Is it my fault...

An infinite tangent of snow flakes speckled the dark sky as they where thrown about by the frozen air's careless harassment. Pushed one way then the other. Helpless, hopeless, their fate was in the hands of the wind's unpredictable will. They had no control over where they were going or where they would end up. Weren't they afraid? How could they be tolerant of such little control? How could they just submit to the will of the wind? Hisoka dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand as he clenched it into a fist. He despised helplessness, weakness. He despised running away from an enemy. He wanted to believe that he could still beat them, that he still had the upper hand. The lifeless bodies of more than half of the shinobi in the platoon were scattered about on the battlefield. The enemy's numbers had taken Hisoka and his group by surprise. Beaten, broken, and sorely outnumbered, they were forced to retreat. They were no longer in control. Hisoka was no longer in control.

... that they're dead?

The snow pecked at Hisoka's porcelain skin like tiny icy needles as the large wings of his paper bird beat with desperate vigor. A cough wet with blood sputtered from the Chuunin behind him. His wounds were severe but he had survived this long. The chuunin boy was being supported by the other half the leadership over the platoon - Inokana. He was a jounin Yamanaka from Kirigakure assigned to lead a twenty-man squad on an espionage mission in the land of iron with Hisoka one year ago. The Yamanaka breathed heavy, obviously weakened by the inevitable exhaustion of depleted chakra. Two others that were in the worst condition, one jounin and another chuunin, were atop the bird as well. One could barely sit and the other lay motionless against the paper bird's back. The rest of the survivors were forced to travel back to the base on foot as the large bird could only hold so much weight. Hisoka did not look back at the injured shinobi or Inokana. He couldn't look back.

Is it because of me?

The speed of the bird caused the frozen air to press into Hisoka's squinted eyes. Even in the dark gloom of the blizzard-plagued sky, the his golden-yellow eyes seemed to reflect a deep light. This light did not come from any external source but from an effervescent fieriness that defined the young Ryoku. These eyes had never possessed such anger, such defeat, such disappointment. His feathered light blue hair tussled wildly as it was pushed about by the wind. It had once possessed a color that matched the hue of the snow that whirled around him but as years passed it began to fade into a more blue tone - a genetic phenotype that is specific to the Shikigami. Hisoka stood tall, utilizing his fury to disregard the pain from his injuries and the exhaustion from his drained chakra supply.

Am I still too weak...

The red piping that traveled the length of his navy blue shirt flapped against his exposed toned pectoral muscles. The sleeves of the shirt were once there but had been torn off, exposing the arch of Hisoka's shoulders. His black pants clung tightly to his legs, tracing the shapes of his muscles. Parts of his legs could be seen because of the could of slices along his pants. The chilled wind blew strait through his bones as if he was made of nothing more than air. He had never felt so cold. Heavy, dark red droplets splattered against the crisp white paper that made up the giant bird. However, this blood did not belong to the injured Chuunin boy - it belonged to Hisoka. The thick red liquid had begun to seep through his pale fingers that were pressed hard against the wound on his torso. How could he have been so careless as to let this happen? How could he have been so weak? How could his team have been so weak to let themselves be defeated by such as enemy? It was their fault for what happened to them, right?

... even after all this time?

Through the thick blanket of snow, Hisoka could see the base up ahead. He was too angry to be relieved. The bird's wings battled the harsh blasts of wind as it attempted to slow and lower into the camp. With a deep reverberation, the bird landed on the frozen ground. Without turning to assist Inokana with the injured shinobi, Hisoka promptly leaped from the bird. Pain ignited his nerves like a wet circuit as he hit the ground. "Dammit," he hissed between clenched teeth. Quickly recovering, he swiftly walked toward one of the large tents. The ninja that had traveled on foot arrived shortly after they landed. The two medical ninja that were stationed at the base rushed out. One helped Inokana, while the other timidly approached the infuriated Ryoku. He obviously knew how temperamental the boy could be and that he was treading risky waters even talking to him. "Taichou-sama, please, let me tend to your wounds," The timid medic's voice politely asked. Hisoka did not stop walking with undeniable purpose nor did he even look at the boy. "Get out of my face, asshole." Violently sweeping the door of the tent out of the way, Hisoka stormed in leaving the medic stunned outside. The medic shook his head and sighed before helping Inokana with the rest of the injured people.

