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The Land of Fire has earned a reputation for colorful forest and vast woodlands. Lively acres filled from east to west with wildflower so far a different variety. Creating vivid waves of beauty whenever the wind blew across the fields. Such scenery could easily lead to one forgetting the brutal murderers and heartless assassins who cared for nought. The mesmerizing fields overwhelmed memories of savage wars and the hundreds lost during bloody battles. One particular plot of land had grown into a Kigiku field which was surrounded by a dense forest. A forest of thick trees which blocked a majority of the bright sunlight attempting to kiss the earth. However, wildlife seemed unfazed by the slight darkness beneath the wide branches. They continued playing and singing alongside the wind, occasi

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  • Blood Over the Corpse
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  • The Land of Fire has earned a reputation for colorful forest and vast woodlands. Lively acres filled from east to west with wildflower so far a different variety. Creating vivid waves of beauty whenever the wind blew across the fields. Such scenery could easily lead to one forgetting the brutal murderers and heartless assassins who cared for nought. The mesmerizing fields overwhelmed memories of savage wars and the hundreds lost during bloody battles. One particular plot of land had grown into a Kigiku field which was surrounded by a dense forest. A forest of thick trees which blocked a majority of the bright sunlight attempting to kiss the earth. However, wildlife seemed unfazed by the slight darkness beneath the wide branches. They continued playing and singing alongside the wind, occasi
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abstract
  • The Land of Fire has earned a reputation for colorful forest and vast woodlands. Lively acres filled from east to west with wildflower so far a different variety. Creating vivid waves of beauty whenever the wind blew across the fields. Such scenery could easily lead to one forgetting the brutal murderers and heartless assassins who cared for nought. The mesmerizing fields overwhelmed memories of savage wars and the hundreds lost during bloody battles. One particular plot of land had grown into a Kigiku field which was surrounded by a dense forest. A forest of thick trees which blocked a majority of the bright sunlight attempting to kiss the earth. However, wildlife seemed unfazed by the slight darkness beneath the wide branches. They continued playing and singing alongside the wind, occasionally running into the Kigiku field and disturbing masses of birds. Either way, the Land of Fire possessed a serenity rarely seen during eras of war. Almost creating the undeniable calm before a ravaging storm. Regardless, citizens of the Land of Fire lived an ignorant life due to a lack of fear and a powerful trust in their guardians. Shinobi who dealt with public criminal activity transformed the country into an externally peaceful nation, unlike the neighboring country located across the sea. However, there existed a powerful darkness located inside the Land of Fire which surrounded its habitants in ignorance. Those who operated the darkness dealt heavily in trafficking narcotics and humans throughout different countries; with larger syndicates holding powerful ties and treaties with governmental officials of both the Land of Fire and surrounding countries. With its prime location in the center of a large land mass, the Land of Fire became an infamous hub for those using its highways for evil. Unfortunately, the Land of Fire's status as a shinobi world superpower made it difficult for lesser nations to truly stand against the shadow coasted by its flames of passion. On the contrary, countries equal in both power and status possessed the military strength and aptitude to combat this darkness. The shinobi villages often banded together to stand against the evils which haunted this world. However, complete trust in one another was a virtue rare in the world of shinobi. Resulting in various countries using their own darkness to combat neighboring nations. One such individual was the head of a criminal syndicate situated nearby. His influence stretched beyond the boundaries of Kusagakure and reached deeply into the Land of Fire and even touched upon the Land of Water. Causing his head to become a battle between the two nations, who desired the upper hand in the nonphysical war of information gathering. Just in case one nation decides to abandon the previously set treaties or act selfishly, countries continuously gathered potential weapons for this war. "Who the hell are you?!" A voice boomed. Through the shadows of the thick forest ran a middle aged man drenched in sweat and panting heavily. His feet pounded against the earth rapidly while he darted forward, in fear of the even quicker approaching darkness. He occasionally saw the glow of lavender eyes as they latched onto him. A silent demon who pursued him without remorse, ignoring how loud his prey roared or the questions he asked. The poor elder felt like he had become game for a sick individual unaffiliated to a specific village. Or so he thought, for the demon wore nothing but black clothing, a mask, and a blank headband. "I have to escape this place, I can't see where I'm going. If I can make it to the field up ahead I stand a better chance against whoever this maniac is." The poor victim persuaded himself. A man who went from simply enjoying a trip to a nearby auctioning manor to escaping for his life. He felt his legs buckling under stress but continued onwards towards the bright light of the forest clearing. When he finally emerged