NNS: Chapter Three
Chapter 3: Best Laid Plans
Ocean pulls me close
And whispers in my ear
The destiny I've chose
All becoming clear
The currents have their say
The time is drawing near
Washes me away
Makes me disappear
-The Great Below, Nine Inch Nails
- - - - - - -
Waterfall’s industrious capital city glittered magnificently to rival the stars in the heavens. Even though Waterfall was a smaller nation in the alliance with the great country of Fire, modernization was a pride well suited to its citizens. Many viewed it as a trendy vacation and relaxation spot where decadence and pleasure thrived at the sound of money and wealth. Lavish inns and entertainment spots sprung up at every turn, making it hard for the excited traveler to choose. Businessmen and women, people of all trade flocked to the city, hoping to get their dreams and deepest desires fulfilled.
The city showed no signs of retiring beyond twelve midnight even after the three-man ANBU team made base in the Pearl. The inn was a decent and affordable establishment to stay, offering up to three beds in one room with the larger suites being on the top floor. Although there were three of them to accommodate, the most ideal room for mission surveillance only offered two beds.
Ino sighed heavily and laid across the mattress. Staring at the patterned ceiling above her, she heard Akamaru shuffling about as Kiba and Neji headed toward the window.
“The two-bed room is adequate enough,” she sat up with a shrug. “Kiba’s more comfortable on the floor anyway.”
“Touche,” Kiba replied tartly.
Neji ignored them both and began undoing the pack that was strapped to Akamaru’s side. While the blonde kunoichi made her way toward the window to draw back the curtains, Kiba seized the desk from the other side of the room and the two chairs beside it. He positioned the furniture to face the window and turned to see Neji coming over to set the pack on the table.
“Room 17D,” the ANBU commander said pointedly. His teammates followed his gaze beyond the glass and across the populated street, toward the Aihara. It was one of the more expensive hotels in the capital city, known for its horizontal expanse rather than vertical. As the Byakugan formed its veined network around his eyes, Neji retrieved a pair of binoculars from the pack and handed them to Ino. With her vision magnified, her gaze fell across the street to one of the Aihara master rooms.
“That’s his room alright,” she commented, seeing two of Fukao’s recognizable bodyguards. She passed the binoculars to Kiba as he handed her additional photos of the businessman’s personnel.
“I thought he always traveled with four. He’s missing half of his security blanket in there,” Ino scrutinized.
“He has a greater number. The four men in these photos are just his personal set,” answered Neji, fixing his gaze at the suite’s double doors. “Two are inside while the remaining two are stationed in the hallway. It appears they’re not going to be moving any time soon.”
“I have to say he’s got good taste,” Kiba uttered nonchalantly. “Oh look, he has a lady friend…”
Ino snorted as she flipped through the pictures, “Escort service. Capital city is rife with them.”
The target was perfectly at home in his lodgings and without suspicion that he was being observed by the three-man team. Through Kiba’s binoculars he was having a lighthearted discussion with his female escort until one of his bodyguards leaned over to speak into his ear. The gesture was followed with a nod from Fukao.
The veins around Neji’s eyes disappeared when he pulled Fukao’s agenda from his robes and placed it on the desk with the rest of the unpacked equipment.
“This is his agenda for tomorrow?” Kiba asked, exchanging the binoculars for the notice.
“Yes. There’s an early start taking him to one of his shipping warehouses. It’s where the delay occurred, so he’ll be seeing to it personally,” replied Neji.
“Most of his time is going to be spent at the warehouse and the office anyway,” added Ino, reading the schedule beside Kiba’s shoulder. “If he’s that predictable, he’s doing us a favor.”
Neji extracted a sleek laptop and two more black cases from Akamaru’s pack. One he opened to reveal an array of minuscule transceiver equipment and the other a set of wireless earpieces. Turning to Kiba, he also threw him a Jounin vest.
“We need audio surveillance fully operational in that room before committing to a strategy. Fukao will only be in town for three days at the most.”
“Sure thing, boss,” Kiba saluted offhandedly. After shrugging on the vest, his hands made quick work of the equipment by separating them amongst the vest’s compartments.
As Neji grabbed an earpiece, Kiba had placed one in his own ear while sauntering toward the door.
“I’m on channel three,” he threw back over his shoulder.
Ino watched the door close behind her more expressive comrade as she sank into the bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied the ANBU commander taking a seat while unhooking his kunai holster. The clang of steel was muffled by the pouch’s fabric as it was laid down on the desk’s wooden surface. At once, Neji had turned the laptop on and began setting the surveillance program to connect Kiba’s ministrations across the street.
Dim beams from the lamp’s glow were littered across the carpeted floor. Aside from the patter of keystrokes coming from Neji, the only other sound was the stifled commotion of the populace outside the window. It was the silence between the two Konoha ninja that was deafening.
Ino’s body craved sleep but she knew S-Class assignments rarely surrendered any. Her involvement in the last special mission was a month ago. While being selected for certain tasks came down to the Hokage, Ino had been thankful to receive at least thirty days without an S-Class duty. It was never that she performed poorly-missions were still a matter of taste like all other things.
Speaking of taste, Ino’s wandering thoughts echoed and turned sour. Her eyes drifted down from the ceiling and landed on Neji’s back.
She couldn’t remember when Sakura stopped mentioning the ANBU commander altogether. He had been an occasional subject during the time she and Sasuke were on one of their off periods. Ino had absently attributed it to what she thought was Sakura’s boredom. At one point an amusing discussion was held between the two kunoichi about the ‘nocturnal expertise’ of selected male peers. The conversation included a barrage of guffaws and unladylike laughter as each poor soul was put under speculation. It wasn’t until Ino suggested the stoic and emotionless Neji that Sakura had stopped laughing.
Thinking back on their conversation, Ino considered partial responsibility for that nonsense with the Hyuuga scion. However, the thought of Sakura’s strange attraction as being her own damn fault made it easier.
After that day Sakura seemed to have created a mess behind the scenes but was adamantly opposed to admitting it. She stopped speaking to her blonde counterpart about any subject relating to relationships. However, Ino didn’t forego her own theories about Sakura’s string of encounters with Neji. Her friend and rival was good at covering her tracks but she was hardly flawless. While Ino was never one hundred percent sure what transpired between the two, she knew there must have been an emotion toll-and she could pinpoint it right before Sakura began another period with Sasuke. By then the petal-haired ninja had appeared emotionally shut down.
Ino observed as Neji put two fingers against his earpiece while giving muted instructions to Kiba on the other end. Tilting her head with a curious frown, Ino questioned what in blazes compelled Sakura to encounter him as often as she did. Sparkling conversation was out of the question-Neji was hardly known for entertaining banter or speech. He would have been marginally attractive if it wasn’t for the constant sulk sitting upon his lips. Ino winced at the ANBU commander’s back and wiped her nose absently.