I don't know what to do...

He had to get word back to Kirigakure. What the hell did Inoshi think he was doing, sending twenty men to face an army of over a hundred? Was he trying to get them killed? How could he, in all his 'brilliance', not have known that the threat was this massive? Hisoka ground his clenched teeth together. How did Inoshi expect him look after this sorry sack of shit group when he didn't tell him anything? Hisoka clawed desperately at any excuse that he could muster, pointing his finger at everyone he that he could. The tent was large enough to stand in and could hold up to ten people. The few lonely objects in the room stuck out like a sore thumb. A wooden table stood alone in the middle of the room while a couple of chairs were stationed in the corners. On the table were a couple of small scrolls, a brush, and a container of ink. Hisoka reached to pull one of the chairs over to the table but cringed. The wound in his side was deeper than he expected. Stopping his violent abrupt movements for a moment, he lifted his hand that had been firmly placed on the wound. The gash was impressive and certainly nothing to take as lightly as the Ryoku had. The warm dark crimson liquid had made its way down to his pant's waistline. "Shit." Dismissing it, Hisoka continued to drag the chair to the table. Every movement was abrupt and fueled by intent and anger. However, every abrupt movement caused a surge of pain to conduct through his fatigued body. Carefully sitting himself down, Hisoka unrolled one of the scrolls. He wiped his bloodied hand on his shirt before grabbing the brush and dipping it in the ink. As he wrote he did not notice the small drop of blood that had left his wrist and landed on the paper.

What would you have done?

Mission Report: Espionage in the Land of Iron

This is Hisoka Ryoku reporting from the Land of Iron requesting back up immediately. These sons of bitches are plotting alright. They've built an entire fucking army of not only samurai but skilled shinobi too. They didn't wear any kind of head band or anything, nothing that could trace them back to their origin. But they definitely outnumber this platoon ten-fold, especially now. We were taken by surprise and attacked during the espionage mission. Ten shinobi were killed and three were severely injured. The survivors were barely able to get out alive. We are down to less than six shinobi including me and Inokana. I don't know what the hell is going on but if we're going to war, I'm gunna need more men.

The candle light from inside the large tent danced and flickered along its tan walls, playing hide-and-seek with the shadows of the night. Hisoka sat at the head of the table that was positioned in the middle of the tent. His spine curved into a slouched position. His elbow rested upon the table allowing his hand to rest over his mouth. His other arm relaxed over his torso, as if it was still subconsciously protecting his healing wound. His slender eyes were glazed over in thought as they hovered over the flame of the candle in the center of the table. The bright light danced across the bright golden flecks buried in his irises as he became more and more lost in his thoughts. Why didn't the reinforcements show up yet? What was he going to do? Should they retreat back to Kirigakure? Should they run away? What choice did they have? If the reinforcements didn't show up soon, they would be forced to retreat. Hisoka hated the idea of retreating. He hated the idea of returning to Kirigakure empty handed, no trophy of triumph, no battle reward, only failure. He had not only let six men die but now he was going to have to retreat without finishing the mission. He would have to face Inoshi with the failure of coming home with nothing but bad news. Inoshi... The stressful thoughts and worries seemed to fade just for a moment as old memories began to spark into light. The sound of the wind pressing against the walls of the tent, the background noise of those conversing outside the tent, even Inokana's voice faded into temporary silence.

