Mission: Here Comes The Bride [Part I] | [Private]

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

• Here Comes The Bride •
[Part I]

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The Heiwajima clan and the Kurosawa clan: two affluent families of Hi no Kuni. Not the richest, but nonetheless possessing a substantial amount of wealth. Neither of the clans trained their members to be ninja, nor did they make an effort to be too involved with the goings on of the Shinobi Nations - unless it affected them directly. Each family had their own family businesses that supplied them with their abundance of wealth, and each clan was respected and revered by the people around them. However, what most people did not know was that each clan was also a prominent dealer in the black market trade. Those with criminal backgrounds would know of the Heiwajima and Kurosawa clans for exploits not always regarded as “legal”. While on the outside both families appeared to be nothing more than simple traders, in reality they could actually be likened to crime syndicates of sorts. Both clans had used their wealth, power, and resources for questionable acts numerous times. Drug trafficking, assassinations, smuggling, robberies - if there was anything that was classed as illegal, there was little doubt that either clan had once been involved in such acts. Despite the fact that some knew of both clans’ true natures (mostly those of a criminal position), their social standing and influence made them untouchable by the law. Not to mention, many corrupt and greedy figures saw their exploits as a valuable asset to the economy.

Despite their similarities, there was the slight problem that the Heiwajima and Kurosawa clans were actually rivals. Much like the Senju and Uchiha clans from days past, these two clans were always at each other’s throats, frequently attempting to surpass the other. It was the typical rivalry between two powerful clans; two crime families. It was a common occurrence for anyone who had heard of either clan to know that one despised the other - if you were working for one of the families, you could expect resistance from the other clan’s forces during your assigned task. In short, both clans wanted the other dead.

Given this setting, it was hardly surprising that the recent turn of events came as a shock to practically everyone. When word spread that the two clan heads were considering a truce, people were bewildered by the news. According to reports, the Heiwajima and Kurosawa clans were going to set aside their differences and work together so as to improve their businesses. The people’s confusion only increased when they heard how this alliance was going to be cemented; a marriage between the clan leaders’ eldest offspring was going to be used to “seal the deal”. Apparently, this was even a bigger shock than hearing that both clans were considering a truce. Something like this would literally form a strong bond between both families.

So how exactly did Masquerade factor into this? Well, the wedding was only a few days away, and word on the dirt path was that the Heiwajima was looking for ninja to escort the bride to the Kurosawa clan’s headquarters; and when they said ninja, they meant ninja that were cut from a certain cloth: that is, Nukenin. For some reason, the Heiwajima did not wish to enlist the aid of Konohagakure ninja, despite their being the more “reliable” and “easier-to-access” option. Why this was the case, no one could say, though some (Masquerade included) speculated that it was merely to avoid any unnecessary complications. There were certainly some risks for both clans in hiring escorts from a group that might end up arresting them. Much safer to hire criminals like themselves. Plus, there would be fewer repercussions in killing a criminal who had learned too much, as opposed to a Konohagakure ninja.

Thus, the blonde Nukenin could be found walking through a narrow, wooden hallway, being led by a bespectacled man with black hair, and dressed in a traditional robe of a maroon color. This man, who went by the name of Heiwajima Kiritsugu, was currently leading Masquerade from the former’s office to another room in this building. Said building was actually the residential complex of the Heiwajima clan, where Masquerade had arrived some minutes ago. Upon reaching the guarded entrance of the compound, Masquerade had been taken to a room to meet the man called Kiritsugu. From what Masquerade came to learn, this man was the second-highest “ranked” person in the complex, serving as the advisor to, and right-hand man of, the head of the Heiwajima clan. After Masquerade had been introduced to Kiristugu and his reason for being here explained, Kiritsugu had then proceeded to lead the Nukenin from his office and deeper into the building.

The two were approaching their destination, when Masquerade heard the sound of two men around the corner, apparently in the middle of a conversation. As Masquerade and his guide turned the corner, the Nukenin caught sight of two males standing on either side of a circular shōji door, positioned like guards. The sentries seemed so immersed in their discussion that they did not seem to notice Masquerade and Kiritsugu’s approach.

“Can’t believe the Boss hired one of them for this job,” the shorter of the two was saying in an irritated tone, blue eyes fixed on the door behind him and his green-haired partner. “They’re nothin’ but trouble. You ask me, the Boss is insane if he thinks these weirdoes will be able to do anything useful!”

His stoic-faced friend shrugged in response. “You know how he is about her - always looking out for her well-being.”

“More like obsessed. I tell ya, Heiwajima-sama’s a total nutcase when it comes to her, and that’s putting it lightly!”

“Is that right, Shinusagi? I wasn’t aware you thought that way about our leader.”

The two men started at the sound of the soft, gentle voice and turned to face its origin: the dark-haired, bespectacled man clad in the maroon kimono. Both Kiritsugu’s voice and face were devoid of any signs of anger, yet the two friends shot each other quick a glance of uneasiness upon noticing. They quickly snapped back to attention in front of the door, but not before the foremost newcomer shook his head faintly at the two men, as if he was disappointed.“My advice, don’t let Heiwajima-sama catch you talking about him or his daughter that way,” Kiritsugu offered in a tone of apparent empathy, though the intensity of his green-eyed gaze could have cracked a rock in half. “In fact, it would probably be wise to never speak of either of them in such a manner again; that is, unless you want to have your innards stuffed into a bowl and displayed to all?”

The two men paled and visibly trembled. They both stuttered as they apologize for their misbehavior. Kiritsugu ignored the two blubbering guards and instead turned around to speak to the ninja behind him, who had remained silent throughout the brief exchange. “This way, then,” he ordered, gesturing with a hand to the circular shōji door behind the guards. He then beckoned to the figure with a finger, brusquely telling him to enter. The masked male wordlessly stepped past him and into the room. “Heiwajima-sama will see you shortly,” the man named Kiritsugu informed in a calm voice. “Wait here until you are summoned.” With a curtness that matched his speaking style, he slid the door shut.

Still watching the door, the white-coated boy allowed a faint smirk to slip onto his mouth; he could still see the unmoving silhouettes of the two guards through the door’s screen. Masquerade could easily tell that it had not just been Kiritsugu’s hypothetical consequence that had unnerved them, but the dark-haired superior himself. Frankly, Masquerade couldn’t blame them. Even though the blonde Nukenin had only been in Kiritsugu’s presence for less than ten minutes, that short period of time had been more than enough to paint a picture of the kind of person his escort was. The young man had a few ideas of what could give a man as unassuming as Kiritsugu such an intimidating aura and reputation, and those ideas were all far from pleasant. Particularly after hearing that very “cheery” threat he had given.

Masquerade drew his attention away from the door and his scary escort to the room itself. A rather plain room, the floor of which was lined with cream-colored tatami mats, and the wooden walls featuring a chocolate-brown coloring; a number of lighted candles were hanging from brackets on said walls; no windows, though Masquerade was not surprised by this, seeing as how he had noted this room to be in the very heart of the building. A small, low table occupied the center of the room, it being the only piece of furniture in the room. Currently seated behind this table was the only other occupant of the room. Masquerade offered the mute person, whose profile was facing him and the door behind him, a quick a visual scan. The person was a teenage girl with a head of waist-length black hair, wearing a distinctly unorthodox outfit: it consisted of a decorative white coat buttoned over a collared shirt and red tie, a short dress over black tights, thigh-length boots matching the coat and gloves, and some ridiculous white bow tied on the top of her head like a hair band. A katana with a crimson-scabbard lay neatly on the table before her. The girl’s eyes were closed and she was seated in a seiza style, as if she was meditating. Indeed, given her lack of response to Masquerade’s presence in the room, this might very well be what she was doing. This, then, must be his partner for this mission. Masquerade would be lying if he said he knew her name or who she was; there were a surprisingly large number of Nukenin in the underworld.

Sparing this immobile girl no more than a moment’s glance, Masquerade strolled over to lean against a wall beside the entrance, arms crossed and head leaning back to direct his hidden eyes’ line of sight to the ceiling. As he settled into his waiting position, he made note of how his company still did not seem to show any signs of recognition regarding his presence. First impressions were what mattered, correct? Well, the first impression that Masquerade was getting one of indifference and detachment. Or maybe she was just clueless. Could be that. Regardless, after seeing that his fellow shinobi was not in the talkative mood, Masquerade lowered his gaze to the floor below, his insectile eyes closing unseeingly behind his mask as he waited for Kiritsugu to call for him, and for the mission to begin. Though really, the mission’s objective itself was not really something that interested the Jinchuuriki. Truth be told, he found the situation he was in to be more fascinating than the actual mission he had been assigned. He was quite interested to see how this new development between the Heiwajima and Kurosawa would run its course.

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

The minutes seemed to tick by slowly and monotonously, until an entire half hour had passed since Kiritsugu had left Masquerade in the waiting room. Surprisingly (0r perhaps not), the wait so far had gone by without either shinobi speaking to each other, or moving from their respective positions. The female still had not directed her attention to the male, or at the very least had not done so visibly. She was remained in her meditation-esque position, making the blonde male wonder how long she could stay in that pose before it became uncomfortable. From his reclining position against the wall, he wondered vaguely for a moment just how much earlier she had arrived than him, and whether she had been in that position ever since. Yes, that’s how bored Masquerade was right now. Calling him impatient would be inaccurate, as he usually found a way to entertain himself during long waits; usually, deeply contemplating or mindlessly staring at a wall constituted such forms of entertainment. In this case, he kept his mind occupied with useless musings such as the aforementioned. Eventually, though, he would grow tired of that as well. Fortunately, Masquerade did not have to worry about such an occurrence, for the wait was soon over: at last, on the fortieth minute, the shōji door was slid open, and the hawk-like glare of Kiritsugu was drilling holes into the two ninja from the doorway. At the sound of the door opening, Masquerade lifted his head and looked around. Out of the corner of his hidden eye, the boy saw the girl’s body twitch, and her head seemed to inch just a hair to her right, as if she was watching the doorway through her peripherals. Now that he had both Nukenin’s attention, Kiritsugu waved a hand at both teens curtly. “Kakeru Misami; Masquerade. Heiwajima-sama’s ready to see you. Follow me.”

Ah, so that’s her name, Masquerade noted mentally, sparing a quick glance in the direction of “Kakeru Misami” (a name that, he had to admit, he had never heard before), prior to walking out of the room. Kiristugu waited calmly for the two Nukenin to exit the room, before turning swiftly on his heel and heading down the hall; Masquerade followed suit, the still-silent kunoichi falling into step behind the boy. Kiritsugu led the two through the dimly-lit hallways, which were silent save for the sound of Kiritsugu’s wooden sandals and the two shinobi’s booted feet padding against the meticulously-cleaned floor. As Kiritsugu led the “guests” through the complex, Masquerade observed how easy it would be for someone to lose their way in this maze of hallways. He recalled noting, earlier when he had arrived, how big this complex had seemed from the outside. Now that he was inside, he had a feeling that the building was larger than it had initially appeared. Putting aside those musings, Masquerade instead focused on following the man leading confidently them through the hallways.

A handful of corridors and numerous turns later, the three were approaching a pair of ostentatious and highly-decorative doors; on either side of these doors was stationed a heavily-muscled, brute of a man. Both men’s outstretched weapons were crossing over each other, blocking the door in a manner that indicated forbidden access. The phrase “none shall pass” seemed to go without saying. Both these “fine specimens of manhood” looked ready to pummel anyone who dared come near those doors. However, as the three newcomers approached, the towering guards stepped aside to allow them to enter; they even threw a respectful glance at Kiritsugu as they pushed open the doors (an act that further signified at the latter’s high standing in the Heiwajima’s hierarchy). Without so much as a glance back to see if the two ninja were behind him, Kiritsugu stepped into the room, announcing as he did so: “I have brought them, Heiwajima-sama.”

The giant doors swung shut loudly behind Masquerade and his female associate, leaving behind a sudden silence in the room. Much to Masquerade’s surprise, the room was not as large as he had expected. In fact, it was no more than twice the size of the room he had just been waiting in. Unlike the previous room, a great deal of effort had been put into making this room as aesthetically pleasing as possible. This was hardly a surprise, for the reason behind making the room look its best was seated on the massive sofa in the center of the room, sipping from a mug of steaming green tea and reclining lazily like some kind of giant cat. Like a lion. It was to this “lion” that Kiristugu gestured as he looked towards the Nukenin. “Allow me to introduce -,” he began in his unemotional voice, “- the Head of the Heiwajima clan: Heiwajima Hokomaru-sama. Heiwajima-sama, these are the Nukenin we hired: Kakeru Misami, and Masquerade.”

Heiwajima Hokomaru was, simply put, huge. The white-haired man was a giant, easily boasting an eight foot frame, with the burliest physique Masquerade had ever seen (the lack of a shirt made this fact all the more obvious). The man was not made of muscle and bone - he was steel molded into a human shape. Clearly, this man was not someone you wanted to get into a fistfight with. Hell, Masquerade would have bet this behemoth could kill a man using his only shoulders - just bumping into his victims ought to suffice. To think that just a few moments ago, Masquerade had been thinking that the guards outside were gargantuan, when in here was a man who made them look like toothpicks. Needless to say, Masquerade felt a little “physically insignificant” in comparison to the giant of a man before him. Said giant of a man, still seated on his coach, leaned forward and eyed the two ninja with narrowed eyes. The cup of tea in his hand was gently placed on the polished wooden table in front of him before his hand moved up to gently stroke his square jaw. Hokomaru’s line of sight first fell on the male ninja, scrutinizing him carefully. While Masquerade was not perturbed by the intensity with which the man’s eyes swept over his person, he had to wonder if this was what it felt like to have a predator mark you as its prey. Fortunately, at that moment Heiwajima’s eyes slid to the kunoichi beside Masquerade, who seemed as equally unaffected by the giant’s scrutinizing as was the male ninja. Then again, Masquerade had admittedly been quite uneasy on the inside when Hokomaru had looked at him. If this girl felt the same discomfort, she was managing to hide it well - and she did not even need a mask to help her.

A few moments later, the clan leader had finished examining the two shinobi. His facial hair twitched as a frown appeared on his face. Hokomaru turned aggravated eyes to Kiritsugu, and spat out at him, “Is this the best you could get me?” His voice, grating and rough, held creeping notes of fury and irritation in it. Indeed, the manner in which his hands clenched themselves into fists, and his muscles seemed to tighten, indicated that he was displeased. His next course of action further supported this obvious fact: with a slam of his basketball-sized fist on the table, the giant leapt to his geta-covered feet and glared down from his intimidating height at his advisor. “I asked you to bring me the best of the Nukenin… AND YOU BRING ME THESE TWO? SOME SCRAWNY BOY DRESSED LIKE A TEN-YEAR-OLD, AND A WOMAN? EXPLAIN YOURSELF, KIRITSUGU!”

