 31 Posts : 1836

Taijutsu and Genjutsu: these were the forms of combat that Niwa specialized in. Prior to departing for his match, Masquerade had used the few hours he had beforehand to study up on his opponent. He was aided in this by Fugaku’s foresight: when the man had met with the shinobi, he had handed him another sheet of paper along with the one that detailed the time and place of the declared challenge. On the second sheet was a brief overview of Koshou Niwa, the information primarily constituting the data in her Bingo Book profile. In summation, the profile had stated that Niwa fought using Taijutsu and Genjutsu, and that she relied on the single element of Katon. A little background information had also been included, essentially stating how the kunoichi had fled from her village not long after becoming a Genin (less than a year, in fact) with the assistance of Inuzuka Kegawa. That, in a way, explained their partnership, and why the teenage kunoichi was so adamant in avenging her comrade: she had been working with Kegawa for close to four years, it seemed. But, the only bit of information that had actually been of importance to Masquerade was the girl’s combat specs. Genjutsu and Taijutsu...

Even with this knowledge at hand, there was not much Masquerade could do with it. Taijutsu was a popular art chosen by shinobi, and thus one he had encountered more times than he could remember. Genjutsu, on the other hand, was a skill that Masquerade had little experience in dealing with. Sure, he knew of someone who was a proficient Genjutsu user, that person being his “partner-in-crime” Yuuji Subaru. However, the man rarely, if ever, showcased his adeptness with Genjutsu against Masquerade. As much as he disliked to admit it, Masquerade was not well-practiced in countering an opponent that employed illusionary attacks in combat. He knew of the existence of a couple of basic techniques, but his knowledge was otherwise measly. For sure, he had no idea that Niwa had used a Genjutsu earlier to hide her escape from the explosion, even if he knew she could use such jutsu.

“Magen • Jigoku Gouka no Jutsu!” Niwa shouted as she finished the handseal sequence. A shadow fell upon the area, growing larger by the second. Masquerade eyes flitted downwards to the expanding shadow. It was as if something was falling from the sky… He snapped his gaze skywards, and saw a massive fireball descending from the heavens towards him and Niwa. A twinge of panic passed through him at the gargantuan size of the fireball; the Nukenin took a step backwards, and went so far as to spin round on his heels to break out into an escaping run. The sole thought in his mind was to not get burned by another inferno.

Wait. Logic had him pause in mid-step the next moment as he realized the folly of his actions. This was not Ninjutsu. For one thing, the fireball was much too large for someone of Niwa’s capabilities to be conjure. Secondly, the kunoichi could not use Ninjutsu, a fact that Masquerade’s apprehension towards burning had made him temporarily forget. Thus, the enlightened Nukenin turned back and held his ground firmly as the fireball smashed down on top of him. He clenched his teeth and ignored the voice in his mind that was yelling at him to escape the fire. Instead, he sluggishly brought his hands together, and formed the single handseal for dispelling Genjutsu.

“Kai!” he hissed through a barrier of enamel. No sooner had the words exited his mouth, when the flickering orange-and-yellow tongues around him dissolved abruptly from sight. At the same time, his vision showed him a new danger. Instinct took over to have Masquerade swerve out of the way of the ninjato being thrust at his face. As Masquerade maneuvered around Niwa so that he was behind her, his hands were forming a sequence of handseals simultaneously. When Niwa spun round to charge at him with the ninjato once more, his hands were coated in a layer of chakra. Ducking under Niwa’s horizontal swipe, his hand shot forward to pat the side of Niwa’s waist before he ran under her arm and beyond. Masquerade came to a stop several feet away from his opponent and looked over his shoulder at her. The female Seinen was bent over slightly, one hand on the spot Masquerade had contacted, and the other hand clasped over her mouth. Blood could be seen dribbling out from in between the fingers covering her mouth. The masked Nukenin had sliced into Niwa’s kidney as he had made physical contact, thus causing the expulsion of blood from her mouth. Tough though she may be, the pain was certainly getting to the kunoichi now. If it was any consolation for her, the initial jab she’d made at Masquerade with her ninjato had managed to leave an artistic scratch on mask, just beneath one of the oval-shaped eye lenses.

Hands still coated in scalpels of chakra, Masquerade turned and took a step forward, which signaled to his opponent an intent to attack. Niwa glanced over at Masquerade, before leaping to her feet and breaking into a full-sprint - away from the man. Masquerade froze his stride, staring at the girl sprinting away from him as if she was frightened or something. He stood his ground for a moment, actually pondering the situation. Was she running away? Or did she want him to chase after him? If the latter, then did she really think he would be stupid enough to follow her into a potential trap?

Because I’m about to prove her right.