“What’s taking him so long?” she spoke, desperate to shatter the silence.
“Line configuration.”
“I did ask Tsunade to switch in Shino or Shikamaru…” Ino then muttered. Either of the two would have been faster at Kiba’s assignment.
When Neji failed to respond, the blonde kunoichi sat up on her elbows and fixed him with narrowed eyes.
“I see you’ve sufficiently held off in asking about her,” she stated suddenly. The hint of a smirk colored Ino’s tone.
Then she waited, silently and expectantly for a reaction-a twitch in his demeanor, a clench of a fist or even a bat of an eyelash. The only reply she received was the slight tapping of his earpiece and another round on the keyboard.
Ino pursed her lips and sat up straight. While she ultimately knew that Neji would never enlighten her, Ino’s curiosity forced the use of harder tactics.
“I can only guess that it was good while it lasted. Whatever it was…” she continued nonchalantly. “Can’t blame her for getting bored easily, though. It’s not like you had anything in common. I’m sure deep down…she’s apologized to you.”
A few feet away, Neji inhaled slowly through his nose as his pallid eyes remained fixed on the laptop screen. The program was up and running but the connection was still to be made by Kiba across the street.
The source of Ino’s spite was unclear to him but he deemed it unimportant in lieu of present activities. Although a corner of his mind suddenly questioned if her prodding was a result of her usual smarmy streak or out of insult because she knew about his history with Sakura. Nonetheless, the entire ordeal shouldn’t have mattered.
“Online,” Kiba’s voice drifted through his earpiece as the laptop screen filled with the visual frequency of the voices of those present in Fukao Gennai’s suite.
“Good,” Neji replied, ignoring the disgruntled kunoichi a few feet behind him.
Removing the earpiece, the Hyuuga reached for the set of headphones he connected earlier to the laptop and put them on. The veined network of the Byakugan appeared once more as he focused his attention on Fukao.
Ino had sighed and accepted defeat while loosely concluding the genius that was Hyuuga Neji would one day implode. She finally stood up and joined Neji at the desk to await their comrade’s return. Arguing with Kiba seemed much more fulfilling than talking to a brick wall.
The wireless bug Kiba had planted was situated just below Fukao’s windowsill and was set to a radius that covered the suite, allowing all form of communication to be tapped. By the time Kiba arrived back in the room, a recording had already begun to capture any information they would use to their advantage.
“What’d I miss?” he asked as Akamaru barked alongside him.
“The female escort left,” Ino told him offhandedly.
“He declined her suggestion for another rendezvous because of other pressing matters,” said Neji passively. “He has scheduled a dinner for tomorrow that doesn’t appear on the agenda we have.”
“Fantastic. So we’re moving in?”
“Perhaps.”
Fukao’s voice was captured through the headphones and the sound was comparable to the gritty rock that lined the edge of a waterfall. Rich as he was, his language betrayed a sense of crassness, signaling that his roots never came from money with class. His was a low voice but a slight wheeze was emitted after every sentence he finished. He coughed loudly and then called for one of his men.
“Tell Castor that I’ll be accepting his invitation for tomorrow evening. Though he told me earlier it was going to be the two of us, ask him to make it three instead. I want him to meet another friend of mine…”
“Of course, sir.”
As his burly associate exited the room, Fukao had nodded at his other bodyguard and headed toward the master bedroom to retire.
“We may have an opening,” spoke Neji, removing the headset.
- - - - - - -
The break of dawn had the ANBU in preparation for what could have been the only opportunity in Fukao’s schedule. To lay the foundation for operational proceedings, the team had decided to send one ninja to tail the businessman on his affairs for the day. Ino had traded off the standard ANBU uniform once more for civilian dress and a camera to pose as a tourist. Equipped with an earpiece and a hidden pouch of kunai, she followed the small battalion of bodyguards around Fukao until he stepped into a carriage. As the agenda previously revealed, he was on his way to one of the major warehouses in Waterfall’s capital city. Ino then had signaled a rickshaw for pursuit.
At Neji’s directive, she observed if he followed his schedule to the latter. Dinner with his associates that evening was an unexpected opportunity and the ANBU wanted to make sure if the chance would still present itself. Ino had pursued the target directly to the warehouse and managed to invade the body of an oblivious crate-mover to further pick up the trail. After hiding her real body outside between endless rows of crates, a simple genjutsu technique had it covered to look like nothing more than part of the industrial scenery. Hurrying to catch up, Ino utilized her new vessel’s handprint to access the door.
Acting as a crate-mover was easy enough but following Fukao without seeming suspicious was another matter. However, by the time the clock hit noon, Fukao had received confirmation from one of his bodyguards that a man named Castor Fraega accepted his suggestion for another associate to join them at dinner. Through her vessel’s eyes, Ino had seen that Fukao was pleased and ßdivulged the location for the evening. The Aihara’s main restaurant was crowned with five stars and Fukao would dine at nothing less. She immediately relayed the information back to an intent Neji and Kiba back at the Pearl.
It was mid-afternoon when Neji called Ino back to the hotel. With a little recon, he and Kiba produced information on the Aihara’s award winning Masthead, which was situated in the horizontal hotel’s left wing. Upon Ino’s return, Fukao’s reservation time was verified and all that was left to do was to carry out the rest of the assignment.
“He should be returning soon,” Neji spoke, glancing down at his watch. The digital numbers glared six o’clock. Fukao’s reservation was at seven thirty.
The sun was dipping below the horizon as the ANBU strapped on the last of their black and gray armor. Beside Kiba, Akamaru’s ready noises filled the entire room with the familiar pre-mission tension. After packing up the necessary surveillance equipment, Neji had pulled the mask of a ram over his face and headed toward the window. With Akamaru at his side, Kiba had followed suit, putting the mask of a wolf in place as Ino did so with the mask of a sparrow.
“Watch your step,” Kiba commented as Neji crouched on the open windowsill. The noise of bustling carriages and voices cascaded into the once quiet room.
With a mighty burst from his legs, Neji had sprung above the unmindful populace below and landed cleanly on the cables that weaved the buildings together. The other two ANBU didn’t spare an extra moment and joined him in speeding along the wires with searing velocity toward the Aihara.
The air was cool and crisp against Neji’s shoulders as the sound of his breathing echoed in his ears. For a second, his eyes glanced down toward the street as the Byakugan manifested across his features. Fukao was still nowhere in sight, giving his team time to make final preparations.
