Appearances Can Be Deceiving [Training]

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

Training | Special Characteristics | Physical | Minor Poison Immunity

Spoiler:

Slightly tanned, a square jaw with a minute amount of stubble, a good build, hazel eyes, and medium-length, messy black hair. Those were the distinguishing features of the man grinning up at Masquerade from the small picture. The masked boy frowned at the photograph in his hand, his insectile eyes narrowing as he examined the picture. He then raised his head to the small town bathed in the moonlight a hundred yards away. While the town looked nowhere near important or illustrious to warrant a population of shinobi, Masquerade still felt caution was a wise move. It was thus that he was examining a random picture he had come across some time ago. Truth be told, he did not even remember ever picking it up. He supposed he had acquired it unintentionally, picking it up without thought and pocketing it. Whatever the reason, he now had a face to hide behind.

The blonde teen once more turned his gaze to the paper, examining it once more carefully. He was not particularly thrilled at the concept of taking on the appearance of a random man, but he had to be careful. Sighing, Masquerade formed a set of handseals and spoke the words: “Henge no Jutsu!” Immediately, a cloud of smoke engulfed the boy; when it cleared, there stood the man in the photograph in his place. Masquerade glanced down at his body, flexing his hands. The form was a little too large and brutish for comfort, but it would have to do. Just long enough for Masquerade to find himself some form of sustenance.

Stepping off the grass and onto a winding path of dirt, he followed the path to the town’s entrance. The boy-in-disguise turned his head slowly from side to side as he scrutinized the town. It was fairly bland and mediocre to look at; apartments, shops, bars, a park, everything you could find in an average town. Even the locals seemed boring and plain. Youngsters chasing each other through the town while the merchants with their vendors attempted to bargain with their customers. Mothers gossiping with each other, their hands laden with shopping yet still managing to keep a firm hold on their energetic children. Masquerade smirked in his mind. It was all conventional, all normal.

Directing his feet towards one of the many restaurants he was passing, Masquerade gently pushed open the door and heard a bell chime as he stepped out of the sunlight into the softly-lit building. At the sound of the bell, the man at the counter looked up and smiled graciously, welcoming the new customer in. Oddly enough, Masquerade was the only customer. Wondering if this was a sign as to the quality of food served here, the boy seated himself on the stool in front of the counter as the owner walked up to him with a pen and pad in hand. The man introduced himself as Mr. Fukashi and asked for Masquerade’s order. After the necessary reply was given, Mr. Fukashi nodded and set about preparing his customer’s meal. While he waited, the transformed boy slid his eyes around the building’s interior, taking in the decorations on the ceiling and walls.

The bell at the door sounded once more, and Mr. Fukashi’s voice automatically sounded out to welcome the customer. The newcomer took the seat beside Masquerade, allowing the boy to see that she was a girl of perhaps sixteen years of age, unexceptional save the deep shade of blue coloring of her hair. The girl was dressed in a stormy gray cloak, and one look at her told Masquerade that she too was a traveler.

Once she had given her order to the cook, the girl seemed to notice Masquerade watching her. She turned her head towards him, looking at the face of the man Masquerade was, err, “masquerading” as. “Yes? Is there something you want to ask me?” she inquired slowly, watching Masquerade carefully. Facing her, Masquerade smiled slightly and shook his head.

“No,” he replied, keeping his answer short. There was a moment of silence between the two, broken by the reappearance of Mr. Fukashi, who flamboyantly handed Masquerade his meal. Turning his gaze to his food, Masquerade began to eat. The girl turned her gaze away from Masquerade as well, though the boy was sure she was watching him from the corner of her eye.

A few minutes later, Masquerade pushed his empty plate away and paid the cook for the meal. He walked out of the restaurant and immediately took a right into a dark alley. As he walked down the alley, he could hear the sound of cautious footsteps behind him. Smirking, Masquerade continued walking until he reached a dead end. He then turned around and called out, “I know you’re there. Come on out, this is becoming tiresome.”

Slowly, the blue-haired girl from the restaurant stepped out of the gloom, her face alight with anger and fierce determination. “And here I thought I had managed to keep myself hidden.” She looked up at Masquerade’s face, or rather, the face of the man he had transformed into. Slowly, the girl pulled out a dagger from under her cloak. “However, it won’t do you much good,” she announced. “You’re about to pay for what you’ve done to me and my family, Hizashi!”