An abrupt transition from stationary to mobile, and Masquerade had bolted after the kunoichi. The girl had a small lead on him thanks to the male’s contemplation, but that was of little concern. He did not have to pursue the girl for long across the stone landscape, for as he had suspected, Niwa was leading him into a trap. And he unknowingly stepped right into the middle of it. Some distance from their starting point, Niwa came to an unexpected halt, and when she turned around to look back at Masquerade, her free hand was shaping into the seal for detonation. Masquerade’s eyes would flicker down to the ground when the stone beneath him vanished, replaced by a small bed of explosive tags; if he added them up, he would have counted at least fifteen. A worrying quantity. The tags glowed, and Masquerade cursed mentally, his hands flying through a series of handseals. The ensuing explosion covered quite a wide radius, certainly too wide for the Teinei to clear in such a short amount of time. The shockwave of the blast actually pushed Niwa back several paces, but she did not lose her balance. Magenta hair blowing wildly from the force of the explosion, her hardened expression watched the scene expectantly with narrowed eyes.

When the fireball dissipated, in Masquerade’s place stood a singed, earthen pyramid. The stone construct collapsed to reveal an apparently unharmed Masquerade, save for the slight singes on his apparel. Niwa looked livid while Masquerade examined his burnt clothes and the blackened, smoking circle he stood in the center of. “That was… pretty good, actually,” he applauded, sounding genuinely impressed. For the girl to have this kind of trap prepared beforehand, and even going so far as to conceal it with a Genjutsu, was quite a remarkable bit of planning on her part. That, or Masquerade was just plain idiotic for having walked into it. Probably a bit of both, he noted, content with the respective allocation of praise and deprecation. He doubted whether he would have had the foresight or resources to prepare a trap like this. Still, as impressed as he was by Niwa’s ingenuity, the fact was that Masquerade had proved quick enough to protect himself from the attack. Though, honestly, he had not been sure whether he would pull off the jutsu in time. Had his shield been a nanosecond slower in coming up… Well, one perilous experience with explosive tags was enough for him.

If anything, this move of Niwa’s had proven, more than any other so far, just how resolute she was in harming Masquerade. The lethality of this trap would have surely left Masquerade in the worst state of his life, assuming he was not killed by the fatal explosion. Even right now, despite having blocked the explosion, Masquerade’s ears were still ringing from the force of the blast; being in a confined space when the tags had gone off had made the concussive force seem greater. He supposed he should be fortunate he hadn’t damaged anything in his ear, regardless of how likely it had seemed to him at the time. His head was pounding slightly in rhythm with his eardrums, and the fact that he had almost been forced to experience another destructive explosion had shaken him up some. Not a lot, but enough to acidify his mood. This battle had certainly gone on long enough, and the longer it dragged on, the more dangerous it seemed to become.

“If you’re that sick of fighting, why not just end it already? She’s bound to be almost out of chakra, while you’ve got more than enough. Stop wasting time and get this over with, Kai.”

Such impatience, Shichibi. Why so? I already told you: this all part of the plan. Before I can finish her, I must break her resolve completely. She must be stripped off her will to fight - whether it is by draining her physically, or mentally.

The irritated Bijuu huffed angrily. “Why bother going through all that trouble, if you’re just going to kill her in the end? Where’s the “logic” in breaking her will before killing her?”

The Jinchuuriki smirked in his mind, and not exactly in a pleasant manner. And when did I say I was going to kill her right away?

“What?”

Masquerade did not elaborate, ignoring the Shichibi’s confused query. The Bijuu snapped at him to answer her, but he calmly pushed the nagging voice to the back of his mind. Even if his conversations with the Shichibi did not occur in “real time”, it felt odd to have a deep discussion with her in the middle of a battle. Particularly one like this. Despite not being someone who derived enjoyment from battle, Masquerade had to admit that this one had been rather entertaining. He supposed it was because of his opponent. Perhaps he ought to indulge himself in activities such as these more often? That would be seen later on. For now, he had to focus on this scuffle - though, the conclusion was near. Amongst other factors, the difference in chakra made the outcome of the fight all too apparent. At the rate things were going, Niwa would be out of chakra long before Masquerade would. Indeed, the kunoichi was already breathing raggedly, looking close to exhaustion. The chakra Masquerade was sensing was close to falling dangerously low. The inevitable would soon be upon her.

Niwa’s hands flew together to execute another jutsu, but she was interrupted by Masquerade rushing forth quickly. The male veered around the girl and wrapped his arms around her head in a firm headlock. One arm tightened around her neck, constricting it, while the other, perpendicular limb had its hand grasping her forehead to push her head back slightly. The downward tilt of Masquerade’s mask accentuated the curvature of his smile as he held the girl; the difference in height and apparent strength made it harder for Niwa to break free of Masquerade’s hold. An increased difficulty in breathing due to asphyxiation made it harder still for Niwa to escape the lock. Her gasping did not faze the much taller male or persuade him to loosen his grip. In fact, he spoke in an unfittingly calm and casual manner to his strangulation victim; and the topic itself was seemingly random and unexpected.

“You know, there’s something I’ve been wondering about,” he remarked musingly over Niwa’s grunting and struggling. “Why didn’t Inuzuka Kegawa have a familiar? I was under the impression that all Inuzuka had a Ninken or two… Why the show of individuality?”