Despite the fact that his master was bellowing at him with a voice that could have reached Sunagakure, Kiritsugu did not so much as flinch in response - not even as specks of saliva pelted his unmoving face. Which was saying something, for Masquerade almost jumped out of his skin at the eruption; even Misami had started visibly. Once the enraged giant had ceased his bellowing, the bespectacled man calmly replied, “They were the best we could find on such short notice, Heiwajima-sama. Also, you know how reluctant people are when it comes to accepting tasks assigned by us.” Cool as a cucumber, the maroon-robed man pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket while slipping his glasses off his nose, and then proceeded to wipe the eyewear clean of saliva. The clan head watched him wordlessly, his bulky frame still shaking in anger, but remained silent as Kiristugu continued. “Things haven’t been the same since that incident with the nobleman from Kuma no Kuni. You may recall that I warned you of the repercussions of such actions. Due to your recklessness, we’re now sowing what we reaped.” His glasses now clean, Kiritsugu returned them to their correct position, and then nodded his head towards Masquerade and the unnamed kunoichi. “These two are the only ones who accepted our request. If you are against using them, Heiwajima-sama, then I will inform you that we have no one else to turn to at the moment. Unless, of course, you would rather we hire a shinobi from a Village…”

“NO!” the giant of a man bellowed, his pillar of a leg swinging forward and connecting with the table in front of him. Masquerade ducked just in time as the table flew at him and smashed into the wall behind him; a shower of splinters rained onto the floor from the impact. A startled expression etched on his face, Masquerade rose to his feet and turned back to face the clan leader, whose massive shoulders were rising up and down rapidly in synchrony with his ragged breathing. Not seeming to care (or even noticing) that he had almost flattened Masquerade during his outburst, Hokomaru took a deep breath and slumped back down onto his seat. He placed a hand against his face in annoyance. “You’re right, Kiritsugu. As always, you’re completely right,” he muttered in his growling voice. Beady eyes swung back up to look at the three smaller figures standing in front of him, before they swiveled to focus on the youngest ones. The hulking man scowled visibly at the Nukenin. “Fine, we’ll use these two. Although, I have my doubts they’ll be up to the challenge.” His disgruntled gaze returned to the Nukenin’s faces, as if awaiting a reaction from them. To his dismay, neither ninja gave a satisfactory response. Although, given one had a stern, unmoving face much like Kiritsugu’s, and the other wore a mask that rendered his expression mostly unreadable, a facial reaction would have been hard to spot anyway.

Kiritsugu pushed his glasses further up his nose with an air of confidence. “I can assure you, they will be able to complete the task.”

Heiwajima Hokomaru snorted skeptically. “We’ll see.” He leaned forward in his seat and eyed the Nukenin carefully like before. He then addressed them directly, for the first time since their arrival. “Now, since it’s been settled that you two are going to handle this job, I’ll get straight to the point. You probably already know what your mission is: to guard my daughter while she is travelling to the Kurosawa’s residential compound. My daughter will be departing at first light tomorrow, and you are to accompany her for the entirety of the journey.” Here, he stood up from his seat and walked closer to Masquerade and Misami. He stopped just a foot away from either of them, so close that the difference in height made him even more intimidating. As Hokomaru loomed over the two Nukenin, his voice took on a much more somber and quieter quality, which fitted the severe expression he wore. “And let me warn you: if anything happens to her - anything at all - I will personally make you regret you ever lived. Understand?”

With these words, the predatory aura of the burly man subsided, and he returned to his seat. The atmosphere, however, still remained the same. Though the wording of threat was hardly frightening, the intent with which it was delivered was far from it. One look at Hokomaru’s face, and Masquerade understood very clearly that this man was not one to be crossed; and in this case, if “anything” were to happen to his daughter, he would be very, very cross. A man like Heiwajima Hokomaru would certainly hold true to his threat - he was known to be a difficult person to work for, being merciless and rarely tolerant of failure. No doubt this was the reason why so few people had volunteered for this mission. Hmm, maybe everyone else had the right idea, Masquerade observed in grim humor. The Nukenin was not scared of Hokomaru’s threat (not entirely, anyway), but he did think it an issue of annoyance that he was working for such a hot-headed brute. Sure, he had known what he was stepping into when he had signed up for the job, but the fact remained that he did not particularly like Hokomaru or his aggressive nature. Still, the money was good.

“Alright, now get to work, you two. Kiritsugu will give you further details on the mission. Just remember: no harm of any sort must befall my daughter.”

“Is there a reason why any would?” a firm voice asked from beside Masquerade. Hokomaru’s eyes snapped to the kunoichi standing, and while the other males looked over in her direction more slowly, it was clear that they were also surprised by her. Misami still had the same expression of goal-oriented determination on her face as she watched Hokomaru expectantly. Said clan leader was staring at Misami in displeasure, but the fire in his eyes did not seem to faze the female ninja. In fact, when the muscled Heiwajima did not speak, she continued speaking in the same placid tenor. “What you just said right now… It sounds as if you suspect there’s a chance that something bad will happen to your daughter. We’re simply escorting her to another clan complex, one that’s just as safe as this one. Why should you be worried that something will happen to her?”

Masquerade cocked an unseen eyebrow behind his mask. His amusement was not arising from the fact that Misami was finally speaking, or that she was doing so in a slightly challenging tone; it was not even the fact that she was speaking in such a manner to a man who most likely had no qualms about killing someone for displaying insolence. No, it was the fact that her question was completely valid that piqued Masquerade’s interest. She was saying exactly what Masquerade had been thinking a few moments ago. The only difference was that he was not calling Hokomaru out on his odd choice of words. Masquerade turned to look at Hokomaru, who actually looked about ready to kick something again, but he refrained from doing so; instead, he trembled visibly in an obvious attempt to control himself. Who knew how long his self-restraint might last, though. The thought made Masquerade smirk in his mind. Yes, angering the hot-headed giant was a completely wise move. This kunoichi was either incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid. Said kunoichi was still waiting for Hokomaru to answer, but the man seemed at a loss for words; all he was capable of doing was glaring at the female. The tense and awkward seconds ticked by, until Kiritsugu came to his master’s rescue (in a sense) by clearing his throat loudly and saying, “Where Heiwajima-sama’s daughter is concerned, safety is our number one priority. We are to be prepared for everything, which is why Heiwajima-sama has hired you two in the first place. Now -.” He moved to the door and opened it, looking at the two Nukenin commandingly. “- if you would follow me, I will show you to quarters.”

“Wait,” Hokomaru interrupted, drawing everyone’s attention to him. The man got to his feet for the third time and moved closer to the trio, particularly the duo of ninja. Black eyes looked down at the Nukenin with a contemplative expression, all traces of anger having vanished from their owner’s face. When he Hokomaru next addressed the Nukenin, he did so authoritatively, yet at the same time, tenderly. “I want you to understand this situation properly. When I am asking you to escort my daughter, I am putting my utmost trust in you. Do not waste such an honor, Nukenin. Ensure that she reaches the Kurosawa clan’s headquarters safely. I am putting my faith in you.” A momentary silence followed the man’s words, during which Masquerade stared at him with raised eyebrow. He would not have pegged Hokomaru to be the sort of person to say those words to someone; especially considering how the Heiwjaima were believed to distrust all ninja in general. The fact that Hokomaru was addressing “a scrawny boy dressed like a ten-year-old, and a woman” in an almost emphatic manner made the situation even stranger. Even the wooden-faced Kiritsugu had blinked in surprise at his master’s words.

“Understood, Heiwajima-sama,” Misami answered after a few moments of silence, her furrowed brow relaxing; although, the impassive expression still remained. Masquerade, not really sure how to respond to something so ~~uncharacteristic~~ unexpected as Hokomaru’s words, merely nodded his head slowly in reply. The clan leader nodded back, the soft expression vanishing from his face as he turned around and walked away from them. Before anything else could be said, Kiristugu ordered the pair of Nukenin to follow him out of the room.

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

“You will be leaving for the Kurosawa clan headquarters at daybreak, as Heiwajima-sama said. You are free to rest here until then, or whatever else it is you wish to do. You cannot, however, leave the complex. Understood?”

Once the two shinobi had given their replies, the maroon-robed man shut the shōji door and left them to themselves. With the guide having departed, Masquerade resumed his examining of the latest room he and his partner in crime had been brought to. It was the same size as the first room they had been in, and just as bland and plain. Although, along with the low table, there was a futon for each of them folded neatly in one corner of the room. Plus, there was an actual window in the room - a round one that allowed a decent view of the night sky and the full moon outside. His brief inspection of the room now over, Masquerade next directed his attention to his partner, who was seated at the low table in exactly the same manner as when he had first seen her. Really, was that all she did? Was she even meditating, or was that how she slept? With an unseen roll of his eyes, Masquerade strolled over to her and sat down cross-legged on the floor, on the opposite end of the table from her. Folding his arms across his chest, he fixed his sights on her face and waited silently. An entire minute went by, and Misami did not open her eyes or otherwise move at all; similarly, Masquerade did not say anything to attract her attention, waiting with a disinterested expression. He knew she had to be aware of his presence across the table. Either she did not know he was looking at her, or she was purposely ignoring him. So she was either lost in whatever trance she had fallen into, or she was being insolent.

Joyous. Such an interesting person to be teamed up with, the blonde Nukenin thought sarcastically. The minutes passed by slowly, and neither Nukenin moved from their respective positions; the room was silent save for the sounds of nature entering through the open window. There was no point to this childish game except boredom, though Masquerade had to admit the game itself was becoming boring very fast. So, after sitting for fifteen minutes without uttering a word or making a sound, he decided to finally break the silence. He leaned forward on the table, elbows propping his arms upwards and his fingers intertwined together, and did his best attempt at a cordial smile (which seemed uncannily similar to his mocking one). “Sooo…”

“Please don’t feel the need to make conversation. I don’t have any interest in talking to you.” With the same curtness that was in her response, Misami opened her chocolate-brown eyes briefly to shoot Masquerade a firm look, before closing them and returning to her detached silence. An awkward silence hung in the room for a few seconds, during which Masquerade just stared at Misami. So then - she had been aware that he had been sitting here, and she had been ignoring him; and she was inexplicably hostile towards him too! Not many people would say something like that out loud, especially to a stranger. How amusing… and unexpected. Having been initially caught off-guard by the girl’s reply, the male Nukenin eventually found his voice and spoke.

“Well… I have no idea how to reply to that,” he said simply, momentarily shifting his face to the left in confusion. A second later, as if regaining his focus, he faced Misami again. “I’m not one to socialize either, but I believe it would be prudent if we exchanged information about ourselves - to ensure that we can work together more efficiently during this mission. Don’t you agree?” He paused with his head tilted expectantly at Misami, awaiting her reply (should she be bothered to even give one). As luck would have, Misami was willing to “grace” Masquerade with her attention. The kunoichi opened her eyes and looked steadily at Masquerade.

“Just stay out of my way, and we’ll be fine,” she answered brusquely.

Bug-like eyes narrowed behind the opaque blue visor as the girl spoke. The fingers on Masquerade hand twitched ever-so-slightly in the midst of their linkage with the other hand’s fingers, but otherwise Misami received no other reaction from Masquerade. No other irritated one, that is. In fact, his next words held an air of dubiousness rather than irritation, as he asked her with a skeptical grin, “Is that confidence, or conceit?”

The next thing he knew, a glinting point of metal was suddenly pointing at his masked face. The grin on his face inverting into a frown, Masquerade surveyed the sword that was hovering an inch in front of the space between his eyes. Said katana was being pointed at him by the kunoichi sitting across the table from him, her eyes narrowed fiercely. “You tell me,” she remarked lightly, though her facial features were still hard. The male Nukenin’s frown intensified, and for the briefest moment one corner of his lip curled upward in a snarl.

He was not going to deny it: he had not seen Misami unsheathe her katana. He had been certain that it had been in its scabbard when he had been talking, though. The fact of the matter was: the girl had drawn her sword with a swiftness that Masquerade’s eye could not follow. Ergo, had she wanted, the kunoichi could very well have given Masquerade a nasty cut without his realizing. He might have been able to evade without being fatally wounded, but he would have been wounded nonetheless. Still, hardly a comforting thought. Anyway, he was willing to acknowledge that she was faster than he was, and most likely better at close-range combat than he was (then again, so were a lot of ninja). Despite the fact that he had a blade aimed at his vulnerable face, Masquerade grinned at his partner - though half-heartedly. “If saying it was conceit means you would run me through, then I suppose my answer is obvious.”

Misami did not seem amused by Masquerade’s remark, nor did she appear to be affected by his mocking tone. She merely retracted her blade and returned it to its place within the red scabbard. With that done, she looked pointedly at Masquerade. “Like I said before, I don’t have any interest in talking to you. Now, refrain from disturbing me. I’ve no time for your useless chatter.”

Again, an unseen narrowing of green eyes was the only physical reaction Misami’s remark elicited. However, Masquerade was not going to simply let the conversation end here; he was not going to just let both of them lapse back into another bout of silence. There was a reason why someone as unsociable as he was would even bother to start a dialogue with a total stranger. The boy lowered his elbows from their raised position and leaned forward across the table, an action that implied he was being serious. “Kakeru Misami, I understand that you do not want to waste time making idle talk - neither do I. I only began conversing because I felt that, seeing as we’ll be working together, we should perhaps come up with a plan of action for our mission. We should discuss strategies for how to best protect Heiwajima Hokomaru’s daughter, don’t you think?”

If Misami thought his thinking was rational, she did not indicate as such. “There’s no need to discuss plans for the mission. Kiritsugu-san told me upon my arrival that he had everything planned out and prepared. Our job is only to accompany the carriage on its way. Everything else has already been sorted out.”

“Is that so?” Hearing this, the blonde Nukenin grimaced, placing a finger on his upper lip in thought. Kiritsugu could have at least told him that, or was he expecting his partner to tell him that herself? Well, it had only taken a near-stab to the face with a sword to extract that information. “Hmph. Heiwajima Kiritsugu seems to have overlooked the need to inform me of that.”

For the first time since he had met her, a smirk appeared on Misami’s face; a smirk that seemed just as deriding as Masquerade’s. “Maybe he doesn’t think you’re fit to complete the mission. I can see why he would think that.”

Oh?

“And besides,” Misami continued, her tone now flat and her face expressionless, “I said it before: just stay out of my way, and we’ll be fine.” With that, the girl slipped back into silence, though she continued to watch Masquerade with her hawk-like glare. The sweetest of smiles shaped itself onto Masquerade’s mouth in response to her comment - a smile that was so fake, even a blind man could have seen it. While he appeared completely calm on the outside, in his mind Masquerade was fighting the urge to reach over and throttle the girl with the stupid bow on her head. Indeed, the momentary twitch of his fingers alluded to these thoughts. He was not irate because she had insulted him, or because she thought she was better than him in particular. No, it was the fact that she was being so arrogant that annoyed him. Frankly, he was rather unenthusiastic that she was his partner - there was just something about this girl that straight-up pissed him off. It could be the stupid bow. The point was, he found her presence to be quite displeasing. Judging from Misami’s attitude towards him so far, the feeling was mutual. Oh, what joy.

Masquerade had half a mind to do what any textbook Nukenin would do, and assault Misami for daring to insult him, but he did not. Why? Because he had been taught to never disrespect someone of the opposite gender, a deeply-rooted moral lesson that he often wished he had never been taught. Nevertheless, that ideal was what resulted in Masquerade not corroding Misami’s pretty little face off, but instead sighing heavily before spreading his arms wide in defeat. “Very well. Do whatever you want,” the blonde stated exasperatedly. The kunoichi’s unfaltering gaze of brown followed the boy as he rose to his feet and made his way to the door. “I’m not one to quarrel with a woman anyway, no matter how much she annoys me.” Standing in front of the exit, the boy grimaced and looked over his shoulder slightly, making sure the girl got the message. Masquerade then waved a gloved hand dismissively at her, turning away as he slid the door open. “Go back to your meditation, or whatever it is you keep doing with your eyes closed. I, meanwhile, am going to pay Heiwajima Kiritsugu a visit.” Though his associate could not see it from her angle, a scowl had appeared on the boy’s face, and he added in an aggravated mutter as he exited: “And see if there’s anything else he forgot to mention to me about the mission.”

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The next few hours were relatively uneventful, passing by quickly enough that the party’s departure time was soon upon them. By the time dawn was only a quarter of an hour away, the pair of Nukenin could be found standing by the gates of the complex; the same gates that they had both entered through upon their initial arrival. Nearby, there stood a highly-decorative and skillfully-crafted carriage of a gold and crimson color combination; the horse-drawn carriage already had its driver and horses prepared for departure. The surroundings were still shrouded in darkness, though the soon-to-rise Sun had already begun to lighten the area. All was quiet in the complex, as most of the occupants were still asleep. Masquerade stood beside his silent partner, arms crossed and staring blankly into a patch of darkness in a plantation of trees behind him. He, for one, wanted to get this mission started with already. Not for the thrill of the task, but merely because he was already sick of the Heiwajima clan and his partner.