through the opening, he felt a swift explosion of warmth followed by immediate numbness as light engulfed him. "Am...Am I dead?" He laid in the field of golden flowers with multiple punctures alongside his spine. He felt extremely heavy from the silver senbon embedded deep within each point, effectively removing his ability to move a muscle. However, beyond the fear brought upon by paralysis was an even greater terror created from not exactly understanding the source of this strike nor the situation. The punctures even robbed his ability to effectively ask a question. Instead, he watched silently as black boots stepped within his vision alongside the sound of a kunai being called forth. During the moments leading to his perceived last seconds, the criminal mastermind recalled the hundreds of lives he was responsible for. The thousands of screams and gallons of tears shed before him alongside the victims he personally claimed. Perhaps this retribution was deserved...But at least he would die in such a beautiful field of golden flowers. From the dark cowl of the forest’s shadows that hedged the sunlit field, a masked observer watched as the kunai caught the light with a murderous gleam before a thin trail of red flashed through the air. Impassive and silent, any hint of emotion that might have crossed her face was hidden behind the smooth, white shield of the Anbu, but her body stiffened, suggesting sudden unease. With the slightest of movements, she placed a small seed in her mouth and chewed on it as she carefully considered the situation that was presented before her. The three-man squad had been covertly trailing the man —codenamed as Kōrogi for the operation— since he had left the syndicate auction meeting nearly an hour before. They had intended to follow Kōrogi through the maze of the underworld back to the seat of his power: as one follows a slender thread through a labyrinth to its center. However, their plans had gone awry when, perhaps startled by the threat of being exposed, Kōrogi had taken flight. It was impossible to tell what exactly had triggered his suspicion until the Anbu had realized he was being hunted by another assassin— the very man who had just now slit Kōrogi’s throat. They had been out-maneuvered. They had watched their target collapse in the field, without a single mark of injury, and knew that in that instant their mission had ended in failure. Now, the only way to salvage a semblance of success would be to retrieve the body of Kōrogi. But the fact that they had not even noticed the other pursuer until several minutes into the chase suggested the mysterious shinobi was highly skilled; a master of stealth and subtlety just as the Anbu were themselves. In other words, it was doubtful the task would be an easy one. Cursing silently, the leader of the team, Yuzume, kneaded her hands together in a simple hand signal. Rising from the dirt, a figure identical to herself materialized from the ground, and she quickly gave the clone quiet instructions before sending it off on its task. “I’ve sent for reinforcements,” she whispered to her partner, Kama, who was crouching next to her in the shadows. He did not question her, but she sensed his silent protest nonetheless. She knew as well as he that the three of them should have been sufficient in handling the shinobi before them, but Yuzume tended to be cautious... sometimes overly so. Nonetheless, it would take time to send in regular forces from the nearest outpost, meaning she would have to buy her teammates some time. If there was to be a confrontation, that was. Yuzume quickly delivered her instructions to Kama: he and the other Anbu were to remain in place while she approached the assassin alone. There was a slender possibility that the shinobi had set a trap in the field in advance, in which case she would be the one to spring it as opposed to Kōrogi. More importantly, without knowing the country —if any— that their potential adversary was from she could not risk engaging him outright. As simple as the situation might have seemed, Yuzume knew she was already neck-deep in the delicate waters of international politics. A ripple could provoke a tsunami, and she refused to be the one responsible for starting a war. Peace must be preserved, and justice upheld. Even an agent of Root like her could see the importance in holding to such principles. At least, for the time being. Blending into her surroundings, she glided out from the forest, slipping along with a gust of wind to mask her movement through the sea of gold around her. She recognized the flowers as chrysanthemum, although their symbolism was lost to her as she was not one given over to sentiment or allegory. Their leafy scent was alluring, the motes of dust from the petals creating a glimmering mist that hung in the early fall air. Yet the vitality of it all was intrinsically fading, and the iron smell of fresh blood permeated the ground. A few moments after the masked hunter had delivered the fatal blow, Yuzume appeared. Neither spoke as they gauged each other warily, the corpse stretching between them. “We have the field surrounded. Identify yourself and state your business here,” Yuzume spoke calmly yet with certain authority. Her hand rested instinctively on the hilt of her short sword, which hung ready in its sheath at the small of her back. The firmness in her tone made it clear that there would be no bargaining. “Also, step away from the body.” she added more quietly. The Demon of the Afterimages underwent various personas and hid behind a multitude of mask to obscure his identity. However, he gained a particular infamy for a certain trait he often thought common sense for shinobi. A weapon many tossed away in hopes of peaceful negotiations and foolish desires for