Down the Rabbit Hole... [Open]

[Gotō Daiji]

"..."​

Strange. If you'd asked him a few months ago where he thought he'd be in the future, standing atop a building preparing to assassinate a traitor to the Hidden Leaf would've been the last thing that came to mind...

...and yet here he was.

Night had fallen on Konoha, shrouding the village in a cloak of darkness. Some lampposts illuminated the streets below, but from this vantage point he was well out of their reach. Not only that, but during his training he had been rigorously instructed in the art of stealth. He knew how to position himself, how to mask his presence, how to muffle his footsteps. He was a ghost (Stalker). Silently he observed the adjacent structure. It was a smaller building than the one he was currently perched upon. Run-down too...at least that's how it looked on the outside. The newly-inducted ANBU operative had been casing the place for a few days now, and from what he could glean there seemed to be some sort of office on the inside. Furniture too. A bit odd for an abandoned warehouse. Down below a man was leaning against a nearby streetlight smoking a cigarette. Probably the lookout. Behind his red mask, the man narrowed his eyes, sweeping his vision back-and-forth across the street. It was late enough that there weren't too many people wandering the streets, but early enough that he would have ample time to complete his mission. It was nearly time. Soon.

As a foreigner to Fire Country, the young man had to go through a vicious vetting process to make sure he was fit for duty. in truth? The ANBU Corps. wasn't his first choice. Not by a long shot. For someone as easygoing and compassionate as himself, it didn't make much sense to enter into a branch renown for using violence and deceit to achieve their goals. But the choice was not his to make. His father had plans. Ambitions. With his older brother one day due to take over as Clan Head, he needed to be the face of the clan. In the public eye as a respected and capable Jōnin. Even if Tōsō would be far more suited to this line of work than himself...it simply wasn't an option. Whether he liked it or not, Yasu's place one day would be at his brother's right. As his second-in-command. According to his father, it was crucial that the Ōta be "plugged in" to the goings-on of the village behind the scenes. And that is where classified information that only ANBU have access to would come in handy. He was forced into this role. To accept the responsibility and possible loss of self that came with it. It was in the best interest of his family. It was his duty. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

Officially, this would be his first assignment as a Leaf ANBU. Assassination is pretty drastic for a first mission. But he had a pretty good idea on why he was given it. What better way to prove a foreigner's loyalty to his new country than forcing him to take a life in the name of it? He was absolutely sure this was the intention of Konoha's higher-ups. There were a number of issues he had with this, but nonetheless he accepted his task. For the sake of his clan...his family...he needed to do this. Whatever price that may entail for him.

 

[Yume]

Faintly from inside of the warehouse, Yasu would be able to hear it: the sounds of a voice he had met not long ago within a grand orchestra. A song that was rather different from her usual upbeat danceable pop songs if he caught up with her discography, but the unusual genre still had a close enough grip on the ears. So much that even someone like Yasu's target would openly listen to it.

The man out by the entrance, put out his cigarette prematurely, and then walked back inside. As he disappeared, another face emerged. It wasn't as obvious, and similar with Yasu's stealthy tactics, Yume slowly faded into existence on the opposite rooftop, just as covered as he. Her heavy coat zipped up right to her neck, with her hood pulled over her head and hiding her meticulously pulled back hair. Her face, fully covered by a gas mask, hid her identity as well as Yasu's did. They appeared to be mirroring each other; though Yume sat upon the edge of her rooftop. Her body played tricks on his eyes, perhaps looking as corporeal as she should in the physical world... but stare too long and she might just really be a transparent figment of his imagination.

Why was Yume here in the first place?

Partly, she was curious. Mostly, her... Family... implored. They weren't the Yakuza anymore, but they still had loose ends to tie up? And Yume, of all people, was the most suited character to perform the task. She half-scoffed and half-sighed from behind her mask, swinging her legs slowly in a circle as they dangled off the edge. The family emphasised her hidden identity, and even helped her so. Of course, Yume the idol can't go around doing shady things with her public face.