"Hisoka." The sharp tone of Inokana's impatient voice shattered Hisoka's brief moment of blissful silence. Only his dangerous cat-like eyes moved as they darted up to meet Inokana's. The Yamanaka was standing no more than a few feet away. Inokana was always one to follow orders, to think logistically, to never show emotion or act unprofessional - a typical Anbu. But even Inokana could not hide his worry now. Fear was written all over his face. "Did you hear me, Hisoka?" The only orders Inokana had trouble following were Hisoka's. He had this idea in his head that he had more authority over the mission than Hisoka did. The two had trouble getting along from the start but, after being stuck with each other for years, they were forced to find a way to work with each other. Hisoka paused, his intense glare piercing Inokana's poor visage of bravery. "No. I didn't. Your voice pisses me off and you rarely say any thing that I actually wanna hear." Hisoka spat his biting words at his co-captain before looking away with a scowl on his face. Inokana rolled his eyes and walked toward the table. He tossed Inoshi's letter onto the wooden surface. "Hisoka-san. The enemy could be plotting an attack right now and we don't have the men to hold them off. Mizukage-sama stated that if the reinforcements do not arrive in two days, our orders are to retreat back to the village." Inokana tapped the letter with his finger as if to further prove his point. The Yamanaka's arrogant voice was endlessly aggravating to the Ryoku. "We've waited for two whole days, tomorrow will be the third. I don't think we should risk-"

"I get it. You want to turn tail and run the fuck back home like a bunch of little pussies. Is that what the shinobi of the bloody mist have become? A bunch of pathetic bastards that can't hold out for one more fucking day for reinforcements to come and save their asses? Besides, the enemy doesn't even know where we are." Inokana raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. He leaned his weight against the table, turning his body so that his right side was facing Hisoka.
"I doubt that they haven't figured out where we are..."
"We are far enough outside of where we found them to be noticeable. We're hidden."
"We were hidden until you had the brilliant idea to fly out of the battlefield on a giant bird. They could have easily tracked the bird to the camp." Inokana mumbled a snarky comment under his breath. As if Hisoka didn't have enough stress and guilt in his subconscious to deal with already. Now he had to deal with this punk. Hisoka's head snapped to look at the boy once again, only this time with much more violent intensity.
"...What the fuck did you just say to me?"
"I'm simply trying to make a point, Hisoka. We can't assume-"
Hisoka slammed his hand down hard on the wooden table causing a the loud slap to interrupt the Yamanaka's pompous speech. "I saved our asses you ungrateful son of a bitch! There was no other way that we could have gotten out of there alive!"
"Do you honestly believe that? You're little bird trick may have cost us more lives than we saved."
"Oho man. You are sooo fucking lucky that I haven't beaten the shit out of you yet for mouthing off to me like you could have done better." Shaking his head, Hisoka smiled cynically, almost laughing to himself as he leaned back in his chair.
"I didn't say that, Hisoka. Not that it isn't true..."
Hisoka stood up abruptly knocking the chair that he was sitting in back before lunging at Inokana. "How dare you, you fucking pompous ass-"

The echoing sound of an explosion igniting within the camp caused them both to promptly stop and look at the door to the tent. Both shinobi dashed out of the tent attempting to pinpoint the origin of the explosion. The darkness of the moonless night shrouded the world in shadow. Although unfair, it was a perfect time for the enemy to launch a surprise attack. Inokana was right. They had found the base. Now it was too late to retreat unless they could manage another miraculous escape. Shit. What was it with the Yamanaka gene that made them right all of the time? "Taicho!" One of the remaining shinobi rounded the corner of the tent skidding to stop in front of Hisoka and Inokana. "The enemy! They've found us, sir!" The young shinobi was out of breath and quaking with fear. "No shit. Where did the explosion come from, kid?" Hisoka hurriedly asked the boy. "I'm not sure but we still have people in severe condition and may not have enough time to get everyone out. What do we do, s-" The familiar sound of a kunai cutting through the air caused Hisoka to act on impulse. Stepping swiftly to the side of the boy, Hisoka pulled the sword off of his back and held it just behind the vital area of the boy's back. The moment that he did so, a kunai bounced off the thick metal of the blade. Startled the shinobi whirled around, kunai in hand. Inokana instantaneously jolted into a battle-ready position. All of them scanned the area for any sign of the enemy.

