Chapter 7: Distant Thunder

"We've been here two weeks now," Shikigami announced gruffly, standing tall atop the rock formation that allowed him to survey his audience. The entire population of 'The Village Hidden in the Swamp'—barring the three genin on guard duty—watched him raptly.

"We've been lucky so far; most of us are still alive, we've had positive contact with the nearest town, and no one's come looking for us," he said. His smile was more a baring of teeth. "Funny thing about luck: the better you are, the more of it you have. Based on how lucky we've been, I'd say we're seriously godsdamn good."

A quiet chorus of "damn right!", "preach it!", and "oorah!" went around the cave.

"Now, we're settled in," he said. "Living quarters are built. Water is being pumped out so we aren't squatting in puddles. We've got two separate escape tunnels. We've got a smoke room for meat, and a vent system to disperse the smoke. We've got a well-stocked larder so we don't have to eat any more of those stinking trail bars." He snorted. "Don't know about the rest of you, but if I had to have one more bite of the stuff, I would have marched into the swamp and let it bloody well have me."

Quiet laughs answered him. The trail rations were a constant source of griping; bars made of compressed nuts, seeds, and jerky held together with honey, they were delicious the first time you tried them and sickening the thirty-first.

"Take a moment to recognize your accomplishments," Shikigami said seriously. "We have escaped the second most powerful ninja village on Earth. We have passed freely through the territory of the most powerful ninja village on earth. We have taken up residence in a hellhole of a swamp and made that swamp our chewtoy. Those gators that were so impressive on the way in? I went out yesterday, couldn't find a one of them within two miles. Team Kurosawa"—he nodded at the genin in question—"were the first to meet one of those spiderbears. Bigass hairy monsters, lightning fast, Lightning attacks. Bunch of genin folded the thing up like a piece of origami and mailed it home to its mom." Another nod, this time to a team on the other side of the group. "Team Hisakawa met up with that mobile vegetable monster with the toxic spore jets and mind-control tentacles. Turns out, the things are mighty tasty with a bit of salt.

"Time after time, you have shown yourselves to be some of the most badass shinobi it has ever been my pleasure to serve with." He mock-glared at one of the chūnin. "Even if some of you snore like a godsdamned ripsaw and keep me up half the night!"

The chūnin, a blocky man named Takanaki, laughed and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Sorry, sir!" he said with a smile.

Shikigami snorted. "Well, given how you blew the everloving crap out of that nest of fire-breathing ants, and waterproofed my living quarters, I'll let it go. This time, anyway."

His face got serious again. "It's taken a bit of time, but we've got our feet under us. The short-term challenges are dealt with, now it's time to look to the future. There are three main challenges facing us: Mist, Leaf, and growth.

"Mist is simple: Captain Zabuza is hunting us, and he's going to find us eventually. Now, we all know what a murder-boner Yagura has for people like us; he'll have told Captain Zabuza to bring our heads back on a plate."

A nervous sussurance went around the circle. Shikigami patted the air to quiet everyone down.

"Unclench your sphincters," he told them. "He's impressive as hell, but Captain Zabuza is just a man. He still puts his boxers on one leg at a time."

"He doesn't wear boxers!" Inoue shouted with a raunchy grin. "He can't find ones big enough to fit!"

There was a surge of catcalls from around her.

"I will leave that to our resident expert," Shikigami said. "Personally, that's a bit more information about Captain Zabuza's crotch than I would have preferred. Now, if I may continue?" He waited with exaggerated politeness until she nodded.

"Like I said, Captain Zabuza is going to show up," he said. "He's going to do the standard hunter-nin thing: send a water clone in to talk to us, promise to take us back unharmed, give us the chance to plead our case, blah blah blah." He snorted. "He's good at it too; I went on two or three missions with him, back when I was a chūnin. He's as smooth with his words as he is with that damn sword. Over the years he's actually talked half a dozen missing-nin into 'coming in from the cold.' Damn fools.

"Anyway, once he sees that we're not stupid enough to go for the trap, he'll start hanging around the camp, picking off anyone he can. I'm not going to lie, it'll be bad; there's a reason he's called the Demon. He won't risk a frontal assault against four jōnin, a dozen chūnin, and a whole pack of genin who have demonstrated more combat capacity than most chūnin." He paused to glare. "Get those smiles off your faces! What, you think because I say one nice thing you can let your heads swell up?! If I want you feeling happy, I'll damn you tell you to be happy!" He continued mock-glaring furiously until everyone settled down again.

"Over the next few days I'll be coordinating with the other jōnin and the senior chūnin to design traps, sensors, and defenses throughout the swamp. You think this place is a hellhole now? By the time we're done the combined forces of Leaf and Mist together couldn't march through here without getting their gonads blown up into their necks.

"We'll also be looking for strategic assets. In particular, we're going to go out recruiting for a sealmaster, at least one medic, and all the missing-nin we can find who are smart enough to be interesting and good enough to be worth our time. Suggestions are welcome from the peanut gallery as well.

"That takes care of Mist. Next is Leaf. Leaf is a lot easier than Mist; they aren't actively looking for us. Oh, I'm sure they've got some people scouting the area; they saw our tracks on the way in, so they'll want to keep an eye out for a while. They aren't going to be putting a huge force on it, though. Our tracks showed us cutting through Fire on a course for Grass and then disappearing into the swamp. They don't want to come into this swamp; we saw that on the way in. Most likely, they'll figure we're either dead or out of the country. So long as we don't actually wave our bits in their faces and shout 'all Leaves are pansies' at them, they're not going to bother with us. Doesn't mean we don't need to be ready for them, but they are a longer term issue.

"Most important challenge we're facing is growth. We need to recruit more nin. We need a sealmaster. We need a proper medic. We need to find a steady income source. Taking ninja missions per se would fall into the category of insult-shouting and bits-waving that I previously mentioned to be undesirable, but there are plenty of other options.

"The swamp has resources to sell. Hotaru said she might be able to salvage the Lightning Element-generating organs from a spiderbear corpse, if she could get to it fresh. If she can do it, there's all sorts of possibilities there.

"We can present ourselves to various towns as civilian hunters and get paid to exterminate the local wildlife; it's a solid cover because there really are civilians who make a living doing that." He waved over at Team Kurosawa. "That bunch of troublemakers is going to be trying out the 'exterminate' part later today, although someone else will handle the actual bargaining.

"As I mentioned before, we'll be looking to recruit. You can't be a ninja village without at least one sealmaster and one medic; next week Inoue will be leading a team to find one of each and bring them back. It will need to be a complete vanish; no evidence whatsoever, so there's going to be some competition for the job. If you think you're hard enough, leave your name with Inoue and start thinking. You won't know the conditions of the challenge until it starts but the basic parameters will be 'kidnap high-value ninja, return him to village while leaving no trace'. Once he's here, Inoue and a few others will have time to...convince him that he should make his home here from now on.

"Right now we are a tiny village, but I intend for us to grow, and to become strong. All of you are the future leaders of this village; five years from now, every one of you will be a jōnin with the power to stand against your opposite number from any village in the world. Those of you who are jōnin and chūnin: you will be the leaders of this village, the cadre that sets our policies and recruits, trains, and shapes the next generation.

"Lest you are feeling left out: right now you are teenagers at best. You have the experience, the knowledgebase, and the maturity of teenagers—which is to say, not much. This is not your fault; youth is a condition that is cured only by time. How much time it requires is up to you; five years from now—hell, one year from now—you will have the power of jōnin. You will not have the authority of jōnin until you prove you're worthy of that trust. None of you are stupid, and I see a great deal of potential in all of you. If you want to live up to that potential, if you want to be worthy of a place of respect among the adults, then you need to learn to be leaders, not followers. I expect to see you stretching yourselves and growing faster than you think you can. I expect to hear suggestions. I expect to hear intelligent questions. Most challenging of all, I expect to see awareness as to when it's appropriate to ask questions and when it's appropriate to shut your yap and follow orders. Am I clearly understood?!"

"YES, SIR!" bellowed the genin.

"Good!" Shikigami yelled back. "Then get the hell outta my cave and go earn that trust!"

o-o-o-o​

The trip out of the swamp went by faster than ever before, as the genin were too excited to stop talking. The routes in and out were well mapped by this time, and they dealt with the hazards with unthinking ease—Wakahisa whipped several bloodbeaks out of the air without pausing in his enthusiastic babble about spear-lily farming as perimeter defense. A razorsnake leaped at them from under the water; Hazō was too absorbed in brainstorming with Mori to notice that he had grabbed the snake out of the air, twisted its head around, and tossed it aside without even noticing he'd done it.

Even Mori was excited. suggestions for optimizing logistics poured out of her so fast she tripped over her words, her mouth unable to keep up with her brain.

The excitement carried them the full two hours to the town; it was only with some effort that they put it away and focused down on the mission.

The planning had been simple, because the basic plan was simple: find a lone steelback, trap it, drown it. The only awkwardness had happened when Hazō had been thinking about contingencies.

"If it manages to break the whip, I should be able to stab it from in front—it won't have bristles on its nose," Hazō had said.

"I like that plan," Wakahisa had replied. "After you slash your arm to ribbons on the wall'o'knives and it tramples you into the mud, I expect Shikigami will give me my own team." He had turned to his other teammate with a magnanimous wave. "Mori, you can be my second."

Mori hadn't said a word, just studied him for long seconds until Wakahisa's confident body language faded.

"Hm," Mori had said, before looking aside and vanishing back into her own world.

"Incoming!" Hazō said, pelting out of the trees at a speed that would have been a top-speed sprint for a civilian but was only a moderate dash for a ninja. Behind him came eight hundred pounds of furious animal, squealing furiously and gnashing its teeth. Two-foot gleaming-steel bristles stuck out of it in all directions.

"What did you do?! You were supposed to find a small one!" Wakahisa shouted, opening his cask and pouring the water into a ten-foot whip.

"This was the smallest one I could find!" Hazō said, dropping the looped end of his ninja wire behind him and leaping for the giant ash tree they'd determined would be their ambush point. They'd originally intended to use the immense oak twenty yards to the east...until they discovered that the whole thing was coated in tiny ants whose shells exuded acid. Mori had gotten acid burns across much of her forearm; fortunately, Noburi had managed to wash the acid off before it did enough to incapacitate her.

The genin had barely gotten his feet into the tree when the boar's left front leg stepped into the open loop of ninja wire. Hazō hurled himself off the branch, blasting chakra through his feet to fire himself at the ground. The boar outweighed him by six to one; he needed as much speed as he could get in order to yank its foot to the side and make it trip. The pig...

rolz.org said:
Hazō, Weapons:
sum 3 1D100 => 51 ; 14 ; 45 ; total=110

Pig, Being-A-Horrible-Chakra-Monsterness:
sum 3 1D100 => 96 ; 36 ; 33 ; total=165

...swerved, lifting its foot out of the loop just as Hazō yanked it closed. Squonking in fury, it charged at where Hazō had just touched the ground, clearly determined to rip the genin's guts open and dance on them.

An errant beam of sunlight filtered through the trees and gleamed off the loop of Mori's ninja wire as it...

rolz.org said:
Mori, Weapons:
sum 5 1D100 => 85 ; 78 ; 73 ; 62 ; 72 ; total=370

Pig, Being-A-Horrible-Chakra-Monsterness:
sum 3 1D100 => 16 ; 3 ; 39 ; total=58

Result: (370-58) / (5+3)**0.65 = +80

...wrapped with delicate perfection around the hog's head just behind its stubby ears, lacing through the forest of spikes without being diverted. The genin leaped off her tree branch, swinging herself down and around the thick trunk in a descending spiral before latching herself to the bark with the most powerful tree-walking she'd ever attempted. Eight hundred pounds of hog hit the limits of the ninja wire at fifteen miles an hour; the windings around the tree trunk kept the wire from being pulled out of Mori's hands.

The loop pulled tight and the pig nearly decapitated itself; blood fountained everywhere, and the pig dropped, instantly dead.

It took a moment for Noburi and Hazō to finish blinking in shock and cautiously approach the pig carcass. By the time they did, Mori was standing in front of it, hands clasped behind her back as she bent to inspect the bristles.

"Uh...," said Wakahisa.

"I thought you were just supposed to catch its leg," Hazō said in amusement. "Didn't we have this whole cunning plan where you and I were going to each get a loop around one foot and hold the thing immobile while 'hisa drowned it? What happened to the plan?"

"You missed," Mori said absently, before going back to studying the bristles.





The next three hours were spent on cleanup; they very carefully filled in all the damage the boar had done to the ground, replacing as much of the turf as possible, brushing out all the tracks they could manage, and covering up as much as possible of the blood. They couldn't do much to conceal the damage to the treebark and the gashes where the ninja wire had dug in, but those weren't quite so obvious.

By the time they finished, the only signs that there had been a battle were the damage to the trees and the eight-hundred-pound skinned-out carcass. The latter was easily dealt with; they simply poured a trail of blood from the acid-ants tree to the carcass. After a few minutes observation to make sure the ants followed the trail, the team was on their way home. The storage scroll that Shikigami-sensei had loaned them ("If I find so much as one tiny stain, I will make a replacement scroll from your skin!") was stuffed full of hundreds of bristles and several dozen pounds of what was probably going to be delicious meat. The excitement and pride of the hunt buoyed them up on the way back, making the miles fly by effortlessly. Mori blushed when the boys teased her and called her 'Mori the Mighty, Slayer of Pigs!' but she didn't seem all that bothered.