Keep him alive, of course, they said. They weren't barbarians and they were especially not Yakuza. It was just one itsy bitsy favour--this way, Yume's true name is one step closer to being clean and pure. That was what she actually wanted, right? They asked her that. She couldn't say no to them. They weren't wrong... But they weren't entirely right either.

Nevertheless, she had stepped back into the family. She can't say no to them now.

So she sat there on the rooftop, waiting for something, or someone, to move. In the meantime, she listened to her own voice carry out faintly from inside the warehouse. Yume could be watching him, or she could be watching the entrance way. It was hard to tell with that thing on her face.

 

[Gotō Daiji]

Noise. The first thing that really caught the young man's attention as he continued to observe his target's location. Of course he didn't have particularly acute hearing, but the muted sounds of music could be heard coming from within the 'abandoned' warehouse. It was...strange. The ANBU operative wasn't the biggest music connoisseur (at least when it came to modern songs...), but for some reason he felt like he'd heard this particular song before. Or maybe the artist? It seemed awfully familiar...but for whatever reason he just could not put his finger on it.

Before he could think about it any further the sound of stunned silence shot through the masked man's head. "...?!" His eyes were sharp. Even without using his Dōjutsu his coal black irises saw farther and clearer than most people's. So it goes without saying that when his gaze fell upon a similarly dressed stranger who hadn't been there before, his mind began to race. His guard instantly went up as his heart rate quickened. Who was this person? A threat? An ally? They looked too oddly dressed to be a fellow ANBU...but then again he had heard stories of some pretty audacious masks worn by members in the past. Still, he couldn't help but think that his superiors would've told him if he was going to be having assistance on this mission. Unless this was part of his "test". "..." Silence pervaded the air as the operative stood from his crouched position. His eyes had yet to break their lock on the stranger. Something was...'off' about their visage. Again, he couldn't quite put his finger on it but it didn't seem right. Maybe it was him? Sleep deprivation was a part of ANBU training so he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in a while. Whatever the reason it didn't matter. After about a minute of observing the newcomer the masked operative turned his gaze back towards the building. He couldn't let anything get in the way of his objective. His position would be the Ōta's ticket into the nerve center of Konohagakure. It was time to prove himself. To his village. To his family. It was time to fulfill his duty.

The sentry had disappeared back inside. Done with his smoke? Depending on how things went, he might soon wish he stayed outside. Now that the coast was clear...it was time. Wordlessly, noiselessly, the man began to make his move...

...by soaring through the air. Not literally, no. But the end result looked about the same. A running start led to a fearless jump off the building and across the wide village street. Luckily, his daring maneuver paid off. Without too much sound the ANBU managed to land on a sill of a second story window. His new perch. Because the warehouse was abandoned some of the windows had long since been broken and/or taken out of the place. This structure was about as run-down as it gets. For now that fact was working in his favor. Though maybe such a bold approach wasn't for the best. If the masked stranger hadn't seen him before, they definitely would have now. His movements may have been muffled, but such a conspicuous jump could be easily spotted from the rooftops. It was obvious he was an amateur. Nobody would willingly give their position away like that to an unknown factor. Or...would they? Perhaps he actually wanted the newcomer to know he was there? If his presence didn't scare them away it would surely draw them out. Either way they'd be playing into his plan. His guard was up. He was trained for battle. Were they?