It was a valid question, just inappropriate for the chosen time and place. Niwa agreed with this, for her choice of reply was to intensify her struggling. Which meant that she did whatever she could think of to break free. She tried to stomp on Masquerade’s feet, but he calmly moved his foot out of the way at the perfect moment. She then tried to jab her elbow into his stomach, but he appeared to be expecting that too, and bent his torso aside nimbly. Even the classic move of smashing her head against his failed; just like with the other cases, Masquerade jerked the targeted spot out of the way so easily as to be anticipating the attack. Indeed, that was exactly the case here: the masked Nukenin had fought sordidly enough to know what to expect from his captive. Of course, he could not predict everything, which was why he had no counter for when Niwa decided to bite down on the arm throttling her.

The girl’s teeth dug into Masquerade’s burnt skin, and with a growl of pain, he let go off his victim and leaped back from her, clutching the bitten arm. The white mask was shifted to the wheezing Niwa, who was bent over and clutching her throat. A derisive snort sounded from the male. “Well, I guess that answers my question. Why would Inuzuka Kegawa need a canine, when he’s in the company of an animal like you?”

The taunting Nukenin straightened his posture, smirking behind his smiling mask. Niwa’s face whipped around to glare at Masquerade, her eyes watering from the ordeal of near-suffocation, and sheer fury. The unfaltering smile on the masked face only fueled her agitation, and justifiable so. There was often nothing more annoying than someone displaying smug calmness, and Masquerade was practically oozing it. Was it no surprise then that Niwa gave an animalistic howl of rage and lunged at Masquerade? It was nothing more than a simple grab, so the Teinei did not have to try especially hard to sidestep the frustrated girl. While Niwa stumbled clumsily passed him to the ground, Masquerade wordlessly folded his arms behind his back and watched her push herself up onto one knee.

“Tsk! Stop pissing us all off and end it already!”

Again, he blatantly disregarded the words of the aggravated voice. The Teinei’s sights remained fixed on the panting Seinen in silence. Heavy, irregular breathing came from her kneeling form, probably calming her down slightly. It was a few seconds before Niwa locked her fiery eyes on Masquerade again. The kunoichi rose to her feet to openly go through more handseals, without establishing any form of defense first. She just stood there, completely open to attack. Masquerade did not move or speak, however, and made no attempts to stop her. If she was going to expend more energy, then he would not stop her. Whatever she was going to throw at him, he was prepared to take it. Niwa was no doubt also expecting him to counter her move without issue. Despite this, she was probably going through with her plan simply because she refused to “go down without a fight”. Admirable.

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Masquerade:

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Koshou Niwa:

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Age : 31 Posts : 1836

“Magen • Narakumi no Jutsu.”

With a deadpan tone, Niwa announced the name of the Genjutsu. A flurry of leaves swirled around Masquerade at the conclusion of Niwa’s handseals, an incident that was unheeded by the male for its apparent paltriness. What did catch his attention was when a hand unexpectedly clamped onto his shoulder. Jerking in surprise, Masquerade turned his head in the direction of the newcomer, startled by the fact that he had not sensed anyone approaching. The sole reason for why the person behind him had not been detected was because they were not real, and merely an illusion. This also explained why Niwa had vanished from sight, and why the Nukenin actually seemed to have lost all interest in the kunoichi. Even if the Genjutsu had not forced him to divert his attention away from his opponent, he would have been preoccupied anyway. Why? Because this newcomer’s appearance was one that would capture anyone’s gaze.

It was a human - a grown man. A grotesque, decaying wretch of a man. Barely any skin covered the person’s body, his clothes a ragged, torn mess as they hung haphazardly from his body. The man’s right arm hung limply from his side, nothing but a stump from the elbow down; what remained was a mix of bone and fleshy remnants. The left arm, which was clamped over Masquerade’s arm in a fierce grip, was completely devoid of skin. Muscles, tendons, ligaments, and bones were as distinctly visible as the Sun in the sky. The same manner of maiming was featured all over the person’s body: his chest was ripped open to expose the ribcage and organs underneath, and several innards were hanging out of the foot-wide gash across his belly. One half of the man’s head was nothing but bone, the off-white, fractured skull stained with dried blood. The left side was a combination of skin and exposed muscle, though the rips in the flesh here were as abundant as on the rest of his body. The flesh half still sported some of the man’s spiky, light-brown hair, soaked in dark red, flaky blood. The black eyes were lifelessly watching Masquerade, the one surrounded by bone rolling loosely in its socket, while the other was focused solely on the Nukenin.

For a moment, Masquerade was too stunned to move. The grotesque figure opened his mouth and, despite the gaping hole in his throat, spoke in a familiarly deep, gruff voice.

“It’s your fault…”

Masquerade jerked his shoulder free from the thing’s clutches, backing away immediately. From behind his mask, he was staring at the man in utter confusion. He recognized who this was. Not just because of the voice. Not just from the color of his hair, or his eyes, or the clothes he wore, or even the fang-shaped tattoo on his left cheek. The disfigurement was enough for identification. This was the state that the body of Inuzuka Kegawa had been left in at the conclusion of Masquerade’s last mission. This was what that pack of wolves had done to him. The mutilated corpse of a man who had been horrifically tortured to death by the enraged canines. It was a sickening sight to behold, made worse by the memories it brought back.