Four o'clock found them most of the way home, skating smoothly across Red Route One, the most direct of the mapped paths leading to the lair from their entry point into the swamp. They were making the southwest turn to avoid the waterskater nest when the distinctive BOOM! of an explosive tag echoed across the swamp from the east.





Vote time!

Do you investigate? The lair is southwest of you, the noise came from the east and relatively close—maybe half a mile or a mile, but not more than a few minutes travel.

- Hell yeah! Charge like badass swamp warriors!

- Hell no! Run like scared swamp rabbits!

- Hell yeah! But could we maybe try being stealthy for once?





XP reward: (3 (survived) + 3 (achieved all objectives on simple mission) + 1 (achieved them with style)) * 2 (moderate risk) = 14 XP
 
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Chapter 8: Gust Front

Hazō quickly weighed retreat versus advance. If there was a friendly ninja over there, and one in enough danger to use exploding tags, then there was no time to lose. By the time Team Kurosawa reported back to base and got backup, the person in need of help would almost certainly be dead. And on the off-chance that it was a neutral ninja (perhaps the inhabitant of that mysterious shelter from earlier), rescuing them from a threat would be a great way to establish first contact.

But if it was an enemy… well, if it was an enemy, then they'd need to find out as fast as possible so they could warn the base. And the enemy couldn't be that tough if they were being forced to use exploding tags against the local wildlife—something even Hazō's genin team hadn't needed to do so far. Of course, if Hazō's assumptions were wrong, then he and his team would die horribly. Just like most missions.

Oh. There was one more possibility.

"Dispel!"

Nothing happened, which was definitely for the best. A genjutsu user would mean a chūnin or jōnin enemy.

Hazō quickly made a series of hand signals. Primary. Stealth. Secondary. Speed. Pincer Formation Three. He didn't know the sign for the Water Clone Technique, but improvised. Water. Clone. Take Point.

Wakahisa's two clones moved to the front of the formation, and the party began to move.

After a few seconds, Mori, still facing forward, suddenly moved her hand out towards Wakahisa, and made a series of signs. Abort. Ninjutsu. Risk of Exposure.

The movement being in Wakahisa's peripheral vision, it took him a second to notice and react. In that second, one of his clones moved too close to a clearly visible banshee lizard, and the creature let loose one of its characteristic paralytic shrieks before vanishing into the water.

Damn damn damn. Hazō had overlooked, and Wakahisa had failed to remind him, that water clones only had a small fraction of the original's skill and power—and Wakahisa's sneaking skills were already the minimum required to qualify as a genin. Now anything in the target area (and quite a large range nearby) would know that they were coming.

The team abandoned any pretence of stealth, and ran.

-o-
Of course, the area was completely empty.

"Great job," a frustrated and humiliated Hazō told Wakahisa. "I thought Mist didn't use distraction genin anymore, but since I'm clearly wrong, I'll get Shikigami-sensei to issue you the standard black pyjamas."

"Oh, yeah?" Wakahisa shot back, his face a vivid shade of pink. "Well, maybe it is my fault—for trusting our glorious leader to pay attention when giving orders. You're supposed to know your teammates' abilities off by heart instead of—"

"Boys."

If looks could kill, Mori would never have been assigned to Logistics & Support.

"Moving on…" Hazō said once the petrification had worn off, "we need to fan out and look for clues as to what happened here. Five minutes, then we report back to Shikigami-sensei."

The source of the explosion wasn't hard to find. There was a big, roughly spherical dent in a nearby ridge, the remaining soil covered with blood. If there were any other remains, Hazō suspected, they were somewhere deep under the water, and would probably be consumed by the local fauna before any detailed investigation could locate them.

What was odd was that there were no other signs of battle. No ninjutsu damage, no kunai or shuriken sticking out of any surfaces, no lesser predators drawn by blood in the water. Could it be that—

"Kurosawa, Wakahisa, you need to see this."

Mori led them to a nearby tree. Something glinted in the sunlight among the branches. No, not something. A forehead protector, its location about right for a small object thrown clear by the explosion.

The sight of its torn blue cloth sent a chill down Hazō's spine in a way that the splatter of blood on the ridge had not. Forehead protectors were an easily-replaced and rarely-useful piece of armour, but they were also sacred. The forehead protector was the spirit of a ninja; it was what you brought back when you couldn't retrieve the body.

And the symbol this one bore consisted of five lines. The four wavy lines of water-unbound-by-form, slashed by the sharp horizontal line of the missing-nin. Hazō's mother had explained to him once, in a particularly morose mood, that some missing-nin kept their forehead protectors the same, indicating that they had been forced to leave the village but were loyal in spirit. Others put a slash through theirs as if cutting away their past, faking the original marking only when an objective demanded it. To them, wearing an unaltered forehead protector was like wearing a dead lover's clothing.

What the forehead protector said, in short, was that an ally had died here.

"Check it out, but don't move it. The location might be important," Hazō said softly.

Wakahisa quickly found himself something else to investigate, while Mori obediently climbed up.

Her face was completely expressionless when she climbed down.

"I know this one."

At Hazō's questioning look, she elaborated. "Inoue-sensei explained to me that the scratch in the lower left-hand corner was from when a Hidden Rock sniper nearly killed her. She often tells. Told. She often told that story because of how she repaid the sniper afterwards."

There was someone nearby powerful enough to take out Inoue-sensei. No prizes for guessing who.

"Well," the voice came from behind him. "So far, all according to plan."
-o-
Hazō whirled around, a kunai already in his hand. But what he saw froze him in his tracks.

Inoue-sensei, completely unharmed, gave him a friendly smile. "I knew you wouldn't have any trouble with those steelbacks."

Hazō's mind went into overdrive. If Inoue-sensei was dead, this was an impostor. But an impostor wouldn't pretend to be her right when they found evidence of her death. Therefore Inoue-sensei wasn't dead.

If Inoue-sensei wasn't dead but it looked like she was, then she'd faked her own death. If she'd faked her own death, she wouldn't want any witnesses saying she was alive. That meant she was about to kill them. Talking to them first was odd, but it fit her character. She'd been their teacher, if only briefly, and that meant she'd want to say goodbye.

Knowing he was probably already dead, Hazō threw the kunai anyway.

It passed right through Inoue-sensei as if she were a ghost.

"Dispel!"​

Everything stayed exactly the same. Hazō stared at his hands, still in the sealing position, as if they'd turned into venomous serpents.

"Dispel! Dispel! Dispel!"

Nothing.

"Good reflexes, Hazō!" Inoue-sensei beamed, unconcerned. "Here's the thing, though. A genjutsu mistress facing three genin who only just learned the technique? From that same mistress, no less? I can just overwhelm you with pure chakra. It's not something that comes up very much, because if you're that much stronger than the enemy, you don't normally need to bother with genjutsu in the first place."

Then there was only silence. No background noise of lethal swamp monsters seeking their prey. No bubbling of random gases escaping the water. Not even a breath of wind disturbing the leaves on the few nearby trees. Just silence.

"Will you kill us?" Even now, Mori's voice was barely audible.

"Come on, kids. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't stop for a chat first." Inoue-sensei rolled her eyes.

"Then…" Mori's eyes widened with some peculiar combination of fear and hope. "You intend to to ask us to flee with you!"

"You see? This is why I love my Mori!" In a blur of unreal motion, Inoue-sensei appeared in front of Mori, and wrapped her arms around the girl in an affectionate hug.

Mori went completely still, her arms down at her sides and her expression blank. Inoue-sensei winced, quickly disengaged and took a step back.

"Anyway, you've got it in one."

Wakahisa frowned sceptically. "Why would you want to run away? You and Shikigami-sensei gave that whole speech about how we had everything covered."

"Shikigami, huh?" Inoue-sensei sighed. "You know, when he described his plan to me and Kanna back in Mist, it all sounded perfect. Save lives, avoid the coming war, found a new village based on new ideals, do this, do that, contingency plans for absolutely everything…

"But I don't think he can pull it off anymore. Leaf is coming for us, Captain Zabuza is coming for us, and Shikigami doesn't have control of the big picture the way he thought he would. His plan to beat Captain Zabuza ? It's suicide, and even if it works, it doesn't solve anything. So Captain Zabuza dies. All that's going to happen is that the Mizukage is suddenly going to take us a lot more seriously. And I don't need to tell you why that would be bad.

"I don't want to die, kids. Rarely have, never will. But I'm an infiltration specialist. I know when to cut my losses and run, and I know how to make a clean getaway. That's why I've spent the last week pretending to pretend that I wasn't in despair. That's why I'm using up half the blood in my storage seals and why I've chosen a point on one of the more frequent patrol routes. When Captain Zabuza turns up, all he's going to get out of whoever he tortures is that I took my own life. Maybe he'll believe it and maybe he won't, but either way it beats sitting in that cave waiting to get killed."

"You really think we can't beat Captain Zabuza ?" Hazō asked.

"Come on now. You think the Mizukage is going to send one of his star jōnin alone against worse than three-to-one odds? I don't know what's coming any more than you do, but it's going to be worse than Shikigami claims. Maybe we can win with the defensible location and the knowledge of the swamp and its dangers, or maybe Captain Zabuza picks us off one by one and lets whoever is left in the cave to starve. I won't pretend I don't love gambling, but the Legendary Sucker herself wouldn't take those odds."

The logic, now Hazō looked at it, was inescapable. They'd only ever talked about facing Captain Zabuza himself, which would be scary but manageable with three jōnin against one, but they didn't really know anything about what Mist was going to do. For that matter, it was only an assumption that the Mizukage would send Captain Zabuza. It could be someone else, someone with abilities completely different to the ones Shikigami-sensei was preparing to counter.

"All right," he nodded. "Why us? You know we'd only get in your way."

Before Inoue-sensei could answer, Hazō's own mind abruptly filled in the blank on the answer sheet.

"You want us as sacrificial pawns to slow down pursuit."

"It's always a pleasure hearing a genin think like a ninja," Inoue-sensei told him. "But the truth is, maybe, despite our differences, I'm a little like Shikigami after all. He knew the mission was going to have a high casualty rate, and he could have bailed on his own, but instead he decided to save everyone he could. I can't do that, but I can at least save someone. And you guys? Well, Keiko here is the most adorable thing ever, and I get the feeling that if I invited just her, she'd ask me to bring you guys along anyway.

"Not that I mind too much. Mako and I go way back—went way back—and I'd feel bad if I let her one of her genin trainees die."

Warned by some primal instinct, Hazō tried to dodge the inevitable. But Inoue-sensei cheated, and the very fabric of unreality twisted and warped around his head, ruffling his hair while Inoue-sensei remained at long range. Hazō scowled, and made a note to brush up on his Dispelling Technique.

"And Noburi? I want to see if you can fulfil your potential. You could be a real ladykiller one day, if you can just learn how to use your tongue properly—and rest assured, that's something I can teach you in detail." She gave Wakahisa a mischievous wink, causing the latter to do his best beetroot imitation.

Then the smile dropped off her face. "Serious time now. The way I see it, you've got four options. You can come with me. I won't lie to you: it won't be easy. Small groups of missing-nin get taken out all the time. But on the other hand, I'm the best when it comes to going unnoticed, and in my plan we won't be hanging around next door to the world's strongest ninja village going, 'Hey, we're a great big potential threat, come and deal with us.' As an extra layer of paranoia, I won't tell you where I'm going unless you're coming with, but I can sum it up in five words. The. Hell. Away. From. Here.

"Option two: you throw yourselves on Captain Zabuza's mercy. If you walk out into the swamp making it really clear that you're just three genin trying to surrender, he might be generous. Mist must be pissed at the loss of manpower, and getting some of it back will earn Captain Zabuza brownie points with the Mizukage. You will have to tell him every tiniest detail about the base and the rest of the group, meaning you'll be signing their death sentence, but if you're OK with that, and if you play up the 'we were forced into it by a bunch of scary jōnin' angle, Mist may take you back into the fold.

"Option three: you start a rebellion. I'm not the only ninja questioning Shikigami's strategy, just the only one with the guts to take action. I'm not saying you try to fight Shikigami head-on, because the man is a combat monster, but if you and a bunch of others decide to straight-up walk out of there, what's he going to do? Kill you himself? Of course, a bigger group is also more likely to run into trouble on their way out.

"Final option: you follow Shikigami. He thinks he can take on all comers until he can strike some kind of deal with Leaf. I don't. Even if he manages to deal with Mist, Leaf has a hundred reasons to wipe us out and maybe a dozen to let us live. Hidden Swamp was a beautiful idea, and maybe if things were different it might even have worked. But we fled from a village whose ruler will do anything to eliminate traitors, and we chose to hide next door to a village so powerful that we can only exist at its mercy.

"Still, it's your life, and it's your decision."

She blinked as if remembering something. "Oh, yeah. Whatever you choose, I won't hurt you. You're in a forbidden genjutsu called Truth Lost in the Fog. As long as I'm willing to pay the price, I can choose for you to wake up as if you were dreaming, and forget everything you saw and heard.

"Now, make your choice. I have to be gone before the next patrol arrives."

[] Escape with Inoue-sensei
[] Try to surrender to Zabuza
[] Return to the base and try to leave with others
[] Forget all these disloyal options and stick with Shikigami-sensei's plan

Write-ins accepted.

Voting closes on Saturday the 9th​, 9 am Pacific Standard Time.​
 
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Chapter 9: Cutting the Cord

Hazō's brain was in overdrive, running the possibilities with a smoothness that felt like the way his body moved when he drew on his family's power.

Agree to go? No. This could be a loyalty test, in which case agreeing to go would be fatal...no, not fatal. Shikigami-sensei couldn't afford to kill off the members of his tiny village. It would bench the team, though. They'd never be let out of the cave again.