A question he might soon find out. If that person came looking for him they'd know exactly where he was from the trajectory of his jump. A change of viewpoints was needed. Slowly and very carefully he began to work his way inside. And upwards. A system of rafters stretched the entire length of the facility. With a little chakra control and some dexterous climbing, he was now in a comfortable position to view the inner workings of the warehouse and be on the lookout for his new 'friend'. From his vantage point he was able to see the entirety of the warehouse floor. It was dimly lit inside. Only two hanging lamps with flickering dull bulbs were lighting the otherwise dark building. For good reason too. An abandoned plant couldn't exactly be brightly lit now could it? Despite the pitiful light situation there seemed to be quite the party going on. A group of about twenty men give-or-take occupied the inside of the warehouse. Not so abandoned after all! Most of them were bunched up talking to one another with a few stragglers spaced out here-and-there. Tables and chairs were set up so the goons would have a place to rest their feet. That music from earlier was now much louder since entering the facility, but he still couldn't quite make out where it was coming from. Now that he got a good look...it didn't seem like his target was in this room. Surely there was a back office to this place. Maybe he was back there? Managing shady dealings and jamming out to his favorite music. He had to admit, he was curious as to what kind of "business" these mooks dealt in. There had to be a reason they were all grouped up like this. Too much manpower for something trivial.

Whatever the case, for now the ANBU would hold position. There was no need to rush yet. Carelessness in situations like these could get you killed. If he was patient enough the target just might show his face. And if he was lucky...that masked stranger might show theirs.

[mft]

 

[Yume]

When the Anbu operative leapt from his original position and flew across the sky over to a section of the warehouse, Yume also made her move. Waiting around did nothing for her but waste time. She didn't know what business that stranger had with this warehouse of crooks, but for sure, it had nothing to do with her.

Yume just had to find the big fish.

She slid off the edge of the roof and landed on the dusty street ground with a near-silent tap. The next song on their playlist blared to life. Same artist, this time back with her regular genre of upbeat dance tracks. Few were sitting by an old television that dimly lit up the live music performance. Others were in their own little groups with bottles of beer and chattering amongst themselves as they waited for their next shipment.

The girl walked in, staying closer to the corners and the edge of the warehouse where the flickering light would have most difficulty reaching. Glad enough that the music created enough of a noise distraction; Yume didn't have to take extra care of her footsteps then. Continuously and carefully, she snuck along the darkened walls, using her ability to blend into the surrounding as best as she could.

And like a ghost, eventually a door at the back creaked open then closed. Yume stretched her arms over her head before shaking away the tension she had in her shoulder muscles. She looked around, seeing the back streets of the outside and sighed. Looks like he wasn't in the main warehouse building. The eyes behind the gas mask looked to the side, noting a smaller building just beside it. That could make sense. The minions could be in the warehouse, and it wasn't uncommon to find the leader hiding out elsewhere, but close by.

So it was decided to break and enter the adjacent building, which did turn out to be a small office after all. Unfortunately empty, but it appeared to be the right place. Lying haphazardly on the bare desk was a card with the symbol the Yamaguchi princess had grown to be reluctantly familiar with. Quickly, she swiped the card, slipping it into her inside coat pocket. She looked around the office, seeing nothing else that resembled the symbol. Perhaps, though she was severely hoping it'd wouldn't be the case, that leader would have another somewhere on his person.

 

[Gotō Daiji]

Interesting. The stranger did end up making a move...but it only amounted to more skulking around. Just like he was doing. For obvious reasons this worried the newly-anointed ANBU. Ignoring the bulk of the gang's forces meant that they weren't here to wipe them out. At least as far as he could tell. This left only a few options. They were either a thief looking for some sort of hidden cache...or they were here to do exactly what he was. Neither of these were good things. Even if they were only here to steal something things could govery wrong if they ran into one of these mooks. And as far as the assassination angle? Well...this was his target. Not theirs.

He wasn't about to let somebody else do his job.