The three-man team swung below the wires upon reaching the horizontal hotel. The expansive window of the master suite’s bedroom was cranked open by Kiba and the ANBU slipped through undetected into the businessman’s abode. The room was dim and the light low from the disappearing traces of dusk. The air hung thickly around them with the scent of cigars and scotch.
“We’ll wait here,” said Neji. “The Masthead is black tie and he’ll be retreating to his suite to change attire. If he follows protocol, two bodyguards will remain at the doors. The other two we can take care of inside. Fukao can be subdued once he steps into the room.”
The next half hour was spent on a final run through of the evening as the ANBU rendered the surveillance equipment online once again. The laptop was situated on a nearby desk while Kiba, Ino and Neji checked the connection of their earpieces for the last time. As Kiba tightened his right arm guard, he caught the sudden perk of Akamaru’s ears. His partner’s eyes narrowed, head snapping toward the bedroom door with a long, drawn-out sniff.
“Incoming,” Kiba uttered as his own ears picked up the sound of the turning lock.
- - - - - - -
“I’ve forgotten how dreadful the traffic is in this city,” came Fukao’s drawl. He gave an exasperated sigh as a hand of pudgy, ring-filled fingers swept the toupee on his head.
“I asked the driver to make it back as quickly as possible,” mentioned a bodyguard.
Fukeo threw him an irritated glance while the door closed behind his other two men in the hallway.
“Good intentions are never enough as usual,” he almost sneered.
The problematic delay at the warehouse took all day to investigate and the businessman’s nerves were raw with exasperation. While the better part of his brain wanted no more than to board up for the night, he did promise an evening with an associate in less than an hour’s time.
He cast his trench coat on the sofa and heavily made his way toward the bedroom, leaving the remaining two men outside to take a seat. Thoughts of firing and hiring new lackeys flitted lazily around his mind when he opened the door to the quiet darkness. The light from the main room cast a long spotlight toward the king-sized bed, revealing that housekeeping had already taken place. He paid the rest of the cleanliness no heed as he closed the door and reached for the light switch.
Kanashibari no Jutsu.
He heard a whisper as a faint flash of light erupted out of the corner of his eye. He was unable to react or comprehend as piercing fingers sent a consuming sensation of numbness into the base of his skull. His beady eyes widened in the darkness, the sound of distress caught in his windpipe as his limbs twitched outward. The sensation spread down through his body as if blood was being drained from every corner of flesh. When his legs gave way, Fukao slumped onto the floor in a pile of nerveless bones.
The fear that gripped him multiplied as a pair of rough hands shot out from behind and sat him up. The cool exterior of a ram’s mask brushed along his cheek and he cowered away, only to find a wolf and sparrow materialize in front of him.
“Good evening,” said the sparrow. “I’m going to borrow a little something.”
He barely noticed the lightning fast movement of her gloved fingers and stared instead at the small protruding beak of the mask. The last he saw were her hands creating a circular shape, aimed directly between his frightened eyes. All became dark as his consciousness was devoured by an invading force, casting him into the abyss of a cerebral prison.
A second later, Ino blinked her eyes. The first sight she noticed was the darkened but embossed floral pattern on the ceiling above her. She felt weighted and almost tired, discovering how difficult breathing was when lying on the master bedroom’s carpeted floor. Her eyes shifting to the side, seeing the body of a blonde-haired ANBU in a sparrow mask sitting against the wall. The hands from behind released her from the paralyzing jutsu and helped her up.
Neji silently signaled Kiba toward the door. The wolf then looked at Akamaru and executed a quick pattern of hand seals.
“Juujin Bunshin,” he said. At once his canine partner transformed into a copy of himself. “Henge…”
Both Kiba and his companion got to their feet in the guise of the two bodyguards that were waiting outside the bedroom door. One more nod from the ANBU commander sent them exiting the room as Ino made her way over to the closet to rummage through Fukao’s collection of designer suits.
Outside, Kiba and Akamaru strolled comfortably toward the two targets that were busying themselves with a drink. One look at their eerily duplicated forms sent the burly men into a frenzy to protect themselves. But the ANBU duo had disposed of Fukao’s associates by swiftly relocating behind them and dealing rapid blows to both their heads. Both guards had slumped lifelessly to the floor without much sound, leaving Akamaru and Kiba to deposit them in the coat closet next to the door.
In the guise of a well-muscled redhead, Akamaru sniffed delicately at the front door and turned toward Kiba, letting him know Fukao’s other two men were still outside and apparently unaware.
Kiba replied by putting a finger to his lips.
“Just leave the talking to me,” he uttered quickly.
Spinning on his heel, he retreated to the bedroom. The door was now open and the light was on as Neji handed a black silk bowtie back to Ino. The kunoichi then secured it around her trunk of a neck while the ANBU commander tapped the keys on the laptop. Instantly, a view of Kiba at the door appeared on the screen when she faced her comrade’s direction.
“You shouldn’t have any trouble with interference,” Neji said, coming back over to examine the bowtie again.
“I’ll be sitting right in front of them. You can’t miss a thing,” Ino retorted. She winced slightly, feeling uncomfortable with the low rumble of her voice and the wheeze that accompanied it.
“At least look convincing,” Kiba smirked, crossing his arms. “It’s not that hard to go from looking like a self-important shrew to a self-important asshole. Thought it’d be easy for you to make the transition.”
Ino rolled her eyes and Kiba found it incredibly uncharacteristic to see Fukao do so.
“Well, your job is to make sure you kiss every inch of my fat ass tonight or it won’t look convincing,” she smiled sourly.
Neji cut Kiba off hastily by lifting his mask over his head. “We’re already late,” he said tonelessly and turned toward Ino. “Make sure you retrieve the necessary information that Waterfall authorities require-operation of the next shipment, the route or people that may be involved. But avoid prolonging the subject or we might encounter suspicion.”
“Alright,” she replied. “Just as long as you’re recording it.”
Ino exited the door with Kiba at her heels while Neji tuned the audio on the laptop and tapped his earpiece. Within the screen, he saw Akamaru patiently waiting at the door as Kiba rattled on from behind that he’ll be in close proximity while Ino ate dinner with Fukao’s associates.
Outside, Akamaru opened the front door for the blonde kunoichi as she adopted the self-important sneer that Kiba so blatantly suggested. The other two bodyguards standing in the hallway immediately straightened up and gave her a nod.
An abrupt vibration and melody almost caused Ino’s heart to jump into her chest. A moment later, her hand slipped into her blazer’s inner pocket and pulled out a cell phone. The name framed within the screen glared a spiteful blue and winked urgently up at her.
“Yes?” she answered curtly.
“Is this any way to treat an old friend?” the voice on the other end was as smooth and dark as liquor. “By keeping them waiting?”