Decide to stay? No. It could be a sincere offer, in which case refusing to go might be fatal regardless of Inoue-sensei's claims that she wouldn't hurt them.

Actually, it might not even be Inoue-sensei. It could be something else entirely—a Leaf ninja, Captain Zabuza, a swamp monster, something—in which case the right move was to attack immediately. Of course, if it was Inoue-sensei—or, ancestors forbid, Captain Zabuza!—then attacking would be extremely painful or fatal. No, on second thought, the chances that this was anything other than Inoue-sensei were slim—she had shown too much knowledge of the team, and too many of Inoue-sensei's personality traits.

Stall until the next patrol came by? No, she wouldn't wait.

Lie? No. She was a deception expert, there was no way the team could play her.

That left only one option, and it was wildly uncomfortable; years of being taught to be reserved, to keep one's self hidden and protected, shouted at him not to show vulnerability. He firmly stamped on the embarrassment and spoke from the heart.

"Sensei, please don't leave," Hazō said, doing his best to let his sincerity show in his voice. It was easier to show sincerity on his face than in his voice; he had once walked in on momma sitting on the edge of her bed, her face buried in poppa's old flannel shirt and her shoulders shaking in quiet sobs. It was easy to wear the same expression he'd had at that moment, the more so because it was the one his face wanted to wear anyway.

"Please, sensei; we need you," he said. "How will Mori cope without you around to calm her down? Who's going to teach me to do more than punch things? Who's going to teach Wakahisa enough self-control to be sent on the good missions? Who's going to look after us—not as ninja, but as...well, as kids growing up? Shikigami-sensei is a great man and a good teacher, but you're the only one who has worried about us as people. Please don't go."

Inoue-sensei looked at him for a moment, then smiled sadly. "Sorry, kid," she said. "I'm going, one way or another. You three are good kids and I'll miss you, but I'm not willing to die. Shikigami had a good plan, but it's toes-up now. Are you coming or not?"

Damnit. What to do? Either choice could be wrong, not choosing was definitely wrong...the others weren't saying anything, and just waiting too long might well be taken as refusing the offer.

For long seconds, Hazō looked uncertainly at Inoue before turning to his team. "Mori, Wakahisa, what do you say? Personally, I think we should accept the memory wipe and stay with Swamp. All of us being together and staying in this swamp are the biggest things going for us right now, and I want to stick to Shikigami-sensei's plan, but I won't make that decision for you. This might end up being your only decent shot at leaving before Mist or Leaf stomps us down. If both of you want to go with Inoue-sensei, I'll go with you."

"I choose to go," Mori said quietly, looking at the ground. "Our loyalties are challenged, torn between Shikigami-sensei and Inoue-sensei. Both have offered us kindness in different ways, and neither has a perfect plan. If I must choose, however, I choose Inoue-sensei; she aided me with problems that Shikigami-sense did not notice, and I see fewer issues in her plan."

All three of the others turned to look at Wakahisa. The young genin fidgeted, trying to meet their gazes and failing.

"Uh..." he said.

Hazō waited a moment to see if his teammate would say anything else. When it became clear that he wouldn't, Hazō spoke up. "Wakahisa," he said as gently as he could. "I know things aren't totally smooth between us, but you're a good guy and a good teammate. You need to do what you think is right; neither of us is going to blame you no matter what you choose."

Wakahisa swallowed, his face shouting how badly he was torn. He eyed his teammates carefully, then looked at Inoue-sensei. "Sensei, why now?" he asked. "You said that Shikigami-sensei had this plan back in Mist; why did you go with him if you thought it wasn't going to work? We've been here two weeks and you're only leaving now—what changed?"

Inoue sighed. "It's complicated," she said. "It's part logical, part intuitive. Shikigami had these clever plans with lots of contingencies. I thought we were going good when we broke trail with all the sailing and waterwalking. We were followed coming through Leaf, although we never got spotted. Call it one to the good and one to the ohcrap.

"Shikigami figured that if we could stay clear of Captain Zabuza for a few weeks, Yagura wouldn't be able to keep us a top priority; he'd put a bounty on us like any other missing-nin—probably a big bounty, but still—and then go on to more immediate concerns. Like, for example, the war that was sure to start with Leaf. Going after the Noodle-brains was going to piss off Fire and cause a war between Mist and Leaf. If it did we had a great chance of getting lost in the shuffle."

She sat down tiredly, wrapping her arms around her knees and looking sad. "The chance of the war was part of why we went, y'know? Last time around, the death toll was horrendous, both among ninja and civilians, and none of us wanted to see that happen again. We thought that if the war happened we'd get forgotten about in favor of bigger fish, and we hoped that maybe the drop in combat strength from our absence would be enough that Yagura would back off on getting tangled up in another war. Either way, there was some profit; we could help ourselves, and maybe we could help our village.

"Shikigami's wanted to be Kage for a long time, but it was never going to happen in Mist; as strong as he is, he's not quite strong enough. Which is a pity because, honestly, he'd be good at it. He's strong, smart, charismatic, knows how to delegate, and—underneath that hardass exterior—is one of the most moral men I know. Mist would have flourished under him. If the war had happened we could have made a good go of it here, too. Doesn't look like it's going to, though; I was in town a couple days ago, and there was talk of an old man traveling through. From the description it sounds like Leaf's resident spymaster and diplomancer, the Toad Sage. If he's here, there's no war going on, and if it's held off this long it's probably not starting up in the immediate future."

She flashed her infectious grin at them. "Pity he didn't wait around a day or so longer; I would have loved to meet him." She clasped her hands in front of her innocently (not-so-coincidentally pressing her bosom together for extra-impressive cleavage) and made bedroom eyes.

"Ooh, are you really the famous Jiraiya?" she purred. "Ooh, I've heard so much about you! And I just love your Icha-Icha Paradise— is there any chance that I could model for a character?" She leaned in, taking a deep breath and making her eyes even more soulful. "I'd do anything to be in your wonderful novels, Jiraiya-senpai!"

She snorted and dropped the act. "He'd have seen through it, of course...after breakfast, anyway. Still, we always knew we were going to have to talk to Leaf eventually, and this would have been a great way to make, shall we say, positive first contact.

"The timing sucks, though. We planned for a lot of things, but not for Jiraiya showing up within two damn weeks. If we'd had the chance to get established and then reach out on our own, we would have had a good chance of getting client-state status, or at least being allowed to immigrate. Right now, though, we aren't strong enough to look impressive, and his presence would make it look like we'd been panicked into coming forward instead of doing it on our own terms."

"Do we have to reach out now?" Wakahisa asked. "Couldn't we wait, get established, then talk to them when we were ready? And you said the war would distract them. It could still happen, right?"

"Nice try, kid, but no," Inoue said. "Like I said, if Jiraiya's around that means there's no war going on or even on the horizon. And him being here means we have to assume we're blown. I mean, sure, maybe he's just doing a normal intelligence-gathering sweep, checking in with his contacts in the area. Not the way to bet, though, and a swamp is about the worst imaginable place to hide from a toad summoner."

"Why did we come here, sensei?" Mori asked. "Why not flee to Snow, or even out of the Elemental Nations?"

Inoue shrugged. "There weren't any really good choices," she said. "We talked about looping back, hiding out in Wolf or Vegetable—and by the way, who in the hells names their country 'the Land of Vegetables'? I mean, that's just asking to get your asses kicked." She snorted. "Anyway, we talked about hiding somewhere over there, but that left us too close to Mist for comfort. We could have headed for somewhere in the Kanashii Ocean, but the choices there were either 'be on top of a ninja village' or 'be somewhere where there's no civilians so we have to become farmers.' Snow was out—none of us had cold-weather survival experience.

"That put us on the mainland. Going to any of the smaller nations would have left us camping right next to a ninja village, and even the minor villages would be able to take us out if they wanted to. Wind is huge, but it's mostly flat and they have a ton of scouts that fly around on gliders; too easy to get spotted from the air. We couldn't blend in with the population in Earth, and Lightning puts us back in the 'cold weather survival' problem."

She shrugged. "The swamp was the best of a lot of bad choices. It's near a large number of ninja villages but it's ground that no one else wants. It's nominally in Fire, which means the adjacent villages aren't likely to send anyone into the area, but it's far enough out in the Great Bugger-All that Leaf doesn't spend a lot of time here. At the same time, if we could found an actual village here and then apply to Leaf for client-state status, we'd be between them and all their closest enemies."

"Sensei, isn't Fire allied with many of the nations here?" Mori asked.

Inoue laughed. "You're just adorable, you know that?" The words could have been harsh, but the tone of fondness took the sting out. "Yeah, they're theoretically allies with most of them, but alliances between ninja nations are fragile things. There's been a major war every generation for a hundred years, and we're about due—that's why we were giving such good odds on the Noodle Incident sparking things off between Mist and Leaf. Ninja move too fast to be able to find and stop an incoming strike force, but if we were here and provably allied to Fire then none of the neighbors would have wanted to bypass us to strike at Leaf."

"'Provably allied'?" Mori asked.

Inoue grimaced. "Yeah...let's not go there right now. It wasn't my favorite part of the plan. Anyway, the swamp is easy to hide in, the area around it is one of the more lightly patrolled in Fire, and Shikigami knew about the cave system, which makes a good fort and a good hide. Best of some bad choices."

She glanced up at the sun. "Anyway, time's a-wastin'. I'm leaving in sixty seconds, and you kids need to make your choice."

Everyone looked at Wakahisa again.

He was silent for a long moment, warring emotions on his face, before finally sighing and nodding. "I would like to go," he said.

Hazō's mouth tightened, but he forced his face to smooth out. "Very well," he said. "Then it's unanimous; we're all going."

Inoue bounced to her feet and clapped her hands gleefully. She waved casually and the world shimmered around them as the genjutsu released.

"Come on," she said. "We're going to put a few miles under us, then we'll sit down and make more definite plans. You wanted to learn more than punching? Great, first thing to learn is tactical planning; in this case that means 'where are we going' and 'what are we doing when we get there'." You know what the map looks like; start thinking about where we should hide out, how we're going to live when we get there, and what we can do to not get discovered and slaughtered in a gory and horrible fashion by someone from Leaf, or Mist, or whoever."

Mori started to open her mouth and Inoue waved her to silence. "Yes, yes," the jōnin said airily. "You're working with inadequate information. Welcome to the real world, kiddo. You come up with preliminary plans based on what you do know, then I'll give you an infodump on the various countries and you can refine your plans."

Team Kurosawa exchanged looks; as flippant as the words were, they still weren't entirely reassuring.

Inoue laughed. "Unclench your sphincters, as Shikigami would say. I've got some pretty good thoughts on all this; this is just an oral exam. Once we make camp I'll expect a clear statement of your chosen destination, the reasons for your choice, and a general outline of our activities for the next two weeks. No sacred cows—the reasons why a group of thirty ninja should or shouldn't go somewhere aren't relevant to whether a group of four should. Now, give me a minute to fake your deaths and then we're out of here. Follow me, and make sure you only step on the water; don't touch any grasses, reeds, or anything else that could leave a trace."

Without another word she snatched the forehead protectors off their heads, scorched them with a quick Fire ninjutsu, and scattered them and a bit more blood around. She herded them back onto the water, taking care to erase their tracks as she went, then studied the scene for a long minute. She stepped in and made some minor adjustments—flattening a patch of grass here, wiping out a last footprint there—then nodded in satisfaction.

"Welcome to the grave, kids and kiddies," she said. "How's it feel to be dead? No no, that was rhetorical! C'mon, let's get outta here." With a casual wave she turned and flitted away, stepping so lightly that she barely made a ripple. Unhappy but determined, Team Kurosawa followed in her wake.





Voting time! The map of the Elemental Nations is available.

-[] Where do you go?

-[] What do you do when you get there?

Explain your answers.

Voting closes 12pm UTC Wednesday, January 13, 2016.
 
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Chapter 10: Those Left Behind
Chapter 10: Those Left Behind

Then…

In. Out. In. Out. Loop. Press down. In. Out.

Hana's hands moved without her as they continued to sew another chūnin jacket. At times like these, she considered the Iron Nerve to be both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, the tedium of having to work at the correct stitching every single time, and of constantly watching out for errors, had to be maddening. She didn't know how the civilian workers in Supplies managed it. On the other hand, once she'd worked out the perfect pattern for the task, plus the corrective ones for the types of mistake she still made, the manual labour hardly engaged her mind at all. Which left her plenty of time to worry about Hazō, and how he was getting on with his first major mission. Was this how it had been for her mother the first time Hana had gone out and risked not coming back?​

Hana looked down, and deliberately focused her gaze on her hands. The chūnin jackets were a mediocre but consistent source of side income, supplementing her mission pay and helping to keep the bills from soaring out of control. There was always a grey market for such supplies, frequently used by ninja who'd lost mission gear through bad luck or poor management, and didn't want the fact to be noted on their requisition records. Certain clerks in the lower echelons of the Mizukage's Office ruled their tiny domains with an iron fist, and could interpret such patterns as promotion-inhibiting incompetence at best, or as selling military-issued gear in the black market at worst. The latter was seen as an act of sabotage, and the lives of convicted saboteurs (or "saboteurs") were invariably short and horrific.

What mattered for Hana was that producing surplus gear and selling it to loyal ninja was not illegal as such, though she'd probably be in some sort of trouble if she were caught by the authorities. It wasn't her best option, but for the last several days, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, and that took certain more lucrative and less legal activities off the table.

Knock. Knock.