Hmm, he really needed to do something about his misanthropy.

The sound of footsteps on cobblestones drew the Nukenin duo’s attention, and they both directed their focus to the four figures approaching them from a nearby path. Two were guards, both clad in samurai-style armor and wielding a halberd, flanking the other two leading people. The third figure was Kiritsugu, and the fourth figure walking beside him was none other than Hokomaru’s daughter, Heiwajima Mikuru. A pink-haired woman probably Masquerade’s age or thereabouts with a kind face, she was dressed in a simple yet elegant white dress. The heiress stood at a height that the Nukenin guessed was probably a few inches above five feet, and radiated with a graceful aura that befitted someone of her status. As he surveyed the Heiwajima heiress, Masquerade noted how dissimilar Mikuru was to her father in terms of appearance. Clearly, the pink-haired beauty had not taken after her father when it came to looks. Perhaps her mother, then?

Kiritsugu gestured to the Nukenin to come closer, and once they had done so, he briefly introduced Mikuru to them, and them to her. Once both Nukenin had been introduced, the bride smiled pleasantly at the two of them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Misami-san, Masquerade-san. I wish you good luck on your mission, and I look forward to working with you.” Misami nodded her head in reply, whereas Masquerade made a sound somewhere between a “Hmph” and a grunt. While he normally would not be so callous to a woman, he felt it was best to keep as much distance as he could from Mikuru, seeing as her father was (for lack of a better word) “crazy” when it came to her safety. God knew how Hokomaru would react if he found out that his daughter had gotten all “chummy-chummy” with shinobi. The Head of Heiwajima was sure to distrust shinobi as much as his subjects; perhaps even more.

The black-haired advisor directed his attention to a pocket watch in his hand, before pocketing it and turning to the heiress. “It’s time, Mikuru-dono,” Kiritsugu informed the pink-haired woman. Mikuru nodded, and the two guards then led her to the waiting wagon. As she walked away, Kiritsugu turned to Masquerade and Misami and gave them a warning look. “Remember, do not let any harm come to Mikuru-sama, or else Heiwajima-sama will - well, I’m sure you have an idea of what kinds of things he’ll do to you if anything happens to his daughter.”

“You have my word, Kiritsugu-san,” Misami stated in a formal tone. “I will ensure Mikuru-sama’s safety.” She placed a hand on her chest, as if making an oath. Beside her, Masquerade gave a half-hearted shrug.

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

Walking. Walking. Walking.

That was all they had been doing for the past several hours. Upon departing from the Heiwajima compound, the party had since then been travelling straight and, save for a couple of short breaks, nonstop. The sky was dark and clear, the full moon and innumerable dots of stars shining brightly on the endless stretch of blue-black. It had been nearly thirteen hours since the group had begun their journey, and at the rate they were going, they still had a minimum of two more hours until they reached their destination. The annoying thing was, the trip need not have be taking them this long: they could have arrived at the Kurosawa clan’s headquarters after only a five hour trek. Yet, the party was taking twice as long, nearly three times as long in fact. The simplest reason for this would be that the group was lost, but that was not the case. Rather, it was a little thing called “tradition” that was extending their journey.

It had all been explained to Masquerade the previous night, when he had gone to Kiritsugu’s office to inquire whether there were any details regarding the mission that the Nukenin was unaware of. Amongst other things, one of the pieces of information that Masquerade was given by the clan leader’s right-hand man was a map of the path that Mikuru’s carriage would be taking to reach the Kurosawa complex. Upon inspecting the map, one detail struck Masquerade as odd, which was that the chosen path was much longer, as well as more out-of-the-way, as compared to another path. The second path would bring Mikuru to her destination in a few hours, whereas the first road would take significantly longer. When Masquerade had pointed this fact out to Kiritsugu, the bespectacled man had informed the Nukenin that it was a clan tradition. Apparently, it was customary for a female of the Heiwajima clan to be wed at the groom’s home. Furthermore, convention called for the bride to undertake a journey through a certain road in order to reach the aforementioned groom’s residence.

“No matter how off-track the road is from the destination,” Kiritsugu had added with a wag of his finger. “Think of it as a sacred ritual, if you would. All women of the Heiwajima clan have to perform this ritual.”

Apparently, there was a wealth of history behind the origination of the tradition, but Masquerade had been too irked by the fact that the mission was being made unnecessarily difficult to be bothered to care. Since he did not ask, Kiritsugu did not explain, so the matter was left as it was. The stoic man had offered Masquerade the map, saying it would be best if he and his partner were to commit the path to memory. After considering whether he ought to keep the information about the map to himself until asked by his partner (and eventually deciding against it, for the sake of ease in completing the mission), Masquerade had begun his examination of the inky contents on the parchment.

The Heiwajima bride’s carriage had travelled through a clearly marked dirt path, one cutting through a dense forest. While trudging through the forest, the party had passed through a small cave and navigated the tunnels within to the exit, whereupon they had found themselves at the bottom of a large ravine. With the ravine fortunately dry, the group was able to make their way to the top of this depression in the Earth’s crust. From there, it was back inside a lush thicket of trees and flora. Aside from marching through a mountain pass and weaving around a lake or two, the march was solely on a tree-lined path of dirt and pebbles. As mentioned earlier, the group did stop every now and then, though it was only for a brief rest. There was only one instant when the party was stationary for more than a few minutes, and that was when Mikuru’s guards decided it was time for her lunch. Otherwise, they had only stopped three times during the whole trip; and only for five minutes at most.

Masquerade was bored. There was no other way to put it: he was bored of just walking. Sure, there was a great deal of breathtaking scenery to behold, and being an admirer of Nature’s beauty, he could appreciate what he got to see. However, there were only so many times you could look in awe at the surroundings before you got bored of them. Plus, the boy could not exactly focus on the environment around him, not when he was supposed to be protecting the heiress; it was his job to guard Heiwajima Mikuru, after all. Though, even that was turning out to be pretty boring. Nothing exciting or eventful had happened, nothing that would require the intervention of a shinobi (or even a non-shinobi guard, for that matter); neither Masquerade’s nor Misami’s skills had been required as of yet. The bride was seated alone in her closed carriage, so Masquerade could not even entertain himself by interacting with her - not that he could even be bothered to; and though he had even less desire to do so, he could not even strike up a conversation with his ~~stuck-up~~ ambitious partner Misami, for he and she were positioned differently around the wagon.

The kunoichi led the way, marching attentively ahead of the horse-drawn carriage with her eyes scanning the surroundings continuously; on either side of the carriage, level with the doors, were the two armored Heiwajima guards who were accompanying Mikuru, each riding on a horse of his own and with his halberds pointed to the sky; and finally, bringing up the rear was Masquerade, his assignment to watch the convoy’s back. The two Nukenin’s positioning had been, in a sense, Masquerade’s idea; he had suggested to Misami before they left: “If I could make a suggestion, Kakeru Misami: why don’t you guard the front of the group, while I guard the rear? This way, along with the two guards on either side of the carriage, we will have all sides covered and being watched.” At that point, the boy’s voice had dripped with mockery as he had sneered, “Plus, this way I’ll be out of your way, just as you wished. Isn’t that wonderful?” Aside from a brief glance of distaste at the male, Misami had given no other response: other than to take position at the front of the group, just as Masquerade had proposed.

In present time, Masquerade smirked slightly as he recalled that little incident. His grin of entertainment disappeared however, when he heard the neighing of a horse, and noticed that the wagon in front of him had come to a halt. So, too, had the two horse-riding guards (those lucky people had been riding on those creatures the entire trip, while Masquerade and Misami had been forced to walk on foot - but that was beside the point). The male Nukenin wondered what the reason was for this sudden stop. From what he had been told, it was not yet time for Mikuru’s dinner (that was not until another hour at least), and they certainly could not have reached their destination yet - it was far too early for both scenarios. Frowning, Masquerade moved closer to the wagon, and inquired of one of the armored guards: “What happened? Why are we stopping?”

The targeted guard looked down at Masquerade, and the boy could see the same puzzlement on his face that he himself felt. The Heiwajima shrugged ignorantly, answering that Masquerade’s “friend” had signaled for them to stp. Friend? Hardly, he thought crossly in reply. Out loud, he remarked to the guard, “Watch the rear.” With that, he marched towards Misami. As he passed the wagon, Masquerade spotted Mikuru looking out of the window perplexedly, her jade green eyes following the blonde Nukenin as he passed her door. No doubt she was also wondering why the coach had come to halt. Well, he was going to find out. As Masquerade approached Misami, he posed the query to her: “Something wrong, Kakeru Misami?” As he looked down at her shorter form, Masquerade noticed that Misami was scanning the trees ahead carefully, her brown eyes shifting swiftly from shadowy tree to shadowy tree. What was more, her grip on the scabbard in her left hand was tense, and she had her right hand clasped around the hilt of her sheathed katana, as if she was preparing to draw it. While Masquerade was putting these visual clues together and arriving at a deduction as to what they implied, the girl answered his question with a single word, her brow furrowed in concentration as she did so.

“Ambush.”

As if that lone word was a signal, the sound of incoming footsteps reached Masquerade’s ears. He instinctively directed his gaze ahead of himself, and saw several figures emerging from the shadowy gaps between the trees. Said figures were clad in black garments from head to toe; the only uncovered parts of their body’s being their eyes, and their hair (should they have any), with these pigmented features consisting of mostly natural colors. A single glance was enough to indicate that the identical outfits were an official uniform of sorts, despite the plainness of the design. Each figure was brandishing a weapon of some sort, consisting of items such as katana, halberds, and maces; they had the whole lot. The men, who numbered about fifteen from a quick head count, were slowly inching towards the two Nukenin, their weapons raised in a clear gesture of hostility. You did not have to be a Nara to know what was about to happen: these “bandits” (as Masquerade subconsciously dubbed them) were clearly here for Mikuru. That, or they were merely seeking to ransack any passing vehicle - although, Masquerade was leaning more to the former being true. Considering how many people they were facing, it felt logical to think that these masked menaces were here for the heiress. Furthermore, they all looked ready to fight for her. How wonderful.

From the depths of the pack, a golden-haired male stepped forward, the muscles around his narrow, yellow-hued eyes tensed from the smile on his hidden face. A faintly muffled yet hoarse voice issued from this man as he addressed the Nukenin, “Listen up, kiddies! You’ve got two choices: either you hand over the woman in that carriage without any issues, or we take her by force.” The man, who was presumably the leader of the group, grinned widely behind his mask and jerked his head to at the line of armed males behind him. “And just so you know, me and my boys tend to get a little “crazy” when we use force…” The “boys” snickered maliciously in unison, creating a rather disturbing sound with their joint laughter. Even the yellow-haired leader allowed himself a pleased cackle as he rested his scythe on his shoulders, waiting for the Nukenin’s responses.

Of course, there was really no debating to be done here: the ninja had been hired to step in should this very situation occur, and now that it had, it was their job to protect the bride. That being said, the odds were hardly comforting: about twenty armed thugs, versus two Nukenin. Well, maybe it would not be impossible, but difficulty might still be a factor. Masquerade frowned at the bandits, tensing his body as he readied himself for battle; before he could do anything else, however, Misami had blocked his path with her outstretched scabbard. The male glanced over at the female, who was eyeing the newcomers resolutely. “I’ll handle them alone,” she remarked in a quiet voice to Masquerade, softly enough that her voice would not carry over to their adversaries. “You guard the carriage.” Drawing her sword, the kunoichi lunged at the group, so fast that Masquerade nearly missed her dash. Her targets, however, did not seem to be as observant, for Misami had struck down one bandit and was already rushing another when her opponents realized what was happening.

“Force it is, then,” the bandit leader could be heard remarking coolly. He snapped his finger, and with a simultaneous burst of battle cries, his men swarmed towards Misami, weapons raised and ready for battle. The kunoichi, however, was not overwhelmed by them; she easily cut her way through the horde and maintained her stance. Even when the bandit leader joined in on the fighting, she still held her ground and held the bandits back. Despite having the advantage of greater numbers, the bandits could not manage to land a hit on the swordswoman; obviously, she possessed a noteworthy amount of skill when it came to combat. This came as no surprise to Masquerade, for he had managed to ~~painstakingly~~ extract some information about his partner’s skills before their departure. The kunoichi’s fighting style centered upon close-range combat, namely in the areas of Taijutsu and Kenjutsu. Seeing as Masquerade did not excel in such forms of combat, Misami was more suited for the current task than he was.

Seems like staying out of her way is the best course of action. Seeing that his partner would be able to hold her ground, the male Nukenin took a step back and turned around to face the carriage and the people surrounding it; namely, the two guards and the driver of the vehicle. Said three men were watching the fight occurring behind Masquerade’s back with wide eyes, unsure as to what they should do. No doubt they were wondering whether they ought to lend Misami a hand, in spite of the way she was dominating the fight. Wordlessly, the Nukenin leaped onto the carriage’s roof and turned around to look down at the driver, who met the former’s obscured eyes with his own worried ones. Masquerade pointed to the path ahead. “You heard her: get going.” The order was not delivered harshly or authoritatively, but in a calm, sensible tone, as if the Masquerade’s command was the most logical course of action to follow. The driver still looked worried but did not argue; he pulled at the horse’s reigns and got the wagon moving forward once more.

The vehicle’s resumed motion caught the attention of the bandit leader, who shouted out to his men to stop it. A section of the enemy group broke off from the main bunch and began to charge towards the carriage, but they were struck down by Misami before they came even close. Masquerade watched through his peripherals as the bandit leader cursed loudly and turned to focus on the kunoichi with the remainder of his men. Although the rear-based trouble was not an issue now, there was still another obstacle to overcome. The horse-drawn carriage was suddenly slowing down, courtesy of the four bandits appearing out of the woods ahead to block its path. Masquerade eyes whipped forwards, and he grimaced at the sight. Fortunately, he did not have to react any further, for the two Heiwajima guards accompanying the coach wordlessly charged at the blockade of enemies. Their mounts giving them the better advantage, they made quick work of the four bandits, much to Masquerade’s surprise; and here he had been thinking that the guards would be completely unreliable. Perhaps that wouldn’t be the case.

The path ahead now clear, the wagon picked up speed and rolled away from the fighting on its wooden wheels. The horse drawing the wagon was galloping along rapidly, flanked by the battle-ready guards, whose steeds were matching the pace of their brother. Masquerade glanced back briefly from his perch on the vehicle’s roof to survey the battle behind them. Misami was still occupying the bandits’ attention; it was an easy to tell that the kunoichi meant to ensure that no one pursued the carriage, and also that the bandits facing her would not attempt to give pursuit until they took her down. Content with the knowledge that both sides were going to fight to the bitter end, Masquerade directed his attention forward, keeping an eye on the road ahead. The darkness of night made it difficult to see anything clearly, but regardless of this disadvantage, he had to stay alert and keep the bride out of harm’s way. Speaking of the bride…

“What’s going on out there? Hey! Someone answer me! What’s happening?” Masquerade peered over the roof’s edge to spot the pink-haired head of Mikuru sticking out of the carriage’s window, looking around earnestly. Her face then turned upwards as Masquerade addressed her from above.

“Pardon me, Milady, but we seem to have run into a slight bit of trouble.” The Nukenin gestured lazily to the scene they were fleeing from. “I would suggest you stay inside the carriage, and lock the door.”

“But -.”

