...and here it is. Hoping to get into a more regular update schedule for the next few months, as things will be moving faster from here on out.
Thanks to
@keios for edits.
(1.7)
The week leading up to your heist is a whirlwind of activity, but a controlled, consistent one. You take a few more trips out to the compound, noting the patrol patterns and schedule of the guards. There are three total groups of them, rotating in and out such that two groups are on shift at any given time.
Well, any given time except when they rotate. Their organization is passable—even good, considering they're a civilian organization—but not exemplary, and the groups don't seem to coordinate starting and ending shifts. Sometimes there's a whole twenty-to-thirty second gap when half the guards are below-deck, and even when their timing matches up, the exiting group clearly stops paying attention to their surroundings the instant their shift is over. Another little detail that might be useful.
Besides that, there's a lot to look into. Ikki, for his part, seems to be busy trying to figure out exactly how many and what kinds of herbs to mash together to do the job. He ends up dragging you to a nearby flower shop to buy some innocuous-looking flowers which Ikki assures you induce minor drowsiness and loss of fine motor control in most canine species, according to a book he just read.
Then it's back to the maps and the drawing board. You have a few days to come up with a detailed plan, contingencies for the plan, contingencies for the contingencies for the plan, and so on. Ikki whines about it, of course, but you know he's pretty good at finding the weak points in your ideas and coming up with weird outside-the-box approaches, so it's good to keep him around.
You don't get too much of the city the whole week—only a few quick trips to local eateries, all of them fast and cheap, none of them curry, and one brief rooftop excursion with Ikki that ends as soon as you realize you're attracting the attention of local ninja patrols—and you think it's kind of a shame. Ikki must, too, since you can see him stealing longing glances out the windows when he's supposed to be memorizing patrol patterns. Work takes precedence over play, though, so there's nothing for it.
Eventually the night of the festival comes around. Ikki heads out first, in the early afternoon, a couple of satchels tied to his belt.
"Wish me luck," he says, shooting you his trademark goofy grin.
"Hope you won't need it," you say back.
It's already well under way by the time dusk falls and you suit up—the streets and overpasses are thronged with people, served by entertainers and food stalls that you're sure weren't there yesterday, and the already-bright city lights have been joined by braces of brightly flickering paper lanterns. It's… so much
more than the festivals you have at home. You suppose more people in one place means more more stuff, though, and this is just the logical extent of that.
This is probably your seventh or eighth trip out to the glassmaker's complex, you reflect on the way. The route is almost familiar by now, but tonight it all feels fresh again. Maybe it's the festivities and its accompanying mood lighting turning the sky into a bright haze. Maybe it's the knowledge that this will probably be the last time you make this trip.
Maybe you're just nervous.
Nerves or no, it takes no longer to arrive than it did before. You meet up with Ikki at the rim of the compound. As you'd hoped, the guards are fewer today than normal. Even with that, though, you're not completely certain you can make it across the whole compound without being seen. That's not to say you think you'll be seen; you're just not completely certain.
Fifteen minutes later, the first shift changes, just as expected. Perfect.
You drop down between a large warehouse and the walls, using the building as cover as you edge around to a side path.
Said path is normally watched by a guard in a tower as well as regularly frequented by two-man patrols, but the tower is empty right now, and you know the route of the patrol that normally covers it. You count down four seconds in your head, waiting for the patrol to pass behind another building, and then you dart out, down the path and to a little maintenance shack, Ikki following in your shadow.
Rather frustratingly, the central tower is well-isolated from the surrounding buildings by a lot of flat, open space. From an architectural perspective, it's sensible: lawns and greenery do wonders for quality of life. Examining it these past few weeks, though, you've couldn't help but think there was some non-landscaping intent there—the only paths to the main building lead through a ring of flat greenery, like a grassy moat surrounding a castle keep. Four patrols usually cross the clearing at some point in their route, and guards perched on the main building itself keep constant vigilance.
Your preparation has, of course, taken this into account, although it's by far the trickiest part of the plan.
One of the patrol groups approaches the warehouse you're hiding behind, single file, only half on alert. They have a rather uncoordinated-looking dog following on a leash, looking like it might totter over at any moment; as it passes near you it stumbles briefly in your direction, letting out a low whine. The guards hardly seem to notice, though—some of them seem a little inebriated themselves, slurring their words loudly into the night air—and one of them absent-mindedly pulls the leash onwards while finishing the loud and rather crude joke he's currently telling.
These guards are as much in a festival mood as anyone else, you think; they're seemingly intent on joining in on the revelry, or at least drinking, as much as they can, holiday shift be damned. One lingers a little as the patrol passes by, wobbling slightly as another guard begins to drag him away by the arm.
Good enough.
You dash out behind them, crossing the path and onto the lawn in the space of a second, the chakra of a mostly-formed jutsu flickering through your coils. Right before the next patrol makes their last turn into the clearing, you activate said jutsu and
fall straight into the suddenly-soft earth.
Then it's just a waiting game, hiding under the loose earth and pinging your chakra off the outside world. You're not completely immobile, although your control of the technique isn't actually good enough to tunnel at the earth at anything faster than a snail's pace. This in itself isn't a big deal, as you've become pretty sure that none of the guards here can sense chakra, and so your speed is irrelevant. However, Iwa's mountainous terrain is rocky and the bedrock unusually shallow; both significant complicating factors.
Interestingly, though, whoever put in these lawns were careful to plant them over a thick bed of
actual soil, soil loose enough for you to tunnel through without giving yourself away. You shift your way through the earth a little bit to find a good position, wincing a little bit at the strange muddy sliminess of chakra-infused soil, and then start collecting chakra for another technique.
You let it loose the instant you feel the patrol pass by, snaring them in a genjutsu. The men stumble slightly as your illusion settles on them, and Ikki takes this chance to make his.