A triumphant smile had appeared on her face as she said those words. Masquerade kept his face blank and emotionless. How interesting. So this man’s name is Hizashi, and he’s somehow wronged this girl and her family, the boy observed with amusement. He wondered if he should tell the girl the truth, or perhaps taunt her. After all, the girl was much smaller than “Hizashi”, not to mention she was still a child, while Masquerade’s form was that of a grown man. Although, that did not mean she was powerless. She might be possesses some fighting prowess despite her petite appearance. Still, it would be interesting to play the part, wouldn’t it?

“Exactly how do you plan on “making me pay for what I’ve done”?” Masquerade asked out loud. “I’m much bigger than you, and stronger than you, little girl."

The girl’s triumphant smile widened as she replied, “I don’t have to beat you in a physical contest, Hizashi.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Masquerade’s body shuddered violently and he dropped to his knees, his entire body jerking uncontrollably as he gasped in surprise. The girl advanced towards Masquerade slowly, her voice so low she might as well have been whispering.

“I poisoned your drink back at the restaurant, and now the effects of the toxins are taking place. Pretty soon your body will be paralyzed. And then you’ll pay. You will pay!

Her voice had risen to a screech at the last sentence. Masquerade dropped onto his front and lay on the ground, his body completely stiff and unable to move. All he could do was watch as the girl approached him step by slow step, the dagger held in her shaking hand, a deranged expression on her face. Slowly, the girl raised her weapon as high as she could, and plunged it down towards Masquerade’s throat.

A hand grabbed the girl’s wrist and yanked the dagger from her, plunging it deep into her right leg. The girl gave a howl of pain and dropped to the floor, clutching her wounded leg. She looked up in pain as Masquerade stood over her, still hiding behind the face of “Hizashi”. He chuckled softly in amusement. “Did you really think I didn’t notice you spiking my drink?” he asked, bending down in front of the girl. “I knew from the start. Why do you think I came down this alley? It wasn’t because I craved a more scenic route. Poisons as weak as the one you used don’t work on me. And even if they did, you need to learn to be more surreptitious when poisoning someone, my dear.”

Laughing once more, Masquerade straightened up. “So let’s have it. Why were you trying to kill me?”

The girl glared up at him. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know!” she cried, her tone furious. “You’re the man who blackmailed my mother constantly, and then when you’d had enough of her, you killed her! I swore I’d get you for that! I swore I’d avenge my mother!”

Masquerade watched her silently, his face once again as hard as a rock. He then lowered his head and chuckled lightly. “Funny, you’d think I’d remember doing something like that. But you see, that may be because...” He paused and looked at the girl, a smirk forming across his face. With a low popping sound, a cloud of smoke enveloped “Hizashi”. It cleared immediately to reveal Masquerade in his true form, looking down at the surprised expression on the girl’s face with a smirk. “… I’m not “Hizashi,” he finished.

The girl stared up at Masquerade in stunned silence. Spreading his arms and grinning mockingly, Masquerade shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, but it looks like you just tried to kill the wrong person. I was merely borrowing this man’s identity so that I could pass through this village without giving myself away.” He lowered his arms and bent down beside the girl, who instinctively tried to back away from him, her eyes wide with fear. Amusing. Looks like she figured out why I would need to keep my identity a secret. Heh, this should make this more entertaining…

Masquerade moved his right hand towards the girl’s leg, placing half a foot above the wound he had inflicted on her. The girl’s widened eyes watched Masquerade with apprehension. “Wha-what’re you going to do?” she questioned with terror. Masquerade did not reply as a green aura appeared around his hand. The girl cringed and closed her eyes, awaiting pain. When it did not come, she opened her eyes and gasped as she saw her wound closing itself, courtesy of the green aura emanating from Masquerade’s hand. In a matter of seconds, the wound had vanished, as if it had never been there.

Rising to his feet, Masquerade walked past the girl, what little of his face that could be seen beneath the mask as solid as a brick. The girl stared at Masquerade in silence, incomprehension having been splattered across her face. Suddenly, she spoke, posing a question: “Wa-wait! What’s your name?”

Masquerade stopped in his tracks, his back still turned to the girl, his expression still unreadable. Without turning his head, he gave his reply:

“I’m a criminal. I am Masquerade.”

Word Count: 1762/600