Ino unconsciously swallowed but managed to crack a smirk as Fukao’s two bodyguards kept a keen watch on her.
“Castor,” she said casually. “You’re not supposed to be calling somebody who arrives fashionably late. A few more minutes wouldn’t do you any harm. I’m on my way.”
“I still believe you must have been a woman in a past life. It would be embarrassing if the guest you asked me to add to the reservation arrived before you.”
Ino glanced sideways at Kiba. “Five minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting,” the silver-tongued voice replied.
After slipping the cell phone back into her breast pocket, Ino flicked her head demandingly and Fukao’s two bodyguards started forward.
Ino and her four-man battalion sauntered through the hallway and back in the room Neji watched people scatter off to the sides as the businessman’s unit continued through the black marble lobby. They walked amongst the rich and elite, swerving around baggage and clumps of visitors headed for the front desk. Leaving the lobby led them toward a long corridor that consisted of boardrooms and various halls. Down the hallway was a set of heavily gilded double doors with an embellished sign that made it known as The Masthead restaurant.
Upon her approach, the maitre ‘d had already spotted and recognized them and came to greet them graciously.
“Sir, thank you so much for coming,” he said with a beaming smile. “Mr. Castor Fraega is already at your private booth.”
“And the other?” Ino added.
“He has not arrived but I’m sure will be joining you shortly. Tonight we have a complimentary bottle of wine for every table in the private area and if there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Very well.”
Ino remained straight-faced until a look of boredom passed her pudgy features. She brushed by the man, determined to be oblivious to the restaurant’s gesture.
A slight nervousness crawled up her spine because she hoped by listening to Castor’s voice it would be easy to pinpoint him in a room filled with wealthy people. The private area was sectioned off to the far back by a parted curtain of gossamer fabric. Once she stepped through to the area, an odd mix of relief and discomfort washed over her when her eyes fell on a pallid face that sat furthest away from the curtain’s opening.
Her four bodyguards parted ways as she stepped forward to greet the reserved man. Kiba and Akamaru hung back in silence, examining every inch of the setup.
Ino opened her arms slowly. “Castor. Excellent of you to invite me out.”
“Excellent of you to actually appear, Gennai,” came the velvet reply.
The seated man uncrossed long, skeletal fingers from his chin and eyed Ino thoroughly as she slid into the booth. His roving pupils were a turquoise that gleamed with a touch of golden flecks. She couldn’t surmise if it was a natural occurrence or from the illusion of candlelight. His eyes were set into sunken sockets under a hooded brow and were easily the brightest form of life in his pale complexion. His cheekbones were high and his nose aristocratic but his top lip was thin, leading to an unbalanced-looking mouth. There were few lines on his gaunt face-mostly around his eyes and lips but his jaw was strong and set. He was clean-shaven; his short, dark hair was slicked back almost severely. There was no real evidence of his age even with the two bold streaks of gray painted above his ears.
Castor shot a peculiar glance up at Fukao’s four bodyguards and turned back to Ino with a mysterious smile.
“It was too much for me to hope that you would leave your watchdogs at home for the evening.”
“Oh? I had no idea we were discussing business tonight,” Ino replied. She shifted her gaze momentarily to Kiba and Akamaru, while opening her menu.
“In the past, the upbringing of business seems more like your forte rather than mine,” Castor continued. “But since you were adamant about introducing me to another associate of yours, tell me why again is he worth my time?”
Ino faked a dry chuckle and motioned the bodyguards away, specifically directing it to her two comrades in disguise. Fukao’s real men paused a moment and then maneuvered around to leave first. However, Kiba had shot Ino a glance, telling her with his eyes that he’d be right around the corner.
Ino had turned back to Castor as Kiba and Akamaru took station near the entrance of the private area.
“You’re still paranoid,” Castor suddenly said, fingering a glass of red wine.
“If you remember what I do, you’d see the justification,” replied Ino.
A few feet away, at the curtain’s opening, waiters flitted back and forth in front of Kiba and his canine partner. He couldn’t help but steal a glance back at the furthest booth, anxious to see what was transpiring.
“Relax,” a stoic voice sounded through his earpiece.
“That guy is unsettling,” Kiba murmured through the transmission. “I’m just worried he might ask her something specific.”
“Stand by,” Neji reiterated.
The Hyuuga scion’s attention never left the screen. His outlook, which was sited on Ino’s bowtie, took in a frontal view of Fukao’s associate. Neji’s eyes narrowed a fraction when he saw the ashen man’s attention flick to the screen’s exact position momentarily, leaving the ANBU commander to wonder if Castor noticed that he was being watched.
Kiba’s gaze landed on the maitre ‘d at the front of the restaurant as he courteously welcomed another guest. As white-gloved hands pointed the man toward the private area, Kiba noticed that one of Fukao’s bodyguards left their station alongside the other to meet the new guest halfway.
“…furthest booth from the private entrance, Sir,” the bodyguard’s voice drifted back toward Kiba.
The man only gave an affirmative nod as both Kiba and Akamaru stood by in silence. A feral ANBU eye watched him carefully as he advanced on the table at the far end. He possessed average build; square around the shoulders but not exceedingly tall. Middle-aged with sandalwood hair, his face held uninteresting features consisting of a rounded nose and close-set gray eyes.
“I apologize for my late arrival,” he proclaimed when he arrived at the booth.
“Syvan Vedka. My…what a pleasant surprise,” Castor spoke, the corner of his unbalanced lips lifting slightly.
Ino’s eyebrows raised in genuine alarm as she looked back and forth between them. Earlier at the warehouse, she’d heard details concerning her company at Fukao’s dinner-one Castor and the other Syvan. It was unexpected they had prior relations, leaving her to ponder if Fukao himself knew that little detail.
“Small world,” replied Syvan, sliding into the booth. He smirked at Ino and added, “There’s no need for introductions now.”
“If I had known that you two were familiar with each other I wouldn’t have asked you to add to the reservation,” Ino glanced at Castor.
“Not that either of us mind,” Fukao’s pale associate was matter-of-fact. “This eliminates a meeting we were supposed to have planned in the future.”
Syvan chuckled and signaled a nearby waiter. “I agree. But talking affairs always makes me famished.”
“Are you ready to order gentlemen?” an anxious waiter asked.
Ino eyed the newest member of their table, noting how he didn’t even touch the menu. It suddenly made her nervous, wondering how many times either of Fukao’s associates had dined at The Masthead and if they were expecting a specific reaction from her based on the acquaintance of the place and how often they may have met together like this. While Castor’s presence was unsettling on its own, the added company of Syvan curiously increased the pressure in the air. Determined not to break a sweat, Ino ordered a bottle of Romanee Conti red wine along with dinner to assure them of Fukao’s extravagance.
