Small feet in cloth slippers touched down soundlessly at the end of a dark alley deep in the bowels of the Red Light District, Chiyo's compact form melting seamlessly into the shadows between the refuse. Golden eyes rimmed in black flicked briefly toward the mouth of the alley, but the populace continued on their way, blissfully unaware of the threats still lurking in their midst. With a weary sigh, the new Sennin withdrew a small vial from the utility belt at her thigh and lifted it to inspect the contents. She'd spent nearly every moment of the last few days preparing for what was to come: sending men into the Golden Sanctuary nearly blind, hoping something useful would come of what was surely a suicide mission, scouring the city for every whisper of the Baron Twins and their minions, burning every last sympathizer from their ranks.
On her personal list, however, she'd had to overcome her aversion to the more sinister Uzumoreru techniques. One in particular, Altered Shadows, was something she had always refused to use, as it required ingesting a small amount of someone's blood to transform into them down to their genetic code. It was fortunate now that Toushin had insisted she study the theory. Unfortunately, having studied it, she knew exactly how much pain the ability would inflict, and while she was no stranger to suffering, that knowledge did nothing to make the prospect more appealing.
She stared briefly at the tiny vial of crystal infused with ice chakra to preserve the red liquid inside. With her Jōmyaku active, the blood still held a shimmery glow even outside the body, and that insistent prickling at the back of her mind pushed harder at her psyche until she let the black blood slide from her eyes. She popped the cork and poured the metallic liquid past her lips.
As the blood cascaded over her tongue, a shiver of pleasure rippled through her body, followed closely by deep revulsion that didn't quite mask the initial sensation. Ever since she'd surrendered to the Black Queen's demands, the Uzumoreru had experienced similar moments that didn't feel entirely her own, and it was growing concerning. But they had more pressing matters, a fact driven home as her body seized with a wave of agony unlike anything she'd ever felt.
Her fair skin darkened to rough tan. Her long white hair shot back into her skull and darkened until only a mop of greasy black strands remained. Bones elongated, forcing her body into the proportions of a man a full foot taller, accompanied by a million microscopic changes that felt simultaneously like thousands of wasps burrowing into her skin stinger-first and chemical fire consuming her from the inside out.
Then it was over before she could scream, and she slumped against the stone wall, dragging an unfamiliar hand over her face. She pushed herself upright and stretched, trying to make the new proportions feel natural, but it was an uphill battle she had no time to fight. Knowing the transformation wouldn't last long, she straightened her clothes - grateful she'd chosen the right sizes - and stepped from the shadows into the street, crossing to the small dive bar where her target had most recently worked.
—
An hour later, Chiyo collapsed onto the couch of a safehouse on the other end of the Red Light District, finally letting her body return to its natural shape. "Would've been smart to test that before using it in the field," she muttered to no one in particular as the last vestiges of pain ebbed away. She raked shaking fingers through sweat-damp hair. She'd collected the information she sought about the mole from the report—and now she knew where he lived. Unfortunately, it seemed the man was a mole in more ways than one, having made himself at home beneath Suna proper, in one of the hovels within the inner workings of their mobile village.
The remnants of the seedy underground, destroyed when they'd moved the village, had started to regain a foothold in the darkness where their artificial sun couldn't reach. The area was becoming a hotbed for criminal activity. Luckily, the Uzumoreru name still struck fear into the older generation of that community, but the younger ones couldn't know the terror she'd sown alongside her father. Perhaps it would be time to educate them soon. For now, they had a brief reprieve.
She showered quickly to rid herself of the stench that felt like death, then dressed in loose black linen pants and a sleeveless charcoal grey gi, pulling her long hair into a tight bun to keep it out of the way. She slipped her cloth slippers back on, disappeared through the back window, and headed toward the underbelly of their mobile fortress - where she hoped her prey would be waiting
On her personal list, however, she'd had to overcome her aversion to the more sinister Uzumoreru techniques. One in particular, Altered Shadows, was something she had always refused to use, as it required ingesting a small amount of someone's blood to transform into them down to their genetic code. It was fortunate now that Toushin had insisted she study the theory. Unfortunately, having studied it, she knew exactly how much pain the ability would inflict, and while she was no stranger to suffering, that knowledge did nothing to make the prospect more appealing.
She stared briefly at the tiny vial of crystal infused with ice chakra to preserve the red liquid inside. With her Jōmyaku active, the blood still held a shimmery glow even outside the body, and that insistent prickling at the back of her mind pushed harder at her psyche until she let the black blood slide from her eyes. She popped the cork and poured the metallic liquid past her lips.
As the blood cascaded over her tongue, a shiver of pleasure rippled through her body, followed closely by deep revulsion that didn't quite mask the initial sensation. Ever since she'd surrendered to the Black Queen's demands, the Uzumoreru had experienced similar moments that didn't feel entirely her own, and it was growing concerning. But they had more pressing matters, a fact driven home as her body seized with a wave of agony unlike anything she'd ever felt.
Her fair skin darkened to rough tan. Her long white hair shot back into her skull and darkened until only a mop of greasy black strands remained. Bones elongated, forcing her body into the proportions of a man a full foot taller, accompanied by a million microscopic changes that felt simultaneously like thousands of wasps burrowing into her skin stinger-first and chemical fire consuming her from the inside out.
Then it was over before she could scream, and she slumped against the stone wall, dragging an unfamiliar hand over her face. She pushed herself upright and stretched, trying to make the new proportions feel natural, but it was an uphill battle she had no time to fight. Knowing the transformation wouldn't last long, she straightened her clothes - grateful she'd chosen the right sizes - and stepped from the shadows into the street, crossing to the small dive bar where her target had most recently worked.
—
An hour later, Chiyo collapsed onto the couch of a safehouse on the other end of the Red Light District, finally letting her body return to its natural shape. "Would've been smart to test that before using it in the field," she muttered to no one in particular as the last vestiges of pain ebbed away. She raked shaking fingers through sweat-damp hair. She'd collected the information she sought about the mole from the report—and now she knew where he lived. Unfortunately, it seemed the man was a mole in more ways than one, having made himself at home beneath Suna proper, in one of the hovels within the inner workings of their mobile village.
The remnants of the seedy underground, destroyed when they'd moved the village, had started to regain a foothold in the darkness where their artificial sun couldn't reach. The area was becoming a hotbed for criminal activity. Luckily, the Uzumoreru name still struck fear into the older generation of that community, but the younger ones couldn't know the terror she'd sown alongside her father. Perhaps it would be time to educate them soon. For now, they had a brief reprieve.
She showered quickly to rid herself of the stench that felt like death, then dressed in loose black linen pants and a sleeveless charcoal grey gi, pulling her long hair into a tight bun to keep it out of the way. She slipped her cloth slippers back on, disappeared through the back window, and headed toward the underbelly of their mobile fortress - where she hoped her prey would be waiting