“It’s your fault… It’s your fault… It’s your fault…”

This was not the first time Masquerade had seen a corpse so viciously maimed, and surely would not be the last. He was not as disconcerted by Kegawa's injuries, but more so by his presence here. Kegawa took a step towards Masquerade, and the other automatically took one back, as if in fear or revulsion. But, he should not be afraid of Kegawa. Logical reasoning was telling him that it was completely impossible for Kegawa’s corpse to be here, walking as if it was alive - even if he had seen plenty of dead bodies walking before (a story for another time). No. This was an illusion: a Genjutsu cast by Niwa. It had to be. Why? Because of the simple fact that Niwa did not possess the skill to do something as astounding as reanimating a dead body. Even Masquerade could not, and a base-ranked shinobi with no talent in, or association with, the medical arts would be less likely to. Unarguably, this was an illusion. His next course of action clearly defined, Masquerade raised his hands up to form the seal to dispel Genjutsu; but as he did so, he noticed something puzzling. His hands did not conjoin to form the handseal, instead pausing voluntarily in their path. He was shaking. Trembling. Why? Was this Genjutsu stimulating fear within him? Discomforting him? Was he agitated just from seeing Kegawa’s corpse lumbering towards him, monotonously repeating “it’s all your fault”? Masquerade looked down at his unsteady hands, facing difficulty in comprehending the sight. Surely, this was not what it seemed? It could not mean what he thought it did…

A presence behind him… Masquerade whipped his gaze around to face the newcomer, someone who’s chakra he had not sensed nearing either; undoubtedly, a part of this Genjutsu, too. He blinked confusedly upon recognizing the figure: it was a shorter woman with pale pink hair reaching to her waist, and wearing a long, white dress of an elaborate make. Her large, green eyes were looking dispassionately at the Nukenin, who narrowed his own. Heiwajima… Mikuru? he noted in further confusion. It was one thing to expect his opponent to manifest Kegawa through the Genjutsu, but this woman? This was a clan heiress that Masquerade had been hired to protect at one point, and whose love life he could be accused of having ruined single-handedly. How on Earth would Niwa be able to include her in this illusion? How did she even know of the Nukenin’s interaction with the pink-haired woman? Something was wrong here; something was wrong with the Genjutsu. His bewilderment was intensifying by the second, and it seemed that his trembling was, too. Masquerade gritted his teeth, trying to calm himself. The uneasiness was increasing, giving rise to a faint sense of panic. He knew the obvious and simplest solution was to cancel the Genjutsu, but he could not. For some reason, his body simply refused to follow through with that basic step; in fact, he could not seem to move from his spot at all. It was like he was paralyzed.

“It’s your fault…”

Those same words again. And they had been uttered in synchrony with the mutilated man still hobbling closer to Masquerade. But, it was not just these two voices that had spoken out at this point. Several other voices had fallen upon Masquerade’s ears at the same time the man and woman’s had, and they had said the exact same statement. Stupefied, Masquerade looked away from Heiwajima Mikuru and around himself. Just a second ago, it had only been himself, Kegawa, and Mikuru occupying the cliff; now, there were more people. A lot more. As in, so many that they had encircled the Nukenin and closed him off in a tight circle. They had just materialized into existence, as if by magic. One second, they weren’t there, and the next second, they were. And they all had the same demeanor as Kegawa and Mikuru. Everywhere Masquerade looked, he saw nothing but impassive, stern faces. And he recognized all of them. Each of them. Vaguely, but accurately nonetheless. These were the people from his hometown, who had all been massacred by raiding bandits. And they, like Mikuru and Kegawa, all trudged closer to him, simultaneously repeating the same sentence over and over again in flat, emotionless voices.

It’s your fault.

Masquerade clapped a hand over one side of his masked face, gripping it firmly as his body shook violently. Beneath the face accessory, his eyes were bulging outwards and his teeth were clenched in distress. The unending chorus of voices rang through his head, echoing as if his mind was an empty cavern. The sound kept getting louder and louder, higher and higher. Shrill. Grating. Screeching. Painful.

“Argh!” He clamped both hands over his ears, trying to block out the agonizing noise, but it was futile. He could still hear it as clearly as if the collective voices were shouting into his ears. In fact, that was exactly what it felt like. As if the people surrounding him were bellowing into his ears in unison, with voices that resembled an orchestra of chainsaws. It was awful. His legs shuddered and sent him down onto his knees. He bent forwards lightly, fingers digging deeply enough into his scalp to almost draw blood. Every articulated syllable felt like a knife cutting into his flesh, like an illusionary hook latching onto his skin and ripping it apart. His expression contorted in pain, a serpentine hiss issuing from his mouth in harmony with the chanting. They wouldn’t stop. The voices kept ringing in his mind, unrelenting, untiring: your fault… your fault… your fault… your fault… your fault…

“Shut up... Shut up...,” he snarled furiously, yearning to tear his skull open, to let the voices out and end the excruciating song. It was anyone’s guess if he even remembered that he was in a Genjutsu, or that the people crowding around him, now looming over him with dark expressions, were not real. The pain was too real - too strong - for him to even try to think rationally. All he could focus on was that incessant, torturous screeching in his head.

YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT
YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT
YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT
YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT
YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT
YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT
YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT

“Arrrrrgggggghhhh!”