The conversation before the food arrived consisted of nothing but legal business endeavors, to which Ino found herself almost struggling to respond to-a general series of replies and nothing too precise, lest she gave wrong details and invited suspicion to the table. She still felt Kiba and Akamaru’s presence though their chakra signature, though it was turned down to a minimum. Even after their plates came, Ino had forced forkfuls into her mouth just to appear convincing in that slovenly manner that Fukao identified with. However, discussion about the slave trade did not come up.
Back in Fukao’s suite, Neji had been sitting still for almost an hour listening intently for any sort of hint. His finger traveled back and forth between the record button and other keys as he watched another forkful of filet mignon pass above Ino’s bowtie. The three had been sitting at the table together for a while now and even after Ino’s attempts to push the conversation towards ‘special cargo’, the other two men hadn’t picked up-and Neji didn’t know whether it was purposely or not.
“Have another glass Syvan,” Ino said, grabbing the dark bottle.
“I really mustn’t. I said a year ago I would stop drinking but now and again I tend to slip. Tonight would be one of those.”
“Go on,” Castor’s smooth tone urged him. “You’ll need it before you come visit me in Lightning.”
Syvan’s eyebrow lifted in interest. “Is that so?”
Castor’s turquoise pupils flickered down a moment as lengthy, nimble fingers caressed the graceful slope of the wine glass. The ghost of a knowing smile played at the corners of his lips when he lifted it in a gesture toward Syvan.
“I have to thank Gennai again for making this easy. My schedule doesn’t allow many leisurely meetings.”
“Anytime,” Ino replied calmly, keeping her questioning tone at bay.
“You see,” stated Syvan as he looked at Ino. “Castor was already familiar with my…other work aside from neurosurgery and he had wanted to chat about the possibility of my recruitment.”
“And to my knowledge you haven’t agreed yet,” Castor mentioned quietly.
“You hardly gave me a chance. How do you expect a yes or no with barely a speck of detail?”
Castor sipped his wine and appeared thoughtful, then gave an amused laugh at Syvan’s insistence.
He turned unblinking eyes to Ino and said instead, “How did your last shipment fare?”
It was as if a hole opened in the pit of Ino’s stomach and the contents of her gut were rapidly disappearing. She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry and her mind was suddenly blank. Her gaze scanned the table and fell on her wine glass; she reached for it slowly, taking drink in order to buy some time.
“Recording,” Neji’s nonchalant tone sounded softly through her earpiece. “Keep calm and repeat every word I say.”
The Romanee Conti burned fresh down her throat as she put the glass down delicately.
“Quite well,” Ino replied in repetition to the ANBU commander’s words. “It turns out the delay we experienced at our major warehouse here had nothing to do with the shipment you have in mind.”
“That’s good news,” said Castor, his smile eerie and disconcerting. “I suppose you have cargo for me.”
“Perhaps.”
“I see. In the event that you do, I’ll be collecting at Tsuda Harbor at the end of the week.”
Ino folded her ringed fingers together and nodded calmly as Castor slipped a hand into his blazer.
“Pier six,” he said, producing a card. “Nine pm.”
“Done,” Ino replied as her eyes caught onto the white sliver as it was placed on the table. She expected it to be passed to her but was pushed toward Syvan instead.
“This is all the information you’ll need for now,” spoke Castor.
At the other end of the table, Syvan scrutinized him in interest before looking down at the card.
“Chariot?” he asked, instantly perplexed.
Castor flashed a mouthful of narrow teeth after polishing off the rest of his wine. A vibrating noise was heard and he swiftly pulled out a cell phone. He glanced at it once, then stood up and began to move to the end of the booth.
“Then I’ll see you soon. I won’t take no for an answer,” he proclaimed, glancing at Syvan as he slipped the phone back in his pocket.
“You’re leaving?” Ino asked. “A shame, especially for this wine.”
“I’m needed back. I’ve already been in this godforsaken town for three days. Will you walk me outside, friend?”
Ino smiled. “Of course.”
“Then we might as well all turn in,” added Syvan, following suit. “Dinner was delicious as usual.”
The trio moved past the other booths and headed for the opening in the curtains. Beyond the draping fabric, Ino spied the outline of Akamaru and Kiba’s burly figures and felt relieved they were still close by.
“Looks like we’re almost in the clear,” Kiba murmured through transmission. His tone was soft but Neji couldn’t help detect the hidden note of wariness in his voice.
On the laptop screen, the camera’s view wavered with Ino’s footsteps. Ahead was the exit to the private area and a glimpse of both his comrades in disguise. However, Fukao’s other two bodyguards were nowhere to be found.
“Where are they?” the ANBU commander queried, a critical edge to his tone.
Kiba resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Akamaru eyed him attentively while shooting a glance back at the approaching trio of men.
“It’s been fifteen minutes since Akamaru got back from searching for them,” Kiba answered grudgingly. “One took off a bit after that second guy arrived. The other one said he needed to take a piss. Things seemed normal until it got too long so I sent Akamaru after them. But by then Ino and friends looked like they were ready to leave so I called him back. It wouldn’t look right if three-fourths of Fukao’s security unit were missing without his permission.”
Neji’s gaze bore into the screen as Ino passed Kiba. While he trusted Ino to improvise the reasons of why half of Fukao’s security was missing, he didn’t trust the businessman’s two associates to fully accept it as true. It was crucial, even for a while, that they believe Ino’s Fukao was real so that the information would have a clean exchange. The sharp blade of instinct carved through Neji’s system and he knew they needed to delicately speed up the process.
“Get back to the room,” he said. “Now.”
Once more the camera panned toward the man named Syvan, who was exchanging farewells with Castor. But when Ino’s rumbling voice filtered through for some last goodbyes, a pair of viciously bright turquoise eyes glared back through the screen and lingered severely to lock Neji’s gaze. At that moment, the ANBU commander didn’t see a string of fiber wire rapidly come down until it seared forcefully around his neck.
A low rumble hummed through Kiba’s earpiece and was suddenly followed by a crash of static interference.
“Neji,” he hissed, straining to keep his voice down as his attention shot toward Ino a few feet ahead. There was no reply except another static tremor.
“Fuck,” Kiba seethed.
He moved swiftly behind Ino but managed to keep an outer calm as he and Akamaru trailed the three businessmen through the exit of The Masthead. Syvan had departed first and then Castor, who vanished quickly between the throngs of people in the crowding lobby.
“We have a problem,” he told her lowly from behind.
Ino almost whirled around, the look on her rounded face telling him that she already knew about the severed transmission.