“I insist.” The woman heard the forceful tone in his words, and obeyed without argument, retreating into the safety of her cabin. That issue being sorted out, Masquerade could now focus on another one. The coach was continuously shaking and wobbling from travelling so quickly over the rough dirt-and-stone path. Needless to say, the ride was quite uncomfortable for Masquerade, and he had a feeling that Mikuru was hardly enjoying the experience inside either, even if she had the comfort of a cushioned seat. But more importantly than comfort, at the speed they were going, it was only a matter of time before the vehicle toppled over from the combination of its momentum and weight. If Masquerade had not been holding onto the rail lining the edges of the carriage’s roof, he would have long since been thrown off the vehicle. To ensure that scenario did not become any more probable, as the vehicle gave another worrying lurch from hitting a bump in the road, Masquerade snapped down at the driver over the blowing wind, “Slow down, or we’ll tip over!”

The driver thankfully heard him, and with a pull of the reigns he slowed the cart down enough that the ride was less perilous; the horse was basically trotting now. Such a slow pace would be unwise in a flight for freedom, but given there was no one chasing them (as far as Masquerade could tell from a quick glance back), it was better to travel safely than risk overturning the vehicle and injuring everyone on board. The battle between the bandits and the female Nukenin was no longer visible, seeing as the party had taken a number of turns during their escape. The sounds from the battle could just barely be heard now, but they were still there. So long as the noises were still present, it meant that Misami was still keeping the ambushers busy; which meant they were most likely too engaged to pursue them. Masquerade sighed with relief. At the very least, the first hurdle had been overcome. He glanced momentarily out of the corner of his eye at the two guards following closely behind. Even if someone from the ambush group had managed to break free and was pursuing them, then Masquerade was certain that they could be dealt with. With himself and the two Heiwajima guards here, the Nukenin was confident that the heiress could be protected from harm. If they could just make it out this damned forest safely, it ought to be smooth sailing from thereon. Hopefully.

The boy was pulled out of his thoughts as something in his peripherals caught his attention. Body reacting instinctively, the Nukenin leaped off the coach just as something thin and pointed landed on the spot where he had been crouching. The boy somersaulted backwards through the air and landed on a tree branch nearby. Crouched in a frog-like manner on the thick limb, the blonde’s eyes narrowed behind his visor as he eyed the object that had almost struck him. It was an arrow. His eyes narrowed further as he slid his gaze to the other three males in the group. A frown formed on his masked face at the sight he saw: each man had an arrow wedged in their throats. The limpness of their bodies and their lack of control on their horses made it clear enough that they were dead. If Masquerade had not dodged in time, he would have been experiencing the same fate as well.

Perfect. Just perfect, the Jinchuuriki thought grimly.

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Special Characteristics Used:

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

Well, so much for the Heiwajima guards being useful. What a shame, that just after their five seconds of glory, they would be killed without knowing what had hit them. How disappointing. Although, the guards’ underwhelming performance in this mission was not the only disappointing phenomenon; Masquerade was also disappointed at himself. Green eyes watched as two pairs of black-garbed bandits, each equipped with an archery bow, emerged from the dark woods and out onto the moonlit path; unlike the ones from before, these bandits were completely covered from head to foot in black, though they had the same eye holes in their cloth masks as their aforementioned brothers. At the sight of the archers, the youth could not help but press a hand against his face in frustration. How stupid of him, not to predict that the enemy might have some of their own stationed ahead of the ambush point to intercept a possible escape attempt. Now, because of his poor foresight, he was the only one left to protect Mikuru. Unless Misami was finished on her end, though Masquerade was not willing to bet on that. Sighing in exasperation, Masquerade lowered his hand from his face, and watched from his perch as the four archers paused to glance around at their surroundings. It took the Nukenin a moment to realize that they were looking for him: clearly, they had not seen where he had vanished to after dodging their attack; what was more, they could not see him currently positioned in one of the many tree branches hanging over the path. How fortuitous.

Silently leaping back onto another tree so as to better seclude himself, the boy watched as the four bandits began making their way to the now-stationary carriage. Why was the carriage stationary? Well, aside from the fact that the carriage’s driver was dead, there was also the unfortunate fact that the horse had also been killed. Yes, the archers had killed not only the three humans, but their horses as well. Despite the grimness of the situation, Masquerade had to admire the archers for their skill: these four had managed to fire seven arrows almost simultaneously, killing six of their seven intended targets with almost a nanosecond’s time difference between each kill. Yes, they were skilled archers indeed, which was probably why they had been chosen for this task in the first place. But they were not ninja, for a ninja would have been able to follow Masquerade’s movements; a ninja would have been able to spot where he had vanished to after jumping off the carriage. Since they were not shinobi, it might make dispatching so many of them easier. Masquerade may be confident in his abilities, but even he doubted whether he could emerge victorious in a four-on-one battle between shinobi. A four-on-one between a ninja and faceless bandits, however…

Swinging down from the higher branch onto a lower one, Masquerade then made his way closer to the coach as silently and swiftly as he could. The four bandits were now at the vehicle’s door, with one of them banging on it and shouting at the occupant inside to open it. As he made his way to the vehicle, Masquerade wondered for a moment how Mikuru must be feeling. Scared? Most likely. She was no doubt a little disoriented, since the carriage had gone out of control briefly upon the death of its driver and horse. Following that, the vehicle’s momentum had kept it moving forward until a bump in the road had forcibly brought it to a sudden halt; the abrupt lurch that would accompanied the unexpected halt would surely have unbalanced the carriage’s occupant. Assuming she was out of her daze by now, she should definitely be worried about her safety at this point. She ought to have been able to put two and two together and come to an understanding as to what was happening outside; if she had not already seen all that had transpired through the carriage’s windows. Whatever the case, Masquerade was certain that Mikuru would be too frightened to leave the carriage, especially with the loud, raspy voice of an archer shouting at her to open the door. Yes, she would certainly be too scared to open the - oh, good grief.

Masquerade nearly gave away his position with an outraged outburst as he spotted the carriage door slowly opening. The slightly disheveled form of Mikuru appeared in the doorway, looking down at the four bandits with an anxious face. The foremost bandit, the one that had been knocking on the door, winked flirtatiously at the female and ran a hand over his covered head (as if he was stroking his hair). “Hey there, Beautiful. Fancy a drink?” The man’s words elicited headshakes from his comrades, and one of them given smacked a hand against his forehead. Mikuru blinked at the archers in confusion, and her eyes then took notice of the dead Heiwajima around. Apprehension returned to her face as she realized what was happening. Just as she was about to open her mouth (no doubt to ask the men what they wanted), a loud thud sounded above her as a weight landed upon the carriage’s roof. The four men and the single woman looked up simultaneously at the crouched figure perched atop the vehicle, the moonlight shining down on his back and throwing his front in faint shadow. With a grin, Masquerade gave the four men a two-fingered wave.

“Yo.”

The reaction was instantaneous. The first archer, the one who had knocked on the carriage’s door, immediately exclaimed to his compatriots, “It’s the ninja! Get him!”. Said man’s hand then flew to the quiver of arrows on his back as he pulled out an arrow and set it on his bow, aiming it at the masked ninja. His associates did the same, arming their own bows, and all in about a second. However, before they managed to fire, the archers were suddenly distracted by a loud yelp of surprise; or rather, the three back-most bandits were. These three were staring down at the head of their comrade, which was sticking out of the ground as if he had been pulled into the earth - and that was exactly what had happened. Before the black-clad men could properly process what had happened, a figure erupted from the ground in front of one of them and wedged a kunai into his body, prior to promptly punching the same man in the face. The injured archer stepped back with a cry of pain, glaring along with his brothers at Masquerade, who stood ready for battle, one side of his mouth curled into a smirk. The Masquerade on the carriage, who had not moved an inch during the whole event, smirked just as smugly before vanishing in a puff of smoke, his status as a mere Bunshin evident now. The remaining Masquerade now literally stood between the bandits and the carriage.

“Damned ninja!” the first archer shouted from the ground, looking rather comical as an angered head sticking out of the dirt. He glared viciously at his motionless comrades. “Well, don’t just stand there! Get him! Teach him a lesson! Show him no mercy! No mercy, ya hear? No merc-ARGH!” The irate head was silenced when Masquerade’s boot collided with the speaker’s face, breaking his nose and probably other things in a flow of blood. The force of the kick also seemed to be enough to knock the man out, a fortunate occurrence; no need to have a head giving commentary during what was to come.

Turning his attention away from the incapacitated bandit, Masquerade surveyed the remaining three. Even from this distance, he could barely distinguish one bandit from the other, as they all shared the same eye color even. Archer 2, the one that had been stabbed, was still on his feet, but he was grimacing down at the kunai wedged into his left wrist. Masquerade had originally been aiming for a vital organ, but his opponent’s reflexes had caused him to strike off-target (which was Masquerade’s way of saying that he had misaimed his thrust). Still, the injured bandit now had a damaged hand, and for an archer, that was a disadvantage; he also seemed slightly disoriented from Masquerade’s punch (though, Masquerade’s hand was still aching from having done something he so rarely did). The other two bandits were of course still unharmed, but the Nukenin had managed to gauge their strength now. These four were solely archers and not that skilled in close-combat (neither was Masquerade, but he was certain that he was better at it than they), and also lacked the reflexes needed keep up with the swiftness of a shinobi. Even if they had praise-worthy skill with a bow, it would be hard for them to hit Masquerade, especially since their shots were noticeable slower than his own reflexes (as he had proven earlier). In other words, these archers were nothing more than your standard “mooks”. Easy pickings, even for someone like Masquerade. A smirk briefly appeared on the boy’s face as he eyed the archers. He ought to be able to dispatch them all without any difficulty.

But first… The blonde swung around and clasped Mikuru’s wrist tightly in his hand, his masked face directed at her own anxious - and at the moment, surprised - face. In a low hiss of a voice, Masquerade snapped at the woman still standing at the door of the carriage: “I told you to stay inside the carriage, didn’t I?” Mikuru looked at him bashfully, opening her mouth to answer, but Masquerade did not wait for a reply. Instead, he shoved the girl backwards into the coach, ignoring the cry of pain she gave as she landed on the wooden floor. “This time, do as I say.” Face set in a deadpan state, Masquerade snapped the door shut and turned back to face the trio of bandits. He did not care if he was being rude, or if he had perhaps broken something by pushing her like that. He had told the idiotic woman to stay inside, yet she had gone and done the exact opposite, and at the very moment when she should not have. She seemed to be as foolish as her father was strong.

Masquerade brought his focus back to the situation at hand, namely the three bandits he was facing off against. Dispatching them should not take more than a few minutes, of that he was confident. He readied himself for a fight at the exact moment that the three archers drew their bows and took aim. However, their bows had just come to a halt on his form when Masquerade’s hands were completing a set of hand seals. Tsuchi no Pitto. Without warning, the ground beneath Archers 2 and 3 crumbled and disappeared, plunging the two startled men into its depths. The remaining bandit (who had become, by default, Archer 4) was unperturbed by the cries of his fellows as they dropped into the hole, his aim remaining true and locked on Masquerade; it probably helped that he had fired the arrow the moment Masquerade had executed his jutsu. As such, while Masquerade did not have to worry at present about Archers 2 and 3, he still had to deal with the fourth one. Fortunately, as an Iryou Ninja, Masquerade had practiced the art of evasion, thus allowing him to avoid the single arrow that was fired his way. Unfortunately, since he had less than a second to react to the oncoming arrow (plus, he was just recovering from the execution of a jutsu), the dodge was not a perfect one: the arrow grazed Masquerade’s left bicep, leaving a shallow cut.

However, that was all the projectile would manage to do, for the Nukenin had otherwise emerged unscathed as he charged at the remaining archer, his feet propelling him forwards the moment the arrow passed by him. Archer 4 swore audibly and hurriedly tried to set another arrow onto his bow and aim it at Masquerade. He had barely taken aim when the boy was upon him. One gloved hand shot forward and grabbed the shaft of the arrow, dragging the object, the bow it was set on, and the hands that held it, all downwards as the arrowhead’s tip was plunged into the archer’s leg; almost simultaneously, a kunai was wedged into the man’s other knee. The black-garbed man yelped in pain and let go of his bow, grabbing hold of each knee with a hand. As the archer doubled over, Masquerade reached over the former’s head and pulled out one of the arrows in his quiver; the action was followed up by the ninja jabbing the arrow into the latter’s neck. The pointed tip of the arrowhead pierced into the base of the archer’s neck, causing him to slump forward onto the ground lifelessly. Masquerade bent down and yanked his kunai out of the corpse’s knee, before directing his attention to the pit in which the other two archers were.

Pulling out and explosive tag from his pouch and tying it to the ring at the base of his kunai’s hilt, Masquerade then swiftly marched over to the hole in the ground. Peering inside it, he was treated to the slightly amusing sight of the two men scrambling to climb out of the hole. Due to the adhesive muddy lining the walls and floor of the pit, their efforts were fruitless, as they would merely slid back down to the bottom of the pit after climbing less than halfway up the walls. Masquerade smirked at the sight, calling down to the archers to draw their attention. Archers 2 and 3 looked up at the call, and were met with the sight of a kunai being tossed down towards. The metal knife dug into the wall between the two men, and as they glanced towards it perplexedly, Masquerade activated the tag attached to the kunai. The ensuing explosion caused the Nukenin to take a few steps back from the mouth of the pit, watching as a miniature fireball rose out from the hole, like a dragon breathing fire. The sound of the explosion muffled any screams which the archers may have given.

As the blaze died down, sighed and Masquerade glanced around at the surroundings to make sure he had not missed anything or anyone. He soon spotted his other kunai (the one he had originally used to stab Archer 2 with) lying a few feet away from the corpse of Archer 4. Masquerade vaguely recalled Archer 2 pulling it out of his hand and tossing it aside after Masquerade’s failed attempt to stab him. Walking over to the discarded weapon and picking it up, the boy wiped the kunai clean on the grass, before returning it to his pouch. Standing up, Masquerade’s next action was to once again look around at his work. One incapacitated, three dead; and he had not even worked up a sweat. Although, considering the fact that they had not even been ninja, it was not really that great of an achievement. Still, it had been fun - or invigorating, he supposed the correct word would be. All that uneventful walking had been boring him to death. Even someone as cautious and loath towards fighting like Masquerade was had been craving action. Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how one saw it), he had gotten it. Perhaps this mission would not be so boring after all.

Oh yes, the mission - or more specifically: the bride. Masquerade looked over at the carriage. Hmm, perhaps he had best apologize to Mikuru for being so rough with her. After all, he had been taught not to be so disrespectful to women. It was only because of a momentary surge of annoyance that he had done that, as well as the fact that he had bigger fish to fry. Masquerade gave the defeated bandits another glance over, and then he did the same towards the dead Heiwajima guards and driver. Even though the danger was over now, he was not out of this predicament yet. How was he supposed to get the carriage going now? He could have simply driven it himself if one of the horses was still alive, but sadly the poor creatures were not. What were they - that is, he and Mikuru - going to do? Walk the rest of the way? Illogical. There were several miles still left to go, and a trip on foot would take far longer. There had to be another way…

At that moment, a brief gleam of moonlight appeared in his peripherals, reflected off by an easily-recognizable object. Without a second thought, the blonde flipped backwards and out of the way of the katana blade that vertically sliced the spot where he had just stood. The Nukenin landed on his feet in a crouched manner, his eyes temporarily flitting to the tear on his coat’s shoulder that had been left by the katana; he then looked over through his blue visors at the profile of the newcomer. Ahead stood a dark-skinned boy, maybe about his age or older, with a head of messy, teal hair that hung low over one side of his face. The newcomer was dressed in a black, one-sleeved kosode with a white tabi and black trousers tucked inside shin-length boots. The boots aesthetically matched the single glove he wore, on his left hand. The kosode did not cover the right side of the boy upper torso, thus exposing the multitude of white bandages covering his torso and right arm; these bandages extended up to cover the lower half of his face as well, the indentation of his mouth and nose easily noticeable through the opaque wrapping. In his hands, the newcomer held a scarlet-hilted katana, the weapon’s scabbard slung over his shoulder and across his chest in a style that left it hanging loosely under his left arm. The katana’s edge was currently wedged into the grass at the spot where Masquerade had been standing a few moments ago. It was clear that, had Masquerade not moved, he would have been very seriously injured by this new attacker - whoever the else he was.

