[Kisei Takatō]

SLEEP NO MORE

A week had passed since the escort mission went out. A small team for a simple job—a genin and his chuunin team lead, with none others necessary in what was supposed to be a routine mission. Simple objective, minimal threats, the perfect job for a developing genin. A week had passed, and no word. Taka was sent out to find them. Any number of things could have gone wrong; the two shinobi could have been killed, waylaid by environmental factors, gotten distracted at a local hot springs, gotten lost or injured or otherwise interrupted in their journey. Things went wrong. The fear, Taka thought, was that nothing had gone wrong, and the two had simply left. Defected. There was no reason to think this, no evidence leading up to it. But they had to be sure. Best case scenario, it was an accident, or an honest mistake. In the worst case scenario, it was better not to lose their trail. Taka had no gift for sensory ninjutsu, but he was one of the village’s better trackers regardless, even if it felt arrogant to think so. He received a copy of the original mission details, went to where the shinobi would have started their journey from, and followed the most logical route to take. A week was a long time for evidence to disappear, but it was there if you looked closely enough; the remains of a broken-down camp, broken twigs and disturbed leaves that betrayed the passage of one, two, three travelers. And then: a fight, clear as day. Splatters of dried blood haplessly flung across the hard-packed dirt road, scratched-up kunai laying abandoned—misaimed, more likely—in the bushes a few meters away, the trampled and muddied footprints scrambling one on top of the other, all but worn away by a week’s worth of undisturbed travel over the same road. From there—two bodies had been dragged. Where the third went, Taka couldn’t say; perhaps more carefully handled, maybe to be held for ransom. Hoofprints betrayed a packhorse. Along the road for a while, then flattened grass and into the treeline for a few kilometers more until: a camp. Tents. A fire. A hideout. Taka scaled up to a vantage point, footsteps silent and his breathing carefully controlled as he maneuvered from treetop to treetop until he could get a decent line of sight over the majority of the camp. He crouched, hiding in the branches’ shadows, until he could find was he was looking for: a boy, a team lead, and the escortee.

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[kuishinbou kashiwa]

Blood surfaced and pooled around metal edges, edges that carved into once unbroken tanned flesh. Where sleeves had been torn, burns cradled rough hempen cord and bound arms and legs together. All this and a constant watch as the lazy tip of a spearhead occasionally dipped to take a millimeter from Kashiwa’s neck before rising back up at attention.

Some distance to the boy’s right, languid and propped up against sliver-ridden lumber, was his charge, a delicate little lordling maybe twice or three times removed from the line of succession but cherished nonetheless. Though their quality was concerning, the shallow rise and fall of the boy’s chest was a profound solace to the young genin.

Despite everything, there was hope.

Dragging his face across the dirt where it lay, Kashiwa adjusted to search for the woman who was supposed to be in charge of him. That is, the woman who had betrayed him.

Standing around a bonfire, hiding her nervousness behind a labored wheeze of a laugh, was the chuunin he’d once called his sensei. She wasn’t much older than him but was easily his senior in ability. And, what’s worse, she knew him and what he could do.

He hadn’t held much back at the exams and they’d been working together for a little while now. The element of surprise was more elusive than ever. Plus, she’d probably briefed the group of mercenaries turned bandits on what he was capable of. If he was going to escape, it would take a miracle. And, track record aside, he was no great fan of suicide missions.

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[kuishinbou kashiwa]

Hours passed and those glimmers of hope slowly waned. An attempt to shift, in what little space was afforded the genin, was rewarded with a kick in the side; any attempts to form hand seals were met with tighter restraints and more barbaric treatment. But, luckily, it seemed it never occurred to the group that Kashiwa would be more concerned with the wellbeing of the young boy he was responsible for.

If they were, they might have tried to use him as leverage, to get any information out of the genin that they hadn’t already received from his teacher. But ransoms usually worked better if your hostage was only moderately injured; not on death’s door. So, for now, the boy was safe.

Dusk fell and stole what little vantage Kashiwa had with his head pressed into the earth. With the light, chances that the remnants of this party be spotted and saved receded behind cracks in tree bark and beneath heavy stones. They threatened to vanish completely if not revealed soon.

But then the chuunin team leader's head jolted up. A shock of blonde locks danced as she leapt to her feet and roused those near her to attention. From across her back she pulled Kashiwa’s bow and readied an arrow, training on the mass of chakra she’d suddenly felt. "At the tree line.” She pointed near where Taka was posted up with the head of an ill-obtained arrow. "I can’t see where though.”

Kashiwa wasn’t sure what was happening, be it at the tree line or around the fire, but what he recognized immediately was an opportunity. The guard who’d been keeping watch on him turned their attention to the commotion the young woman was making. And, with all eyes off him, Kashiwa was finally able to act.

Ropes slid from his bloody marred forearms and metal chains hit the earth with a soft thud as the boy rose in their wake. Like a light, his hands shot to the waistband of his former warden and grabbed a small utility knife. He’d otherwise been stripped of his belongings, but any weapon would do. His free hand formed three quick seals and then mocked the long curved blade of a scimitar from the tip of his weapon.

Behind his fingertips, wind chakra swelled. With a quick shift of his form, planting the balls of his feet into the packed earth, he readied himself for whatever was to come next.

409 words | Kisei Takatō

Jutsu Used: 1 Low, 1 Very Low

[Kisei Takatō]

SLEEP NO MORE

Taka had always been more gifted at gathering information than interpreting it, but it was difficult to cast away what he was looking at, or give the benefit of the doubt—the chuunin, the team leader, a woman who had been trusted with leadership of the village’s youth, sat laughing around the bonfire while her student and her charge lay beaten and bound in the dirt. A piece of him wanted to believe that he was misinterpreting what he was seeing. She twisted towards him, pulling a bow from her back and aiming an arrow right at him. At the tree line, she said, rousing the others. It was a rare occasion that Taka’s level, thoughtful calm gave way to anger. This was one of those moments. Before the arrow let fly, Taka formed a single handseal and flash-stepped to the ground, flickering into view behind the chuunin in the middle of the campsite. The position made him vulnerable, considering the number of bandits that now surrounded him, but that was ideal—better that he be the target than either of the teenagers. From the corner of his eye he watched the genin—Kashiwa—now deftly free of his bondage, filch a knife from his sensei’s belt. Taka quickly yanked an explosive tag from his own utility belt and launched a one-two combo, striking the chuunin hard in the back with the palms of his hands; and more importantly, affixing the explosive tag to the center of her back. "You’re a traitor to the village,” he said. Quiet, but forged in steel. Keep her attention on him, and away from Kashiwa. "I’ll be taking you in.”

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