For a moment, all that could be heard was the wind. "Move!" Inokana's voice called out in warning. In an instant, a wall of kunai with explosives attached to them flew at the three shinobi. They all leaped in different directions out of the line of fire. Immediately after the explosion, one of the enemy shinobi leaped from the smoke and launched toward Hisoka. While in the air, the shinobi threw three kunai, all of which Hisoka effortlessly blocked with his sword. Soon after the kunai made contact with Hisoka's blade, the enemy's blade clashed with the metal of Hisoka's blade. The deep reverberation of metal slamming against metal caused sparks to light up the night. Having failed the attempt to strike Hisoka down, the enemy jumped back before launching forward again. First a strike to the left, then the right, up, down, left. Hisoka bent and flexed his body so fluidly and effortlessly to dodge the enemy's swift attacks as swordsmanship was second nature to him. He knew exactly when the enemy would be at its weakest point during a strike. Hisoka's battle-hungry grin ripped across his face. These people had caused him to retreat once before and he wasn't about to let that happen again. Hisoka ceased the opening that the enemy allowed, swiftly sweeping the enemy's blade to the side with his own while side stepping. The moment that Hisoka was positioned directly beside him, a hidden retractable blade slid into position from it's hiding place on his wrist. Hisoka viciously buried the blade deep into the enemies ribs, piercing the heart. A wet cough sputtered from the enemy as Hisoka twisted the blade. Hisoka's face lit up with the pleasure of victory.

Poof. A sudden puff of white smoke revealed a thick, short piece of a tree truck in the place of the enemy. After recovering from the shock of surprise Hisoka scowled, an angered hiss escaping his lips. He barely had enough time to react to the swift movement that he heard behind him. Whirling around he brought his blade up as quickly as he could to counter the enemy's side swing. He wasn't quite fast enough. He was able to prevent most impact and damage but the enemy's blade had made contact with the same place that Hisoka had been injured before. Hisoka cringed as the pain sent fiery impulses raging through his nerves. The shock of reopening his wound caused his movements to be weakened temporarily. The enemy took advantage of this by using a disarming movement. Hisoka could have countered the move but he allowed his blade to dislodge from his grip, flipping into the air and landing several meters behind the enemy. He had a plan. Before the enemy could come in for another strike, Hioska brought up his arms before firing his Air Vents at the opponent. The velocity that was fired from the gauntlet weapons was not the full potential. Hisoka only wanted to push him away enough to make hand seals but not enough so that he would fly back further than the distance of Hisoka's blade. The powerful compact force of the air sent the opponent flying back as planned. The opponent caught himself on his feet, skidding along the dry snowy ground. Hisoka quickly wove a few hand seals.

All it would take was one little cut, one moment of contact. Recovering from the blast, the shinobi also started to weave hand seals in order to launch another counter attack. However, before he could finish, Hisoka's blade had dislodged itself from its position in the ground behind the shinobi and began traveling toward its owner at impressive speeds. Due to the position of the blade relative to Hisoka and his opponent, in order to return to Hisoka, it would be forced to travel through the skull of the unsuspecting shinobi. Because of the speed of the blade, the opponent barely had enough time to dodge. Hisoka had already began walking toward the opponent, his basic katana in his left hand and his deadly, arrogant grin spread violently across his flawless face. The shinobi tilted their head to the side, avoiding the majority of the damage from the blade, but allowing for a small cut to be inflicted on their right cheek. Perfect. The fast-acting raiton chakra within the blade activated, injecting itself into the nervous system of the opponent. The shinobi's eyes grew large as the excruciating effects of the blade tore their nervous system apart. Screaming, he dropped to his knees before the complete paralysis promptly took effect. The Death Strike hit Hisoka's palm a moment before he arrived close enough to the shinobi to deliver the final blow. Crossing his arms so that each blade was on the opposite side. Hisoka paused. "Say goodbye, asshole." He swung both blades simultaneously, creating a perfect crescent trajectory. The center of the crescent, where the two blades would pass each other, lined up with the enemy shinobi's neck. His sharp blades passed through the soft flesh, strained muscle, hollow jugular, and solid spinal cord of the man's neck, cleanly detaching his head from the rest of his body.