chivalrous discussions. Obviously neither individual served the Land of Iron, which meant codes of honor would be a waste among two shinobi. Before answering, his lavender eyes sharpened as he analyzed the newly arrived challenger while a thick silence built itself. Although both agents of the darkness chose to pursue apparel built around the concept of anonymity, Dǎiyì had a certain seedling pertaining to who she served. An idea that relied on only two options: the criminal syndicate of the corpse before him or Konohagakure. Either way, Dǎiyì had to approach the situation delicately and without fail. An ounce of information leak could lead to a disastrous aftermath for both parties. "I cannot do that." Dǎiyì spoke, his voice muffled under his black mask. "This body is to be disposed of and his head retrieved as per my superiors order. Any movement against me shall result in your demise." Although clad in a black outfit, Dǎiyì lacked any visible shinobi tools or weapons on his person. And he radiated an aura of serenity and tranquility, as oppose the usual murderous gaze shinobi possessed. Dǎiyì appeared as nothing more than an enigmatic dream when the wind blew the flowers about. Surprisingly, the shinobi of the hidden mist remained calm and nearby the corpse. "If you value your life, you'll leave." “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” she stated tersely as she drew her knife as a threat, leveling its tip at the stranger’s neck. “Stand down immediately.” Yuzume had quickly realized that any chance to draw negotiations had long ago slipped away from her, and she could not proceed further without jeopardizing the assignment and potentially instigating Root in a crime they would not have otherwise been party to. From his words and the steely confidence he bore, she doubted the man before her was a missing-nin, meaning he was most likely from Kumo or Kiri considering their invisible hostilities with Konoha. Still, she hesitated to attack. The two agents had met at an impasse with equal force and something, eventually, had to give; but for now she ignored that reality. Yuzume quieted herself, analyzing each possible action and determining the potential conclusions. She had time to wait, intending to use the reinforcements she had sent for to trap him into taking action. However it was, in the end, neither Yuzume nor Dǎiyì who made the first attack, but one of the other Anbu. He had followed Yuzume as she threaded her way through the field, and upon seeing her draw her blade he rushed in from the side. In an instant Kama had launched the weapon for which he had been named, and the small sickles buzzed over the tops of the chrysanthemums. He seemed to be aiming for the knees, his intention to wrap the chain of the sickle around Dǎiyì’s legs in order to knock him off balance, but the danger of the hooked blades themselves were not to be underestimated. Yuzume’s eyes widened in horror at the insubordination, but it was too late now to call him back. With ruthless opportunism she took advantage of the distraction to attack, releasing the blade in her hand with keen fluidity. It arced towards the man’s neck, the thinnest black line that shadowed it revealing its true threat. Even if he were to dodge the knife, the razor wire attached to the hilt was carried forwards with enough weight and speed to cut through his throat. It was clear that Yuzume, under the sudden turn of events, aimed to end things as quickly as possible. A gentle breeze kissed the cheeks of the opposing parties while swallowing the threat she made, creating a couple seconds of frightening silence. However the spontaneous razor, which decapitated the beautiful golden flowers, interrupted the thick tension that had formed between both Yuzume and Dǎiyì. He quickly located the source of the rattling chains and abandoned his desire of peacefully resolving this issue. "Fine." He whispered. His body operated with a ghostly fluidity while his legs exploded with raw power, resulting in his person suddenly soaring upwards. Dǎiyì immediately seized control over every muscle in his body and flung himself into an elegant backwards flip; causing the Kama to continue slicing onwards for a few feet beneath him. Unfortunately, the raven-haired beauties surprise throw caught him off guard. Although Dǎiyì could seemingly change maneuvers mid-movement, altering his position to completely evade her strike appeared impossible. Taking the only available option, Dǎiyì twisted his upper portion so her knife would pierce into his shoulder. Causing droplets of blood to taint the petals beneath him. Dǎiyì ignored the excruciating pain and seized the opportunity to throw his arm forward, slightly revealing one of various seals branded upon his Body. The use of sleight of hand called forth a small silver pellet that dropped onto the earth beneath him. When the blade entered his shoulder, an eruption of smoke engulfed the surrounding area, conjuring a thick smothering cloud that robbed both parties of visibility. Afterwards, an individual puff of white smoke consumed his own body when Dǎiyì eventually landed. Although abrupt, the clearing smoke revealed nothing but a small fly which landed upon the corpse beneath; apparently hungering for the decaying flesh. Eventually the thick smothering smoke disappeared with a couple powerful gust of wind blown from the nearby sea. In the center of the golden field laid the corpse that Yuzume desired, almost presented to both her and her partner on a golden platter. The demon who previously faced them disappeared without a trace, reminiscing a dream that one forgot minutes of awaking. Regardless, the area appeared completely undisturbed As the cloud of smoke had covered the field, Yuzume had launched herself backwards, the