Then, a new pain. A different kind of pain. Not mental, but physical. Less severe, but a bit more… real. The muttering mass vanished from sight, taking with them their unremitting chant. Like the end of a migraine, the echo of their chanting did not immediately vanish, lingering in the depths of the Nukenin’s mind like a feeling of nausea. However, his undivided attention was no longer on the state of his mind, but the cause of the new sense of pain. His lowered gaze had caught sight of a ninjato protruding out of his abdomen, the foot long blade embedded all the way into his flesh. The weapon had suddenly popped into view, sticking out of his kidney. He abruptly became aware of the warmth of the blood trickling out from his mouth and from the wound in his abdomen. Still clutching his head, the dazed Nukenin stared stupidly at the weapon, apparently incapable of comprehending what he was seeing. His brain felt sluggish, his thoughts slowed, his senses numbed.

“What… the…”

“Hyah!”

All of a sudden, a knee smashed into Masquerade's bowed face. His head snapped up into the air from the strike’s force, and met with the fist that came flying down to slam into his upturned visage. The male grunted as he smashed face-first into the ground. His still-pounding head was further exacerbated, causing his vision to swim while specks of white popped up before his eyes. The ninjato dug deeper into his body as its handle was pushed upon by the ground, deepening the wound further. He did not have the chance to wince or display any similar signs of pain, owning to the foot that was mercilessly thrust into his side. The kick was strong enough to roll him roughly over the stone floor, aggravating the pain that was coursing through his body even more. The still-dazed Nukenin came to a stop on his back; the next moment, a heavy weight came to rest on his chest, and through hazy vision, he vaguely discerned Niwa as she sat down on his chest.

The kunoichi pulled her fist back, eyes alight with a vicious fire, and planted her fist into Masquerade’s masked face. Even through the thickness of the face accessory, Masquerade could still feel the strength behind the punch. Without a word, Niwa lifted her fist from Masquerade’s face, and then immediately brought the other one down in its place. And then the other. Left. Right. Left. Right. Remorselessly, viciously, the kunoichi threw punch after punch at Masquerade’s face, showing no restraint or mercy as she did so. Each strike was a direct hit, and a forceful one, to add. Her victim did not fight back or make any attempt to dodge the punches, not even making a sound as he was pummeled harshly. Whether he was too physically or mentally exhausted to move, or could not feel the pain, or did not have the will to fight any more, it did not matter. The fact that the opponent was not defending himself did not seem to affect the ferocity with which Niwa pounded her fists into his masked face. The ruthless strikes soon began to chip at the surface of the smooth, white mask with their intensity.

“Enough!”

The sudden cry halted Niwa’s fist an inch from its target. Dark gray eyes narrowed at the tone the Nukenin had used. There was no anger or authority in his voice. There was just fear.

Masquerade held his arms up over his face, his whole body shaking visibly as he croaked to his attacker, “I surrender! Please… No more… I surrender…”

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Masquerade:

Koshou Niwa:

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

“I give up! You win! Please! Show mercy…”

“You… What?”

It sounded pitiful. He sounded pitiful. The whimpering, the trembling, the way he had crossed his arms protectively over his face: it all amounted to a pathetic spectacle. The sight made the disbelieving look in Niwa’s eyes was relatable. Masquerade’s voice was laden with legitimate fear; he genuinely seemed terrified at this moment, like an infant separated from its parent during an outing. It was this show of terror that induced the confused kunoichi to slowly pull her fist away from the male’s shielded face, and just as slowly lift herself off his chest. Confusion dominating her adolescent features, Niwa took a few guarded steps back from the victim of her beating. Soon after the female’s weight was removed from his knees, the Teinei tentatively picked himself up from the ground and into a kneeling position on his knees. He did not speak or attack, merely kneeling there on the ground. He did not even try to pull the ninjato still rooted deeply in his waist. Niwa continued to stare incomprehensively at the other Nukenin. Compared to the majority of the fight, his behavior now was so contrasting… and odd.

Masquerade was still shaking violently, as if a chilled breeze was repeatedly blowing over him, and his crossed arms kept his face hidden and (probably from his point of view) safe from Niwa’s fists of fury. Even from her angle, the kunoichi would be able to see the damage she had dealt to Masquerade’s face wear: a large crack ran diagonally across the front of the mask, originating from the top and passing over the cracked lens of the right eyehole, to terminate at the top of the smile etched onto the white surface. The bottom-left side of the mask had broken off, exposing the lower left half of Masquerade’s face. Black-brown skin, heavily scarred and rough like a reptile’s, was visible through the shield of arms; thanks to the break in the mask, half of the Nukenin’s actual mouth was now exposed. The fear that he was exhibiting was signified by the downward curve of his mouth and the trembling of his teeth - a sharp contrast to the smile marked right beside it on the masked half.