Soundlessly the operative moved across the rafters, keeping his eyes open the entire time. A small box with flashing pictures on it turned out to be the source of all the music. He might not have understood advanced tech all that well, but it was a good thing these goons were really in to pop. Towards the back of the warehouse were two of the enforcers, chatting worriedly about something. The shadowed ANBU was pretty high up so he couldn't make out the entire conversation. But after closing his eyes and doing his best to focus he did manage to eavesdrop on a bit of. "...-took out ten of our guys like it was nothing. They've got some serious balls." Conflict with another party? But who? The operative was new but he had already been briefed on several of the factions here in Konoha. The Black Scorpions, the Yakuza. You'd have to be a fool to tangle with organizations such as these. "We should hit 'em back even harder. They just started making noise in the village so there's no way they have the numbers we do. 'Makkuro Syndicate'...what a joke. I heard they got ties with...-" The rest of the conversation was drowned out as one of the men turned the volume on the picture box up. Probably to drown out the sound of his peabrained associates. That was all he needed to hear, anyway. He was here to kill a man, not to listen to gangster gossip. Still...he'd be lying if the thought of an up-and-coming criminal organization didn't worry him a bit. Konoha's higher-ups would catch wind of them eventually. "Maybe my next assignment will be to deal with one of them..." It could very well be possible. But right now there wasn't any time to worry about that. He to had to get eyes on his target. Fast.

After melding back into the darkness the man grasped the edge of the beam he stood on and lowered himself so he was dangling off of the edge. Letting go, he landed on the warehouse floor with a dull thud that was easily masked by the music. His first option was to wait for the head mook to show himself, but with that other person sneaking around he couldn't afford to hold position. He had to find the target before they did. Making his way to the back door, the ANBU's eyes widened slightly under his mask. Someone had already been through here? Probably that stranger. He was so busy listening to those goons that he didn't notice. "Not good." the thought rattled around in his skull. If he was lucky then maybe they decided to pick up and leave. He wasn't banking on it though. The operative slinked through the partially open door out into the night.

Next to the warehouse was a smaller structure just off of it. Back office, just like he thought. His first instinct was to enter through the front but he stopped himself just before making his way over. He was ANBU now. The direct route was almost never their route. Sticking to the shadows the man in the red mask made his way behind the office building. A small window directly behind the desk gave him a clear view inside. But he was no fool. As far as he knew the target was standing in front of the desk looking directly through the glass. He'd have to be an idiot to peer through. Instead, he drew a kunai from the holster strapped to his leg. Using the slightly-reflective surface as a makeshift mirror, he slowly and meticulously positioned it so he could see inside. There was no light where he was crouched so it shouldn't glint or anything and give him away. The picture was not the clearest...and he could only barely make out the image. But from what it looked like that stranger was in there. Waiting. "Damn." Quickly he withdrew his blade, making sure to keep a tight grip on it as he ran through several scenarios in his head. He could burst in now and try to subdue this stranger...but that would undoubtedly make a lot of noise. Not to mention potentially scaring off the target if he was nearby. A few seconds of thinking was all it took before he settled on a plan. He would wait. Having an unknown variable in the mix had the potential to impede his mission in a lot of ways...but it could also help him if he was smart about it. As silently as he could he funneled chakra into the soles of his feet and began to make his way up the side of the administration building. Once he was at the top he saw something that eased his mind, if only a bit. A skylight. Now he could make a hasty entrance if need be. The ANBU would crouch near the ceiling portal but out of direct line-of-sight. Now it was time to play the waiting ga- tck, tck, tck...

The sound of expensive shoes clicking against pavement drew near. Looks like he wouldn't have to wait that long after all. Mentally the man steeled himself for what was to come. The footsteps were infrequent enough as to indicate the presence of only one person. This had to be his target. It was time.

 

[Yume]

Yasu wasn't the only one who heard those footsteps. Even before that, the hairs on the back of her neck pricked up in attention as footsteps sounded closer and closer into the office. Yume stood still, seemingly staring out the back window behind the desk through her mask... until the footsteps that were now loud and clear suddenly stopped. She turned around slowly just as the target demanded who she was.