The boy with the teal hair slowly (and shall we say, dramatically) turned his head to look at Masquerade with a red-hued eye. “You’re pretty quick on your feet,” the boy remarked calmly, his deeper voice slightly muffled through the bandages.

Masquerade raised an unseen eyebrow behind his mask’s visor, looking curiously at the newcomer. “And you’re no mere bandit,” the Jinchuuriki observed airily. “You’re a ninja. A ninja -.” The blonde’s eyes drifted to the forehead protector strapped around the boy’s right shoulder, the one without the sleeve. “- from Kirigakure.”

The dark-skinned boy, evidently a ninja, straightened up to his full height, which turned out to be nearly half a foot greater than Masquerade’s. “Senshin Rikimaru,” the Kirigakure ninja introduced himself with a casual air, before brandishing his katana at Masquerade challengingly. “I look forward to gutting you.”

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Age : 31 Posts : 1836

Most people chose to begin a first encounter with a greeting, and usually followed it up with a friendly and casual remark. It did not matter what the subject of the remark was - it could be about the weather, about the other’s appearance, or something else mundane. The point was, the reason for doing so was to strike up a conversation. Strangely enough, this seemed to be the case in this situation as well. Despite the rather violent content of his words, the Kirigakure shinobi before Masquerade had delivered them in a calm and casual voice, as if he was actually talking about one of the aforementioned, mundane topics. Needless to say, Masquerade’s eyebrows rose at the ninja’s introduction. The Nukenin shrugged uncertainly, arms spread wide at the boy calling himself Senshin Rikimaru. “I suppose I should say the feeling is mutual, but you see -.” As he paused in his speech, Masquerade’s confused expression was replaced by a more malicious one as he pulled a kunai out of his pouch, holding it backhanded and getting into a battle stance. He then completed his sentence, the next words coming out in a low, soft voice: “- I’m more of the dismembering type.”

An audible “Hmph” sounded from behind Rikimaru’s bandage-covered mouth. The teal-haired boy then swung his sword in a wide arc before rushing at Masquerade, who immediately braced himself for the attack. Seeing that the sword would come swinging towards him in a horizontal arc, Masquerade leapt back as the attack neared and caused it to miss his neck. He immediately brought the kunai clenched in his hand up to intercept the follow-up attack, and as both metal blades collided, the larger of the two was fortunately halted in its tracks. Masquerade and Rikimaru eyed each other resolutely as their weapons clashed together, until the later smiled confidently behind his “mask”. With a grunt of exertion, the taller boy pushed the kunai and the hand holding it aside, thereby allowing his blade to continue its journey. Masquerade ducked as the sword sliced through the air, managing to cut a few strands of the blonde’s long hair in the process. The frown that had appeared on the Jinchuuriki’s face the moment he was overpowered intensified. As he dropped to the earth, Masquerade followed his ducking motion with a strike at his adversary’s knees with his kunai. However, Rikimaru leaped back away from Masquerade, thus managing to avoid the blonde’s counterattack.

The katana-wielding ninja skidded backwards slightly from the momentum of his jump when he landed on the ground, crouched on the ground like his opponent. Masquerade surveyed his opponent cautiously as the latter rose to his feet; the darker boy’s scarlet eyes shifted to the carriage where Mikuru was, before returning to Masquerade. As the Kirigakure shinboi’s gaze fell upon the Nukenin, the blonde could see the outline of a grin forming under the former’s bandage-covered mouth. Masquerade did not return the smile, though; he did not find anything amusing enough to warrant such a reaction. Not yet, anyway. Still, he was too focused on the task at hand to care why his opponent would be smiling in the middle of a battle. Also, the blonde youth was busy linking the recent occurrences together and coming to a conclusion as to what was going on. There was no doubt at all that this “Senshin Rikimaru” and the group of bandits were in league with each other. Their objective was Heiwajima Mikuru, no doubt. As to why they would want her… Masquerade had a few ideas, both unpleasant and not, but they were nothing more than conjectures at the moment. Masquerade narrowed his eyes at Rikimaru, raising his kunai till it was held horizontally in front of his face; he considered whether he should simply ask his opponent what he wanted with the heiress, but rationale told him that the Kirigakure shinobi would not give a satisfactory answer. How annoying.

Masquerade’s attention was diverted from his thoughts as the enemy suddenly made a move - but not a move that Masquerade had been anticipating. Without a word, the grinning Rikimaru turned around and made a dash for the trees. Masquerade blinked in bewilderment as he watched the boy go. Was he running away? Why? The fight had only just begun, and neither side had displayed enough of their power to indicate who would be the victor. So why was this “Senshin Rikimaru” fleeing? Cowardice? That would be strange. Masquerade would not have pegged him as a coward… Then again, he had only known the boy for a grand total of one minute - less, actually. As a frowning Masquerade observed the teal-haired boy had vanished into the shadows of the tree-line, he did the something he would normally regard as foolish: he gave chase to the boy. Leaping to his feet, Masquerade dashed after Rikimaru, leaving the open path behind him to enter a maze of tree trunks. The light from the full moon did not reach the forest floor due to the thick canopy of leaves overhead, meaning he was running through a much darker environment than before. But, as poor as visibility might be, the woods were quiet, which allowed the Nukenin to hear the sound of his prey’s footfalls further ahead; Rikimaru was fortunately not that far ahead. He blonde automatically directed his feet in the direction of the footsteps, his own footfalls clearly audible in the silence of the dark woods.

Very soon, Masquerade found himself entering a small clearing between the trees, though the canopy of leaves above meant that this area was just as dark as the woods around it. The boy came to a halt here, listening. His head moved slowly from left to right, senses of sight and hearing both on full alert. He could no longer hear Rikimaru’s footsteps, which could mean two things: either Masquerade had lost him, or the Kirigakure ninja had stopped running. If the latter was true, then it could most likely mean that Senshin Rikimaru was listening for Masquerade, or he was preparing to ambush the Nukenin. Face set in determination, Masquerade’s grip on his kunai tightened and he readied himself for a possible attack - and not a moment too soon. With a grit of his teeth, the Nukenin brought the spear upwards to block the (failed) surprise attack: an aerial assault in the form of Rikimaru leaping down from an overhanging branch, katana swiping downwards in a vertical chop. Fortunately, Masquerade’s reflexes proved fast enough once again. The short knife clashed with the longer sword, both generating a rattling sound upon impact. The Kirigakure ninja was still in an airborne position when he unexpectedly rammed his foot into the side of Masquerade’s head, his leg having swung around to catch the Nukenin unawares. The result was that Masquerade was knocked to the side and landed on the ground with a grunt. Though his head was throbbing viciously from the force of the kick, Masquerade pulled himself out of the momentary daze he was in, and brought his focus back to his adversary. The teal-haired boy now had both feet on the ground, katana held in one hand whilst the other was forming a series of handseals. Masquerade only allowed himself a nanosecond to be surprised at an occurrence that he had only heard of, and never seen prior to this moment. Gritting his teeth, the blonde sprung up to his feet, his kunai still in his hand. The moment he rose to his feet, however, was the moment when Rikimaru brought his free hand to his mouth and exclaimed, “Fuuton • Daitoppa!”

Masquerade did not know what to expect when he heard those words, but even if he had, he would not have been able to react in time. As it was, the sudden gust of wind that came roaring towards him hit him at full-force. Feet lifting off the soft earth, Masquerade was thrown back by the strength of the blast and slammed into a tree behind him. A grunt of pain escaped from the male’s throat as he hit the sturdy trunk, remaining pinned to it until the wind died down. When it did, he slid down weakly to the base of the trunk, wincing from the pain wracking his muscles. Despite the pain he was in, Masquerade forced himself back to reality, and just in time too: insectile eyes spotted the swordsman lunging at the disoriented Nukenin. In a display of instinct rather than consciousness, Masquerade rolled out of the way of the blade coming at his chest. Aside from a tear in his coat, Masquerade managed to evade the thrust in time; what was more, the force that Rikimaru had put in his jab resulted in the katana’s edge lodging itself into the thick tree trunk. As cheap luck would have it, the katana was temporarily stuck, and the wielder struggled to yank it out of the tree. His preoccupation with the katana gave Masquerade the chance he needed. Indeed, he had already commenced his counterattack the moment his evasive maneuver had concluded: a booted foot was firmly planted into the Kirigakure shinobi’s cheekbone, and while the kick was nowhere near as strong as the latter’s, it served its purpose. Rikimaru’s was knocked back away from Masquerade and is katana, landing on his side with a displacement of soil and earth.

A grunt of irritation issued from Rikimaru as he pushed himself up into a kneeling position, turning around to face Masquerade with a grin. The Nukenin in question was breathing deeply while he cautiously watched his opponent. The kunai he had been using was no longer in his hand, having slipped from his grip when Rikimaru’s jutsu had hit him. Masked eyes shifted to glance at the katana lodged into the tree trunk beside him. Masquerade considered using the katana against Rikimaru, but wondered if his lack of skill with the weapon would prove to be more of a disadvantage than an advantage. Further contemplation on this matter was put on hold when Rikimaru began addressing Masquerade, causing the green eyes to slide back to the taller male. Said male clapped his hands appreciatively at the shorter blonde. “You’re not half-bad, Nukenin; could use some more training at CQC, though.” Masquerade raised an eyebrow at the comment, bemused that Rikimaru thought it a sensible time to be complimenting his opponent (insults seemed more fitting for this situation). The Nukenin tensed as his opponent then straightened up from his crouched position. However, the Kirigakure ninja did not adopt a battle stance like the Nukenin; instead, he spread his arms slightly and nodding at the Nukenin. “Well, this has been fun and all, but I think I’ve played with you long enough. Sooo… Bye!”

Rikimaru waved a hand at Masquerade, before a cloud of smoke enveloped him. Masquerade blinked, dumbfounded, as he beheld the smoke clearing to show that his adversary was no longer there. After a moment of simply gaping at the empty space, the Nukenin straightened up from his battle stance and continued to stare at the spot where his opponent had just been standing; only this time, it was not in wide-eyed surprise, but with eyes narrowed in thought. Realization had just hit him as he looked scrutinized the spot where his opponent had been standing; or rather, where a Bunshin of his opponent had been standing - a tangible one to boot, seeing as how Masquerade had been able to hit it. So then: Rikimaru had not just vanished in that cloud of smoke; he had vanished from existence, probably due to the kick Masquerade’s had delivered a few seconds prior. That, or the caster of the jutsu had decided to cancel Bushin. Masquerade did not know which was the case, as he was not very knowledgeable on how clones worked: some dispersed after just one hit, while others needed only one. However, this revelation gave rise to another question to the contemplative Nukenin: why send a Bunshin in the first place? Why had the Kirigakure shinobi assigned a Bunshin the task of fighting Masquerade, instead of doing it himself?

Masquerade’s entire body went stiff, his eyes momentarily expanding in shock and understanding. Without another thought, the boy turned on his heels and sprinted back to the carriage. He ran as fast as his legs would allow him, teeth clenched in anticipation, a grim expression on his visage. In a matter of seconds he had emerged from the trees into the moonlit path, and he came to a halt as he caught sight of the carriage. What he saw made him clench his teeth tighter in anger, hands curling into shaking fists. A moment later, his posture sagged as he sighed in defeat. The Nukenin pressed a hand against his masked face in obvious distress. Oh, great. A frustrated look now present on his face, Masquerade moved closer to the carriage, his focus on the door facing him. This door was open slightly, the light from inside the vehicle seeping out through the small gap. Placing a hand on the door, Masquerade swung it open furiously and peered inside. As he expected, the coach was empty.

God damn it. Masquerade’s grimace intensified as he turned away from the infuriating sight of an empty coach, slamming the door shut as he did so (and uncaringly damaging its hinges in the process). Yet another sigh escaped from the male’s lips, this one softer but just as annoyed as the earlier one. She’s never going to stop bickering about this, Masquerade thought irritably, taking a few steps away from the coach and gazing angrily at the tree-line ahead of him. At that very moment, he heard the sound of footsteps on grass behind him, and knew full-well who it was. Speaking of whom…, the blonde thought in aggravation. Replacing the irate expression on his face with a composed one, Masquerade turned around to face the approaching figure of Misami. The black-haired girl’s eyes slid towards the coach, and then to Masquerade in a questioning manner. The blonde Nukenin gestured at the empty vehicle with one hand, while announcing to her slowly, “We’ve… got a slight problem.”

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Masquerade:

Senshin Rikimaru:

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Age : 31 Posts : 1836

“You let them kidnap her?” Misami gawked at Masquerade, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. The kunoichi was uninjured, without a single wound, bruise, or any such blemish on her appearance. She did not look like someone who had just taken on (and apparently, beaten) over twenty bandits, all on her own. Indeed, were it not for the few spatters of blood on her clothes, Masquerade would have suspected she had just fled rather than fought a battle. Although, saying something like that would probably result in Misami pointing her katana threateningly at Masquerade like before. That being said, with that enraged flame in her brown eyes, the female Nukenin looked likely to do that anyway. “One thing! I told you to do one thing, and you couldn’t even do that properly!” A gloved hand then pressed against her face in frustration as she continued eye Masquerade distastefully from between her fingers. “All you had to do was guard her, but instead you allowed the enemy to abduct her! Are you always this useless?”

The kunoichi glared at the male shinobi prior to turning her back to him, as if the sight of him disgusted her. Masquerade had remained silent and motionless throughout his partner’s small diatribe, not because he was afraid, but because he knew it would be best for her to say her full before he spoke. When she did finish, he would address Misami in a tranquil tone that contrasted with her own aggressive one. “You know, you could stand here all night making tirades about how pathetic I am, or we could try and fix - I’ll admit, my mistake - by trying to rescue Heiwajima Mikuru.” Masquerade glanced around at the surrounding trees, a frown visible on his mouth. “Although, to be honest, I have no idea where they could have taken her...”

Of course, one course of action would have been to question the archer that Masquerade hadn’t killed, but unfortunately said archer was no longer in their presence. An empty hole took up the spot where the archer’s head had been protruding out from the ground. From what Masquerade had surmised, whoever had come to take Mikuru had probably taken the archer as well. Either this was to ensure that no one could use him to find Mikuru and her abductors’ location, or it was empathy for a man stuck in a humiliating position. Whatever the case, Masquerade and Mikuru would not be getting the location of their charge through interrogation. Fortunately, Masquerade’s associate chose that moment to assure the male (with a contemptuous snort, mind you) that she ought to be able to track down Mikuru and her captors. As her associate’s voice had trailed off, Misami had snorted in contempt and thrown a deprecating glare at Masquerade. As Misami would direct her determined eyes to the trees with furrowed brows, her words would elicit a rare type of grin from Masquerade: one of sincere pleasure. The blonde Nukenin would clasp his hands together happily as he would face the darker-haired shinobi. “Wonderful. Shall we get going, then, and save the heiress?”

Another snort issued from Misami. “No. We aren’t going to do anything.” She pointed a finger at herself. “I’m going to go rescue Mikuru-sama. You stay here and keep being useless.” Masquerade’s eyebrows rose unseeingly behind his visor, but he did not say anything in reply. With those words delivered, the kunoichi turned on her heels and dashed into the woods, in the direction where Rikimaru’s Bunshin had originally led Masquerade into. Masquerade stood his ground as his partner disappeared into the darkness of the forest. After a moment, he blinked.