Hisoka panted as the man's blood met his own pale skin in a splattered pattern. The head of the shinobi rolled into the snowy ground staining it's clean white surface with the a dark pool of blood. Shortly after, the body followed, tumbling lifelessly from its kneeling position. Another explosion drew Hisoka's attention to its origin. He took off toward the others, following the sounds of battle to try to find his way in the dark. Inokana and several other shinobi were in a group, trying to keep several enemy shinobi from getting any closer to the tents that were housing the severely injured. a dozen more enemy shinobi were emerging from the wood in front of the camp. "These bitches don't know when to stop." Pulsing chakra into the paper hidden in the pouches strapped to his legs, Hisoka sent them flying toward the crowd of shinobi. The paper whirled around the group of enemy shinobi, confusing them and making it more difficult to track attacks. In with the thousands of pieces of paper were five of Hisoka's explosive seals. As Hisoka moved closer to the situation he formed a few hand seals, allowing the paper to possess an extremely sticky property. He then caused the paper to swarm onto fifteen of the closest shinobi, each swarm had one either one of the five explosive tags that Hisoka had mixed in, or one of the ten that he had created using another jutsu. "Get back!" Hisoka shouted to those that were in close enough range to the shinobi to be affected by the blast. Once the paper was secure on the targets, Hisoka detonated the explosives. Hisoka then ran in next to Inokana, preparing for the next group of enemies. Bodies of both enemies and allies scattered the ground. "You have to get everyone who is still alive out of here now! I'll hold them off for as long as I can." His voice sounded defeated, as if he was ready to accept that he probably won't make it out alive. Hisoka's golden eyes darted to look at his co-captain. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't be serious. Hisoka used an almost joking tone with the Yamanaka. "Pssh! C'mon, man. Stop trying to be a hero. If we go, we all go."

"You and I both know the chances of us all getting out of here alive. If I stay here and act as a decoy, it will give you time to get everyone else out of here and back to Kirigakure." He was completely serious. His dark blue eyes stayed locked forward. There was a hesitation of silence. Hisoka didn't know what to say. He wasn't about to just retreat and let Inokana stay and be the hero. But Hisoka knew he was right. If they wanted to survive they had to get out of there now. Inokana whipped his head to look at Hisoka, his eyes full of impatient fury. "Go! Now!" Inokana snapped at Hisoka who scowled. "I'm not gunna fucking leave!-"
"Goddammit Hisoka, why don't you try thinking of someone other than yourself! We can't win Hisoka! No matter how powerful you think you are, there is just too many of them and too little of us! You need to get the rest of the shinobi back to safety now! That's an order!"

For the first time, Hisoka was at a complete loss of words. He didn't know why but he couldn't bring himself to fight back anymore. Inokana was right. Hisoka hated it, but he was right. Inokana wasn't doing this for the fame, for the honor, he wasn't doing it because he thought he could survive. He was doing it because he wanted to sacrifice his own life to make sure that the others got to safety, that Hisoka got to safety. He was willing to sacrifice his own life for someone who he didn't even like simply because they were on the same team. He was a better man than Hisoka would ever be and he had to live with that. Inokana's patients with Hisoka's lack of response drove him to whirl around and start spitting orders at the other shinobi standing next to them. "You. Get the injured shinobi and the medical team out of the tent. Hisoka will lead you and the rest of the survivors back to Kirigakure immediately. That's an order"
"But, Taicho, what about y-"
"Go! Quickly!" The shinobi nodded and dashed off to the medical tent. Hisoka clenched his fingers into a tight fists a ground his teeth into each other. He was so angry he couldn't speak. Even if he could, he had nothing to say to the Yamanaka boy. He hated that he was just going to throw his life away like that, that he was willing to sacrifice himself to a bunch of people that were not even important to him. Why? He hesitated before turning his back to his co-captain. "Fine. If you want to throw your life away, be my guest." He then took off toward the back of the camp where the survivors were gathered. There were only two able bodied men and none of the injured shinobi. "Where are the injured ones?"
"The enemy got to them before we could, sir. They blew up the tent. Both the injured shinobi and the medical team was caught in the explosion." Hisoka paused a moment before taking off toward Kirigakure. "Let's go." He and the two surviving shinobi ran along the frozen ground. Another explosion sounded from behind them at the base. Hisoka's body came to a complete stop without his permission. He looked back and hesitated. Perhaps from an outside position the three of them could launch a surprise attack. Maybe they could distract the enemy long enough to get Inokana and get out of there. Hisoka knew that his own chakra reserves were reaching their limit and could tell that the other shinobi seemed exhausted as well. Besides, there's no telling that Inokana was still alive. He could have already been taken down and they’re just wasting time standing there. The other shinobi had stopped next to Hisoka, looking at each other with uncertainty and confusion. "Sir, why are we stopped?"
"We should keep moving, Taicho-sama." There was a brief moment of silence, of hesitation as Hisoka debated going back. "Sir!" Hisoka turned his head to look at the boy who shouted before turning to face what the boy was looking at. Sure enough, a large group of shinobi was heading their way. Hisoka closed one eye so that he could focus his vision through his Range Finder. Kirigakure headbands. He knew they'd show up. Hisoka smirked. "Reinforcements." The two exhausted shinobi let out a sigh of relief.