“I’m - I’m sorry…,” the Jinchuuriki mumbled shakily, still not looking at the austere female. The words that came from behind the mock shield were frightened, holding a timid quality. “I didn’t mean to harm anyone. That wasn’t my intention. I was only supposed to gather information; that was it. I wasn’t planning on fighting anyone.” Slowly, the cowering Masquerade lowered his arms and looked up at Niwa. Even if the majority of his face was hidden, the imploring demeanor was as blatant as the crack on his face wear. “Your partner… Inuzuka Kegawa… I - I didn’t mean for that to happen to him! I wasn’t the one who did that to him! It was the wolves! You saw them, didn’t you? Those wolves were responsible for his death! They did those things to him! They killed him! They mutilated his corpse!”

Niwa’s expression hardened, her clenched fists shaking almost as much as Masquerade. The latter lowered his head dejectedly, his voice dropping to an almost inaudible whisper.

“Please… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to cause you so much pain… Have mercy… please…”

Anger flashed within the girl’s gray eyes, and she promptly planted another violent punch into Masquerade’s face. The man grunted pathetically, collapsing backwards onto the ground. His hands frantically flew up to protect his face from any succeeding strikes. None came, however. Masquerade hesitatingly lowered his hands to find that Niwa was standing her ground, her entire body shaking with the obvious attempt to the control her wrath. The murderous look on her face slowly relaxed into a more controlled one, though the fury was prevalent. As a seemingly petrified Masquerade watched, the younger girl took a deep breath and straightened up from her battle stance. She threw a disgusted look at the shinobi lying on the ground, like the kind one would give to a pile of manure.

“You’re pathetic,” Niwa snapped contemptuously. “I know you weren’t the one to directly take Kegawa-kun’s life, but you sure as hell played a part in his death. I got to him while he was still alive… He told me how those wolves attacked him, and you refused to help him. You left him to die horribly. That’s worse than actually killing him.” She turned her head away from the masked shinobi, as if simply looking at him was becoming harder for her by the second. A sorrowful shadow had befallen her face, no doubt from having to recall the tragic scene she was narrating. Without looking towards Masquerade, Niwa monotonously muttered to him: “We’re done - this match is over. You were right: it’s not worth the effort beating a spineless coward like you. Go back to whatever hole in the ground you crawled out of. You worthless insect.”

With those condescending words, she turned on her heels and marched off. Or rather, she tried to. The kunoichi had barely taken a step forward when a pair of gloved hands erupted from the stone below her; these hands clasped onto her shins, the aura of chakra incasing them noticeable at first glance. Niwa cried out in surprise and collapsed forwards to the ground simultaneously. Her legs were unresponsive: the nerves connecting them to her spinal cord had been severed. As the girl would realize this, a pair of shadows would fall upon her. She looked up, and saw the two Masquerades standing over her, heads titled down to peer at her. One of the Masquerades was in prime physical appearance, completely free from any wearing of battle: the Kage Bunshin. The other, obviously, was the original Masquerade. No longer was he trembling; instead, he stood as confidently as the Bunshin beside him, with no signs of fear or anxiety in his demeanor. Niwa blinked stupidly at the sight, and the visible portion of the real Masquerade’s mouth broke into a smug, derisive smirk. He spoke to the immobilized girl, and his voice was just as derisive and superior as his expression.

“I can’t believe you actually fell for that...,” he remarked with amusement, while enunciating and lengthening every syllable in a thoughtful drawl. Both Masquerades snorted contemptuously in unison, momentarily casting an entertained glance at each other. As one might expect, Niwa’s face lit up in fury, and a deluge of curses streamed out of her mouth. However, she was brusquely interrupted when the Kage Bunshin stomped a foot down onto her hand, trapping the extremity while he reached forward with one of his chakra-coated hands to grip the girl’s shoulder. The gentle touch tore the ligaments in Niwa’s shoulder and dislocated it. The result was a floppiness in the kunoichi’s arm, and a shout of discomfort. Having rendered his opponent incapable of movement and unable to counterattack, the Bunshin wordlessly removed the pressure from Niwa’s hand and took a step back to stand beside his original self. Said original’s smirk widened as his adversary’s vehement gaze locked with his.

“You gutless coward! Damning you to the deepest depths of Hell would be too nice a fate for you!” Unsurprisingly, she was pissed. And who could blame her? Not only had Masquerade just tried to trick her with an act of helplessness, but she had fallen for it completely - “hook, line, and sinker”, as the saying went. Masquerade did not know if he was that good an actor, or if this girl was just that gullible. It would be a tough question for him to answer. In fact, he considered voicing the query to the girl, if only to see her rage intensify. Indeed, Niwa looked ready to start thrashing violently in spite of her crippling injuries. That is, until the blazing fire in the gray eyes died down significantly. At the same time, her tensed muscles loosened, though not in relaxation, but in obvious submission. She glared down at the ground, and her proceeding words came out in an irritable and conceding manner. “Just hurry up and get this over with.”