- - - - - - -
It was the blur of lights, the embossed ceiling and a struggle of vigorous, suited arms that swam through Neji’s suffocated vision. His guarded wrist had been clamped hard against the side of his neck to prevent the fiber wire from having its full strangling effect. The sound of his own attempts for air coincided with his assailant’s insistent heaves to keep him subdued. The struggle traveled rapidly from the overturned chair and raged violently on the floor. His assailant was no doubt larger and more heavily built and in this position it was easy to see who possessed the upper hand in the grapple.
They rolled unsteadily; Neji’s head was turned toward the door, resting on half his stomach and side as the weight from above aimed to crush him further into the floor. He managed to wrench out his other forearm, stretching as far as it could go toward the steel arm lodged around his neck. While his veined vision could see his opponent hardly had a level of chakra worth noting, in the breath of a second, Neji summoned a wave of chakra into his own hand and grabbed the wrist that held him down. Expelling the lethal dose from every pore in his palm, Neji not only attacked the tenketsu in his aggressor’s arm, but also ruptured the nerves so closely linked to the circulatory pathways.
An agonizing scream was heard from behind and in his opponent’s suddenly vulnerable state, Neji took the opportunity to untangle himself from wire and limbs. He craned his head to see his attacker desperately grasp his arm in pain. Then the ANBU’s outstretched fingers sliced through the air and incapacitated the rest of him.
Shooting to his feet, his pallid vision instantly picked up a second attacker from behind. Lightning fast, his hand had already shot to the holster at his thigh, letting one kunai fly speedily toward the suited man-who barely dodged it. But his assailant looked up, suddenly shocked that the ANBU commander was nowhere to be seen. As Neji materialized below him, the jagged kiss of a blade had penetrated deeply into his chest. He stumbled back messily against the opposite wall, in a state of shock and widened eyes.
Neji’s attention snapped toward the desk and he flew over to extract the recording disk from the laptop. His ears perked at the sound of the front door opening outside and the hurried footsteps coming up to the bedroom door.
Kiba, Ino and Akamaru had burst through without warning, still in disguise and urgency weaved into every fiber of their beings. One look at their commander standing between two lifeless bodies relieved a part of the tension that had obviously built up on their rush back to the suite.
“What-”
But Kiba halted; his words dying on his tongue when he watched Neji’s head drift down to the furious vibrating melody beside the immobile bodyguard’s hand.
“Switch back,” the commander’s gaze darted toward Ino.
No sooner had the sentence left him, a vicious bang echoed loudly through the suite and Kiba only had half a second to turn his head to see six more men plough through the broken entrance. He ungracefully shoved Ino and Akamaru inside, barely making it through the door himself before a dagger almost removed his finger.
Once inside, Kiba and Akamaru released their transformation and steeled themselves against the door.
“Fantastic,” he uttered with jagged teeth gritted tightly. “That was quick. Looks like they’ve practiced this drill before.”
“How could they have known?” Ino questioned.
“Either Fukao’s invested his money wisely or they were warned,” Neji replied, hurriedly packing the laptop. An uncanny surge passed through his bloodstream as Castor’s ashen face filled his racing thoughts.
The door took another unforgiving strike as the company on the opposite side threw their weight viciously against the wood. Kiba and Akamaru took a step back in alarm.
“Ino, any fucking time would be good, alright?” Kiba growled.
There was no time for a smarmy reply as she set her sights on her real body that was still seated against the far wall.
“Kai,” the blonde kunoichi affirmed, crossing her ringed fingers together.
The door suddenly splintered with a ferocious crash and Kiba had stumbled back in a flurry of dust and wood. A great puncture was made through the top of the door, yawning open like a mouth without teeth and revealing the oppositional force behind it. A sliver of a dagger winked humorlessly at Kiba as the front most man took aim. It only took Kiba an instant to realize that the thirsty blade wasn’t meant for him.
“INO!” Kiba whirled around, his dark eyes wide and frantic behind the wolf’s mask.
At the back of his mind he knew she was still in Fukao’s body the moment the dagger crossed the threshold. But the straining seconds between the Shintenshin’s release and the weapon’s path held him captive. He didn’t see Fukao’s body collapsing to the side, just the point of the blade heading straight for his comrade.
A few feet away, Ino suddenly opened her eyes and blinked back the blur. She blinked again as the frantic noises enveloped her consciousness. She saw the mask of a wolf coming swiftly toward her; Kiba’s voice sounded hoarse when he asked her if she was all right. She was about to reply until the warm and steely flavor of blood flooded into her mouth.
Neji snapped back to his comrades.
“Get her out of here,” he ordered.
Another turbulent bang resonated through the air as the door gave way and the six on the other side invaded the room.
“Akamaru!” Kiba called hurriedly.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing Ino’s torso as hurriedly and gently as he could.
It wasn’t until he moved the kunoichi did the stone cold realization dawn upon her. The dagger in her side sweltered excruciatingly as a choked cry was ripped from her lips. Blood marred Akamaru’s creamy fur as Kiba hoisted her quickly on his partner’s back. Grabbing an overturned chair, Kiba shattered the massive expanse of glass to make an escape route. Akamaru didn’t look back as Ino slumped forward, grasping his sides in waning strength.
His partner was fast and vigorous but Kiba couldn’t ignore the sound of voices below the window. He stuck his head outside and saw that Akamaru and Ino were going to be relentlessly pursued.
Hakkeshou Kaiten.
The remaining weaponry thrown against the Hyuuga scion was scattered easily like leaves in a tornado. Upon finishing his lethal spin, Neji let a handful of shuriken fly while his other hand latched onto the sword behind his back. The shuriken clipped his front-most opponent in the shoulder; the other one beside him rushed forward simultaneously, hoping to catch the commander off guard by doubling their force. But Neji’s blade slid hungrily through flesh and bone, devouring each attack that came toward him.
Kiba had hunched and crouched low to assume a feral stance, summoning a beastly strength and speed in the form of his Shikyaku. His two opponents staggered back a second, absently wondering if the ninja in front of them were descending into a rabid state. Though they couldn’t see his face, the sharpening claws that grew out of his gloves was just as unsettling. Nonetheless, they all charged head on, hoping to overpower. Kiba was ready; he leapt quickly to the side, toward the wall and catapulted himself off, adding velocity and brutal momentum to his next strike. His two assailants tumbled from the impact-one flung against the bed’s headboard and the other toward the closet.
Among the suited bodies and broken mirror that littered the carpet floor, one was missing and Neji’s veined network quickly picked up the escape. Four of the six men had diverted the ANBU only for a few seconds for the remaining two to acquire their boss. They were already at the end of the hallway outside the suite.
“They’ve gone after Akamaru and Ino,” Kiba insisted, eyes darting out the window.
“Fukao’s escaped,” replied Neji stonily.