Ominous timing, given where her thoughts had been wandering. In another flawlessly practised movement, Hana slid the unfinished jacket into a drawer of her table and threw the sewing supplies into the nearby storage chest, then rose to open the door.

Standardised uniforms. Patterned masks. Oh, shit.
-o-
Tap. Tap. Tap.

The light nearly blinded Hana, while keeping the interrogator submerged in shadow. It was one of those clichés that existed because it worked. She could hear her own heartbeat, feel every second grate against her nerves as if she were eye to eye with a predator and her sense of time was being slowed by adrenaline.

There was just one thing she could see, right on the edge of the desk, reaching out from the darkness. A hand, an old person's hand, covered in fine black swirls that could have been tattoos or seals. Its index finger kept tapping on the table at irregular intervals, and running a nail across the wood in brief scratches, drawing her attention whenever she felt close to regaining her centre.

"Kurosawa Hana." The voice was androgynous, and too young for that hand. "You will answer a series of questions. You will volunteer all related information, making no judgement as to its relevance. Your degree of cooperation will be assessed, and if it is considered insufficient, you will be passed on to our sister branch for processing."
Tap. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. As if peeling away the layers.

"You will provide a full character description of your son Kurosawa Hazō, together with any formative experiences you consider to have had an influence on his personality."

Hazō? This was about Hazō? Not about the many things she'd done in order to keep the family fed these past few years? For an instant, Hana sagged as the wave of relief passed through her. Then she jerked back upright.

T&I. Was asking questions. About her son.

"Please, what is this about? Did something happen to him?" The words came out before Hana realised that here and now there was no hope of getting an answer.

"You will not ask questions except for the purpose of clarification. Depending on your degree of cooperation, certain information may be provided at the end of this interview. Now, you will describe Kurosawa Hazō's character in as much detail as you are able."

She obeyed. There was no danger there. Hazō's few acts of "insubordination" were already on record, and, in every way that mattered, he was a good boy. Hana was not afraid to tell the interrogator as much.

A scratch, as if drawing a line under the topic.

"You will list any instances of interaction between Kurosawa Hazō and the following individuals: Gorō Dan, commonly known by the alias of 'Shikigami', Inoue Mari, Kanna Michiko, Ozawa Shintarō…"

A chill went down Hana's spine. She didn't know everyone who'd gone on Hazō's mission, but every name the interrogator mentioned was on that list.

Inoue Mari's name leapt out at her in particular. Hazō had complained about her any number of times, and about how she constantly teased him and ruffled his hair during her visits to see Hazō's team leader. It didn't sound like dangerous information, but if any of those people had committed crimes, and Hazō was being suspected as an accomplice…

Would mentioning Inoue get Hazō in trouble? Or did ANBU already know? What if this was a test of her reliability as a source of information? The Department of Interrogation only had one sister branch.

She couldn't think, not with the light in her eyes, not with her heart beating in her ears, and not with that horrible, sinister hand as the only thing she could see. All she could do was try to get this over with as soon as possible. Hazō was innocent. If ANBU wanted truth, that was what they would learn. If they didn't, then nothing she could say would help.

Tap. A slow scratch, laden with meaning she could not begin to imagine. Tap. Tap.

More questions. Academic history. Special skills. Things they had to know already. Hazō's private descriptions of his missions. His memories of his father. A series of regular verbal blows, like a blacksmith shaping metal, until all Hana could do was answer as if by rote.

Then, finally, release. Seconds, or minutes, or hours, passing in a silence in which even the formerly hash glare of the light no longer registered to Hana's senses.

"Your son abandoned his mission alongside a number of other shinobi. He has been declared a missing-nin, with all the consequences thereof. He will be found, and if he chooses to resist arrest, he will be summarily executed."

The words took a second to reach Hana's consciousness. Then it took all her remaining will not to leap out of the chair—an act that would probably have got her killed instantly.

"You will be aware that when a missing-nin is returned to Hidden Mist, they are brought to stand trial. The standard sentence for treason is public execution, one to five of the Circles of the Bloody Mist depending on the severity of the crime."

Hana was left alone with that thought for some unknown period of time, as the presence across the desk retreated from her conscious awareness.

"However,"—Hana flinched—"a small proportion of missing-nin receive the Mizukage's pardon, should it be judged that their abandonment of Hidden Mist was forced by circumstances beyond their control. The odds increase for those capable of atoning through great contribution to the village, such as Bloodline Limit holders.

"Should Kurosawa Hazō contact you, you will report this to the duty officer at the ANBU Central Office immediately. You will also make every effort to persuade him to return to Hidden Mist voluntarily. You will understand that this is his only chance of survival.

"You will now be escorted to your home. You will keep the contents of this interview confidential. Should you fail to follow any of these instructions, you will be designated uncooperative."

A distant voice, addressing someone else, somewhere else. "You will provide physical assistance to Kurosawa Hana so that she may rise from her seat and leave this office."
-o-​

Now…

Kurohige's Bar was nearly as old as Mist itself. It dated back to when the man who would become the First Mizukage broke the ninja clans comprising Kurohige Ranmaru's fleet, and gave them the choice between a longer journey to Hidden Mist to swear eternal allegiance, and a shorter journey to the bottom of the ocean. In a characteristic act of pragmatism, the First Mizukage took a crippled Kurohige on as Naval Warfare Advisor, and used his knowledge to dominate the pirates then controlling significant portions of the Water Country.

Kurohige coincidentally retired shortly before the Second Mizukage's inauguration, and ended up opening a bar for a very specific clientele. Now, many decades and descendants later, Kurohige's remained the go-to place for jōnin who had seen too much, or lost too many, and wanted nothing more than a few hours away from the loud naivety of the young and the intolerable pity of the not yet old.

"It was disgusting, Shion. He could have had that swamp wrapped around his little finger with one technique, and instead he just stood back and looked to see if anyone was trying to flee. And us? It was a nightmare. Michizane was taking point. One second, empty patch of mud. The next, he steps down and spikes two feet long shoot up through his leg. He screams, falls into the water – snap! Nothing left. We never even saw the gator leave afterwards.

"And that was just the first trap. Iga spots this explosive shrapnel ball along the path, so naturally he takes the safe way round. There's a bush in the way. He walks past it, bam! It shoots out these pseudopod thingies, and before you know it, they've turned bright red and he's paler than Tsukamoto trying to settle his tab at the end of the month. I don't need to tell you what that meant.

"And you know, I'm like ninety percent sure the Toad Sage had a Hyūga with him. Don't tell me he couldn't have spotted any of that.

"Anyway, wouldn't have helped us much with the fighting, once what was left of us got to their hideout. Shikigami was as bad as the rumours say. Water clones everywhere, and it turns out those famous paper arts of his are cheap enough that even a clone can do them. And when Captain Zabuza finally pinned down the original? Bastard brought down half the cave on top of him. And guess who had to keep Shikigami and that Kanna woman busy while the captain dug himself out? It was like a taste of my own personal hell. We lost most of the chūnin just during that minute. It was… pathetic, and pointless.

"I tell you this, Shion. if I get assigned to hunt missing-nin again, I'd rather just slash my own foot open and get sent to the hospital. I don't want to… shit, Shion, I just don't want to… ever again…"

The words shocked Hana, at the next table over, out of her stupor.

"Did you say 'missing-nin'?"

The jōnin looked up from her drink. "Oh. Oh, shit, Hana, I didn't even think…"

"Was he there?" Hana's expression, and the edge in her voice, sobered the other jōnin up immediately.

The woman seemed to struggle with herself for a few seconds. "Yeah. Yeah, that was your son's group. Shikigami wouldn't tell us anything, no matter what Captain Zabuza did, but not everyone was so tough. They said he's missing, presumed dead, from before we got to them. I'm so sorry, Hana."​
 
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Chapter 11: The Iron Escorts

"Not bad," Mari said. "Your initial plan sucked, but after I gave you that infodump you really turned it around and came up with something good. Okay, let's get started."

Kurosawa, Wakahisa, and Mori all exchanged surprised looks. That was a much more positive response than they'd expected.

"What? You were expecting a lecture?" Mari said in amusement. "If you thought I wasn't going to like your plan, why did you propose it?"

"It...was the best we could come up with?" Mori said. "We lacked essential knowledge, and I registered so many failure modes but I lacked the information to prevent them, and if they are not prevented then the plan will fail and we could all die but we lacked knowledge and I kept seeking answers but—"

"Aaaaand, we're breathing," Mari said. "We are exhaling stress and panic." She blew out an exaggerated breath. "We are inhaling calm and relaxation." She drew in an equally exaggerated breath. "And, exhaling...and inhaling...good. Now. Yes, you did not have enough information. That's how it's going to be basically all the time in the real world. Having enough time to create a good plan, having enough information to create a good plan...those are schoolroom things. They rarely happen out in the field, so you need to learn to do the best planning you can and then adjust on the fly. That said, let's talk about it.

"Iron is a reasonable place to go," she said. "Obviously, there's nowhere that's good to go when you're a missing-nin...that's kinda the point. If there were, then all the missing-nin would go there, so all the hunter-nin would go there, so it it would be a bad place to go. Anyway, there's no ninja village in Iron, so there's no organized competition. Without an organized ninja presence there will be a lot more demand for our services...especially since they probably don't see many jōnin-led heavy combat teams."

She paused, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement as she waited for the question.

None of the genin wanted to be the one to admit ignorance, but Wakahisa broke first. "Why not, Sensei?" he said. "Wouldn't heavy combat teams be more likely to survive whatever they come up against?"

Mari smiled in satisfaction. "Nope," she said. "Heavy combat teams have the lowest survival rates of any team composition. Scout teams optimize for speed and awareness. They see threats coming and they outrun them. Infiltration teams are optimized first for not being detected and second for escaping. Etc. for other team types. Heavy combat teams, on the other hand...well, they're all about the Righteous Face Punching. Find a threat, run up and punch it in the face. Sooner or later, they run up against a threat that can tank the punch and punch back harder, and then the heavy combat team gets wiped. But hey, don't worry--I'm sure you guys will be the ones who beat the odds and survive to your thirteenth birthday!"

All three genin were starting to look a little green.

"Relax," she said. "I'm just screwing with you."

Wakahisa's sigh of relief was audible.

"Well, sorta," Mari said. "It's true that heavy combat teams have the highest mortality rates, but experience makes a huge difference--it's mostly new genin who get it in the neck, and you guys have a little salt on you. Don't die for another six months and you've got a decent shot at making jōnin. The second jump in mortality comes when you're a new-minted jōnin, because people get there and, first, they start thinking that they're all billy badass and, second, they start getting bigger and badder missions. Anyway, if you survive for another six months your odds of surviving five years are pretty good."

She frowned. "Now, as it happens, I'm pretty motivated to see you guys not get dead too soon, since without you I'd have to cook my own dinner. Best thing I can do on that front is to give you a slightly wider skillset.

"Anyway, yes, Iron is a good choice. Dealing with villagers is also good; it's a way to get you three some infiltration training without too much risk."

She paused, scraping the last of the beans out of her bowl and savoring them. She licked the spoon clean, then set the bowl down with a sigh.

"I'm going to bed," she said. "I'll leave you three to the washing up, and then you'll need to stand watches. In the morning we'll be heading out for Iron. G'night!" She turned and vanished into the shelter she'd built.

The genin exchanged worried looks and then started cleaning up from dinner.


o-o-o-o​

Sneaking out of Fire was an interesting experience. When the group had come in they'd had over thirty ninja, most of them fresh genin; there had been no way to completely hide their tracks, so they'd mostly focused on speed. The falconer had kept his bird in the air as a forward scout and one of the jōnin had lagged behind to cover their trail as well as possible, but they'd still been making good time.

Inoue-sensei, on the other hand, was more interested in stealth and misdirection than speed. They stuck to the treetops wherever they could. When they had to travel on the ground they waterwalked; it didn't prevent them from leaving tracks but it did lower the ground pressure, thereby making the tracks fainter. Inoue would occasionally stop and be completely still and silent for up to ten minutes at a time; the genin were never quite sure what she was searching for or how she was doing it, but they stayed quiet and tried not to distract her.

When she wasn't practicing being a statue, Inoue would give them lessons without warning.

"Ten minutes ago we passed a tree with a patch of white moss on it. How many branches were on the tree below ten feet?"

"How many birds were in that flock? What kind of bird? One of them was missing feathers on its breast--what position was it in the formation?"

"All of you Transform. Kurosawa: six-year-old girl from a farm family, dressed for school. Wakahisa, small-town grandmother going to market. Mori: left-handed male carpenter's apprentice. Ancestors, all of you are awful. Try again. No, still awful. Oh, come on, Kurosawa—girls don't walk like that! Wakahisa, not every grandmother has palsy! Mori...ugh. Don't get me started."

"'Hello, little girl, I see you're going to school. What's your favorite class?' ... Oh my gods, Kurosawa, just because you're a little girl doesn't mean you have to make puppy-dog eyes! Try it again. Really? That's what you're going with? You're supposed to be six! Do you honestly think that would be a six-year-old farm girl's favorite class?!"

The entire experience was nerve-wracking.

Nerve-wracking or not, they reached Iron without meeting anyone and without Inoue-sensei actually carrying through on any of her histrionic promises to give up and drown herself because there was no point in training such hopeless students. (Although Hazō noticed that she was just as quick with the praise as with the sarcasm, so none of them ended up actually in tears.)

By the time they crossed the border it was after nightfall, so they slept in the trees. Inoue-sensei had rope and a half-dozen nets in one of her storage scrolls; they made very serviceable hammocks. Still, they were careful to have someone on watch.