With her back facing Yasu, her covered hand moved up towards the coat zip. Opening it just enough to able to tease out that same card to show the man, Yume slipped it back in and zipped her coat back up. Yasu shouldn't have been able to see the card with her back directly to him, but he would have been able to notice the change in the target's mood. He smiled, albeit a little nervous, rubbing his hands together as he greeted Yume formally.

"A-Ah, how very nice to see you in these neck of the woods. We're still waiting on last month's shipment to arrive and then we can proceed as planned."

We have proof that he's double crossing us.

The family said that. So, she wasn't listening. It was all small talk anyway. Instead, while he babbled and rambled about whatever, Yume was skimming and scanning his person through the dim lighting. Phoenixes. Yin-yang. Peonies. Red feathers. Other than the fully embossed crest like on the card she stole, other symbols that hint to the family need an eye kept on them too. She noticed his coat had a motif of a phoenix on the back when he turned around to close the door. That was it, unfortunately. She didn't have x-ray vision to see underneath for any other cards or, worse yet, any resembling tattoos.

You don't have to kill him, dear. Just remove every association he has with us.

Fine.

Without even uttering a single sound, Yume launched forward like a ghostly glitch and shot out her hand towards him, ultimately catching him off guard. They both fell to the floor--the target landing face down uncomfortably close to the floor, and one of the girl's knees locking against his shoulder blade. She held one of this arms behind him, close to his neck such that he would have difficulty yelling out. Her free hand shuffled in her pockets for a knife. With a single metallic glint in the moonlight, she tore through the coat in quick slashes to the phoenix motif before cutting it vertically down in half.

As quick as that came, Yume got off him and kicked him over. The coat fell off him in tatters, showing another symbol embedded to his skin that needed to be erased. Tacky tattoo. Yume frowned from behind her mask, annoyed that she had more unsightly work to do and crouched down to the man's level. Perhaps to his crew, he would appear to be an overconfident, almost arrogant leader. But in front of this masked stranger, unaware of her true identity and blood, he was nothing but a cowardly snake.

Her finger pointed to her head like a gun. With a silent stare, she jerked her make believe gun away, simulating her head being shot at. The message was loud and clear

We don't want to get in any trouble with him partnering with us. I'm so sorry for asking you to do this... but you're the only one who can.

She had a strong grip on the man's mouth, sealing off any screams as her other hand grasped onto his forearm. Fire conjured up in between his skin and her glove, burning away the tattoo that associated him with the family. He didn't really need to get that tattoo. Probably wanted to look even more authentic than he really was.

Perhaps at this point, Yasu would want to intervene. If he did and made his presence even the slightest known, Yume wasn't going to stick around for long. In that case, after confirming Yasu's presence, she'd silently check the target's arm to ensure the tattoo was disfigured beyond repair underneath the third degree burns and finally bolt out the door in attempt to escape the situation.

 

[Gotō Daiji]

Silence.

Not only was it his ANBU namesake, but it is what he strives for in every aspect while on duty. The glass covering the skylight on top of the office wasn't particularly thick, but it did serve as a barrier to muffle the sounds of what was going on below. He needed total silence to even attempt to eavesdrop. Using every ounce of control he could muster the operative stilled his muscle movements as much as he humanly could. His head lowered. The rate at which his lungs took in oxygen slowed. Silence. Focus.

A single word echoed throughout the masked man's head. "Shipment?" It was true he had been hastily briefed on the various organizations and factions within Konohagkure, but the specifics of their business had been left out. Most likely intentionally. It simply wasn't smart to give a brand new foreign operative such sensitive intel. Mugon couldn't help but to wonder what sort of delivery this cretin was waiting on. How did he make his money? Drugs? People smuggling? Arms deals? There were any number of possibilities...something he would perhaps find the answer to at a later date. His naturally curious mind of course wanted to investigate further, but his sense of duty stopped him from doing so. His mission was to take a life, not play detective and snoop around the warehouse. Eyes as dark as night peered through the tomoe-shaped holes in his mask. Through the skylight he was able to see the man -who most certainly had to be his target- but his vision of the second intruder was obscured. His eyes were sharp, true, but he did not see the card that signified the stranger's affiliation with the group. From the way he spoke to them however, it was apparent that they had at the very least met before.