“Well. That was rude,” he remarked to nobody, turning around and walking back to the carriage. He leaned against the vehicle and crossed his arms across his chest, his disinterested sights set on the gently-swaying grass at his feet. Once in position, he resolved himself to waiting.

Ten seconds... Thirty seconds… Sixty seconds… When he decided that enough time had passed, and that Misami would have gotten a considerable lead by now, Masquerade unfolded his arms and brought his hands up to begin the execution of three handseals. Upon forming the final Hitsuji seal, Masquerade held the seal and closed his eyes whilst muttering the name of the jutsu “ Ninpo • Gokan Enhansumento: Kyuukaku.” The boy then took a deep breath, and a flood of different scents came wafting into his nostrils. Staying his position for a few moments with his eyes closed, Masquerade allowed himself to adjust to the less-familiar experience, before opening his eyes. With this jutsu, he would mimic a canine, and use his now-enhanced sense of smell to locate the direction in which Mikuru had been taken. Jutsu activated and ready for usage, Masquerade turned around face the best source he had for Mikuru’s scent: the carriage she had been riding in. Taking a step into the coach, Masquerade exhaled deeply, his face set in concentration. He immediately grimaced, not liking the aroma that his nose detected - it disgusted him. Not to mention, the very action he was performing was disgusting in his eyes as well. The things we shinobi have to do… Closing his eyes and forcing his revulsion to the back of his mind, the boy concentrated on the dominant scent in the carriage, the scent of the woman who had been riding in it.

Once he had deemed it long enough, he leaped out of the coach and back onto the grass; his head turned slowly from left to right as his nose sniffed the air furiously like a bloodhound’s. It was several seconds before he caught the familiar scent once more, and setting his sights in that direction, Masquerade ran forward at full speed. As it turned out, it was the very same direction that Misami had gone a couple of minutes ago, as well as the same direction Rikimaru’s Bunshin had retreated towards during his and Masquerade’s earlier spar. How coincidental, that the correct path would be the obvious one. The blonde could not help but allow a small smile of amusement to slip onto his face. It was almost like being in a story - an unimaginative and uncreative one, at that. Pointless musings aside, Masquerade was now running underneath the thick canopy of leaves and tree branches, his booted feet uncaringly trampling the various vegetations covering the forest floor. He had only one thought in his mind right now, to follow his nose; he did not pay his surroundings any mind, and only focused enough on his journey to remember where he was going. Really, he was so fixated on following the scent flowing into his nose, that he could have run past Misami without noticing - though, he did not. All he cared about right now was finding the heiress as quickly as he could, and getting her to her destination. Hopefully, there would be no further complications in this mission. It was annoying how a simple escort task had turned into a troublesome rescue mission. If the pay had not been so good, Masquerade would have just left Mikuru to fend for herself - or leave it to Misami to save her. Well, maybe not; he wasn’t that cold-hearted.

What do we have here? Masquerade slid to a stop, insectile eyes lowering to examine the object of his interest. His journey had been halted by a steep yet gradual drop in the ground; the earth smoothly descended at angle to a level about five meters below, before rising back up to Masquerade’s level around ten meters ahead. Masquerade titled his head thoughtfully as he looked to his left and right, confirming that he was standing on the bank of a riverbed - a dry riverbed, at that. The long, deep channel was running perpendicularly across Masquerade’s path. He would not have to cross it, however, for a quick inhale through his nose told him that he had to follow this dried river channel if he wished to continue pursuing Mikuru. His attention was diverted to his right, the direction in which the scent was growing stronger, and he saw that the riverbed was angling down at a small incline, though the banks beside it remained at their height. Masquerade frowned for a moment as he eyed the descending path. He wasn’t all too keen about going down a space as confined as that, particularly when it was descending lower and lower the further he saw. That narrow space would be a perfect place for an ambush, so he opted to try a safer route. Instead of hopping down to the riverbed and walking down the channel, Masquerade began to walk along the bank of the channel. As he could no longer follow the scent from his position, the Nukenin deactivated his jutsu sand instead began to simply follow the path of the waterless waterway. If there was anything of worth to find down there, he ought to be able to see it from up here; he had a clear view of the gravel-covered, earthy ground from his elevated position, after all.

For the next minute or so, Masquerade followed the slowly winding and deepening waterway, until his march came to a sudden halt. He had just emerged from the cover of the trees, stepping into silvery moonlight, when he found himself standing at the edge of a sudden drop in the land. Well, it was only sudden because he had not been expecting it. Truth be told, one simple glance at the area ahead told Masquerade that he was overlooking a large depression in the land that was probably a lake at some point. Indeed, if he had just been following a river, than this could certainly be a lake. Or maybe it was a pond. He was no geographical expert, so he could not say for sure which it was (he was not even sure what the difference was between the two). Masquerade was not exactly sure how wide or deep the waterless body of water was, seeing as he was not that confident in his ability to estimate distances (also, he did not really care that much). Anyway, Masquerade had other things to focus on than the dimensions of the… depression. Namely: the battle that was taking place at the bottom of the depression. Several meters below and ahead of Masquerade, Misami was currently locked in combat with a group of black-clad men; these men obviously belonged to the same group that had ambushed the heiress and her guards earlier. In fact, Masquerade was willing to swear that the lead figure in black was the same golden-haired man who had been leading the aforementioned ambush squad. Despite the fact that both parties had been in combat less than an hour ago, neither side was displaying any signs of fatigue or exhaustion. That being said, neither side was dominating the battle as far as Masquerade could tell, so he supposed some of them probably were tired.

Crouching down on knee, Masquerade’s eyes flitted from the intense battle below to the area surrounding it. The only “entrance” he could see was the river channel from before, which he guessed Misami had taken to reach the bottom of depression. As stated before, Masquerade had no clear idea as to how deep the depression before him was, but he could see that simply jumping down from his height would be very detrimental, even to the hardened physique of a ninja. Of course, he could just fly down using his wings, but that was only if he wanted to go down to where the battle was occurring. However, he did not feel any desire to join the fray, for he had noticed another interesting feature. Opposite his current position, on the other side of the empty lake, there was what Masquerade assumed to be another dried up river channel. What drew Masquerade’s attention to this was the fact that the black-garbed men were doing their noticeable best to keep Misami away from that passage. Anyone would have been able to come to the obvious conclusion that Heiwajima Mikuru could be found down that passage. If so, then that was where he needed to go.

His destination decided upon, Masquerade rose to his feet and retreated a few steps, before beginning to run along the perimeter of the depression. Thanks to his elevated position, Masquerade had gone unnoticed by the combatants below, not that they had the time to look up at him, seeing as how they were in the middle of a battle. This inattentiveness suited Masquerade perfectly, for he was not in the mood to take part in a battle, particularly one where the enemy had the advantage of numbers. Better to let his partner handle all the fighting. After all, if Misami managed to distract the bandits long enough, then Masquerade would not face as much trouble in saving the Heiwajima heiress. Yes, let her act as an unaware decoy whilst he rescued the bride. That was what teamwork was all about, was it not? Smirking slightly as he thought this, Masquerade hurried over the grassy earth, making sure to stay far enough from the “bank” of the “lake” to avoid anyone spotting him should they look up. No one did, and it took the boy about a minute to reach the other side of the circular depression. Soon enough, he was standing at the edge of the passage down which he hoped to find Mikuru. The Nukenin glanced back to inspect Misami’s battle, and was satisfied to see that it was still ongoing and undecided in its outcome. Though, both sides seemed to have gotten wearier in the last minute. Aware that he probably did not have much time left until a victor was decided, Masquerade set his sights ahead and began to march forward with brisk steps. As before, he followed the curve of the channel from an elevated position, for the same reason as before. Just as before, his trek came to a stop only a short time of walking. The channel did not come to an end, but the boy did spot something that should not belong there. This something was a small tent, set in an alcove in the channel’s walls.

Booted feet have coming to a halt, their owner crouched down once more as he surveyed the tent. He was pretty sure that Mikuru was in there, but decided to confirm it the only safe way he could think of. Not by jumping down and heading into the tent, but by using a jutsu. Handseals were executed as the boy whispered, “Ninpo • Sarmurbijon.” The jutsu activated and his eyes now seeing the world in a different array of colors that signified varying heat signatures, Masquerade examined the tent below. A light was on inside the tent, but he could still distinguish the warmer heat silhouettes of two humanoid figures, one of whom he was able to convince himself belonged to Mikuru. Content that he had found his charge, Masquerade deactivated his jutsu and brought his focus on the other heat signature he had seen. Logic was telling him that it was most likely that of a guard’s, but he was spared the effort of deducting who it could be, for at that very moment, the entrance of the tent was opened as the owner of the other heat signature stepped outside. Masquerade’s eyes widened briefly and he cursed mentally, ducking out of sight. However, he was apparently not fast enough, for the person’s attention was fixated on the spot Masquerade had just been positioned at. Whether it was because the Masquerade’s motion had created a sound that had been heard, or whether he had been seen prior to hiding himself, the point was that his presence had been detected.

“I know you’re up there,” Rikimaru called up to the hidden Masquerade. “Show yourself.”

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Jutsu Used:

Chakra Remaining:

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

As Rikimaru called up to the secluded Masquerade, the latter could not help but clench his fist frustratingly at his own foolishness. To think that he would overlook the necessity of remaining hidden should his opponent exit the tent and spot him… Such a lack of diligence practically deserved the result that had just occurred. If Rikimaru had not spotted Masquerade, he probably would have left the vicinity of the tent; Masquerade’s guess was that the Kirigakure shinobi was on his way to the battlefield back in the empty lake. Had Masquerade’s presence gone undetected, the Nukenin was certain that he could have snuck into the tent while Rikimaru was gone and leave with the heiress in custody. Due to his laxity, he would not be having that luxury. No, now he would have to confront the troublesome enemy ninja if he wished to get to Mikuru. Snarling at himself for turning an easy situation into a much harder one, Masquerade rose to his feet from his squat and approached the edge of the elevated land he stood upon. His masked visage would then lower to lock his gaze with that of his adversary, whose eyes narrowed as he recognized the Nukenin. Masquerade slipped a smirk onto his face, one that perfectly disguised the frustration he felt. “Yo,” he greeted cheerfully, waving a hand lazily at the teal-haired ninja. “You have something - pardon, I meant someone - I’m looking for.” The Nukenin held a hand out in a gesture of demanding. “Care to hand her over?”

His opponent did not seem to be in the cooperative mood, however; such a shame. “She’s not some kind of prize to be handed over just like that,” the Kirigakure shinobi snapped, his eyes flashing angrily. His current attitude differed noticeably from the carefree one he had displayed during their last encounter. It could just be the fact that he was just as annoyed to see Masquerade here as Masquerade was to see him. Perhaps he had formed an impression of how strong Masquerade was, and thus thought that precious time would be wasted fighting him? Well, if Rikimaru was thinking that, then luckily for him, the feeling was shared by his opponent. Masquerade was not looking forward to fighting Rikimaru, and he was certain that he would indeed end up doing so. He had already gauged his opponent’s strength through their last encounter, and what he had learned had not pleased him. The Nukenin quickly went over in his mind all the deductions he had made regarding his adversary. Obviously, Rikimaru was a close-range combatant who specialized in the use of swords, a skill that immediately made him a tough opponent for the less combat-oriented Masquerade. The fact that the swordsman could also use the laudable skill of performing handseals with just one hand made him all the more deadly as a swordsman. What made Masquerade most apprehensive of the boy was the fact that he had demonstrated the use of the famed Kage Bunshin. No mere Genin could execute a technique that advanced; such a technique was more commonly utilized by those closer to the skill level of Chuunin or above. However, Masquerade was confident that Rikimaru was not a Chuunin, for if he was, then even his Bunshin could have dispatched Masquerade easily during their previous fight. No, Rikimaru was no Chuunin, yet he was not an average Genin either. He was undoubtedly a highly-skilled Genin. What did they call them in Shinobi Villages? Experienced Genin? A rather stupid rank name, but one that had a very clear meaning behind it: such Genin were, as the name implied, experienced. Clearly, beating this Kirigakure ninja was not going to be an easy task.

However, worrying about his opponent’s strength was not the best way to defeat them, or survive an encounter with them. For now, Masquerade had to focus on the situation at hand. In particular, he felt the need to focus on Rikimaru’s earlier comment; his smirk had widened ever-so-slightly after Rikimaru had spoken. “Oh, you’re absolutely right. She’s not a prize; the real prize is what I’ll get for getting her safely to her groom’s home.” The remark was merely a humorous one, as indicated by the tone in which it was delivered. Although, the boy’s words could also be considered mocking, and it seemed that Rikimaru was treating them as if they were just that. Masquerade noted how the Rikimaru’s grip on his katana had tightened, his red eyes seeming to flash in anger, when Masquerade spoke those words. The Nukenin looked at his adversary with an amused expression. What, did Rikimaru think Masquerade was being sick or something? Was he the stereotypically noble Village Ninja, who put their comrades before their mission? Whatever the case, Masquerade seemed to be getting on the boy’s bad side, which was alright considering their roles in this mission; they were both from conflicting groups, after all. Although, in a strange twist, the rogue ninja was the protector here, whereas the “legal” ninja was the kidnapper; and this time, the legal ninja had teamed up with a group of suspiciously-clothed men to outnumber his foes. Usually the “bad guys” had the advantage of numbers, didn’t they? But such was not the case in this mission. How strange - and unexpected.

“So then, let’s hear it, shall we?” Masquerade continued, crossing his arms over his chest in expectance. “What reason does a shinobi from Kirigakure have for coming all the way here, to Hi no Kuni, to kidnap a clan heiress? Is there some third party involved in this whole Heiwajima-Kurosawa issue that hired you to abduct the bride?” The Nukenin tilted his head to the side, pausing to see if Rikimaru wished to reply. The teal-haired boy, however, continued to glare at the ground in silence. Feeling he may as well keep going, Masquerade continued with his queries. “So what does this third party hope to gain from this abduction? Ransom? Or are they planning on having one of their own marry Heiwajima Mikuru? Wait....” A sudden grin of amusement spread across his face as he aimed an index finger at the still-silent shinobi. “Don’t tell me you want to marry her? You didn’t kidnap her so that you could have her all to yourself, did you?”

Despite the situation, Masquerade chuckled whole-heartedly (and not too nicely), unaware that Rikimaru’s fist had clenched even more tightly around his katana’s hilt. “JUST SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY!” Rikimaru suddenly exploded, startling Masquerade with his outburst and causing him to abruptly cease his laughter. The teal-haired boy’s hand dug into his weapons pouch, and he flung a barrage of shuriken at the Nukenin; the Kirigakure ninja preceded this action by slapping his hands together. A sudden gale of wind struck the shuriken and propelled them at an even faster speed towards Masquerade. The Nukenin, frowning at this unfortunate turn of events, leaped back easily out the shuriken’s path; he had plenty of time to react, given the large distance they had to cover to reach him. He then peered over the edge to see Rikimaru dashing towards the wall atop which Masquerade stood, katana drawn and ready for action. The blonde grimaced at the sight and, without a second thought, turned around and ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

He was quite a ways from his starting position when he glanced back over his shoulder, spotting the form of Rikimaru emerging from the passage below and charging after Masquerade, bloodlust emanating from his very being. The Kirigakure ninja had taken quite some time to scale the wall manually, allowing Masquerade to build up a considerable lead - but it would not last long, given how quickly the determined Village Ninja was closing the gap between the two. The Nukenin made a sound of annoyance and returned his attention to where he was running, which was further away from the tent where Mikuru ought to be. He was not following the passageway that connected the back to the empty lake either; he had veered noticeably left from that path, heading further away from the large depression. The sole thought in his mind at the moment was getting his adversary as far away from the captured heiress as possible. Should a fight ensue (and one certainly would) it would be prudent to be at a location where the chances of Mikuru getting caught in the crossfire were null. As much of a pain as it was, Masquerade’s duty was to protect the woman, and having a battle in her proximity was not the best way to ensure that. Which was why he was busy running like an apparent coward.