The genin shot for it to see who got first choice of watch schedule; Hazō lost and ended up on second shift. Second was always the worst because you slept for not-enough hours, then woke up and stood watch while struggling to be fully aware, then slept for not-enough hours, then got up and had a full day ahead. He was perched on a branch, pinching himself to stay awake when...

rolz.org said:
Hazō, Awareness:
sum 5 1D100 => 13 ; 19 ; 12 ; 5 ; 85 ; total=134

Chakra snake, Stealth:
sum 3 1D100 => 96 ; 53 ; 64 ; total=213

Inoue-sensei, Awareness:
sum 18 1D100 => 49 ; 31 ; 27 ; 24 ; 2 ; 33 ; 43 ; 77 ; 55 ; 77 ; 31 ; 34 ; 91 ; 71 ; 52 ; 59 ; 40 ; 17 ; total=813

...he heard the sfft, tunk! of a thrown kunai slamming into flesh just above his head. A shower of blood soaked his back; a moment later sixty pounds of beheaded snake that had been lowering itself from above fell on him before sliding off the branch and smacking into the ground below.

"For future reference," Inoue-sensei said drily. "Being on watch means you're supposed to see the threats before they bite you. Good thing I decided not to actually sleep. C'mon, the blood and the carcass will attract scavengers. Give me your shirt and let's get out of here." She vanished his bloody shirt into a storage seal and ninety seconds later the group was awake and on the move.


o-o-o-o​

Two days later they'd found a good campsite in the canopy of a giant oak. The tree's roots were moderately mobile, and had choked out all the surrounding trees, leaving a clearing in the immediate area. At the base of the tree was a den of several dozen chakra-enhanced weasels. They were the size of small dogs and their fur could release a blast of Lightning energy to stun their prey; nothing else in the area seemed to want to tangle with them, but they weren't able to climb, so the ninja could jump over the clearing in order to safely reach the tree. With the weasels as perimeter defense they were relatively safe, although Inoue still slept lightly.

The first day was taken up getting established, training, and scouting. The morning of the second was more training, and in the afternoon Inoue-sensei judged them ready to try out their technique for real.

"Kurosawa, Transform up to early twenties," she said. "You're taking lead—you're Yamada Taro, the jōnin leader of this team. I'm Fujihara Hanako, one of your genin. Your goal is to ingratiate us with the villagers and get us a paying job." She glanced to the side and laughed. "Put the jealousy away, Wakahisa. You'll get your turn. You and Keiko are each going to take lead on contact with the next couple towns."

Hazō did everything he could to keep his face calm but it must not have worked. Inoue-sensei reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, kid," she said seriously. "Take a breath. You can do this, I promise. It's a tiny village in the middle of bloody nowhere. The stakes are about as low as they get. There's zero threat here; if it doesn't work we can retreat, no harm done. These people might not want to work with a particular ninja, but they sure aren't going to do anything to piss one off...such as, by way of example, ratting him out. They'll know that we could wipe out their pissant little village before breakfast, if we were of a mind. Just sound confident, be respectful, and you'll knock their socks off."

Hazō nodded, swallowed the lump in his throat, and led the way into the cluster of twenty-odd small huts on the shore of the lake.

Half a dozen fishing boats were out on the water, pulling in the catch for the day. It was a nice day and most everyone was outside--hanging wash, mending fishing nets, preparing food, or doing the thousand and one other small tasks that made up the fabric of village life.

With no way of knowing what the social hierarchy was, Hazō just went up to the first person he saw. She was a brown-haired woman, her youth well in the past but old age still up ahead. There was a sewing basket next to her, but she had taken a break to smoke a pipe and pick at some chicken and noodles.

"Excuse me," Hazō said in the deep and most-definitely-a-grownup voice of his disguised form. "My team and I are passing through; we're experienced escorts and we thought we would see if anyone needed to travel."

The woman eyed him up and down. "We see very few ninja here, master shinobi," she said after a moment. "May I ask how long you expect to be in the area?"

Hazō frowned. "I didn't say we were shinobi," he said. "What makes you assume we are?"

The woman looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. "There are four of you, one adult and three younglings. The young ones follow behind you in a group, keeping their eyes turned out. You walk like the walls better get out of your way. You carry pouches at exactly the spot one would reach for a weapon, and those pouches are full of long heavy things that are probably kunai. Finally, there are only four of you and you just walked out of the forest."

"Ah," Hazō said. "Yes. Well, you are correct, ma'am. I am...

rolz.org said:
Hazō, Deception:
sum 2 1D100 => 33 ; 18 ; total=51

Mariko, Awareness:
sum 2 1D100 => 37 ; 61 ; total=98

"...Yamada Taro, jōnin leader of this team. We have meat and steelback bristles for trade, and would be interested in paying work if there's any to be had."

"Mm-hm," the old woman said. "I see. Well, I'm Tanaka Mariko. Could I see your meat, please?" Yellow teeth flashed as her face split in a wide grin. "Oh, it's been years since I said that to a handsome young man!" She cackled and tipped him a wink.

Flustered, Hazō pulled out the storage scroll and unsealed it, removing a few of the steaks they'd cut from the steelback.

"Top quality, as you can see," he said, fighting down a blush.

"Hmmmm...not bad," she said. "Not bad. I would trade you one of the steaks for information, so long as you promise not to hurt me if you don't like the information."

"What sort of information?" Hazō said guardedly.

She snorted. "Now, master shinobi, if I told you the information then I couldn't trade it, could I? Suffice to say, it's something that will help you in future trading. I'll also point you to some good-paying work."

Hazō rubbed his chin. It seemed harmless enough; it wasn't like one steak was much compared to the amount they had, and it was easy enough to get more. "All right," he said. "One steak, and I agree not to hurt you. Now, what's this information?"

Mariko selected the steak and set it aside, wrapping it in a rag from her sewing basket.

"First of all," she said. "Most people know that ninja can change shape, and we know that any ninja who turns up in a podunk town like ours is likely to be a missing-nin, so we're always going to be looking close, trying to tell if he's going to kill us all. Master shinobi, you walk like a dangerous man, but you act like a teenager—you blush at a raunchy old woman's joke, and you hesitate when you bargain. My suspicion is that you're another genin—" She saw his expression of dismay and raised her hands placatingly. "Not that it matters," she said. "No villager in the world is going to care who or what you are as long as you actually have ninja skills and you're willing to deal instead of rob. We don't have much, but we're happy to do business with any ninja who comes through. Kami knows, there's always plenty of work for shinobi."

Hazō was blushing furiously; to conceal it he wrapped an illusion-disguise around his physical disguise, making his face seem calm and undisturbed.

"Thank you for your instruction, Miss," he said with a deep bow. "May I ask what sort of work you have?"

She rubbed her chin and took another draw on her pipe. "Well, there's some waterbugs that have been causing problems for the fisherman--they got Lil' Genzo last week. We'd pay to get rid of those. Our potter needs more clay; there's a good deposit of it not too far from here, but it's a three-hour trip by six men when you need to guard yourself in the forest. With you lot as guards, it probably wouldn't take more than twenty minutes to get there, and they'd be able to bring back a lot more clay if you're willing to carry, or if you've got some of those magic scrolls.

"Let's see, what else? Food's always a big one. We'd pay for anything you wanted to hunt up. We'd pay more if it was one of the dangerous things. We'd like better defenses around the town; I know a lot of your type have ninjutsu that let you move dirt around, make walls, that sort of thing. The whole town would pay for that. If we had the defenses we could expand the fields a bit; we'd need to bring in more water to irrigate, though. If you're willing to take people through the forest we could organize a trade trip down to Yuni. Do you have any of those magic scrolls? If you could use those for us, we could take a lot trade goods along, make more money for everyone."



XP Award:

+10 points: "Coming up with good plan that opens up lots of good story opportunities."
+1 point: "Plan did not involve genocide or gratuitous evil."




Vote time!

What job(s) do you want?

- Deal with the waterbugs that killed Lil' Genzo
- Hunt food
- Hunt anything dangerous in the forest
- Build defenses
- Caravan guards!
- The clay job

Writeins accepted

Voting closes 12pm UTC Wednesday 2016-01-20

EDIT: Added 'The clay job', which I had forgotten.
EDIT #2: Yay, XP!
 
Last edited:
Chapter 12, Part 1: Settling In

"I think I may have spotted a flaw in my cunning plan," Inoue-sensei commented as she examined the package delivered by the villagers as a reward for the clay-obtaining mission. The grateful villagers had rewarded the group with exactly four sets of fresh clothes – ones which perfectly fit Hazō, Wakahisa, Mori, and Inoue-sensei's teenage girl disguise.

"Normally I'd always have a cache with a change of clothes around when infiltrating as a kid," Inoue-sensei lamented. "Though I'd rather not infiltrate as a kid at all. In the long term, it's way more of a pain than acting as an adult woman—or man—and then you'd better hope it's not a seduction mission. There aren't enough baths in the world to feel clean after one of those."

The three genin shuddered, and did their best not to think about this.

"But forget that!" Inoue-sensei flicked her hands in the air as if shooing away an unpleasant thought. "I've been every kind of seamstress on my missions. Get me some extra cloth and I'm sure I can figure something out. In the meantime, you guys are going to cheer me up by impressing me with the vast amount of information you doubtless acquired while I was busy."
-o-
"Ninja?" The fishmonger asked with a wry smile as he carved up another piece of disturbingly purple meat. "We don't really see no ninja from one year to the next, and it's rarer than that for them to actually help out like you're doing, Heavens bless. 'course, what we do see from time to time is travellers coming in on their own from the wilderness without a scratch on 'em, all mysterious-like, and turning up their noses at everything they see. So, y'know, never hurts to be polite when someone is passing through. Now, since you're here 'n all, how about some bilecarp? Freshest catch, and I'll even give you an extra measure since you helped out my cousin."

Hazō studied the… thing in front of him. Its dead eye gazed balefully at him, as if to say, "Your stomach versus my flesh, one round, winner takes all."

"Th-Thank you, sir. Maybe another time."
-o-
"That's mighty kind of you, lass, but we don't need no opti-sation round here. We use good old-fashioned cow dung instead. Plough the soil, plant the seeds, season later we harvest. Gotta rotate what stuff you plant on each field each year, else the soil will go bad. Hard work the lot of it, even for a good iron-arm like meself, but we get paid back in full once reaping season rolls round. You stick around 'til then, you'll see it all. The stuffy old chief starts speechifying about how we've made it through another year, and giving thanks to the forefathers, and then right before everyone falls asleep, he finally shuts up and we get on with the music, and the dancing, and a great many fun things that you're too young to hear about."
-o-
"Currency? Ha. You're daft if you think anyone'll take Iron ryō, boy. No, we use hard Leaf ryō 'round here. National pride's for the soft men down south, not for honest folk as has to eke out a living however they can.

"Not that we see much trade in a little village like this, y'understand, roads being what they are. But once a year or so, the Baikan Caravan rolls by and we sell some pots, hides, dragonfly stings or deep biter scales or what have you, and buy ore and coal, maybe a few luxuries. If we're lucky, maybe another caravan will turn up later, but only a fishbrain counts on luck.

"Anyway, easier to do trade in kind out here: a stack of ryō ain't much good to you when the snows pile high, but a good trading fur, on the other hand... You bear that in mind if you want to go trading with those snooty Rachiganians up north, or the drunkards in Mina over past the hills to the east.

"The wildlife? Oh, it's not so bad. We're one of the safer regions. The drop-bunnies are no threat, they just burrow themselves into the earth soon as they smell a threat. Now the big dragonflies, they're more serious. You breathe in that green powder they shed, all your muscles seize up, and then they carry bits of you off into the treetops just like that. So if you don't want to end up with a bunch of eggs laid in you, you hold your breath and you run when you hear the buzzing.

"Oh, and then there's the black hunter in the woods, but no one rightly knows what that thing is. You go into the woods, you be careful, and you watch for the eyes glinting in the shadows. And of course there are the waterbugs what got poor Genzō. I told him not to go fishing on the northern side, I told him, but would he listen? When the lake water glints, the wise fisherman sprints. Children know that one.

"Say, boy," the healer's eyes narrowed as she moved onto a different train of thought, "I've got a daughter 'round your age. Lovely blonde hair, eyes you could lose yourself in, all her own teeth… Now I know you're a mite young, but we're practical folk round here. What say I introduce you two?"

Kurosawa, whose dating experience clearly consisted of some combination of zero, zip, zilch and naught, was at a loss for words. Fortunately, Noburi was quick to come to the rescue in his own inimitable fashion.

"Oh, don't worry about him, ma'am. He's not into girls that way."

The healer gave Kurosawa a funny look. Keeping his face perfectly straight, Kurosawa flashed some brief hand signs under the table to Noburi. You. Certain death. Imminent.

Unfortunately, karmic justice was restored instantly. "Oh, dearie me. Well, I suppose you'll do just as well, kid." The woman raised her voice. "Ayako, will you come over here?"

Mori's appalled face flashed across Noburi's mind.

"I'm sorry my mission told me I have to sharpen my instructor before the next kunai I have to go now!"

As Noburi fled, he could hear Kurosawa stammering something incoherent before joining Noburi at maximum ninja speed.​

-o-​

Granny Yoshino fixed her good eye on the three visitors, and took another long draw from her pipe.

"Ah, you'll be the children everyone's been making such a fuss about. But I have no requests for you. No, I'm quite happy as I am, thank you," she said, letting loose an unhealthy-sounding rattling cough.

"We were told that you were, um, the village's best storyteller," Hazō said. "We were hoping to hear about the history of the Country of Iron."