Fingers curled tightly around the kunai still grasped in his hand. The newcomer had finally made their move. Though his sight was powerful, even he could not fully perceive how the masked stranger moved. It didn't look natural at all, almost like they had blinked forward. In an instant they were upon the target, succeeding in putting him in a rather painful-looking arm lock within a few seconds. "They've got some skill in hand-to-hand..." he thought to himself, begrudgingly impressed. Not because he had an ego about his own skills or anything, but for the simple fact that they were putting his target into a submission hold. Every cell in his body wanted to rush in and stop whatever was about to happen...but for some reason he hesitated. If they had wanted to kill him they could have done so easily. Especially considering how they caught him off guard so suddenly. The fact that they didn't was telling. Maybe this person was an enforcer? Here to 'resolve' an internal struggle. Of course he had no way of being sure...but he didn't lend too much credence to the theory anyway. It was just a thought...

...for now.

The ANBU continued to observe as the intruder slashed the man's coat to pieces. Odd. For the life of him he couldn't even attempt to deduce why they would take this course of action. It seemed like he wouldn't have much time to ponder it though...because what he saw next made his stomach lurch. After kicking his target over onto his back, the intruder produced a flame and proceeded to slowly burn his arm. Mugon's true identity was not predisposed to violence. In fact he disliked it very much. Not only had he never been in any serious battles in his young life, but the sight of something like this was enough to push him over the edge. Sure this was his target. Sure it was his mission to kill this man. But he would do it his way. Quickly. Humanely. Not like this. A loud CRRRAAAASH! sounded out as the masked operative smashed through the skylight, landing roughly on the ground amidst raining shards of glass. If the stranger turned to face him they would see two crimson-colored irises peering out at them through the darkened eyeholes of his mask (Sharingan). He had been trained since a young age not to rely too heavily on his Dōjutsu like many foolish ninja had done before. But using every tool at your disposal was a lesson he'd learned that was just as important. Colors bled to life in his eyesight as chakra became visible. In case the intruder tried that strange movement technique again, at least this way he'd be able to perceive it.

It wasn't even two seconds after he'd made his noisy entrance that the ANBU made his move. In one fluid motion his right hand swiped four shuriken from the pouch on the back of his hip and loosed them at the masked stranger (Volley). A simple attack with two objectives. First to get a slight gauge of his opponent's skill...and second to distract them. If him crashing through the ceiling didn't surprise them hopefully the projectiles would. By the time they were finished dealing with the scattered throwing stars headed their way Mugon would have already crossed the room. As quickly as he rushed the intruder he would deliver a reverse-grip swipe with the kunai clutched in his left hand (Vanishing Slash). How would this person defend? Would they choose to run instead? Whatever the case, eyes that seemed to glow with a faint red light would be watching their every move. These initial attacks weren't really meant to deal too much harm. Could he have used some more devastating techniques? Absolutely. But he wanted to test the waters with this person. Plus his target could've been harmed in the wake of one of his higher-level jutsu. And dead was something he just did not want his target to be...

Yet, anyway.

[mft]

 

[Yume]

She did what she was supposed to. Confirming that the tattoo that could link this man to the family was completely burned off the skin, Yume heard the crash of the skylight windows. She pushed the target away from her and glitched back up to her feet--though to Yasu's eyes, all he'd see was her getting to her feet normally, only... more ethereal. Instead of doing anything to combat the shuriken thrown against her, her thick coat and her ghost took the brunt of it. Perhaps there was a bit of moving about here and there in a half-hearted attempt to dodge, but for the most part, her body had already faded to half transparency. Her arm was up to shield her face, even though it was already covered by the gas mask, and the stars flew past and seemingly through her.