When the group finally caught up to the Hisoka stepped forward to address them. "About damn time. Took you guys look enough."
"Taicho-sama, we are the battalion requested to assist you by the Sandiame Miz-"
"Yeah yeah I know who you are. Our base has been over run. We are all that are left of the survivors. My co-captain, Inokana, is still back at base."
"I understand, Sir."
"Great. Let's go kill some bitches." Hisoka's grin returned to his face as he turned and headed back to the base, the large group of reinforcements tailing behind him. He knew that they would come. Now, maybe they had a chance and that damn Yamanaka could stop pretending to be a hero.

Hisoka and the others stormed the camp, reclaiming it as their own. But, where was Inokana? Hisoka scanned the battlefield for the Yamanaka subconsciously hoping to see him still putting up a fight against the enemy. Another enemy shinobi started running at Hisoka with a katana in hand. He threw an inward strike which Hisoka blocked, and then a direct straight strike aimed at Hisoka's torso. Knocking the blade away, Hisoka side stepped slamming his foot spikes down on the opponent's own foot before stabbing Death Strike through his back as he fell forward. As Hisoka rounded the corner, he saw Inokana leaned against the side of a large rock. His wounds looked fatal and he was barely moving. Hisoka quickly approached him and knelt down next to him. "Medic! Get your ass over here! Inokana. Talk to me, bro. You alive?" Inokana's swollen eyes pried themselves open to look at Hisoka. "What... the hell are you doing here? I thought... I told you to take the others and-" His own bloody cough interrupted him.
"I don't take orders from you, did you forget?" Hisoka said a melancholy playfulness in his voice. "The reinforcements showed up so we came back." One of the medics from the reinforcement’s team arrived at the scene and immediately started working to keep Inokana alive. Another one of the shinobi approached the two captains. "Taicho-sama, the enemies seem to have retreated." A triumphant smirk spread across Hisoka's face. "Hah! Pussies! That'll teach them not to mess with the ninja of the bloody mist, right Kana?" He turned back to face the broken Yamanaka. "Kana?..." He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the medic. "What's wrong with you? Heal him dammit!" The healing green glow around the medic's hands faded away as they took their hands away from the motionless body. "I'm so sorry, Taicho-sama. We were too late. His wounds were too severe. I couldn't save him." Hisoka looked at the medic as if he didn't quite understand. His eyes traced the lifeless body. "He's... dead? You let him die?!" Hisoka stood abruptly followed by the medic who kept apologizing. He lunged at the medic. "You call yourself a goddamn medic and you couldn't even save one of your own captains?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!-"
"Sir! Please, let us go inside and discuss our next move." The sound of the squad leader’s voice pulled Hisoka's attention away from the medic. Hisoka nodded, not taking his intense glaring eyes off of the medic. "Yeah. Sure." He paused before turning and walking swiftly past the squad leader toward the main tent.

~~~

Mission Report: Whatever the fuck we are doing in the land of Iron

It took your damn reinforcements long enough to show up. We were nearly driven out of our base by enemy forces. Their numbers seem fucking limitless. There must be several hundred of them gathered here. We lost another six shinobi today before the reinforcements arrived, including Inokana. It was down to me and two others. I guess we should have enough men now to hold off another attack. But, now that Inokana is gone, everyone is looking to me to decide the next move, to tell 'em that everything's gunna be O.K. and shit like that but... I'm not sure what to tell them. I mean, Inokana was the one to give the motivational speeches and hold everybody's hand. I don't do that shit. I told them that we are gunna stay here stationed at base until we hear back from you. I hope this shit gets figured out soon 'cause I'm getting sick of living on food pills.

P.S. Send better medics next time because these guys don't know their ass from a hole in the ground.