From there, all you have to do is pop back out, gently easing off the illusion as you do so, vault up some sheds, and then it's just a short, chakra-enabled climb up the side of the building to the top floor. There are no less than six guards watching the roof, so you won't be going up there. The roof access is locked, anyways, and stealthily picking the lock is a rather unpromising strategy with that number of guards. Instead, you jimmy open one of the top floor windows—you know none of them have locks—and then you're in.
You're surprised at how well everything worked out, actually. You were worried that some of them might have been trained to recognize genjutsu. You
did have a plan in place for that, of course, but the best-case outcome for contingencies is always never having to use them.
Your point of entry to the building is an abandoned storage closet without a lock, and you slowly push the door open. It
creaks, a harsh rusty squealing noise that really seemed disproportionate for a door that size, but nobody comes running. The top floor is completely empty, after all.
Stepping into the hallway, you take a few moments to absorb the surroundings. Even shrouded in shadow, the hallway feels strangely sterile—the walls are smooth and white, the floor is tile, and the whole space is broken up only by occasional and completely identical potted plants. Combined with the total empty stillness, and the whole thing is rather unsettling.
Still, the way is clear—straight down this hall, take a right there, fourth room on the right, pick the lock—and then you're standing amidst a half-dozen shelves full of binders and scrolls.
"Wow," says Ikki.
You elbow him and make a zip your lips motion. Banter is
not appropriate for stealth missions.
The specific record you're looking for is, rather obnoxiously, hidden in the very last shelf you check, and you
harumph quietly to yourself as you pull it down from its resting place. It's a thick packet—a parcel, almost—marked with a year, a serial number, and a village symbol. It's not Iwa's symbol either, but Konoha's, which is interesting to say the least. Konoha and Iwa haven't historically been on good terms, and
especially now with all the squabbling over Kusa. That would certainly explain why somebody wanted this specific information, then.
You hand the packet from Ikki and start the journey back out. You leave the way you came, bypassing the patrols the same way without incident. As you crest the first of the big stone crags ringing the compound, Ikki tugs your sleeve.
"Look over there," he says, pointing off towards the city.
You're about to shush him again—you're still on a mission, after all—but then you see it. A glimmering cloud of lights rises up from the city center, flickering and swaying gently in the stiff breeze. It's the lanterns, you realize: a thousand candles borne on canvas sleeves, floating up and away into the night sky. Just tonight, cloth stars light the sky.
"It's beautiful," you say. Ikki nods.
===
You and Ikki are both grinning when you arrive back at the hotel room, handing the little package to Hotarubi-sensei.
"Knew you could do it," he says, ruffling your hair. "Let's get this back home. Wouldn't do to keep a client waiting for
too long."
===
There's a trio of guards stationed at the lone bridge that leads to your village, which is unusual; usually Hoshi doesn't bother with stationing guards past the bounds of the village itself.
Neither of them stops to question you or anything like that—Hoshi has few enough ninja that most of them at least recognize Hotarubi-sensei—but one of them steps forward to head you off as you approach.
"The Hoshikage requires your presence," says the man, a little apologetically.
Hotarubi-sensei nods at the man. "We will debrief with him immediately."
He turns to nod at you, his lips drawn into a thin hard line, and then continues wordlessly across the bridge. You and Ikki follow.
Your father's office is disorganized, in a way that you've never seen before. It's not a
mess, but some of the normally neat little stacks of paperwork are strewn about in rough piles now, and the number of half-written letters on his desk seems to have multiplied many times over. Still, he is ever the picture of dignity as he shuffles the paperwork he's been going through and turns to acknowledge you.
"It is good that you are here," he says. "I imagine that you performed admirably on this mission."
You nod. "Everything went well. We'll drop the package off at the mission office as soon as we can."
"That is good. I am pleased." He favors you with a brief smile, before turning to Hotarubi-sensei. "The jounin council must convene on a matter."
We were waiting for your return, he doesn't say, although the implication is obvious.
Hotarubi-sensei dips his head in acknowledgement, the same stern mask on his face as before. "I understand, Hoshikage-sama." He turns back to you. "Go sign off on the mission at the mission office and take the rest of the day off."
"Wait, but don't we need you to sign—" Ikki begins, but you grab him by the arm and drag him off before he can finish.
===
The mission office, as it turns out, is unusually accommodating with the report, and you have it signed off and your stolen parcel collected in record time. Then… there really isn't anything to do, now, so the two of you decide to take a slightly early dinner.
It's a little tense—it's just you and Ikki and some yakisoba, and neither of you are particularly hungry—but you dutifully pick at your noodles as Ikki rather obviously struggles to keep a lid on his curiosity.
"What's happening?" he finally says, although it comes out flat, almost more a statement than a question.
It's a good question. Hotarubi-sensei was needed for a meeting of the jounin council, you recall, but that body generally doesn't need all of its members present to make decisions—as far as you know almost all of their meetings are about patrol logistics and trade routes. The list of things that would
require Hotarubi-sensei's presence—in spite of his assignment to a long-term mission, even—is very short. There's really only one thing you know of, actually.
"We're going to fight a war," you half-whisper.
===
What will you do?
[] As your father's presumptive heir, this is specifically the kind of thing that you need to learn about. Find your father and ask to be looped in.
[] It seems like everything's pretty hectic right now, and you don't want to distract your father from his duties, but you're still curious. Ask Hotarubi-sensei for more information the next time you see him.
[] It's high-level strategery stuff, and it doesn't really concern you because you're not even nine yet. You should be training instead, anyways.
Your training will, of course, not go neglected now that Hoshi is on war footing; rather the opposite. What do you focus on?
[] write-in. You have 8+1=9xp to distribute among any items on your
character sheet. XP costs to next level are displayed.