The Nukenin’s sprint had brought him a good distance from the tent by now, and very soon he had plunged into the surrounding forest. Whereas originally he had been traversing over a relatively open expanse of grass, he was now required to navigate around trees, boulders, and other obstacles that sought to block his path. The blonde did not glance back to see if his opponent was still pursuing him; the repeated patter of boots falling upon the earth proved that he was. Even if he had looked back, the dense collection of trees would have hindered his opponent from sight. The boy just kept his focus in the direction he was running. He had next to no idea where he was going, but he continued to run regardless of his ignorance. He considered finding a chance to give his pursuing opponent the slip and double-back to the tent to retrieve Mikuru. If he made use of a Bunshin and some clever deception, he might be able to pull that off and fool his opponent long enough to get away. Yes, that was probably the best -.

Oh, boy... Emerging from the cover of the trees into the open, Masquerade slid to a halt just in time to avoid running over a rock outcropping, which ended abruptly before a lengthy drop. The boy allowed himself a quick glance down at the rapids below; far, far below. Falling off from here would definitely not be a good idea, though since Masquerade could fly, he was not all that worried about plummeting to his death. That being said, he would be lying if he said he was willing to jump off this “cliff” (he supposed he should call it). Since going forward was out of the question, Masquerade turned around and began to run to his left, away from the cliff. However, he had barely gotten a few meters away from the edge when he suddenly felt a force tugging at the hems of his coat. He did not have to look back to realize what was the cause of this action. The Nukenin knew instantly that his pursuer had caught up to him and had now grabbed hold of his coat. However, there was nothing the blonde could to react to his enemy’s next act. Masquerade gave a grunt of surprise as he was pulled back suddenly and slammed back-down onto the ground.

Masquerade winced as he hit the ground, and then looked up. The next moment, his eyes widened behind his mask before he abruptly rolled to the side, out of the way of the blade tip that came plunging down to land where his face had been moments ago. The boy’s roll carried him a few feet away from his original position before he leaped back to his feet via a handspring. However, Masquerade had barely regained his balance when his eyes snapped forward and saw the blade coming at his face once more. Instinct took over at the right moment and caused the boy to arch his spine backwards to evade the blow. However, instinct was not fast enough to avoid the foot that unexpectedly rammed into his stomach. The force of the kick was enough to knock the Nukenin back; he rolled messily across the ground until he managed to slam his hands down and cease his ridiculous motion. Teeth clenched, the boy rose to his feet, glaring at his opponent from behind his opaque visors. Rikimaru stood about four meters from him, shoulders rising up and down visibly in synchrony with his ragged breathing. Masquerade could see the way the Kirigakure ninja’s blood-red eyes glowered fiercely at him; the katana the Genin wielded was clenched tightly in a fist shaking with anger. In fact, the Kirigakure Genin’s entire body seemed to be trembling with visible fury. The infuriated glow in Masquerade’s eyes dimmed down to be replaced by a puzzled one. Was it just him, or did Rikimaru seem a little too angry? Surely Masquerade’s ~~incessant~~ taunting had not been that irksome? Rikimaru could not be so livid just because Masquerade had mocked him like he had, right? It seemed like a bit of an overreaction, in Masquerade’s opinion.

Of course, there were other things to worry about than his opponent’s strange mood swings. Due to having been pushed back by Rikimaru’s assault, Masquerade was currently standing a few steps away from the aforementioned edge. Indeed, if he had kept rolling, he would certainly have gone over the edge; although, as mentioned before, the fact that he could fly meant that he would not be in any danger. Nonetheless, the boy was not too keen of going over the edge at the moment; he had other things to deal with, such as an inexplicably ticked-off Genin, who looked willing to drive his very sharp weapon through Masquerade’s very vulnerable skull. Masquerade tensed in his place, wondering what to do next. Should he run, or stand and fight? Whatever he planned to do, he needed to decide quickly, for his opponent was not going to just stand there forever. Sure, he had been fortunate enough so far in that the Genin seemed too preoccupied with shooting Masquerade death glares to make a move (Masquerade surmised that Rikimaru was going over different scenarios as to how he was going to kill the Nukenin), but his luck would only last for so long.

Just as Masquerade came up with a possible plan of action, Rikimaru made his move. Masquerade had expected a jutsu of some kind, maybe even a meager kunai or shuriken throw. After all, if the opponent is standing before a fatal drop, then the best course of action would be to force him or her off the edge and down that drop. Yet, Rikimaru was doing neither; instead, he was rushing right at Masquerade, both hands clutched around the hilt of his katana, eyes wide in rage, an enraged bellow issuing from his concealed mouth. Masquerade spared the boy a nanosecond’s worth of confusion before he acted. The Nukenin’s hand reached into his ninja pouch as the Genin approached. The steel blade of the katana came swinging at the Nukenin’s neck once its owner was within range, but he was aiming at the air now. The target had already dodged the attack the moment he had seen the blade being drawn back for the attack. By the time Rikimaru had swung his katana forwards, Masquerade had already dived under the attack and rolled out of the way. The Nukenin came into a squatting position about a meter behind his adversary, who was just realizing his error. However, when the swordsman turned around with an annoyed grunt, Masquerade offered him the sight of his hand formed into a single-handed hand seal, one that any ninja worth his forehead protector ought to recognize. It was the seal for detonating an explosive tag; an explosive tag that Masquerade had pulled out of his pouch earlier, and had attached to his target as he had dodged Rikimaru’s attack. What was his target? Rikimaru’s left leg.

A triumphant grin stretched across the Nukenin’s face as the tag glowed in preparation for detonation. At the same moment, Rikimaru’s eyes widened in dread as he spotted the glowing tag. “Shi-!”

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Masquerade:

Senshin Rikimaru:

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

Light. Heat. Pain. These three words flashed through Masquerade’s mind as the tag exploded and the blast engulfed not only Rikimaru, but Masquerade as well. The Jinchuuriki was only a meter away from the tag when it exploded, after all, so full evasion was pretty unlikely at such a close distance. Nonetheless, Masquerade was not severely wounded by the attack, having managed to back up enough to avoid the worst; the outgoing force from the blast had also helped to propel him further away. The boy was, however, disoriented by the blast for several seconds, kneeling on the ground one knee with his head bowed, temporarily unaware of his surroundings. When his senses did come back into focus, the Nukenin blinked and slowly surveyed his surroundings. He noticed immediately that Rikimaru was nowhere in sight. The spot where he had stood was not even there. The cliff edge where the Genin had been positioned had been blown off by the explosion, as there was now an empty space where the tip of the outcropping had been. The Nukenin blinked once more and slowly rose to his feet, checking to see if any damage had been inflicted to his person. The mild burn marks on his arms (which he had brought up to protect his face) were nothing too serious or crippling; he could ignore the discomfort for the moment. Aside from this, he had a few small bruises and scuff marks, but he was otherwise unharmed. The same good fortune did not seem to have befallen his adversary, though.

Masquerade cautiously took a step towards the edge of the broken cliff, as if worried it might further break should he apply any additional weight to it. The Nukenin peered over the edge of the cliff and down at the bottom. As before, he saw the swiftly-flowing waterway far below. There was, however, no sign of Senshin Rikimaru, alive or dead. However, the Jinchuuriki was willing to assume that the Genin had been blasted off the cliff. The force of the explosion had knocked Masquerade back, and it would certainly have done the same to Rikimaru. If not, then the Kirigakure ninja would then have fallen when the cliff edge beneath him collapsed; and as Masquerade had rightfully noted earlier, not even a ninja could survive a fall like this. Though Masquerade did not know it, the drop was about equal to half the height of the Konohagakure’s famous Hokage Mountain. Masquerade stroked a finger thoughtfully against his chin. Hmm, and here I’d only intended to cripple him. Killing him had certainly not been part of the plan. The boy remained still in thought for a second, before raising his hand and pressing the index and middle fingers of said hand against his forehead in a salute of some sort. “Rest in peace, Senshin Rikimaru,” he said softly, his voice carrying tones of neither joy nor regret. It was all part of the job, after all. While he had no proof that Rikimaru would have killed him, Masquerade was willing to bet on that, given the bloodlust he had seen in the Kirigakure Genin’s eyes. As such, even if he did not enjoy taking people’s lives, Masquerade was willing to kill for his survival. He would dislike himself for doing so, but he knew he had to.

Turning away from the cliff edge, the boy began making his way back to the tent, and back to where he would hopefully find Mikuru safe and well. The thought had occurred to Masquerade that perhaps Mikuru had not been in that tent to begin with. This whole ordeal had been quite a tiresome one, however, so if this did turn out to be true, then he would be understandably infuriated. So much so, that he might just consider dropping the mission and abandoning the heiress to whatever cruel misfortune awaited her. In retrospect, it might have been wise to confirm the location of his charge with Rikimaru, but Masquerade doubted the kidnapper would have told him where the captive was. The Nukenin shook his head clear of such thoughts as he approached the gap in the earth where the tent was situated. As pessimistic as he was, even he was not in the mood to dwell on such dark possibilities right now. He just wanted to get this annoying mission over and done with.

Panting slightly as he came to halt from his run, Masquerade looked down at the tent from his position on the depression’s elevated rim. A light could still be seen inside through the tent’s fabric. As the boy prepared to make his way down via a descent using his wings, he saw movement at the tent’s entrance. Wondering irritably what was going to happen now, the boy concealed himself as he watched carefully for who was coming out of the tent. If it was another bandit, then by God… No, wait, it was not a bandit. Stepping out of the tent, with a completely unharmed Mikuru at her heels, was Kakeru Misami. The kunoichi was eyeing the area carefully, as if making sure they were alone. She had wrapped the bow around her head around her waist, and the blood seeping into it hinted at a woundi n that area. No doubt she had received injury whilst fighting those bandits from earlier. Aside from a number of scrapes and scratches on her skin and clothing, she seemed to otherwise be in fit condition. Well, aside from what appeared to a slight limp in her step (an injury to her leg, Masquerade supposed) and her faintly sluggish movements which implied at fatigue. This kunoichi was certainly tougher than she looked. Highly praiseworthy.

Misami led Mikuru away from the tent and down the passage they stood in, in the direction which would lead them back to the carriage. They passed by the secluded Jinchuuriki without noticing his presence. A smirk adorning his masked features, the male Nukenin rose to his full height once they had passed him by, and turned swiftly on his heels before commencing his run. He soon overtook the two women, and as he was passing by the venue of Misami and the bandits’ battle, he spotted the fallen bodies of the men-in-black from his position. He couldn’t say for sure, but most of them seemed to be alive, though probably unconscious. The golden-haired leader was among the certain dead, if the pool of blood he was lying in meant anything. Having paused briefly to examine the sight, Masquerade would then resume his rapid motion. The Nukenin began making his way back to the meadow where Mikuru’s carriage was parked, and the place where he was supposed to have been during this whole ordeal. No need for anyone to know that he had taken part in this little rescue; he had done his part, and did not care if he did not get the glory or credit for it. All he cared about was getting his pay for escorting Mikuru safely to the Kurosawa headquarters. If his partner got a little extra credit for being the one to have rescued the captured Mikuru all by herself, then so be it. If she was the one to bring Mikuru back to the carriage from the enemy base to a waiting Masquerade, then that was fine with him. Besides, Masquerade probably owed her that much, seeing as he had pretty much used her as an expendable distraction… Nah, he definitely didn’t owe her anything for that. It was all part of the job, after all.

The boy moved as fast as his body and physical exhaustion would allow, determined to get back to his starting point before his partner and his charge. He was confident he could pull this off, seeing as how Misami would be unable to go as fast he was due to her own wounds, and also because Mikuru would be unable to keep up with her if the kunoichi moved at such speeds. It was thus that, when Masquerade emerged through the trees and into the moonlit meadow several minutes later, he found it devoid of either female’s presence. Though he was bent over as he panted and gasped for breath, the male Nukenin managed to smirk contently. Once he had regained his strength, he straightened up and strolled over to the carriage, seating himself down on the steps that led into the vehicle. Making use of his Iryou Ninjutsu, he then began to heal the minor wounds and bruises that he had received. Once he was done, he crossed his arms over his chest and began to wait patiently for his teammate’s arrival. She could take her sweet time if she wanted; Masquerade could rest a little this way. It was roughly two minutes later that Masquerade heard the sound of approaching footfalls. As he turned his head in the direction on the incoming noise, he was greeted by the sight of Misami and Mikuru arriving upon a horse, a palomino mare to be exact. Masquerade cocked an eyebrow at the sight of the horse, wondering where it had come from. Deciding to leave that query for later, the boy rose to his feet as the two females approached. Slipping a convincing smile of delight onto his face, he greeted the women in a voice that, oddly enough, still sounded taunting. “Ah, Kakeru Misami! You’ve returned; and with our charge as well. Splendid. I’ll take it everything went smoothly, then?”

He waited a moment to see if Misami or Mikuru would reply, mouth curled in a grin that now seemed more smug than affable. His shinobi associate, who had been the one holding the reigns of the horse whilst the bride had been seated behind her, did not reply immediately to the inquisitive male. Instead, she slipped off the horse and stroked its hair affectionately for a moment, prior to shaking her head. “No, there weren’t any problems. I managed to find Mikuru-sama easily enough. Luckily, the bandits who took her did not harm her.” Masquerade looked up at the pink-haired woman in question, who had not looked at or spoken to either ninja since arriving here. Indeed, she seemed a bit more reserved and less cheery than before. Could she perhaps have been mentally traumatized by the kidnapping? Hmm, yes. That seemed most likely. A kidnapping was nothing to laugh at, after all. Still, given enough time (and perhaps some counseling), the heiress ought to recover. Maybe. Although, one would think the successor to a family that was rivals with another would be mentally prepared for such misfortune. Masquerade was halted from dwelling further on this matter when his attention was drawn to the kunoichi. Letting go of the mare, Misami had walked past Masquerade and stopped just outside the range of his peripheral vision, looking over at the carriage that Mikuru had initially been riding in. She spoke to Masquerade over her shoulder, causing the taller male to turn his head slightly in her direction to bring her form into view. “We’ll attach this horse I’ve brought to the carriage, and have it take us the rest of the way to the Kurosawa clan’s headquarters. I’m hoping you can drive a carriage like this one?”

The female shinobi looked over at Masquerade as she asked this question. Turning to face the black-haired girl, Masquerade pointed a finger at himself in apparent disbelief. “Me? You want me to drive the carriage?” A snide expression shaped itself onto the Jinchuuriki’s face, his head tilting a fraction to the side. He almost felt like asking Misami if she was sure someone like, who was only good at being “useless”, could handle a task like that. Certainly, his body language would have implied that he was about to respond as such, but in the end, he did not. “Very well. I’ll drive us to the Kurosawa residence.” Offering the kunoichi a small nod of his head, Masquerade turned back to Mikuru and addressed her next. “If you wouldn’t mind dismounting, then I can begin attaching the horse to the carriage - unless, you’re currently too frail to even walk the small distance to your seat?”

While his choice of words could have been considered impudent, Mikuru did not reproach the Nukenin for it. She instead shook her head at him slowly, finally bringing her clouded gaze over to him. “No, it’s alright. I can walk.” With those softly-spoken words, Mikuru slipped off the horse unassisted and walked over to the waiting carriage, her head bowed and her eyes aimed at the ground.