Hisoka's feet crunched through the thick fresh powdered snow that blanketed the Land of Iron. The large group of Kirigakure shinobi that were sent as reinforcements by the Mizukage of the Hidden Mist Village trailed behind their lead jounin. His beloved weapons rested comfortably in their places, clinging to his body like they were part of him, like they were an extension of his own limbs. A light colored vest lined with a soft fur interior covered his torso. The long white fur that lined the hood mingled with his own light turquoise hair. His hair once matched the color of the fur but as the weeks turned to months and the months to years it began to adopt an even less natural hue. His muscular shoulders were exposed as were a majority of his arms. However, clinging tightly to the bulging muscles of his forearms were white bandages wrapping from this knuckles to his elbow. The chilled wind pushed his loose navy pants to cling tightly to slender but powerfully built legs. His slender cat-like eyes narrowed into a squint as the frozen wind whipped at him. His face wore a dangerous expression - a scowl that reeked of blood lust in the name of revenge. He was ready to spill the blood of those who had dared to push him as far as they did. He was beyond done being kicked around by these a$$holes. He was a jounin and officially appointed council member of the Bloody Mist - a village known for it's power and recognized for it's ruthless and merciless shinobi. A title that came with power, evoked fear, and demanded respect. If there was one thing that topped the long list of things that pissed Hisoka off, it would be loosing a battle. And he would not let it happen again.

Hisoka's intent-filled strut came to a stop as he arrived at his destination. Sure enough, nestled within the valley that Inoshi had mentioned, was the main enemy base camp. It could barely be made out because of the thick ice picked up by the wind. It was the fuel that was required to feed the fierce fire that violently kindled in the golden irises of his inhuman eyes. Hisoka's scowl slowly molded into a dangerous grin. He could already see the pathetic panic on their unsuspecting faces before the succumb to their impending death. He sent a controlled pulse of chakra into each piece of paper that he had. Hisoka could feel each of the vibrate within their pouches with the same intensity of energy that he possessed - like wild animal succumbing to the insanity of the cage that they have been forced into. Hisoka raised his arms as if to unleash them from their slumber and with a sudden flurry of motion the several hundred pieces of paper flew into action. Intermingled within these papers were a couple dozen explosive. Bending and flowing with Hisoka's will, each piece scattered itself around the area, the explosive tags venturing up to the vulnerable snowy slopes that surrounded the base.

Hisoka paused. "Let's see how much they like the snow, shall we?" Forming his hands into a single seal, he pulsed chakra into the explosive notes that lay within the snow. A deep blast cushioned by the thick snow and heavy wind echoed through the valley. This was followed by the series of low cracks and a steady rumble of the avalanche tumbling down from both sides of the camp. Hisoka could hear the shouting of the unsuspecting shinobi cut through the wind. With the force of battling gods, the two avalanches met at the base of the valley, crushing the enemy camp beneath its colossal weight. The grumbling a tumbling faded and subsided. All that remained was the sound of the whipping wind whistling through their ears. After a brief moment of silence, Hisoka moved in. He assumed that there was going to be survivors. These were elite shinobi after all and would probably not be completely taken out with Hisoka's avalanche tactic.

Signalling for his team to follow, they ventured closer to the scene. As Hisoka expected there were several shinobi climbing up from within the snow and several that were able to fend off the avalanche with whatever means necessary. However, there were more than he had expected. He scowled, contorting his nose and mouth in frustration "Tch! Fuckers don't know when to die. Let's teach these pieces of shit to mess with Kirikaure's finest. Stay back," Hisoka warned his platoon. He caused dormant paper beneath the snow to travel through the snow, as not to be detected. He waited until the paper was close to the target before it leaped from its hiding place and onto the user. Many of these pieces of paper were more of the explosive seals that were not used to cause the avalanche. Quickly forming several hand signs in order to activate two different jutsu, Hisoka caused the paper to stick to the six enemies that they had contacted so that they could not pull them off. Additionally, he changed ten of the plain papers into explosive seals, each under his control awaiting his call to obliterate their opponent. At this point each of the enemy shinobi had three explosive seals planted over vital points. With a simple surge of chakra the six targeted shinobi were ignited in a brief moment of explosion. Their motionless bodies toppled onto the snow. He then signaled the group to exterminate the survivors. It did not take them long to exterminate the remaining rogue shinobi. The bodies of the enemy scattered the snowy ground now tainted with dirt and blonde. The silence of death ensued, the sweet silence of victory that Hisoka craved. Closing his eyes for a moment, he allowed himself to feel the frozen wind whip across his skin as if to remind himself that he was not part of that silence. Not yet and not anytime soon. He felt the thick drop of someone else's blood that dripped slowly down his face begin to dry against his paper white skin.