The battle-worn Masquerade titled his head to the side in thought for a moment, before squatting down in front of the incapacitated female. The silence with which he watched her for a few seconds caused Niwa to meet his gaze, albeit with the same disdain as always. “You demanded this battle in the hopes that you would either avenge your deceased comrade, or you would be reunited with him in death. Am I wrong?” Of course he was right. Anyone with a gorilla’s IQ would have inferred as much by now. He did not need the silence to confirm his statement; it had been a rhetorical remark. There was no other explanation for why this kind of match would have been set up. The whole point was to seek some form of solace, and those driven by hate saw either vengeance or death as the only means of attaining this peace. This girl had challenged someone who, by all accounts, was stronger than her. The only reason she had managed to last so long against Masquerade was because he had chosen to let her live. Yet, she had gone through with this venture of suicide, all for the sake of her dead partner. It seemed that she had cared for him a great deal. Blatantly so, in fact. There was nothing wrong with such compassion or camaraderie, even to a lone rogue like Masquerade.

“He must have been a very important person to you, for you to go to such lengths to honor his death,” Masquerade muttered pensively as he stood up to his full height, sounding a little sympathetic now. Niwa’s expression did not soften, and for good reason. An unpleasant grin suddenly stretched across Masquerade’s exposed mouth. “Touching.”

His boot collided with Niwa’s face and had it impact with the ground forcibly. Lights went out right away, and she lay prone on the ground. The grin on Masquerade’s face remained intact for a couple of seconds, before faltering and shifting into a grimace of pain. He looked down at his abdomen, from where the short handle of the ninjato was still protruding out. He’d ignored the pain to keep up appearances, but it was becoming a nuisance now. Besides, removing the item would increase blood loss considerably, unless he proceeded to apply immediate medical attention; which was what he was going to do now. Gripping the weapon firmly in one hand, he yanked it out of his lower torso, gasping as a new wave of pain overwhelmed his senses. Chucking the bloodied weapon aside, a panting Masquerade formed the handseals for his healing jutsu, and then pressed the hand with the coating of green chakra over the wound.

In between wincing from the pain that came from having an open wound and from closing the wound, he muttered to his Kage Bunshin to tie up Niwa, so as to avoid any further trouble from her. The Bunshin obliged, fishing through the kunoichi’s arsenal until he found enough rope and wire. While the original repaired the damage inflicted upon him by his opponent, the clone efficiently restrained said opponent’s limbs. Though, the constraints were probably not necessary. A dislocated shoulder and severed nerves in her legs? Niwa would not be causing any problems until she had received proper medical attention, and Masquerade was not going to offer any at the moment.

Its task finished, the Bunshin stood up and looked over at the original Masquerade. “What the hell happened to you? That Genjutsu… What did she make you see?”

The original looked up from his treatment and around at the doppelganger. If his face had not been hidden behind the mask, the bewildered look would have been easily seen. “Did I really just ask myself that question?” the original inquired of the clone, drawing attention to the ridiculousness of a Bunshin questioning the actions of its real counterpart. The Kage Bunshin did seem to realize the folly, and shook his head before dispersing with a generation of smoke.

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Jutsu Used:

Chakra Remaining:

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

The foremost of the burly men pushed the lacquered door open. He then stood back to allow the pair of men behind him to enter. The shortest of the three entered first, followed by the partner of the man holding the door open. Once all three had passed through the doorway, the entrance was blocked off once again. Inside, the familiar face of Fugaku was raised from the pile of papers weighing down the desk in front of him. With the impatient air of one who has been interrupted while performing an important task, he looked over at the masked man (whose face wear had been replaced with an undamaged one) standing between the two larger, more robust men. Impatience was immediately replaced by confusion as Masquerade took a step forward, and curtly dropped the person he had slumped over his shoulder onto the carpeted floor. The older man jumped to his feet, stepping out from behind his table in apparent anger as he peered down at magenta-haired woman, who was promptly lifted up by the collar by the male Nukenin and deposited in a sitting position on the ground.

“What the hell is this?! Why is she here?! Why is she still alive?!”

A beefy finger was pointed furiously at the bound Niwa, while an austere glare was directed to Masquerade. The girl’s hair of brilliant magenta fell over her bowed face, the bangs just managing to obscure the glazed, unfocused look in her dark gray eyes. Her posture was noticeably slumped, and she gave no sign of knowing, or caring for, where she was or whose presence she was in. Beside her, the standing Teinei casually gestured to her, addressing the irate man across from him. “She is worth more alive. Koshou Niwa was on that island; she has been working closely with Shinji Uteki’s men; and she knows the detailed mechanisms of their business. Therefore, she is a valuable source of information for anyone who may wish to… sabotage Shinji Uteki’s operation.” Masquerade placed a hand over his chest in a humbled manner while continuing. “Consider this my gift to your employer… and a form of apology for my earlier lapse of logicality.”

And that was it: that was the reason why Masquerade had not immediately killed Niwa at the start of their battle, or before it. To take Niwa’s life had never been his intention: he had planned to bring her to Fugaku alive the moment he had agreed to take on the challenge. As he said, there was more to be gained in keeping Niwa alive than there was in finishing her off. This whole incident had started because of Yoshino Hibiki’s desire to learn more about his drug trade rival. Thus, it was only fitting that it end with Hibiki obtaining a means for acquiring more information. Indeed, if Masquerade had been in Hibiki’s place, he would definitely prefer a source for further information. And Niwa would certainly be able to provide some valuable information - probably more than Masquerade had managed to during his reconnaissance mission from earlier. All that was required was to break the girl first - a goal that Masquerade felt he had already initiated the beginning stages of. The limp, dazed state that Niwa was presently in implied at a weakened mind. Ultimately, the Teinei’s callous attempts to shatter her resolve and will had been a success. There was no fight left in Niwa. She would be at the complete mercy of Yoshino Hibiki and his men.