wire slipping between her fingers as she put distance between herself and the rogue shinobi. From the tension in the line she knew she had managed to wound him, but then it had gone suddenly slack. Blinded by the thick curtain of gray, she had been forced to wait until the smoke dissipated before making her next move. She balanced on the balls of her feet, her body primed to react to whatever attack he may have prepared under the cover of the smoke. But only stillness greeted her. Thin wisps of remnant cloud drifted weakly in the wind that brushed over the wildflowers, and Yuzume’s pulse was quick beneath her skin. Yet their opponent had vanished, seemingly into midair. Nothing stirred. She began to think quickly, her gaze darting over the field, searching for signs of movement. Retrieval of the corpse had now become secondary with the threat of an unseen attack. Even when faced with two Anbu, she doubted the man had been so cowardly as to simply abandon the body and flee, meaning he was still at large and no doubt plotting to strike. Yuzume pressed her teeth down on her thumb as she considered the implications of his disappearance. The entire situation was suspicious, and smelled of a set-up. The sooner she relocated the adversary, the less chance they had of being struck a fatal blow. Attack was a certainty. “He disappeared,” Kama said flatly, the disgust in his voice evident. Her train of thought was disrupted, and she recalled the impulsiveness of his earlier actions. This was why she hated being assigned with regular Anbu operatives: the emotion they displayed in combat was appalling. “I will verify the body. Search the area for any signs of the assassin.” She instructed quickly. Your behavior here will be addressed later. She added silently. Kama flickered from sight, but Yuzume did not at once turn to inspect the corpse. She coiled the wire she had thrown around her hand as she picked up her knife, keeping careful watch of the field around her. Neither the body nor the area immediately surrounding it seemed to be tampered with, but Yuzume could not help but recall the time she had seen a man dismembered by a landmine after making the same assumption. While it was unlikely that the body had been laced with explosives considering its value, it was still possible that she would be exposing herself to a trap. Yuzume settled herself and began to reanalyze the events that had occurred leading up to the shinobi’s disappearance. From the blood left on the tip of the blade and the splash of red that interrupted the even yellow of the chrysanthemums she determined that her attack had indeed found its mark. But the trail ended where the knife had landed, and Yuzume’s eyes narrowed. It was obvious the shinobi had not escaped on foot, and the fact that he had used a smoke cloud to cover his tracks suggested that he had wanted to conceal whatever jutsu he had employed. He was not hidden in the ground, otherwise he would have struck her by now, of that she was fairly certain. He could have used Body Flicker to remove himself from her proximity, but she was also fairly certain that he would have been seen by the other Anbu who was acting as a look-out in the trees bordering the field: unless he was swift enough to not be seen, in which case the knife would have been avoidable and the smoke bomb redundant. For a brief moment she considered the possibility of Space-Time jutsu, but the idea was improbable due to the sheer rarity of such techniques. Thus the only logical conclusion was that he had used some form of transformation or camouflage, which she realized should have been obvious to her from the beginning. And considering the surroundings, his options were somewhat limited. He could have disguised himself amongst the flowers themselves or masked himself as any number of small creature hidden beneath the canopy of golden petals. But he was still there... he had to be. Soon after reaching that conclusion, Yuzume’s course of action became clear to her. The most efficient way to flush out a snake in the grass, after all, would be to burn the field itself. First, however, she would be forced to remove the body in order to avoid incinerating it along with everything else. With that goal firmly in her mind, she made her way back to where the body lay in its bed of flowers. She paused, and her eyes widened as a sudden thought dawned upon her. It was simple, elegant, and entirely possible. And there her reasoning faltered, for as soon as her mind had settled upon the most probable option she was rigid in adhering to it, even to the point of foregoing further investigation. Still, there was a slight chance that she had been wrong in her deduction, and as such only one question remained: how to expose the shinobi without damaging the body. That, however, was a dilemna quickly solved. Starting with the symbol for “ram” Yuzume quickly formed a series of hand signals, which ended with her fingers folded in the position of “bird.” As hypocritical as it may have seemed, there was the hint of a smirk in the corner of her mouth as the earth opened up around where the corpse lay. A circle widened beneath it and she gradually transported it below the surface of the ground as walls of dirt rose and coalesced above it before folding closed. She layered several meters of earth above the body before gently smoothing everything over in a nondescript mound. She straightened up, the field silent around her, and frowned. Despite the confidence she had displayed, a subtle twinge of doubt nagged at the back of her mind. She had trusted her instincts, relying upon her own observations, but in the end the only thing beyond the reach of failure was logic. In other words, there was a chance that she had failed to cover all of her