I did it, Inoshi. I did it. Can you hear the silence? It's over...


Mission Report: Kicking Ass in the Land of Iron

Mission accomplished. Consider the rogue ninja threat completely and utterly annihilated. Thanks to the coordinates that you sent, we were able to find the rogue ninja's main base. Idiots were positioned in the middle of a valley as if they were just asking to get snuffed. There were a considerable amount of them but nothing I couldn't handle. One of the guys in the platoon found something weird on one of the rogue ninja. It was a letter written to someone named Mazagashi Hyoto. It said something about their cooperative deal with this other party was not working. Seems like there is more to this than just those rogue ninja junkies. I'll stay stationed here until you let me know what's next.



Hisoka placed the pen on the table next to the letter. He rolled the scroll paper up and leaned back in his chair toying with the small scroll in his hands. A subtle smirk tickled the edges of his lips as he praised his victory. It was beginning to look like Hisoka could finally return home - somewhere he never thought that he would miss so much. Exploration, travel, conquering the unknown had always sparked his interest as a youngster. However, it had been years since he had set foot on the shores of Kirigakure. He missed the sound of the waves, the rain, the thick fog. He missed his workshop and his complete collection of weapons. He missed his bed, good food, and a hard drink. However, if it really came down to it, Hisoka knew that he could live without all of that. He had been living without all of that. There was only one thing that he knew that he couldn't live without - one thing that he missed above all else. His memories had been tormenting his emotions since the day he left, tugging at the heart strings that he hated to have, reminding him of the one thing that he craved but could not have. However, all of that was soon to change. Now that the rogue ninja threat had been extinguished, home was just around the corner.

The refreshingly uplifting thoughts of home brought Hisoka up out of his chair in an oddly cheerful manner. Tossing the scroll back and forth between his hands, Hisoka began to whistle a simple tune as he walked toward the door of the large central tent. After brushing the flap back and ducking under it into the outside world, Hisoka froze. A heavy stone felt as if it had dropped to the bottom Hisoka's stomach as his eyes shot open wide in shock. There, scattered like confetti on the snow covered ground in front of Hisoka, were the sliced and diced corpses of the entire Kirigkure unit. They were obviously sword wounds - something that Hisoka was very familiar with. How could he not have noticed? How could he not have heard something? This was more than the rogue ninja. No, these people were even better than the rogue ninja. Could this be the work of the legendary samurai native to the land of iron? If this was the case, he was even more outnumbered than he originally anticipated. He bolted to all of the other tents, violently opening each flap door desperately in search of at least one survivor.

Stumbling out of the last tent, his frantic expression mirrored his inner turmoil. How could this have happened again? He pressed his fingers against his forehead and temples as he scanned the bloodied battlefield once more before running his fingers through his hair. He had no other choice but to retreat. This was the end of the line. Why the f*ck had they spared him? Where they too pu$$y to fight him face to face? Hisoka's shock swiftly turned to anger as he throw his arms down kicking the snow up. "F*ck!" He paused before he viciously glared into the distance. "Where are you f*cking sh*t heads now huh?! Why don't you grow a pair and fight me?! I dare you!" The only answer was an echo of his own voice carried back to him by the wind.

Shamefully gathering what was necessary, Hisoka left the tent one last time. He took one last look at the base. It had been his home for the past few years. Now, when he was finally able to walk away from it, it was not because of victory like he had planned but because of loss. At least now he could return home. Now, his tormenting memories could finally become a reality.

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