Before Kiba’s mouth could form another curse, Neji reached into his pocket and retrieved a disk. He also fetched the laptop bag from the desk and handed it to his teammate.
“This is the recording. Get it immediately to Waterfall authorities,” he said, shoving it into Kiba’s vest. “Go after Ino and I’ll finish the rest.”
“Neji,” his comrade spoke and took a step forward.
The ANBU commander gave no further order and dove out the shattered window.
Kiba secured the bag to his back and without hesitation, trailed his superior out from the side of the Aihara. He glanced below, seeing Neji take a downward route in order to corner Fukao upon his exit. Kiba had burst into a sprint up toward the wires, following the scent of blood.
From building to building he bounded on all fours, claws scraping against wood and cement surfaces. His speed increased; his joints and muscles emitting a roaring cry as the feral side of him raged in giddy pursuit. His senses sharpened in the wind, bringing close the sound, smell and taste of his target.
Kiba’s head craned from one side to the other, picking up all sorts of sensations. But right and left held different ones. Ino and her pursuers were still continuing a straight path ahead.
In the discernable distance, Kiba’s feral eyes drew the outline of Akamaru’s bounding form and as the ANBU hurdled between buildings, the smell of Ino’s blood grew more potent. When he caught up with the first of Fukao’s men, like a rabid animal he landed virtually untamed on his target-roaring, snarling and claws outstretched in a dire need for violence and flesh.
The messy spray of red painted the concrete below as Kiba’s hands slashed first at his opponent’s throat and then at his gut. He went down with a fearsome shock written into every line of his face.
Kiba hadn’t stopped there. He caught up with the next tracker, repeating the same brutal pattern and working his way up the line until Ino could be seen hanging onto Akamaru for dear life.
“Akamaru!” he called to his partner. Soon there were only two more men that stood between him and his wounded comrade.
The pursuit came to a halt when Akamaru landed heavily on the side of a red-shingled roof. Teeth bared in hostility, a low growl rumbled from the pit of his stomach as he crouched low. He shifted somewhat and tilted to the side, gently letting Ino off while still maintaining his fierce gaze. The moonlight above was cast upon his creamy coat, adding an otherworldly danger to his already predatory stance.
Suddenly the two pursuers seemed unsure of themselves when caught in between a ravenous animal and a man that was a beast himself. They stepped closer together and exchanged panicked glances as both Kiba and Akamaru drew forward, ready to attack. The wind whispered morosely.
“Gatsuuga,” Kiba roared, springing forward.
The ANBU and his canine partner closed the gap rapidly with the two men lodged in the middle. Their cries were drowned out by the rip and howl of beast and man. They spun at top speed, laying waste to everything in their wretched path.
A few feet away, Ino had seated herself against the shingles. The blood that trickled from her vest was almost the exact match of red tiles. Her eyes felt heavy during the journey to the rooftop and the scorch in her side had turned into a dull ache. It was only when she was moved did the pain flare up to remind her that she was still human. The blade had eaten its way too deep and the handle was buried to the hilt.
A half-lidded vision of her comrade sprinting toward her caused her to smile. She could hear him distantly call her name. The impact of his running feet thudded beneath the shingles that she sat upon. Then, she felt him crouch beside her.
“Ino,” he said, grasping her shoulder.
“I’m still here,” she replied with a speck of annoyance in her voice.
Her gloved hand moved slowly to her face and pushed the sparrow’s mask above her head.
“What are you doing?”
Kiba moved to stop her.
“No,” Ino said, shaking her head weakly. “I want to see everything…”
The paths of red were equally thick and dark as they dribbled under her chin. Strands of sweat-matted blonde hair were strewn haphazardly over her forehead. But her sapphire eyes were surprisingly bright. They almost glowed when they looked to the moon.
“It’s too deep,” she almost whispered. Her hand reached out and grasped Kiba’s fingers to stop him from moving toward the blade.
Ino chuckled dryly, “It might have put holes in some important stuff down there.”
His jaw tightened at her attempt at humor and he shook his head slowly, unwilling to believe her even if the lurid scene told him otherwise.
“But I can take it out. It’ll be fine,” he said.
“You…” she coughed and gurgled. “Fucking idiot…”
His grasp on her hand constricted when she chastised him and a grim half-smile appeared on his face. He remembered that Ino had always gotten annoyed whenever he passed over something so obvious.
“Thanks…for coming after me.”
“Don’t mention it,” he replied, moving to sit beside her.
“When you get back…to the hotel,” Ino gasped in a tremor of pain. “You can…have the other bed.”
Kiba kept his gaze firmly ahead while his comrade’s desperate breaths filled his ears. The coppery scent of blood polluted the air around them and he could taste the bitterness of it stinging his tongue. In her weakened state, her grasp was still firm and she squeezed his hand again.
“I was kinda hoping we could share it,” he smirked softly.
Ino coughed again and a crimson spray tarnished the rest of her gray armor.
“Keep wishing,” she bit out.
Kiba’s eyes slid closed and the smirk slowly faded away from his face as Ino’s grip began to loosen. He gritted his teeth and pursed his lips, feeling the pit of his stomach forcefully clench.
“But nice try,” Ino whispered as the last remnants of an amused laugh trailed from her voice.
- - - - - - -
Neji’s feet landed roughly amongst the broken glass below but he moved with unmatched velocity through the night city’s bustling crowd. This was the city that never slept and the populace in front of the Aihara had grown since the afternoon. Nobody had noticed the ninja sprinting between them at breakneck speed to catch his target. Neji swerved around a clump of people and took station behind a pillar, near a thick row of potted plants, lining the hotel’s entrance.
The Byakugan made almost every living soul in the area tangible to his sensation. He scanned the crowd quickly and a sleek black carriage perked his attention. It was coming up to the entrance a little too hurriedly and a few feet away, he noticed a large, limping man being supported by one bodyguard, with the other ushering them toward the vehicle.
Neji’s eyes narrowed. There were too many people around. He watched as the two bodyguards helped Fukao inside. As they got on board themselves, one urgently yelled for the carriage to drive on. At once the driver complied. The ANBU commander realized he would have to finish the assignment in transit.
He jumped above and scaled the hotel’s entrance walls, gradually reaching the top but keeping out of sight. Keeping his eye firmly on Fukao’s carriage, he fled across the rooftop and bounded toward the cables.
His feet were rapid as he sped across the wires. Moving from building to building, he had easily caught up and the carriage below was in full sight. A hand moved deftly behind his back to unsheath his sword once more. He could see a third of Fukao’s face from the carriage window. His sprint increased a couple of steps and he launched himself perilously off the wires. Tumbling almost recklessly through the air, he landed on the roof with a hard thud.
