It was nearing the end of the fourth day.
Never in his life had Michino been so unprepared despite taking as many precautions as he did. The boxer was no stranger to harsh weather mixed in with training regimens. They did, after all, live in a desert. However the levels of cold that came at night caused everything that had any moisture in it to freeze over before the sun came out the next day. During his first night he had almost frozen to death but the ever watchful eye of the elite shinobi kept him and others from having that fate. When they neared and as they left the ocean they trekked through as much snow as they did mud. The entire experience was exhausting and no one could predict the weather; only survive it.The three elite, Hakiru, Kikin, and Housetu, were pretty much the only thing carrying the caravan of people back and forth.
Out of the thirty that joined them about only sixteen were still making the full trek. Almost half the group, which was unfortunately the civilian part, could no longer make the long course. About five had to be carried on stretchers with teams from frostbite or a stress related injury. The medical shinobi Housetsu broke off from the main group to lead the injured ones on the short path back to the village while the other group continued on.
Now the sun was starting to set. Kikin called for the group to stop as she raised a single gloved fist. The remaining sixteen shinobi slowed their jog down to a trot and finally a stop. Without taking even a second to rest the entire group was working on getting their tents set up knowing full well of the night’s weather and the harshness of this front.
Pulling the cord to tighten the bond of his tent’s cover he then started to build a small wall around his tent with the mud of the previous day’s melting freeze. It was to help block the vicious wind a little better. Hakiru called in the group once everyone had set up their tents and told them all that tommorow would be their last day and since they were only about ten kilometers out from Sunagakure the last part of the run would be a race for prize money.
This is what Michino was here for. He had done everything in his power to preserve his strength for the race at the end held for the strongest. The run had taken a lot out of him, though, and a part of his brain was trying to convince him he didn’t need that prize money. Sadly he had dues to be paid; like his bar tab. Once the gathering broke up everyone went to their own separate tents to get settled in for the night. Removing his large backpack and setting it inside the tent first the teenager got down and crawled inside right as the wind started to pick up and the last ray of light streaked across the sky.
Opening the pack Michino first grabbed a glass lamp and a small metal shepherds staff. Driving the metal pole into the ground he hung the lamp off the curve of the staff and lit the wick with a small fire jutsu. While the lamp tried to warm up he crawled over to the opening flap and pulled the strings tight to shut out the outside. It took about three hours before the Toraono was able to get his tent warm enough with his sleeping bag that he could safely fall asleep. The thermometer that hung from the very center of the tent allowed him to keep an eye on the inner temp so he didn’t freeze to death like he almost did during the first night. It was reading about forty degrees Fahrenheit. It was perfect. Slowly he closed his eyes and let his mind drift off to sleep.
He didn’t hear the first scream. It was the second one cut off suddenly and the sound of blades clashing near his tent that jerked his eyes opened. Without wasting a moment he bounced his body off the ground and kicked the sleeping bag off mid air. As he landed he rolled backwards until he was on his feet and placed his hands against the ground. A pulse of chakra and a hole revealed itself under the metal cane. The light inside of his tent went out and barely two seconds after he climbed down the hole a force of energy ripped through where he was.
A chill went up his spine and the fear of battle started to come crashing in as cold sweat beaded up on his forehead. While his fear of fighting was nothing new it was something he had been working towards getting over by becoming an Underground boxer. For the most part it worked, but, the energy that flew over his head struck a chord. It had the same feel as Ryuu Tama’s Ancient energy he used during his fight with the Steward. A part of him was terrified he was going to peek his head out and see that mad man in his lab coat killing a bunch of innocents for Kami knows what reason. Gritting his teeth he activated a jutsu that caused chakra to seep from his pours in a reflective coat that made him nearly invisible before leaping out of the hole.
Even as he did it was only his instinct to dive left that save him. A blast of energy rushed right by him and burned his right shoulder.
Whatever was out here in the dark killing them could sense chakra. Michino’s eyes looked around the darkened camp looking for anything or anyone. A large dark figure was in the middle of the camp with at least five or six bodies around and it appeared to be a male. Right before he hit the ground the Toraono took a whiff of the air and caught, among the smell of death, something that wasn’t either gender that he could tell. It didn’t even smell human.
