The place looked different. Rather than thousands of lowly, homeless people trying to get his money, people were going around dressed up and terrifying. Perhaps they were the same people; every here and there, he saw somebody dressed up trying to scare or entertain a few alms out of his fellow citizens, and he had to believe that the homeless had not simply vanished and had actually adapted. But they were not the ones he was looking for. The person he was looking for was described as having a big knife and actually threatening people. Shinbatsu's eyes were open, and his senses were sharpened. He did not know if this person had received formal training, and if he had, Shinbatsu had to be ready to avoid a trifle unless completely necessary.
With this in mind, Shinbatsu shifted his search to the rooftops. From here, he could survey, and nobody was keeping an eye out for him. That being said, he knew that his position placed him at a natural disadvantage; he could only catch glimpses of the people below before he had to move on, or else he would catch their attention and blow his cover. So he shifted from rooftop to rooftop rapidly, hoping to get to his target unseen and unheard. But the facts were clear and stood against him: there was simply no way he would see the man he was looking for from his position. So he changed it.
Blending into the crowds was not difficult when the two factors working in Shinbatsu's favor were present: for one, so many people were dressed up and wild looking that nobody would even look twice at somebody as ordinarily dressed as he was, and for two, he had lived in Sunagakure his whole life and being a part of the crowd simply meant molding in with people he knew. He saw faces he recognized and greeted them, people who knew him called his name from behind ridiculous masks, and progress was made. He traveled through much of the Palais, and then he stood a small distance before the man he was warned about. He was waving his knife at a child and even swept at him once. After the child had ran away, the man's eyes rose to regard where Shinbatsu had been when he first spotted him, but the ninja was gone. One step, two steps, three steps. The last steps he would ever take.
Later that night, long after everybody had left his bar and into the morning hours when Shinbatsu was often left alone to think or to sleep, he lounged there reading a book and thinking about the matter. The horrors of the matter he had caused were far worse than what he witnessed; upon spotting his target, he had rounded about him, stole his knife, and stuck it in between two ribs appropriately piercing his heart, and before anybody could notice anything Shinbatsu was gone, and by the time the man was done fumbling and had hit the ground and people noticed that the knife in his back was not a part of his costume Shinbatsu was already at his bar serving drinks. Life did not make sense. People were so strange. Some day, somebody would show up and stick a knife in his back, and it would all be over. He took a drink in silence at the thought; that day could even be today. The moment of truth could even be within the next minute. And if it was, nobody would be around to notice the body until the morning, when his killer was already at home drinking hard liquor and thinking about the whole matter.
MFT
With this in mind, Shinbatsu shifted his search to the rooftops. From here, he could survey, and nobody was keeping an eye out for him. That being said, he knew that his position placed him at a natural disadvantage; he could only catch glimpses of the people below before he had to move on, or else he would catch their attention and blow his cover. So he shifted from rooftop to rooftop rapidly, hoping to get to his target unseen and unheard. But the facts were clear and stood against him: there was simply no way he would see the man he was looking for from his position. So he changed it.
Blending into the crowds was not difficult when the two factors working in Shinbatsu's favor were present: for one, so many people were dressed up and wild looking that nobody would even look twice at somebody as ordinarily dressed as he was, and for two, he had lived in Sunagakure his whole life and being a part of the crowd simply meant molding in with people he knew. He saw faces he recognized and greeted them, people who knew him called his name from behind ridiculous masks, and progress was made. He traveled through much of the Palais, and then he stood a small distance before the man he was warned about. He was waving his knife at a child and even swept at him once. After the child had ran away, the man's eyes rose to regard where Shinbatsu had been when he first spotted him, but the ninja was gone. One step, two steps, three steps. The last steps he would ever take.
Later that night, long after everybody had left his bar and into the morning hours when Shinbatsu was often left alone to think or to sleep, he lounged there reading a book and thinking about the matter. The horrors of the matter he had caused were far worse than what he witnessed; upon spotting his target, he had rounded about him, stole his knife, and stuck it in between two ribs appropriately piercing his heart, and before anybody could notice anything Shinbatsu was gone, and by the time the man was done fumbling and had hit the ground and people noticed that the knife in his back was not a part of his costume Shinbatsu was already at his bar serving drinks. Life did not make sense. People were so strange. Some day, somebody would show up and stick a knife in his back, and it would all be over. He took a drink in silence at the thought; that day could even be today. The moment of truth could even be within the next minute. And if it was, nobody would be around to notice the body until the morning, when his killer was already at home drinking hard liquor and thinking about the whole matter.
MFT