The Byakugan revealed the panic ensuing below him and Neji’s arrival had Fukao screaming for the driver to increase speed. The carriage swerved sharply to the right and Neji almost lost his balance. But he reacted swiftly-his sword came down to pierce the roof, leaving him to grasp the hilt. From side to side the carriage careened and straight ahead, Neji could see the driver’s head bobbing with every bump on the road and yanking at the reigns frantically for the horses to gallop.
Pulling a kunai from his holster, Neji drove it into the roof, steadying himself carefully while working his way up to the front. The driver was too engaged with the control of the reigns and Fukao’s barking orders, he didn’t take heed when the ANBU commander hoisted himself over the edge. It wasn’t until he felt the rapid contact of Neji’s shin guard to his head that the speeding world became disoriented. In a dizzying spell, he was knocked cleanly off his seat and onto the passing road.
The street lamps streaked the night alongside Neji as he took the driver’s seat and grabbed the reigns. But as soon as his gloves gripped the leather strap, his ears picked up the razor-sharp sound of a winged projectile. Instinct cascaded through his senses but he was unable to evade it completely when the carriage struck an upheaval in the road. A blast of pain ripped through his left shoulder in the form of a black arrow. Its jagged head had torn just past bone and was embedded deeply to pierce him through, pinning him to the carriage.
With his left arm screaming against movement, Neji seized the reigns and attempted to slow the wild horses down. The frenzied journey came to an end on the side of a smaller, darker road. As the vehicle halted, Neji heard the incessant cries of Fukao and his two bodyguards moving about behind him.
Realizing he had to act fast, Neji held his breath tightly and grabbed the arrow’s shaft. He denied pulling the entire projectile from his shoulder and only dislodged himself from behind the driver’s seat. Nerves and muscle screeched in horrid complaint but Neji inhaled sharply against his shoulder’s outburst. Out of the corner of his eye, one of Fukao’s suited bodyguards turned the corner and Neji shot to his feet.
A hand came forth to grab at him but he quickly skirted the attempt by bounding over his opponent and landing behind him.
“Hakke Hasangeki,” he spoke, before shooting forward a lethal wave of chakra.
It was enough to shatter his opponent’s midsection and they crumbled desolately against the side of the carriage.
Fukao’s remaining lapdog exited the vehicle door in time to see his cohort fall and he rushed toward the ANBU, recklessly and without thought. Neji’s kunai found its way between his eyes and he immediately fell backward with flailing arms.
With the arrow still skewering his left shoulder, Neji moved toward the gaping carriage door. Reaching in his good arm, he grabbed a cowering mess by the lapels of his blazer and wrenched him from the vehicle, leaving him to tumble onto the gravel. Fukao’s pitiful cries echoed through the street and were absorbed by the shadows.
Neji was out of kunai and he casually removed the weapon from the last bodyguard’s forehead. Holding up the soiled blade, it glinted an angry red in the moonlight as it cast its hungry edge toward the frightened businessman below.
“No! Please…I…” Fukao cried.
The mask of the ram loomed closer; its white facade was painted maliciously with anarchic smears of red-the splatter of evidence that he left death and pitiless savagery in his wake. Long, dark locks of hair cascaded behind ridged, twisted horns akin to a flesh-starved demon.
Fukao stared up in sheer terror, his hands clawing pathetically on the ground in attempt to get away. The red kunai turned its sharp smile toward him and he let out a strangled cry.
The ANBU commander stopped suddenly in his tracks as the veined network around his eyes detected an oncoming barrage from his right. Leaping swiftly into the air, the spiteful wind song of arrows soared underneath him. He landed back on the carriage roof as Fukao wailed and took desperate refuge between the wheels.
Neji wasn’t left any time to contemplate as another flock of black arrows descended from another angle, sending him over the edge and back onto the ground. He evaded a few more as they struck the carriage’s side, leaving an unrelenting pattern.
He scanned the area, tuning the rest of his senses with his meticulous vision. His jaw hardened. He could see the arrows coming but he couldn’t see from whom.
Hakkeshou Kaiten!
The whirlwind of chakra deflected the next set of arrows cleanly and they scattered wildly amongst the two bodies on the ground. But Neji had barely finished the last rotation when a hard edge collided with the base of his skull. The Byakugan wavered recklessly as the world before him plunged into staggering throes of darkness and spinning light. The moment of Neji’s sudden vulnerability allowed for an unforgiving blow to the back of his knee, sending him down as the veined network vanished from around his eyes.
“You saw me and I saw you,” spoke a silver-tongued voice behind him. “That makes us even, doesn’t it?”
On his other knee, Neji whirled around, kunai grasped tightly as his arm arced through the air to strike. The pointed blade was met with the hind section of a steel crossbow. Loaded behind the prods was a black arrow with a long and intricate head.
Neji’s arm was quickly thrust to the side and he found himself staring up at the pallid man as the crossbow was forced viciously under his chin.
“Come out, Fukao,” Castor said softly. His voice was almost gentle-chiding even, like an adult telling a child not to be afraid.
The sounds of scuffling broke the air as Fukao pulled himself from under the carriage and managed to get to his feet. He materialized from behind Castor’s taller, slender form and his gaze bore down upon the subdued ANBU. His rotund face was dirty and his toupee unkempt but his expression was no longer one of cowardice.
Fukao’s nostrils flared as rage colored his face. He stepped forward and a hand full of brass rings struck the side of Neji’s face, sending the ram’s mask hurtling to the side.
“Kill him,” the businessman uttered, spitting.
The words of execution had Neji raising his eyes higher to meet Castor’s turquoise ones. His facade was impassive although marred by a growing bruise and a sheen of sweat.
Castor’s expression was unreadable as strained seconds ticked by. His finger remained static on the cool, steel trigger while his gaze roamed around the ANBU commander’s eyes and finally rested on his forehead. The plated emblem of Konoha sat crookedly above his brow due to the blow he received from the businessman. However, a black streak peeked out from beneath a thin layer of bandages.
Neji watched with wary eyes as Castor extended his other hand toward his head. The crossbow slid further and the arrowhead grated remorselessly against his neck. There was no time to ponder the searing pain when Castor grabbed a hold of his hitai-ite, ripping the layer of bandages with it to reveal his forehead.
The ashen man remained passive but the glint in his eyes reflected a primal hunger that appeared dangerously unfulfilled. As Neji’s bandages fell to the ground, Castor reached into his pockets and pulled out a cell phone. His attention never left Neji and it only grew more covetous as his gaunt fingers skimmed the keypad. The ghost of a smile played faintly at the corners of his unbalanced mouth and he slightly drew back his crossbow.
“Amun,” he said softly. “Expect me to be home very soon.”