Masquerade followed her with his eyes, wondering once again whether her melancholy was due to the trauma of being kidnapped. Hmph, it seems someone hasn’t faced such hardships in her life before. How typical of a person from an affluent family. Contemptuous thoughts running through his head, Masquerade grabbed the horse by its reigns and began leading it to the carriage. As he approached Misami, he posed the question to her: “You found this horse at the enemy’s base, I’m assuming?” It was the only reason he could come up with for this creature’s presence here. He could not recall seeing any such mount at Rikimaru’s cap, but he had only been in that area for a few minutes; he could easily have missed something like that. The blonde did not stop for an answer as he walked past his partner, with the horse in tow. He did catch the girl’s nod, however, as well as hear her reply in the positive. After answering the boy’s query, the kunoichi would fall in step behind Masquerade and the golden mare as they made their way to the carriage.

It took a few minutes, most of which went by in trying to get the unexpectedly stubborn mare to submit to Masquerade’s attempts to attach her to the coach, but the envoy was eventually off. Masquerade obviously sat in the driver’s seat, the horse’s reigns and a whip (which he had kindly borrowed from the corpse of the original driver), leading the vehicle through the forest and hopefully to their destination. Since he had committed the path they were supposed to take to memory, navigation was not that much of a problem. He prayed that they could make to their goal there without any further interruptions. If they did run into another problem, the responsibility would most likely fall on him to ensure their safe and successful escape. Not only because he was the one driving the carriage, but because he was the only one fit enough to fight. Misami was currently seated inside the carriage with Mikuru, as opposed to walking outside alongside the vehicle, or even riding atop it; this was something she had been forced to do when the fatigue brought about by her consecutive battles, as well as her wounds, had left her in need of rest. The kunoichi had collapsed to the ground from exhaustion not long before they had departed, which had prompted Masquerade to ~~reluctantly~~ offer to heal her. After having his offer rejected curtly by the injured Misami, an irritated Masquerade had then suggested she ride in the carriage with the bride for the remainder of the trip, so as to “avoid any inconveniences, like fainting or dying”. While the last part had been said as a whispered side comment, Misami had thankfully gotten the message. She had agreed to leave the task to Masquerade, and even accepted the first-aid treatment that the male Nukenin offhandedly proposed afterwards (he’d only meant it as an empty gesture; he didn’t think she’d accept, seeing as she had been quick to snub him earlier).

Thus, they were in this situation. His partner may not be losing consciousness any time soon, but she certainly would not be fighting with those injuries. Hopefully, the worst was behind him, and this mission would hopefully be done and over with soon.

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Jutsu Used:

Chakra Remaining:

Age : 31 Posts : 1836

Thank God: they’d made it. They’d made it to the Kurosawa complex without issue, albeit an hour or so later than they were supposed to; but they’d made it, nonetheless. And what joy, there was even a welcoming committee. This welcoming committee was awaiting their arrival behind the gates to the complex - a group of lavishly-dressed men and women carrying what appeared to be ceremonial candles, or something of the sort. These men and women greeted Mikuru respectfully and cheerfully as she stepped out of the vehicle, and they were soon leading her away from the vehicle and towards the building, where no doubt her hosts awaited. Meanwhile, the completely ignored Masquerade and Misami were left standing with the carriage, wondering what they were supposed to do now (and where they were supposed to go), when a familiar voice attracted their attention from behind. The two Nukenin turned simultaneously to meet the cold green eyes of Heiwajima Kiritsugu. While the appearance of this man was unexpected, Masquerade did not ask why he was here. If this was where Mikuru had to be brought, then surely her father would be here waiting for her; and if that behemoth of a man was here, then his right-hand would certainly be here as well. Plus, Masquerade had a feeling that Kiritsugu would have been here even if his master had not been. The stoic man seemed the kind of person who would be placed in charge of overseeing an event like this - the responsible and reliable kind of person.

“Good work, you two,” Kiritsugu praised dispassionately, fixing his glasses’ position on his nose as he nodded at them. “You’ll be rewarded as promised for your efforts. But before that, Heiwajima-sama wants to have a few words with you. If you’ll kindly follow me...” The black-haired man turned around and began walking off in the direction of the complex. Masquerade and Misami glanced at each other momentarily, both sporting bewildered expressions, before going after the departing male. As they walked, Masquerade thought. He was not going to lie: he was a little worried. What could Heiwajima Hokomaru have to say to them? They had completed their mission. The Heiwajima should have just paid the two Nukenin and sent them on their way. True, most of the time the employer wished to speak with his hired personal at the conclusion of the mission, but the Heiwajima head did not seem like someone who would waste time calling upon his employees just to congratulate them. Why did he request an audience with them? Had he heard that Mikuru had been kidnapped, something which he had (indirectly, but still very clearly) insisted not happen, and was thus planning on punishing the two for that? Masquerade did not know whether to be afraid or not, but he would certainly prefer not to be forced into a fight with that giant… Soon enough, the three were passing through a door and into the room where the clan leader was waiting. “Heiwajima-sama, I have brought the two Nukenin,” Kiritsugu announced as he stepped into the room where the giant sat; a room as spacious as the clan leader’s office back in the Heiwajima complex. The silver-haired man looked up from the papers in his hand at the three’s arrival. Setting the sheets down on the table in front of him, the muscled man leaned back in his seat and surveyed the two attentive Nukenin in silence. Masquerade and Misami remained silent, as did Kiritsugu, waiting for the clan leader to speak.

After a ten second wait, Hokomaru finally spoke. “Well done, Nukenin, well done. You brought my daughter here safe and sound, and I’m grateful for that. You’ve definitely earned your pay.” He paused, looking pointedly at the ninja, as if waiting for them to say something in reply. Masquerade nodded slowly, still trying to figure out the purpose of this meeting, whereas Misami answered with a verbal thanks and some more babble that basically amounted to “we were glad to be of service” - only not as directly. “I’m glad to hear that it was such an honor for you, shinobi.” Hokomaru smiled briefly, though the grin did not seem all that pleasant. “By the way, were there any problems on the way here? Did you face any difficulties?”

Ah, so that was it. He wanted to know if something had happened. Well, considering what the man’s reaction would be should he learn the truth, the sensible thing would be to avoid mentioning the abduction incident. Masquerade opened his mouth to answer, but Misami had already begun speaking. “We did, actually. Our envoy was ambushed by a group of masked bandits, who were apparently being led by a ninja. They had managed to kidnap Mikuru-sama, but as you can see, we managed to rescue her and bring her here unharmed.” Misami concluded her statement with an apologetic bow at the muscular man. “My partner and I apologize for this unfortunate occurrence, Heiwajima-sama; especially after you had placed your trust in us. Again, we apologize deeply for our mistake.”

A tense silence followed the kunoichi’s words, during which every pair of eyes in the room was focused on her. Kiritsugu seemed mildly surprised, his sharp eyebrows having risen upwards while his index finger was pressing against the frame of his glasses. Masquerade was staring at Misami with obscured eyes so wide that they might pop out of their sockets at any moment, mentally cursing the girl for her actions. His eyes then shifted to Hokomaru, whose hands were clenched tightly around his knees, his face having hardened in fury. A vein could be seen throbbing visibly on his temple, and his entire body was vibrating in obvious rage. The man looked like he was going to explode at any minute not just in figuratively, but literally as well. Masquerade resisted the urge to visibly express his own displeasure and annoyance, lest it incite the beast any further. He shot an infuriated glare at Misami from the corner of his hidden eyes, and found the sight of her perfectly composed and unfazed demeanor to irk him even further. Sure, Masquerade was not displaying any signs of anger or emotion either, but he was not the one who had just enraged a man the size of a grizzly bear (and probably with the same brute strength). What a fool.

Masquerade braced himself for the inevitable, and it came sure enough. The clan leader slammed a fist down on the table before him with an animalistic roar, smashing it completely to pieces; he then took a threatening step towards the two smaller figures, his anger making him appear twice his size as he loomed over them. The two Nukenin did not move as the massive form towered over them, a murderous glint in his beady eyes as he glared down at them. Despite the fact that the giant was more or less breathing down on them, neither ninja moved from their spot - whether out of fear or bravery, the answer was not clear. Masquerade himself did not know what was keeping him rooted to the spot, even though he considered running to be a wise course of action right now; yet, he wouldn’t say it was fear that was telling him to do that. More like sensible reasoning. “What… What did you just say?” Hokomaru growled sinisterly at the Nukenin, his moustache and the vein on his forehead twitching in synchrony. Masquerade prayed that this time, Misami would have the sense not to answer, though it probably would not make a difference at this point.

“She said Mikuru-sama had been kidnapped,” a voice calmly informed from behind Hokomaru. The bulky man turned his enraged face towards Kiritsugu, who was standing with his characteristically composed aura. The black-haired man pushed his glasses further up his nose, his eyes closed as he continued, “She said Mikuru-sama had been kidnapped - by a ninja.” Green eyes appeared behind the spectacles as the stony-faced man opened his eyes and looked pointedly at his master. Masquerade blinked as he too looked up at Hokomaru, who was now looking at Kiritsugu with a startled expression. As if this was not surprising enough, the clan leader suddenly backed away from the Nukenin, returning to his seat and flopping down onto it, his hand stroking his whiskers as he glanced around the room with wide, uncertain eyes.

Finally, the beady eyes locked onto the ninja, and he inquired in an unexpectedly soft voice: “This ninja… Was he village ninja? If so, from which one?” Honestly, everyone Masquerade had encountered in this mission was doing nothing but perplexing him with their actions. This clan leader in particular had perhaps been the most perplexing of them all. His bipolarity was something to watch out for, it seemed. Well, as long as he was not planning on smashing Masquerade’s head into the wall with a fist or piece of furniture, then Masquerade had no complaints. The boy answered Hokomaru’s question calmly, mentioning Rikimaru’s affiliation and name and the rank Masquerade had guessed him to be. Seeing as how Misami had not met Senshin Rikimaru (as far as Masquerade was aware), the blonde was obviously the only one who could answer the query; a fact that Misami seemed to have known as well, as she had looked expectantly at Masquerade upon hearing the question. When the two Heiwajima heard Masquerade’s reply, they exchanged odd glances with each other, which further puzzled the Jinchuuriki. Before any further queries could be made, Kiritsugu’s head snapped towards the pair of ninja.

“The two of you: wait outside for a minute,” he ordered curtly, moving towards the ninja and directing them out of the room. Masquerade caught a view of Hokomaru’s annoyed face before the doors closed shut and a lock could be heard turning on the other side. The two Nukenin were now locked outside the room. Masquerade frowned at the occurrence. If it was not for the fact that he still needed to receive his pay, then he would have just left at this point; but he was not going to have all that effort, and all that irritation he had quelled, go to waste.

Speaking of almost going to waste… Masquerade rounded on Misami, who met his gaze as he faced her. “What on Earth is wrong with you? You had to go and tell him the one thing he did not want to hear?” Masquerade pressed a hand against his head in disbelief, the annoyance he had been suppressing t Misami’s actions finally making itself known. “It would have been better not to mention that little detail to him!”

Misami listened to Masquerade’s words, and rolled her eyes visibly at him. “He deserved to know, seeing as it was his daughter we were talking about. Besides, he had entrusted her safety to us, so it was his right to be told about anything that could have happened to Mikuru-sama. Anyway, you should be grateful I didn’t mention that it was your fault she was kidnapped in the first place.”

The kunoichi leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest. She did not look towards Masquerade as he gaped at her, unable to believe she had just said something like that. Well, the first part, anyway. The part about him being grateful did not matter much, seeing as how the Nukenin’s employer was already livid at them both. What mattered was the first part of Misami’s answer, which Masquerade found to be completely ludicrous. Indeed, the boy made his thoughts known by pressing his hand against his masked face in obvious aggravation, before sliding it off. “Even so, the sensible thing to do would have been not to tell him.”

Just like her partner, Misami’s also placed a hand against his forehead, even accompanying this action with a sigh of exasperation. “You fool. Don’t you think it would be better for him to hear that his daughter was kidnapped from us, instead of later on from someone else? If Heiwajima-sama would be outraged that we let his daughter get kidnapped, how do you think he would react if he learned that we had purposely kept that information from him?” She looked pointedly at her partner, arms still folded in front of her chest, her voice firm yet soft. “Besides, how else were we going to explain all the injuries we have? Not to mention the damage to the carriage, as well as the deaths of the guards and the driver. Well? What elaborate tale should we have spun to cover up all that?” She paused, waiting expectantly for Masquerade to answer, but the male Nukenin did not grace her with a reply. Instead, he scratched a finger against his temple, blinking as he realized that the girl was right. Now that he thought about it, he had not considered how he was going to respond to any questions regarding the dead Heiwajima who had been accompanying them. To be honest, he had not really been thinking about them. His attention had been too preoccupied in trying to end this tiresome mission to fret over that point - regardless of the fact that it was a very important one.

After a minute or so of thinking, the blonde Nukenin frowned as he too leaned against the doorframe on the opposite side of the door from where Misami was, his hands shoved inside his pockets. “Well, you certainly have a good point, Kakeru Misami,” he admitted, his voice holding a humble tone rather than his usually sardonic one. The kunoichi rolled her eyes at him, and they lapsed into silence. A temporary silence, for a few moments later, the door between them was opened by Kiritsugu. The stoic man gestured for the two Nukenin to enter, and the ninja did just that. Inside, Hokomaru was still seated on his seat, though he did not seem as enraged or confused as he had been a few minutes ago. He looked calm and composed now, much like the bespectacled man returning to his side now. Once Kiritsugu had taken his place at his master’s elbow, Hokomaru looked up at the boy and girl across the room from him and addressed them.

“Despite allowing my daughter to be kidnapped under your watch, the two of you still managed to save her and bring her here. As such, I cannot really be angry at you two. I said before that I was grateful for your help, and I still am. Again, thank you, Kakeru Misami, Masquerade.” The raven-haired man beside Hokomaru walked over to the shinobi at this point, holding out a small bag of coins for each of them. The Nukenin readily accepted them with a show of thanks, Misami with a verbal one and Masquerade with a nod of his head. The latter grinned as he felt the weight of the money bag in his hand. Finally, the mission was over, and he had received his pay. He supposed it had been worth the effort, even if everything had not gone as he had anticipated. But then, his expectations were not always true, and considering how pessimistic he could be, that was probably a good thing. The Jinchuuriki’s attention was suddenly drawn back to Hokomaru as the man began to speak once more. “Now that that’s out of the way, I was hoping I could ask the two of you for another favor. As my daughter will be wed in a few days time, I’d appreciate it if the two of you would remain here to continue acting as her bodyguards. I would like you to watch over her, and see that no harm befalls her, until her wedding is over. You can think of it as another mission request, if you want.”

For once, both Masquerade and Misami were staring at Heiwajima Hokomaru in surprise. Both astonished Nukenin spared each other a glance to convey their mutual bewilderment, before returning their attention to the burly clan head. Masquerade did not know what to think of the situation. He was being asked to stay in this compound for a few more days and act as a bodyguard? What for? Mikuru was here already; what harm could come to her? There was no reason why she would need a bodyguard - specifically a ninja bodyguard. There were plenty of people here to protect her, both Heiwajima and Kurosawa. The lack of logic made the idea unappealing to Masquerade. Not to mention, he was reluctant to spending anymore time in the company of these Heiwajima, be it the father, the right-hand man, or the heiress; even his partner was someone he would prefer to get away from as soon as possible. Yes, there was no reason for him to continue to suffer this irritation anymore; absolutely no reason.

“Oh yes, and I should mention: the reward will be double the amount I have just paid you,” Heiwajima Hokomaru added, holding up two fingers on one hand as he spoke.

Well… maybe there was a reason.

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~ Mission Complete ~

• Continued In •
Here Comes The Bride [Part II]