Of course, she wasn't a true ghost. Few of the edges of the shuriken sliced by her, creating nicks in her coat and worst yet, ruined the glove of the hand she had up protecting her face. On closer inspection, the fingers were slender, and very feminine. That was, until they morphed into demonic claws.

The volley of shuriken finally seemed to be at its end, but Yume wasn't out of the woods yet. She lowered her hand, and already the unknown foe was in her face. The glint of the kunai sparked dimly from the starlight and it didn't take a jounin to know that he was going to attack her.

It was only just the very last second before the kunai would hit her did she glitch apart and Yasu would find himself slashing into a wooden effigy--the kind that was a bunch of sticks bound together to look like a figure. It was very similar to ones used in witchcraft. Body switching at its core, but Yume being Yume was not one to follow the standard. Her bloodline is funny that way.

She refused to speak a word or sound a grunt, lest it give her more away than the hand already did. The front door of the office crashed open and she left the target behind, unsure whether he was going to still exist the next day. But her job was done; she had erased everything that could possibly link him to the family. Yume hoped that she didn't have to do the same to those henchmen.

With an eerie speed, the princess blitzed out and away from the warehouse area, down the street towards the temple. She hoped that the masked Anbu, or whatever he was, was better distracted with the man with the slashed up clothes, rather than chasing her.

Topic fled unless stopped!

 

[Gotō Daiji]

Clink, clink, clink!

Several metallic impacts sounded out as his shuriken passed (mostly) harmlessly past the second masked intruder and embedded themselves in the far office wall. Except for some reason...it almost looked like the stars passed through the assailant. "How the-...?!" His crimson irises seemed to glow beneath his mask as he focused in on the intruder. Mugon hadn't blinked, yet it seemed like their movements were still unnatural. Even his Sharingan could not comprehend everything at first sight. It was able to capture the nonchalant movements they'd made to "avoid" the projectiles, but for the small amount of effort they put into dodging them, the masked stranger should've been left with more than a few small cuts in their clothing. The operative's sharp eyesight managed to catch a glimpse of the perp's hands...but to outright deduce that they were female was a bit of a stretch. He'd seen men with slender fingers before. In fact he didn't have the most masculine hands. What was infinitely more shocking to him was when said effeminate hand suddenly transformed, taking on the visage of a gruesome-looking monstrous claw. "...!!" A look of surprise flashed across his face but his mask meant he didn't even have to attempt to hide it. It was too late to stop now. He was already in motion. One flash of unpolished steel later and his kunai- THUNK!

...sliced partway into a wooden doll? The ANBU's free hand caught the effigy and held it up after his Sharingan quickly inspected it for any tampering. "Kawarimi..." the word echoed through Mugon's head. Whoever this person was? They were fast. Odd, too. He could've sworn his eyes picked up another strange lurch in the second before the Body Switch. Before the operative could even yank his weapon out of the Kawarimi Target the door to the office was flung open and the second intruder was gone. He tossed the effigy to the side and began to move to chase after them...but then he suddenly stopped. Mugon wanted to. Kami above he wanted to hunt that person down and take them in for questioning. At best they were a volatile lowlife criminal, and at worst they had serious links to this organization and were a major player. Every cell in his body was screaming "Pursue"...but that wasn't what his job was. He hadn't been sent here to waste time playing cat and mouse with some gas mask-wearing stranger. He had been sent here for an entirely different reason. His mission was not a game of hide-and-seek...

...his mission was blood.