Granny Yoshino raised her eyebrows. "Well, now. Curiosity's a fine thing in the young. Take a seat—mind the cat—and I will tell you the story as it was told to me by my mother, and to her by her mother, and to her by Old Man Kanda who always thought he knew everything."

Her voice took on a melodic, ritualised quality, ruined only by the occasional cough.

"The Land of Iron is harsh, but fair. To those who do nothing, she gives nothing, but to those who bend their backs in worship, she once gave all the riches of the earth.

"In time, those riches attracted the eyes of the cursed shinobi, who cannot see a thing without desiring it, and cannot desire a thing without at once taking it by force. For countless generations, we lived under their thrall, our daimyo nothing but a helpless puppet, all that was best in our land sent to the clans of the south as tribute to line their pockets.

"But one day he was born. Ashikage no Yōtarō, the Liberator. The Liberator was blessed by the Heavens with more of the magic called chakra than a dozen of the cursed shinobi, and he had a vision. Hidden away in the wastelands of the north, he devised a sword art that drew its strength from any man's chakra, be it as mighty as a storm or as feeble as a falling teardrop, so that no longer would all power be held by a few oppressors while the greater part of mankind suffered beneath their yoke.

"When the time was right, he came to seek disciples within each of the great cities. He told them that the way of the cursed shinobi was the way of spies, thieves and assassins, and preached of another way, a way for men of honour to serve their land. He taught all who wished it the art of the samurai, the honoured servant that carries out the will of the people. And when the cursed shinobi came to collect their due once more, the samurai cut them down like the dogs they were, and set their heads upon spears outside the great city of Konoma.

"But the armies of freedom were not ready. When next the cursed shinobi came, they came in force, an alliance of clans such as could not have been imagined in those early days. They slew the Liberator and hunted down every last one of his disciples. They burned all of the great cities to the ground to ensure that no trace of rebellion survived, and they placed cruel overseers so that we would never think to rise again.

"Now the Land of Iron is a shadow of what it once was. The cursed shinobi pillaged the land until there was nothing left, then left her for dead. But we know that the iron of our land is not only within the earth, but also within each of our hearts, and we await the prophesied time when the Liberator shall return to turn that iron into a warrior's steel."

Wakahisa said the first thing on his mind. "Aren't you afraid that the ninja will punish you for talking about them like that?"

Hazō tried to kick him in the ankle as subtly as possible. But Granny Yoshino didn't seem to think there was anything odd about the question.

"What could they take from us that they haven't taken already?" she said bitterly. "What have they got to fear now they've slain our warriors and broken our weapons? The only shinobi with any interest in us anymore are the missing-nin, and they are the enemy of our enemy."

She gave Hazō and the others a meaningful look, but said nothing more.​
 
Last edited:
Chapter 12, Part 2: The Black Hunter (and other horrible things)
Reminder: The team is undercover, with Hazō going by 'Yamada Taro'.




Chapter 12, Part 2: The Black Hunter (and other horrible things)


"Kami above and demons below, will you three stop wittering at me?!" Inoue-sensei asked, throwing her hands in the air. "Yes, yes, questions! Gah! Use your own common sense sometimes! Civilians don't know crap about ninjutsu beyond the most basic, so no matter what you throw they aren't going to recognize it. You don't want to throw them around just to show off, because doing so leaks information about your capabilities, but using them for a valid purpose is fine. If you take the attitude 'I must never use ninjutsu for fear of outing myself' then you're just crippling yourself. If you have that attitude it will make you hesitate when you actually need to use them, and increases your odds of ending up dead."

"But sensei, what if other ninja encounter us by chance and question—" Mori started.

"Yes, and what if my hair was made of green spinach?" Inoue-sensei snapped. She took a deep breath and visibly made herself calm down. "Look, Mori, I get it: you're nervous because you're not used to being missing-nin. That's sensible, but you can take it too far. There's really very little difference between being a missing-nin and being on a long-term assignment in enemy territory: there are enemy ninja who want to kill you and your information is available in the bingo books. As a missing-nin some of those enemy ninja are from your own village, but that doesn't really change the overall situation. Don't use ninjutsu gratuitously, but use whatever you need to use when it makes sense to use it. The one exception is that once you start to acquire a reputation you want to think about how you use your signature moves. For example, if you come across the aftermath of a ninja battle and there are some giant-toad footprints, most likely Jiraiya of the Three was involved. That can be a thing you want to use sometimes, as a psychological weapon. On the other hand, sometimes you want to keep those moves hidden so as to conceal who you are. It's relative."

"But what about our bloodlines? Those are distinctive, and—"

"Yes, okay, fine," Inoue-sensei said. "That's true. But it's not as bad as it seems. Mori, your bloodline isn't visible--it just looks like you have common sense. Kurosawa, yours isn't visible either--it just looks like you have an especially good kinesthetic sense. Wakahisa, your barrel is unusual but it really just looks like an oversized canteen. Don't try impressing the girls with your stretchy whip—or with your Water Whip Technique—and you'll be fine."

"Thank you, sensei," Hazō said. "May I ask just one more question and then I'll let it go?"

Inoue-sensei sighed. "Yes, fine. What is it?"

"Well, you said that you wanted us to use common sense. Isn't it sensible to check with our sensei as to whether what we think is correct actu—"

"Arggggghh!" Inoue-sensei said, flicking the contents of her soup mug at him.

Hazō quickly Substituted out of the way and vanished, laughing, into the village.

o-o-o-o-o​

"Look, there's a lake right there," Noburi said dismissively. "How hard could it be to dig a ditch with a gate?"

The villagers looked at each other. The look was complicated; the basis of it was a look that all three genin were uncomfortably familiar with from their time at the Academy: 'oh look, a genin who thinks he knows something, how cute, what an idiot'. The other was more along the lines of 'so…who wants to bell the cat?'

Finally one of the oldsters spoke up. "You are entirely correct about that, honorable ninja," he said, bowing deeply. "Digging the ditch and putting a gate on it is very easy; you are most wise. We would be very grateful for any insights you might offer on the design of the gate, however. I'm afraid that multiple generations of this village have failed to come up with a design that will admit water but keep out the poisonous jumping spinefish, the water bugs, the stingweed, or several other denizens of the lake. There is also one other small matter—insignificant for a ninja, I feel certain, but somewhat challenging for mere civilians: the land slopes up quite steeply from the lake shore, making it difficult to bring the water up. Until now we have diverted water from the river on the edge of the forest, but perhaps there is a better solution that will use the water in the lake. Could you please enlighten us?"

"Oh," said Noburi, blushing.

"I could have told you as much," Mori muttered quietly.

o-o-o-o-o​

"We don't typically use barrels here, I'm afraid," the potter said apologetically. He was in the middle of spinning clay on a treadle-operated wheel. He paused to dip water onto his hands in order to keep the clay moist. "There is a great deal of clay, but gathering substantial amounts of wood is dangerous for us."

"Oh," said Noburi, blushing.

"Fine. I did not see that one," Mori muttered quietly.

o-o-o-o-o​

"Nice workmanship," Mari said, studying the spearheads. "You do good work, Mr Fukio." She still wore her genin disguise and was careful not to sound too authoritative.

The smith bowed. "Thank you, honorable ninja," he said politely. An observer might have thought it odd how respectful the forty-something professional was to a twelve-year-old girl. Granted, it would have required the theoretical observer to have grown up under a rock and somehow never heard the word 'ninja', but it was theoretically possible.

Mari vanished the last of the dozen spearheads into her sealing scroll—the one scroll that she had allowed the villagers to see. "Yamada-sensei has decided we're going to hunt out the local wildlife in the forest," she said. "He said"—her voice dropped into the best approximation of Hazō's fake adult voice that a twelve-year-old girl could manage—"'It will make things safer for the village, put a lot of meat in the pot, give us some trade goods, and give you three idiots some combat experience.'" She flashed him an urchin grin and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Yamada-sensei has been dodging having a team assigned ever since he became a jōnin. He was most upset when our leader finally insisted."

The smith laughed. "When I was an apprentice, my master used to talk the same way to me, honorable ninja," he said. "I would like to believe that he would be proud of my skill today, and I have no doubts that Master Yamada will be just as proud of you."

"Thank you, Mr Fukio," Mari said with a bow. "What can you tell us about the local area? Is there anything in particular you'd like us to look for? Anything we shouldn't bother bringing in, or should definitely bring in?"

"Ah, well," said the smith, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "There's the waterbugs, of course, but those are in the lake and you already know about them. In the forest you've got the voles—they can tunnel through the ground almost as fast as I can walk, and they like to leap out at their prey, or collapse the ground under you to bring you down to them. One of them isn't too dangerous; they'll give you a nasty bite, but that's it. Unfortunately, they travel in packs. If you could make a point of cleaning them out it would be much appreciated. Then there's the mindbirds; they have some sort of genjutsu ability that will leave a man standing, staring and stupid, while they eat his eyes. Then there's the dire rabbits—careful with those ones, they've got a mean streak a mile wild and have a Lightning Element power that lets them become lightning for a moment—and the hedgehogs with the toxic spikes. Don't worry about those too much; the spikes only have a range of ten or twenty feet, and the 'hogs move slow. Oh, and of course there's the wolves."

Mari raised her eyebrows. "And what is their horrible power?" she asked.

The smith shrugged. "Nothing, they're just wolves. Not everything has horrible chakra powers, honorable ninja."

Mari chuckled. "You caught me, Mr Fukio," she said. "Anything else?"

"Well, there's the black hunter," Fukio said. "No one knows what it is; sometimes people have seen a flicker of movement in the woods, but that's it. Those that turns around and run the other way usually make it out alive as long as they drop whatever they're carrying. Those that do anything else generally don't come back."

"Ah," Mari said. "Well, that sounds like fun. Thank you, Mr Fukio, I very much appreciate the briefing."

"You are most welcome, honorable ninja," he said. "Please; whatever you want from my stock, take it. I cannot describe how grateful we are to your team; if there is anything I can make for you, I would be happy to."

Mari bowed. "You are most generous, sir," she said. "I will talk with my team." She gave him a final smile before departing.

o-o-o-o-o​

Wakahisa walked carefully around the edge of the lake, stepping carefully across the still surface of the water. Blood leaked from the soles of his feet, drifting into the the lake in curls. The water…

"rolz.org" said:
Wakahisa, Awareness:
total=91

Waterbugs, Stealth:
total=155

...erupted in a flash of light that turned the surface of the lake into a circle of dazzling rainbows for yards around. The patterns shifted and shimmered beneath him; he ignored it, continuing to pace forward across the surface, until the giant insect rose up behind him and pounced on his back, chelicerae scissoring closed in a powerful bite that snipped his head neatly off.

At which point Wakahisa collapsed in a puddle of water, leaving a very surprised lake monster tumbling down.

It hadn't even reached the surface when a storm of ninja-wired weaponry and a lash of water came flying from a clump of reeds on the shore...

"rolz.org" said:
Mori, Weapons:
total=229

Wakahisa, Water Whip:
total=179

Waterbugs, Combat:
total=77

...and utterly obliterated the creature.

"Mine!" crowed Wakahisa.

"My kunai arrived first," Mori said, calmly pulling in the ninja-wire to retrieve her kunai. "Therefore, credit for this kill is mine."

"No way!" Wakahisa said. "I totally smashed it! Your kunai just stabbed it a little. And anyway, I hit first."

"Sensei?" Hazō asked.

"Decision to Wakahisa," Inoue-sensei said with a smile. "The kunai hit first and probably would have done it, but the water whip was there only a fraction of a second later. It landed before the creature would have died and made absolutely certain."

"Yes!" Wakahisa shouted, pumping his arm...only to stop with an abashed look as Mori glared at him and then stalked off around the lake, kunai in hand and a murderous glint in her eye.

Inoue-sensei chuckled. "You're losing three to two, and I think she's going to be a little more certain with the next one," she said. "You'll need to step up your game, kid."

Hazō looked at the sun and sighed. As a close-combat specialist, hunting the lake monsters was remarkably boring for him. Ah well, at least he could tease Wakahisa.

"Don't worry, Wakahisa, my man," he said with a smile and a pat on the shoulder. "At least your drain lets you spot them for us. Well, sort of. I mean, when you aren't just noticing large patches of kelp. I'm sure that was only a one-time thing, though. I mean, it's a little unusual to be having performance issues at your age, but I'm sure it's not a hint of future trouble."

"Piss off," Wakahisa grumbled, setting off after Mori.

o-o-o-o-o​

"Problem solved, folks," Noburi said, dumping the half-dozen water bug shells in a pile. "We killed a lot more than this, but most of them the water was too deep for us to get the shell back." He puffed out his chest and gestured to himself with one thumb. "No match for a ninja, after all!"

"Thank you, honorable ninja," Mariko said, bowing. "This is tremendously helpful. I've made some prawns and noodles with fish eggs; may I offer you some?"

o-o-o-o-o​

Hazō was on point with kunai in each hand; Wakahisa took slack with his water whip already deployed. Mori was third, in the most protected position, and Inoue-sensei rode drag. Their sensei looked altogether too amused for Hazō's comfort; the genin's hair had been on metaphoric end for the past ten minutes as he stretched his every sense, looking for the slightest threat before advancing one more cautious step into the forest. He eased around a tree, glancing up to make sure there was no horrible eyeball-eating monster in the branches, and…

"rolz.org" said:
Hazō, Awareness:
sum 5 1D100 => 17 ; 10 ; 64 ; 28 ; 43 ; total=162

Chakra votes, Stealth:
sum 8 1D100 => 59 ; 90 ; 11 ; 41 ; 89 ; 25 ; 16 ; 33 ; total=364

"rolz.org" said:
Hazō, Taijutsu, surprise round:
sum 6 1D100 => 60 ; 7 ; 2 ; 36 ; 24 ; 71 ; total=200

Chakra Voles, Close combat (4 + 3 challenge dice due to surprise and terrain advantage)
sum 7 1D100 => 8 ; 81 ; 22 ; 60 ; 2 ; 40 ; 82 ; total=295

…screamed shrilly when the ground collapsed under him, dropping him up to his thighs in the earth. Before he could react, chisel-like teeth were ripping chunks out of his calves and thighs.