His shoulder hit the cold sand and he rolled with his invisibility still up but right as he started to lift his head the imposing figure was already standing before him reaching out. The teenager froze. As that hand moved to grab for him all he could see was the aura of death and terror surrounding it. It was as if the group had somehow the misfortune to encounter the literal incarnation of Death. Before the hand could touch him Kikin appeared behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso with one arm holding his left up and away from the tan boy.
“Go!” She screamed at him, “Grab the wounded and get out of here! Now!”
The beast reached behind him with the free arm and grabbed her throat, but before he could do anything an already injured Hakiru darted in and slammed a chakra pressure point with his open palm. The look of fury and desperation covered his face along with the blood that poured from a head wound. He wanted to stay and fight. This felt like he was just falling into his cowardice again to turn tail and run but before he knew it he was looking back at the two elite shinobi doing everything in their power to keep the monster at bay.
Scrambling as fast as he could the teenager rushed back to the gathering of tents for survivors. Of the sixteen all but five, including himself and the two elites, were either dead or critically injured. One woman was holding a broken leg and trying not to think about the pain while the other guy was doing his best to try and use medical jutsu to heal it even though blood was seeping out his side through his clothes. Grabbing the man’s hand in desperation Michino willed his chakra into it to help heal the broken leg a little faster. It was draining, but, she was finally able to get up on her feet. The three of them grabbed a single pack from one of the tents and took off into the night towards Suna. The Toraono turned his head back to see the moonlight silhouetting the beast of a man as he literally eviscerated one of the elites over his head with a roar. The teen turned his head away from the screams and ran as hard as he could.
It only took the three of them an hour to make it to the gates. They didn’t see anymore signs of the thing that attacked them but Michino did end up carrying the male shinobi over his shoulder for the last ten minutes. As the three came up breathlessly to the gates the guards rushed to meet them and pulled them inside fast. The teenager and the kinochi were given blankets and placed near fires to warm up while the third was quickly taken to the hospital. They told their story to be passed on immediately to the Kazekage. When they asked if the group of injured made it back the guards said that they had only seen the three of them even though Housetsu should of made it back with his team of injured nearly a full day ahead of the others.
There was no celebration that following morning. Only preparations to go retrieve the bodies.
Never in his life had Michino been so unprepared despite taking as many precautions as he did. The boxer was no stranger to harsh weather mixed in with training regimens. They did, after all, live in a desert. However the levels of cold that came at night caused everything that had any moisture in it to freeze over before the sun came out the next day. During his first night he had almost frozen to death but the ever watchful eye of the elite shinobi kept him and others from having that fate. When they neared and as they left the ocean they trekked through as much snow as they did mud. The entire experience was exhausting and no one could predict the weather; only survive it.The three elite, Hakiru, Kikin, and Housetu, were pretty much the only thing carrying the caravan of people back and forth.
Out of the thirty that joined them about only sixteen were still making the full trek. Almost half the group, which was unfortunately the civilian part, could no longer make the long course. About five had to be carried on stretchers with teams from frostbite or a stress related injury. The medical shinobi Housetsu broke off from the main group to lead the injured ones on the short path back to the village while the other group continued on.
Now the sun was starting to set. Kikin called for the group to stop as she raised a single gloved fist. The remaining sixteen shinobi slowed their jog down to a trot and finally a stop. Without taking even a second to rest the entire group was working on getting their tents set up knowing full well of the night’s weather and the harshness of this front.
Pulling the cord to tighten the bond of his tent’s cover he then started to build a small wall around his tent with the mud of the previous day’s melting freeze. It was to help block the vicious wind a little better. Hakiru called in the group once everyone had set up their tents and told them all that tommorow would be their last day and since they were only about ten kilometers out from Sunagakure the last part of the run would be a race for prize money.
This is what Michino was here for. He had done everything in his power to preserve his strength for the race at the end held for the strongest. The run had taken a lot out of him, though, and a part of his brain was trying to convince him he didn’t need that prize money. Sadly he had dues to be paid; like his bar tab. Once the gathering broke up everyone went to their own separate tents to get settled in for the night. Removing his large backpack and setting it inside the tent first the teenager got down and crawled inside right as the wind started to pick up and the last ray of light streaked across the sky.