Slowly, the masked operative shifted his red gaze towards his downed target. Immediately the man reacted, scooting backwards and looking around the room frantically, likely in an attempt to find something he could use as a weapon. But there was nothing. This was an administration building in a warehouse not an armory. "Wh-...who are you? What do you want from me?!" the criminal shouted, his expression a desperate mix between anger and fear. Mugon simply stared awhile. In all his time on this planet he couldn't recall if he'd ever seen someone like this. He looked like a wild animal stuck in a trap. Scared. Confused. Furious. It was like the man didn't know which emotion to settle on. A hand reached back into his hip pouch, producing a small notepad. In keeping with his namesake, the ANBU didn't speak. Not in uniform. Not ever. Unless the Hokage demanded his voice, he would remain silent. Not only was it a way of protecting his identity, but it also served to make him even more intimidating. A fact he would come to find out later upon dealing with more criminals. Mugon's index finger began to glow with a faint blue light as he funneled a small amount of chakra into it. Several 'brush strokes' later and the man had his answer.</FONTFACE>

血

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A single kanji. Nothing less. Nothing more. It was a simple message. It was the truth. He saw the man's eyes widen as he rose halfway to his knees. "...you're with the village...aren't you?" No response. "They sent you here to kill me. Probably told you all the horrible things I've done...how I need to be 'brought to justice'." The man scoffed, seeming dangerously close to hysterics. "Is that it?!" In truth? He wasn't that far off. Mugon had not been informed of the finer details of organization's inner workings, but he had been briefed on some of the crimes they committed. He'd also been told of some of the atrocities this man in particular was responsible for, crimes that were both proven and unproven. He was a murderer. A thief. A cheat. This was the only thing he deserved...or so he kept telling himself. "That's just like a Ninja Village...paint everything in black and white and hold itself up on the pedestal." Conflicting emotions still ran rampant through his target...but it seemed like he was beginning to accept what was to come. There was only one way this was going to end. It was the only way it could. The man was now on his knees, staring at the ground with a hint of what appeared to be regret in his eyes. "I'm no saint...I never claimed to be." Now his words were barely more than a mutter. It was almost as if he was talking more to himself than the masked operative standing over him. For awhile it was quiet. The ANBU standing vigilant and the beaten and disgraced criminal, likely looking back on his life in his head. Eventually he lifted his head to at Mugon, meeting his Sharingan's gaze. "I bet you'll find your superiors aren't so righteous themselves." The operative's eyes widened slightly beneath his mask. He didn't know why. Didn't put too much faith in the words of this reprobate to begin with. But for some reason that statement hit home. Of course Mugon was no fool. He was ANBU. Now? He was effectively part of the darker side of the Shinobi World. Sometimes bad things needed to be done for the sake of the greater good. It was his job to do those things. He took a step forward.

A slight laugh followed as Mugon now stood directly over the target. Without hesitation the man closed his eyes and lifted his head up, exposing his neck for the operative. "Get on with it, then. Finish your mission." The sound of metal setting into place rang out as the ANBU tightened his grip on the kunai. And then-...nothing? Hesitation, more like. If the man didn't have his eyes closed, he'd likely be able to see the slight trembling of his weapon hand. As scary as he looked in this mask...and as much training as he'd been put through for his entire life...he had never killed anyone before. Rice Country was a peaceful nation. There were no wars. No skirmishes. The occasional brawl between poor drunken villagers but that was easily resolved without further violence. Mugon's real identity was no killer. He despised unnecessary violence. Even when it was necessary, he didn't take any joy in it. Yet here he was. Gripping a kunai in hand. Ready to end this man's life on the order of someone who had probably never done what he was about to do. Steadily he raised the ninja tool, the shaking of his hand getting worse as he moved to prepare the final blow. There was no other choice here. He had to do this. For his village. For the Corps. For his family. "It's easy, you know." The man's voice nearly startled the ANBU into dropping his weapon. He was so focused on committing the act that he'd nearly forgotten where he was. For a man about to die he looked awfully calm. As at peace as someone like him could ever be. Gloved fingers curled tightly around the weapon's hilt until the knuckles underneath the cloth were white as a ghost. If he didn't do it now...he never would. "Easier than you thin-" Red. Dull thud.

Silence.

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