"rolz.org" said:
Hazō, Taijutsu, rest of the fight:
sum 6 1D100 => 31 ; 18 ; 41 ; 71 ; 9 ; 24 ; total=194

Chakra Voles, Close combat (4)
sum 4 1D100 => 3 ; 28 ; 95 ; 5 ; total=131

Chakra surged into his legs, propelling him on a gibbering four-meter leap straight up. One of the voles was latched on hard enough that it came with him, but it was dead by the time Hazō landed, having been stabbed in the head nine or ten panic-filled times.

The voles came boiling up out of the earth, chittering and squeaking in fury at being deprived of their meal. A furious (and, frankly, still recovering from being terrified) Hazō danced through the middle of their ranks, kunai flashing with Iron Nerve precision. From behind him came a hail of kunai and senbon from Mori and a cracking Water Whip from Wakahisa. The voles were dead in seconds.

"Agh!" Hazō said, kicking one of the corpses so hard it bounced off a tree twenty feet away. "Damnit!"

"Let me see," Inoue-sensei said, moving forward. She cut the legs of his trousers open with two precise flicks of a kunai so that she could see the wounds.

She studied them for a moment with a grim expression, then looked him dead in the eye. "Hazō...I'm sorry. I'm afraid you're going to die."

Hazō went pale. Behind him, Mori and Wakahisa caught their breath.

"D-die?" he said, cursing himself for the way his voices caught on the word.

Inoue-sensei nodded. "Yep." She paused. "It's going to be slow, too...probably somewhere between ten and fifty years. Depends on how good a ninja you become after you heal from this."

Hazō stared at her, mouth hanging open. "You—! Agh!" He shook both fists threateningly but knew better than to actually try to belt her, the way he would have if one of his teammates had played the same trick.

Inoue-sensei laughed. "Don't worry, kid, you'll be fine. Stiff and sore and you're going to have some sexy scars to show the girls, but you'll be fine. It's going to slow you down some, though, so be careful. Oh, and, a tip? Tell the girls that you got the scars defending a young woman you were escorting. Chicks dig scars, but honorable and protective ninja are like catnip." She tipped him a bawdy wink and pulled out a basic medkit.

o-o-o-o-o​

Being on point while wounded was miserable according to Hazō, but 'good training' according to Inoue-sensei. Unfortunately, since Inoue-sensei assigned march order, Hazō remained on point despite his wounds. It hurt to walk, it hurt to sit, it hurt to do basically anything. As the day wore on he began to fancy himself something of a connoisseur of the pain and the subtlety of its many shades. There was the constant dull ache with which his body urged him to be more careful in the future. There was the sharp tearing pain that reminded him not to stretch his right leg too far or he'd tear his sutures. There was the mind-blanking shriek of pain when he put any weight on the carefully-bandaged divot in his left heel.

Inoue-sensei had been very clear: yes, she'd seen the attack coming and yes, she had deliberately let him walk into it because she'd judged it unlikely to be fatal. He took the lesson to heart, advancing slowly and carefully. If anything even remotely tweaked his awareness he would stop and survey the surroundings until he knew what it was. The extra care let the team shoot two mindbirds out of the trees before getting close enough for the birds' mind-spell to affect them.

The sun was halfway down the sky, the afternoon shadows getting long, when…

"rolz.org" said:
Something
total=881

Hazō, Awareness:
total=336

Wakahisa, Awareness:
total=176

Mori, Awareness:
total=251

Inoue-sensei, Awareness
total=1016

"Get back!" Inoue-sensei shouted, flickering forward past the team. "Back to the village, right now!" She vanished into the trees ahead. Before the team could respond there was the echoing boom! of an explosive tag, immediately followed by half a dozen more and then a single cataclysmic blast that shook the ground.

Hazō was opening his mouth to say something--he would never be sure what--when Mori Body Flickered past him, racing into the trees after her sensei and her idol, both of whom happened to be the same person. Her teammates cursed in sync and went after her.

They caught up to Inoue-sensei seconds later. She was standing on the edge of a blast site, absently rubbing her arm where flying splinters had grazed her.

The genin stared in amazement. Dozens of trees--some of them very large--had been knocked down, falling perpendicular to the radius of the crater so that they formed a berm around the edges. The crater itself was shallow but wide--perhaps thirty meters across but only a meter deep at the center.

Mori let out a breath of relief to see Inoue-sensei unhurt. "Sensei, what happened?"

"Whoever that was just put up a very large 'do not disturb' sign," Inoue-sensei murmured. A moment later, she turned to the team with a forbidding frown. "Also, a group of genin ignored their sensei's orders. Apparently because they really enjoy mucking out the village pigpens for the next few days, and being on half rations, bread and water only."



This takes care of most of "Plan Labor Week Without Defenses", although I didn't get to the sciencing or caravaning. @Velorien can handle that in his next post.

Vote time: You're going to have some training time while you're busy cleaning pigpens. What do you want to spend your XP on?

Voting closes 12pm UTC on Wednesday, January 27, 2016

XP award: 24 XP
 
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Chapter 12, Part 3: Train your brain!
Chapter 12, Part 3: Train Your Brain

"I suspected Mori would be the first to figure it out," Inoue-sensei commented in a tone of weary amusement. "No, scratch that. I knew in advance, as an unmistakable, rock-hard fact, that Mori would be the first to figure it out, which by the way is something you boys should take some time to reflect on."

Hazō and Wakahisa exchanged pained glances. After several seconds' silence, Hazō, conscious of his responsibilities as sort-of team leader (and, more to the point, aware that Wakahisa was a coward), decided to bite the kunai.

"Figure what out, Inoue-sensei?"

"I told you ages ago that my elements were Water, Lightning and Wind, kids. You wouldn't think it's a hard combination to remember—it's got 'storm' written all over it. Which would have been a totally badass nickname, incidentally, but sadly for me, Captain Ayanami got there first. Though, then again, 'Heartbreaker' has it beat for subtlety.

"Anyway," she flicked her hands as if dismissing the train of thought, "given this fact, why in the name of the Mizukage's embarrassing mess of a haircut did you just smile and nod when I told you I knew Earth and Fire techniques?"

Wakahisa finally found his tongue. "But why would you—"

"Because I was afraid that, in defiance of all probability, Shikigami's little insurrection had taught you nothing. When a superior tells you something, you listen, but you engage your brain as well, and you do the work to check if it matches what you already know. Sometimes, they're just testing you. Sometimes, they've got something wrong, and if you don't tell them, you've screwed over your entire team. And sometimes, your superior's sending you on a suicide mission, and if you don't pick up on the little clues in time, there won't be enough left of you to feed the sharks. Kids, I appreciate the trust, really, I do, but you've got to know when to be good little soldiers and when to think for yourselves.

"We're not a genin training team here. We're partners in crime. And if you trust me to be right all of the time, you won't be there to catch me when I fall."
 
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Chapter 13: Science and Caravans

"Mori, final safety check."

Kei took a long breath. She had not gone this deep in a while, not since before Shikigami-sensei killed Sumie-sensei and ended the future she had expected for so long. In the future-as-planned, she would not have been drawing on her Bloodline Limit like this until she was much stronger, both as a ninja and as a Mori. But Inoue-sensei had been emphatic. When experimenting with ninjutsu, there was no level of caution too high.

So she reached down, past the shadows that were the legacy of the Mori Clan's distant progenitors, into the depths of the Frozen Skein. She touched the focus point.

Thoughts, feelings, even the outside world—all was instantly washed away by a pale wave of apathy, its waters freezing into unbreakable ice that numbed all sensation. All that was left was the Mori Voice, the incurable poison in her bloodline's chalice.

Rest. Sleep. Embrace the nothingness within you. Will is struggle. Will is suffering. Step aside from the world, and know peace. Let the gears of fate grind without you. Forsake the agony of choice, the crushing responsibility of action, and find the happiness of pure oblivion.

The litany continued, endless variations on a theme, the force of sheer repetition increasingly hypnotic, compelling. The Mori Voice was why you never, ever, dove this deep without your defences in place.

But Kei's defences were ready. The counter to the Mori Voice was strength of purpose, and her purpose had been given to her by Inoue-sensei herself.

Final safety check. Three words repeated over and over like a mantra, one looping voice cancelling out another.

She drew the ice of apathy further up her body, past the frozen heart and into the structure of her mind. Final safety check. The words were a mould, reshaping the ice as it passed through them. Finally, the ice arrived inside her eyes, twin razor-sharp shards serving as lenses of dispassionate, merciless clarity.

Once those three seconds were over, Kei opened her eyes. She slowly scanned the clearing, from right to left.

Safety Rock A, out at the very edge.

The boar bristles in the centre, placed in a small pool of water. Wakahisa next to them. Safety Rock D next to both.

Kurosawa, on a treetop mirroring her own position on the far side of the clearing. Safety Rock B on the ground, some way past Kurosawa.

Inoue-sensei, lined up in a straight line with Safety Rock A and Wakahisa, hands in Substitution Technique position, medical kit and kunai both on her, within instant reach. Flawless.

Behind Kei herself, Safety Rock C, out near the edge of her range.

All relevant objects were in position, including Kurosawa, Wakahisa and Inoue-sensei. The next step was to draw the overlay of causal webs between them, and simulate their interactions given the various possible failure modes of the experiment. Were there any variables she had not yet taken into account?

Finally, Kei concluded that the precautions taken were an acceptable balance of probability of injury or death versus available time and material resources, and that further optimisation would be impractical.

The task complete, Kei took a few seconds to melt back into her normal self.

"Safety check complete. Wakahisa, you may proceed."
-o-
"In other words," Hazō summed up, "we've got nothing."

"Hey, I tried, OK?!" Wakahisa reacted. "But I'm not a sensory type. I never said I was. For all I know, those bristles are bursting with top-quality Wakahisa Noburi chakra right now, only a certain genius came up with this experiment without figuring out how to measure the results."

"Come on, kids," Inoue-sensei said in a placating voice that almost managed not to be condescending. "A negative result is still a result. And honestly, part of me is a little relieved nothing happened. I had these visions of Noburi commanding a legion of undead steelbacks, and there's no way that was going to end well for anyone.

"Now the fact that you couldn't sense, never mind drain, the chakra that was already there—that was more of a surprise. Isn't sensing and draining chakra through water a big part of the Wakahisa package?"

Wakahisa squirmed. "The mechanics of how it works are a clan secret. I shouldn't talk about it."

Inoue-sensei fixed him with a long, thoughtful look.

"Noburi, I'm not a clan ninja. My mother was a civilian, and I'm told my father was as well. So I realise I don't know what it's like for you. Maybe giving away clan secrets is the ultimate dishonour for you, something that would weigh you down for the rest of your life. And if that's what you tell me, I'll respect it.

"But there is one thing I do know. The three of you, all Bloodline Limit kids, are incredible assets."

She paused briefly.

"I mean you have incredible assets. Jeez, I sounded like one of those soulless pencil-pushers in the Mizukage's Office for a second. Anyway, those Bloodline Limits? They're your ace in the hole, the one thing you have that even jōnin don't, at least unless they're from your clan. And as a group, they're something we have that no other missing-nin do.

"As I say, I'm cool with however you choose to deal with the clan secrets thing. Just be aware that what you tell the rest of us, and what you don't, could make a very real difference to our odds of survival."

To his credit, Wakahisa managed to hold his ground for entire seconds.

"All right. So the thing is, using my Bloodline Limit is like making myself a channel between the chakra in the water outside and the chakra in the water in my supply, with the water in my body as a medium and a filter. Sensing chakra in the water is part of that. So if I can't sense chakra even when it's in the water, then that's probably because I can't channel it for some reason."

"I have a theory," Mori cut in. "The blacksmith thought the chakra in those bristles was probably Earth Element. But the chakra in Wakahisa's canister is completely neutral. Perhaps his Bloodline Limit is simply ineffective against elemental chakra?"

Inoue-sensei nodded. "Something to think about."

"Hold on!" Wakahisa exclaimed.
Wakahisa: Vampiric Dew said:

"Don't write me off just yet! There was the thing with the water clone!"

Hazō looked at him blankly. "The thing where you tried to drain it and it burst apart and nothing happened?"

"Yes! I mean no! I mean I felt something! If I can't absorb elemental chakra, then I guess that goes for my own elemental chakra as well, but… I got the feeling that maybe, if I was faster or more focused or whatever, I could've held onto the clone's Water chakra long enough to recycle it into some other technique!"

Inoue-sensei shrugged. "That's an experiment for another time, I think. We need to make good use of the next few days for training, before the caravan arrives. And hey, we experimented with Bloodline Limit ninjutsu and no one got killed, maimed or even particularly humiliated. I call that a win!"
-o-
The caravan, when it finally came, was impressive. There were three wagons, pulled by things that might have been cows if they'd had the right number of legs and didn't have greyish-blue carapaces and permanent expressions of thoughtful ennui. There were also, as far as Hazō could see, three guards: a giant of a man with a somewhat clichéd huge club over his shoulder, a young woman with a shortbow on her back, and an older woman with a sword at her hip, in a proper scabbard, no less.