Opening the pack Michino first grabbed a glass lamp and a small metal shepherds staff. Driving the metal pole into the ground he hung the lamp off the curve of the staff and lit the wick with a small fire jutsu. While the lamp tried to warm up he crawled over to the opening flap and pulled the strings tight to shut out the outside. It took about three hours before the Toraono was able to get his tent warm enough with his sleeping bag that he could safely fall asleep. The thermometer that hung from the very center of the tent allowed him to keep an eye on the inner temp so he didn’t freeze to death like he almost did during the first night. It was reading about forty degrees Fahrenheit. It was perfect. Slowly he closed his eyes and let his mind drift off to sleep.
He didn’t hear the first scream. It was the second one cut off suddenly and the sound of blades clashing near his tent that jerked his eyes opened. Without wasting a moment he bounced his body off the ground and kicked the sleeping bag off mid air. As he landed he rolled backwards until he was on his feet and placed his hands against the ground. A pulse of chakra and a hole revealed itself under the metal cane. The light inside of his tent went out and barely two seconds after he climbed down the hole a force of energy ripped through where he was.
A chill went up his spine and the fear of battle started to come crashing in as cold sweat beaded up on his forehead. While his fear of fighting was nothing new it was something he had been working towards getting over by becoming an Underground boxer. For the most part it worked, but, the energy that flew over his head struck a chord. It had the same feel as Ryuu Tama’s Ancient energy he used during his fight with the Steward. A part of him was terrified he was going to peek his head out and see that mad man in his lab coat killing a bunch of innocents for Kami knows what reason. Gritting his teeth he activated a jutsu that caused chakra to seep from his pours in a reflective coat that made him nearly invisible before leaping out of the hole.
Even as he did it was only his instinct to dive left that save him. A blast of energy rushed right by him and burned his right shoulder.
Whatever was out here in the dark killing them could sense chakra. Michino’s eyes looked around the darkened camp looking for anything or anyone. A large dark figure was in the middle of the camp with at least five or six bodies around and it appeared to be a male. Right before he hit the ground the Toraono took a whiff of the air and caught, among the smell of death, something that wasn’t either gender that he could tell. It didn’t even smell human.
His shoulder hit the cold sand and he rolled with his invisibility still up but right as he started to lift his head the imposing figure was already standing before him reaching out. The teenager froze. As that hand moved to grab for him all he could see was the aura of death and terror surrounding it. It was as if the group had somehow the misfortune to encounter the literal incarnation of Death. Before the hand could touch him Kikin appeared behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso with one arm holding his left up and away from the tan boy.
“Go!” She screamed at him, “Grab the wounded and get out of here! Now!”
The beast reached behind him with the free arm and grabbed her throat, but before he could do anything an already injured Hakiru darted in and slammed a chakra pressure point with his open palm. The look of fury and desperation covered his face along with the blood that poured from a head wound. He wanted to stay and fight. This felt like he was just falling into his cowardice again to turn tail and run but before he knew it he was looking back at the two elite shinobi doing everything in their power to keep the monster at bay.
Scrambling as fast as he could the teenager rushed back to the gathering of tents for survivors. Of the sixteen all but five, including himself and the two elites, were either dead or critically injured. One woman was holding a broken leg and trying not to think about the pain while the other guy was doing his best to try and use medical jutsu to heal it even though blood was seeping out his side through his clothes. Grabbing the man’s hand in desperation Michino willed his chakra into it to help heal the broken leg a little faster. It was draining, but, she was finally able to get up on her feet. The three of them grabbed a single pack from one of the tents and took off into the night towards Suna. The Toraono turned his head back to see the moonlight silhouetting the beast of a man as he literally eviscerated one of the elites over his head with a roar. The teen turned his head away from the screams and ran as hard as he could.
It only took the three of them an hour to make it to the gates. They didn’t see anymore signs of the thing that attacked them but Michino did end up carrying the male shinobi over his shoulder for the last ten minutes. As the three came up breathlessly to the gates the guards rushed to meet them and pulled them inside fast. The teenager and the kinochi were given blankets and placed near fires to warm up while the third was quickly taken to the hospital. They told their story to be passed on immediately to the Kazekage. When they asked if the group of injured made it back the guards said that they had only seen the three of them even though Housetsu should of made it back with his team of injured nearly a full day ahead of the others.
There was no celebration that following morning. Only preparations to go retrieve the bodies.