Masquerade’s elucidation managed to do just that: elucidate the matter. Luckily, Fugaku appeared to find the reasoning valid. His vexation was substituted with equanimity, which was evident as the wrinkles on his forehead alleviated. He moved closer to the silent Niwa and bent down, looking her steadily in the face with contemplation. A beefy, calloused hand wrapped around her jaw and lifted her head up, showing to the man the clouded, unfocused expression dominating her pretty features. Just as before, Niwa did not react to Fugaku’s presence, not even directing her gray eyes to him. Seemingly satisfied by whatever he had been inspecting (he had probably been gauging how hard it would be to crack her, or else thinking something lewd), Fugaku nodded up to the two sentries hovering over Masquerade’s shoulders. The men were prompt in their response: they moved around the Teinei and lifted the bound Seinen off the floor. Despite her much lighter weight, each burly male placed a hand under her arm and picked her up from the floor, pulling her onto her feet. Since the poor girl did not stand on her own feet (probably because she was too out of it, and because the severed nerves in her ankles made the task harder), the guards essentially dragged her unceremoniously out of the room. Fugaku brought his attention to Masquerade from the display of impoliteness. “Alright. We’re done here, I guess. I’ll explain to Yoshino-dono why she’s still breathing.”

A fractional lowering of Masquerade’s hood head followed this statement, interpreted as a nod of acceptance. After a brief pause, the Nukenin stated in a soft, detached voice, “Be gentle with her. As you probably noticed, she may be a little… mentally unsound.” The request sounded emphatic, but the deadpan in which it had been delivered carried no such compassion with it. It was unclear whether Masquerade had made the recommendation with any concern for Niwa’s wellbeing. The unreadable mask and the lack of body language made it harder to determine for sure. His tone, however, might imply a lack of care.

Regardless of Masquerade’s actual intent, Fugaku did not contend the Nukenin’s remark, only concurring with a silent nod. He then made to return to his seat and his paperwork, interjecting with a gesture to Masquerade for him to leave. “You can go now. And let’s try not to find an excuse to meet up again, okay? Ten times in less than a week… Might as well start having lunch together.” His mumbling had barely reached its conclusion before Masquerade had departed, exiting while the speaker’s back was turned.

A few minutes later, one would find the shinobi passing through a pair of doors and climbing up a flight of stairs to a deserted alley. Habitually looking around to make sure no one was around, the Teinei folded his arms behind his back and headed down the alley to the connecting street at the end. Hunger pangs suddenly plagued his stomach, thus giving him a destination to reach. While his feet obeyed his hunger to automatically take him to a nearby eatery, his thoughts were elsewhere. As always, he was contemplating over recent events, and this entire adventure had left him with plenty to ponder on. Primarily, his ruminations were fixated on the two Nukenin he had encountered during this whole ordeal. Inuzuka Kegawa Koshou Niwa. Each had left different impressions on the pensive Nukenin. He was irked by both for having caused him so much trouble, but at the same time, he respected them for having put him through such adversity. And of course, there was pity. Pity for the unfortunate fates that had befallen each. And the guilt that came from knowing that he had been instrumental in instigating both results. He had played a contributing part in Kegawa’s gruesome death; and he was the reason why Niwa had not joined Kegawa in the death she wanted, but would instead be forced to undergo whatever torturous interrogation Hibiki had in store for her. Hardened though his heart may be, even Masquerade had to admit there was a bit of tragedy to be found in the whole matter.

But more than the two Nukenin’s fates, what was engrossing his attention so much was what he had experienced during his encounter with Kegawa and Niwa. By that, he was referring specifically to the Genjutsu that Niwa had cast on him. That Genjutsu, where he had been made to see a vision of Kegawa’s corpse… and all those other people. The Teinei raised a hand to his temple, still experiencing a faint throbbing in that area. He felt like the smallest of stimuli could set off the wave of nausea threatening to wash over him. The after-effects of the illusion, no doubt. Masquerade frowned intensely, upper lip pursed in thought. He recalled the moment when his Kage Bunshin had dispersed earlier. As the cognizant clone had vanished, its memories had merged with those of Masquerade’s, and he had been able to see from the clone’s perspective when he, the real Masquerade, had been caught in the Genjutsu. More specifically, he had been able to see his behavior while the Genjutsu was in effect. It was a befuddling reveal: while the illusion had seemed to last for over a minute to the real Masquerade, to all those observing from outside, it had only been a second before the Nukenin had dropped to his knees and began roaring in pain. Barely any time had gone by before Niwa had seized her chance to impale her enemy. For some reason, a Genjutsu as basic as that had had such a powerful effect on Masquerade. He could not understand why. There was no logical explanation that he could come up with at this time. It was mystifying. Mind-boggling.

What the hell happened, indeed…, he remarked reflectively in his mind, repeating the words of his Kage Bunshin.

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~ Mission Complete ~