"Yamada, huh? You can call me Baikan, trader at large!" the middle-aged man in the front wagon exclaimed with a sweeping, dramatic hand movement, followed by a self-deprecating chuckle. "My wife Miyu's in the back, sorting out the inventory. What're you interested in, Yamada? A nice heavy coat for the winter? Not that it's ever anything but winter up here, but it's the thought that counts. Or maybe some spices? If you're anything like me, you need all the help you can get making your cooking taste like there was some actual food somewhere in its ancestry. Or maybe you need to impress a lady friend? I've got all sorts, from—"

"Uh, Mr Baikan, sir, where is your caravan going from here?" Hazō interrupted.

"We've got ourselves a neat little route along the coast, lad. We swing through Rice, then spend a little longer than might be strictly necessary in Hot Springs," Baikan gave Hazō a wink, "make our way across Frost—quite the contrast, let me tell you—and then we either press on into Lightning or double back, depending on how trade's going. Why do you ask? You thinking of joining us?"

Hazō gave what he hoped was a noncommittal shrug.

Baikan waved the younger of his female guards over. "What do you reckon, Aya? Does he strike you as the sort of lad who could keep us safe out on the road? Can't have too many hands on deck, not after the ghost moth incident."

Aya studied Hazō's figure and body language carefully. Hazō did his best to stand like someone who could handle himself in a fight, while not being a member of an elite warrior caste individually capable of wiping entire armies off the face of the earth (eventually, anyway).​

Hazō: Deception said:
Aya: Awareness said:

After a couple of seconds, she shrugged. "Seems all right to me. Long as he keeps his hands to himself, I've got no problem with it."

Baikan gave a satisfied nod.

"There you go. No need to rush into anything, mind. We'll be spending a few days here, trading and resting and whatnot. I should probably look for new investors, too, after what happened to poor Kanda, but given how there's less than a hundred people in this village, I'm not too optimistic."
-o-
What are your plans from here?

[] Stay in the village and carry on with the helping and dangerous experimentation
[] Question Baikan to within an inch of his life (with or without torture)
[] Join the caravan and go forth to see the world
[] Steal and/or plunder the caravan (sorry, @eaglejarl)
[] Attempt to contact the individual nearly responsible for scattering your remains over an exceedingly wide area

Write-ins accepted.​
 
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Chapter 14: Bloodline Revealed!

"Sensei, I need to speak to you privately," Hazō said quietly.

Inoue-sensei raised an eyebrow. "Sure," she said sotto voce. She tapped him with the point of the kunai to show that he was, once again, 'dead', then rolled to her feet and gave him a hand up.

"Okay, what did we learn from this?" she said, turning to where Hazō's teammates sat watching.

"Don't kick above the knee," Wakahisa said, grinning. "Or someone might grab your leg and dump you on your head."

Inoue-sensei laughed. "Something like that, yes. It's situational. Kicks to the head, the body, and the groin hit hard and can end the fight quickly, but they also leave your leg hanging out there for an opponent. Look at the other person's style; a big man often doesn't have the speed to grab your leg, so high kicks are a good way to get it done. Many guys like that fight by soaking damage until they can get in close to grapple, take you to the ground. That is the absolute last place you want to be against an opponent like that, and if you ever end up there I will be ashamed of you.

"On the other end of the spectrum you get people like me; I don't have a lot of mass, so I can't physically generate as much power as someone like Shikigami or Captain Zabuza. I could make up for that with chakra use, but chakra runs out, so when I designed my fighting style I chose not to go that route. I'm fast; I'll move in close, break something, then move out again. In and out, like a wolf. Against someone like me you want to control the range and keep from hanging anything out where I can catch it. Someone strong, like Hazō, wants to slow me down with kicks to the legs and then move in for a grapple."

She checked to see that all three students were nodding their understanding, then clapped her hands. "Okay, new task: escape and evasion. We'll split into pairs; one person needs to E&E back to camp, the other person has to track them down and capture them. Wakahisa, you'll be hunting Mori, I'll be hunting Kurosawa. Mori, you have a thirty second headstart; go that direction three hundred paces before you turn for camp. Go!"

Mori took off into the woods like a scalded cat. Wakahisa counted down thirty seconds, then leaped after her.

"Alone at last," Inoue said. "So, what's on your brain?"

Hazō licked his lips. "There's something you need to know about my bloodline," he said. "It's a clan secret though; I need you to promise to keep it quiet."

"Nope," Inoue-sensei said. "I won't go blabbing it around, but I'll use it or share it whenever I think it's advantageous to the team."

Hazō grimaced. "Okay," he said. He took a deep breath. "How much do you know about the Kurosawa bloodline?"

"It gives you an incredible kinesthetic sense, lets you learn physical skills at an accelerated rate," she said. "Why?"

Hazō shook his head. "It's more than that. We have eidetic muscle memory. I have a library in my head of every movement I've ever made, of any muscle in my body. I can replay them at any time. Arms, legs, face, tongue—it doesn't just let me learn taijutsu quickly, it lets me reproduce any expression, any body language, any word that I've ever spoken. If you teach me an accent and I manage to say a word correctly once, I'll get it right every time from then on."

Inoue-sensei's eyebrows went up. "That's rather more significant than I knew," she said. "I can think of a lot of things we can use that for."

Hazō nodded. "There's one more thing," he said. "Seals. If I see a seal, I can reproduce the blank perfectly, every time. Here." He held out a sheet of paper with a design on it. "This is a copy of the seal on your storage scroll—the one with the red stamp. I didn't have any chakra ink so it's just the design, but if that had been done with appropriate tools a sealmaster could turn it into a proper seal in under a minute."

Inoue-sensei blinked. "Is this a joke?" she said.

Hazō shook his head. "No. We don't talk about it, but didn't you ever wonder why the Kurosawa have had at least one sealmaster in every generation?"

"Hadn't really thought about it, to be honest," Inoue-sensei said. "Which, in retrospect, was a mistake. That's statistically improbable. Why is this a secret? Why aren't you all rolling in money and living the luxury life?"

"It's...complicated," Hazō said. "Do you know our family motto?"

"'By darkness unmoved," Inoue quoted. "I never quite understood it."

"It means we hold the line," Hazō said. "My family have been ninja of the Mist since the village was founded. Before that, we were 'hilltop daimyo' for as far back as our family records go. We have always been warriors, and we have always believed that it is our duty to stand at the edge of civilization's light and keep out the darkness that threatens it. We didn't want that taken away from us when we joined Mist. If we made it known that we could produce dozens of seals an hour, the logical thing for the village to do would have been to keep us locked up and guarded, constantly cranking out seals for the use of other people. We would have been taken off the line."

Inoue-sensei thought about that. "It could be argued that that would have been a better way to hold the line," she said carefully. "That you would have done more for the fight that way."

Hazō shrugged. "I never said we were logical, just dedicated."

Inoue-sensei snorted. "I can get behind that. Okay, so you're saying that if we can find a sealmaster then the two of you can produce all the tags and scrolls and whatnot that we could possibly want?"

Hazō nodded. "Yes. Or, if I can get the training and the tools, I can make the seals myself. If all this hadn't happened, I would have started my seal training as soon as I made chūnin."

"Hm," Inoue-sensei said. "Okay, thanks for telling me. I'll keep this quiet, but it definitely factors into our plans." She paused again, staring at the ground and lost in thought, before shaking it away and looking up at Hazō. "Now, as I recall, we were supposed to be doing an E&E drill," she said. "I think you better start running." She grinned evilly and twirled a kunai in her fingers.

Hazō gulped and vanished into the forest.

o-o-o-o​

"What did he say, sensei?" Mori asked as Mari came back from talking to the old fisherman.

"Nothing," Mari said. She sighed. "It was very frustrating. He's a terrible liar and it was obvious he was hiding something, but I couldn't even get him to talk around the edges of it."

"You could make him talk," Wakahisa said. "You could even use your genjutsu on him so that he didn't remember talking."

Mari shook her head. "First, genjutsu right in the middle of the village is a little obvious. Second, no reason to go to those extremes when there's an easier way. Get lost, all of you. I have someone else to talk to and I can't do it with you lot hovering. Go talk to the caravan, see if you can get any information about the nearby towns. Try to get a map, too."

"Yes, sensei," the genin chorused before turning and trotting off.

o-o-o-o​

Kimiko trotted down to the beach to where Nanami and Akemi were gathering lake plums. The fruit weren't actually plums, but they were small and purple and juicy and the village ate them as often as they could. More importantly, this area of the shore was relatively safe, so gathering fruit here was a safe way for four-year-old girls to contribute.

"Hi, Kimiko!" Akemi called, smiling and waving.

"Hi yourself, Akemi," Kimiko said, smiling and joining the other two in plucking the fruit and setting it in the basket she carried over her arm. "You guys missed it! That ninja girl was talking to old man Kurō. She kept asking questions and he was all"—she screwed up her face in a four-year-old's best imitation of a grumpy scowl—"'grr, don't know nuthin' grr!' She looked so frustrated, I was expecting to see fire shoot out her nose!"

"Don't be silly, Kimiko," Nanami said. "Ninja can't really breathe fire. That's just stories."

Kimiko glared. "Mommy says they can!"

"If they can breathe fire, why did they light their campfire with flint and steel?" Nanami said triumphantly.

"Maybe they just didn't want to waste their magic entertaining you!" Kimiko said, sticking her tongue out.

"What was she asking Kurō about?" Akemi asked, trying to play peacemaker.

"Oh, she wanted to know about the 'black hunter'," Kimiko said, making quotes with her fingers.

Nanami laughed. "I think they met him on their last trip out," she said. "You know, before Yamada and the other two started mucking out the pigpens."

"Yeah, what was up with that, anyway?" Akemi asked. "Why would the grownup be mucking and one of the kids wasn't?"

Kimiko shrugged. "I heard him say that it was 'penance'," she said. "What's penance?"

"It's a ninja thing," Nanami said smugly. "You wouldn't understand."

"You don't know, do you?" Kimiko challenged.

"Do too!" Nanami said.

"Yeah? What does it mean, then?"

"It's like when the hunter killed the chakra bear that ate Matsuoko and left the body on the edge of the woods," the girl said. "It proves that he can do anything."

The other two girls digested that.

"How does mucking out pigpens prove they can do anything?" Akemi asked doubtfully.

"It...shows that they can master their pride," Nanami said.

"That's dumb," Kimiko said. She paused then glanced up the beach. "Ooh, look, raspberries!"

The three girls hurried up the beach towards the tasty fruit.

o-o-o-o​

"They said they're going this way," Hazō said, tracing his finger along the map that he'd bought from the caravan. It wasn't nearly up to the standards of the Mist cartography service, but at least it had all the major and some of the minor towns marked. "Also, I got a briefing on some of the towns in the area." He passed over a sheet of paper with small but neat handwriting across the front.

Inoue-sensei skimmed the paper, then glanced at Hazō. "Written briefing, not verbal? We don't have unlimited paper."

"It helps me remember, sensei," Hazō said. "It seemed like important information."

Inoue-sensei nodded, understanding the implication. "Okay. You're right, this is good stuff. Wakahisa, Mori, what did you get?"

"I spoke to the caravan guards," Mori said. "Specifically, Michi, the older woman. I informed her that we were caravan guards and offered to trade survival advice with her. As our conversation progressed, she told me about the others. Aya, the young woman with the bow? She was a ninja candidate in Lightning, but she was discarded in her first semester—she lacked the discipline. Daisuke, the man with the club, is from a village in the north of Iron that was annihilated in a ninja battle. He was a teenager when it happened; he lacked skills other than combat, and has thus been a guard ever since. Michi'has been working with Baikan for nine years, but the other two only joined recently—Aya three months ago, Daisuke just under a year ago."

"I managed to get a barrel," Wakahisa said, holding it up. "And I heard about a place up in the north. There's a bandit leader there who's trying to found a new city and go straight. He's brought in merchants of all kinds—paper makers, tanners, builders. He's got a call out for fighters to serve as a militia, and apparently he's got money to pay. No one knows where he's getting it, but he's paying in gold. Apparently he's got five thousand ninja serving in his army already."

Inoue-sensei snorted. "There's a tale that grew in the telling," she said. "There's probably a bandit, and he's probably trying to put a place together, and the rest of it is probably crap. Still, could be an interesting place to look. In the meantime, I found out something interesting about our ninja friend: according to a snotty young lady named Nanami, the so-called black hunter has contact with the villagers other than killing them. Apparently they were having a problem with a chakra bear; he killed it and left the carcass on the edge of the woods for them. They skinned it out and ate it, and then they left three baskets of lake plums where it had been. The plums were gone the next morning, but the baskets were still there, and undisturbed."

"What do you think it means, sensei?" Wakahisa asked.

"That he's not completely a hermit," she said. "That maybe he can actually be approached, if it's done in the right way. Now, I want to give us some options. First, Hazō: draw me three identical pictures of one of those waterbugs. I want to give these people a recognition signal that we can use to communicate. Next, let's talk about plans for the future."



Here endeth the episode. Voting time! What do you do next:

  • Head for that bandit town and its 'five thousand ninja'
  • Join the caravan; they leave tomorrow
  • Try to contact the 'black hunter'
  • Stick around town, settle down, become fisherfolk, and while away the days eating lake plums

- The caravan moves slowly, so you can catch up with them as long as you leave the village anytime in the next two days. If you give them more of a head start than that, you can't catch up without it being obvious that you're ninja.

- If you want to contact the black hunter, how do you do it?
 
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