bases. The wind whispered through the delicate, swaying heads of the chrysanthemums one last time as she raised her hands and clasped her fingers together tightly. She inhaled deeply, calmly, as if in quiet meditation. "Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!" In the next instant she breathed out a stream of flames which poured out in a singular destructive sphere of orange and red, catching the flowers around her in a wide radius. The fire ballooned and ignited in an instant, crackling in the dry stems and dust and basking the field in the glow of red and gold flames: consuming all around her. The fly watched the masked shinobi dismiss her subordinates through its various lenses. It seemingly danced upon the corpse, climbing across the victim's kimono before resting on his finger. Awaiting silently until she approached the victim, which was when it buzzed off towards the contemplating shinobi. It landed a couple flowers behind her while she spent precious time pondering the disappearance of her opponent. Although the opportunity seemed ripe to amateur assassins, those who bore the crest of Kirigakure upon their person possessed a higher understanding of murder. And so the fly rested on the golden petals while the wind blew peacefully, sending leaves spiraling from the surrounding trees and animals running about. A thick, choking silence filled the atmosphere while she stood alone before the decomposing corpse. Although the fly followed the enigmatic beauty who cautiously approached the corpse; the opportunity had fully matured when she began her earthen assault. The pounding, twisting and coiling earth provided a disguise for the already silent assassin who seemingly appeared where the fly once hovered. The familiar seal branded upon his skin activated once more, conjuring the infamous golden blade crafted by the Cáo elders into his grasp. His body shimmered while she began her secondary assault; darting in utter silence and bloodthirstiness toward the flame spewing shinobi until he launched himself into a powerful lunge. Although thrusting from behind, the Kirigakure assassin pointed its extremely sharpened tip at her heart. The rapier possessed a double edge that allowed its master to cut with a surgeons proficiency. However, the sword's edges also increased the piercing power of his thrust exponentially. Allowing his strikes to smoothly slice into an opponents body with little resistance, even cutting into the armor worn by various warriors. Truly a blade customized for its master, it was a sword that denied the victim a chance to neglect its master's will. Should the sword enter her body, the strength which Dǎiyì used to propel himself would cause the blade to continue onwards until the golden swept hilt touched her back. "You should really watch for flies on the wall." Yuzume remained completely oblivious to the danger behind her, unaware that she had, once again, been outmaneuvered by the skilled shinobi. She could not hear him over the roar of snapping flames, nor could she see him striking from behind. While she had remained alert and on-guard, having expected her adversary to move, her senses were no match for Kiri’s signature assassination technique. The tip of the blade neared her heart, the strike meant to kill. But in the end that is what saved her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she felt, at last, the murderous intent in Daiyi’s sword. She attempted to turn in the last second, not to intercept an attack if which she had no knowledge of but simply to discover the root of her unease. Still, it was far too late. With merciless impunity the sword found its mark. Yuzume felt the sharp, white-hot pain, and saw the length of the blade protruding from her center as the assassin whispered into her ear. “Bastard,” she responded, gasping for breath. She took immediate stock of her situation. While her knowledge of anatomy was not as precise as that of a healing or poison specialist’s, it was extensive enough for her to realize that she had escaped definite mortality only by the narrowest of margins. From the blade’s position beneath her ribs and to the right of her spine, she could see that he had obviously meant for the blade to pierce her heart. In an instant Yuzume had flicked out the blade concealed beneath her forearm guard, driving her elbow back towards her assailant. At the same time she leapt forwards, freeing herself of the sword and putting distance between her and the other shinobi. She stumbled forwards, still fighting for breath as dark blood pooled between her fingers, indicating a punctured liver. While not immediately fatal, the injury was critical, and she knew she would have to move quickly if she wanted to survive. Yuzume vanished from the field, seeking protection beneath the deep boughs of the forest, where she collapsed against the trunk of a tree. Having reappeared near the other member of her team he immediately spotted her and rushed to her side. “I messed up,” she explained as he wordlessly placed his hands over her abdomen before coating it in the green glow of healing chakra. Neither of them commented on the gravity of their situation, realizing the success of the mission now hung in the balance by the thinnest of threads. Yuzume reached beneath her mask and switched on her headset. “Kama, I’ve been hit,” she told the other operative, “Your priority is to retrieve the body before the hostile does. I buried it in the same location… be careful.” Her instructions were delivered with tense urgency. “Understood,” he replied through slight static. Yuzume clenched her teeth and closed her eyes for a moment as the immensity of her failure dawned upon her. Idiot. She berated herself silently.
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