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Shiori was quite familiar with the good doctor, he was her mentor’s husband when she was a youth. He was a good man, the only thing he loved more than his wife was children, it was a shame they never had any. She visited him on occasion, he seemed lonely. Her time spent was never long, it seemed as if he got sadder when she was around. She was determined that she would prove his innocent and set the record straight.
She could not read so she depended on the secretary to read off the details to her. She frowned at the notion that Doctor Sato would do this. She shook her head in disbelief as she tried to rattle these bad thoughts out of her head. “No, not him…” she told herself. “Thank you for the mission,” Shiori responded graciously as she gave the secretary a respectful nod and took the mission slip from her. She would destroy it, she did not want any evidence of this accusation. She tore the paper into tiny pieces and stuffed them into her pocket as she departed the office.
He lived in a big place near the center of the city. It was made of marble and looked more like an above-ground residence than the subterranean abodes she was accustomed to. She of course had never heard a community above the earth as her entire life was spent underground. She sighed audibly as she reached the front door, a heavy wooden thing with shiny brad hinges and knob that felt smooth under her hand. “He always had the neatest stuff.” She rapped thrice on his door and it creaked open on the third knock as it was unlocked.
“Hello?” Shiori called into the seemingly vacant home. She could hear her voice bounce off the walls and down the hall. Which each reverberation she searched for him, perhaps sitting in his chair by the crystal-place, a small pedestal that housed a large gem that she was told shone brightly and gave off a fair amount of heat. Sato told her once that the crystal was his wife’s heart and he would watch it fade in and out with each heartbeat. He said that the rhythm soothed him and made him feel close to his late wife. His wife was not dead but Shiori considered her to be, she was gravely injured in an accident and has been in a coma ever since. She knew that Kana would never wake up again but her husband never lost hope.
It was then that she found him, he was on the floor not moving. He had a glass in his hand that mist have shattered during the fall she supposed. “Doctor Sato!” Shiori shrieked as she dashed down the hallway towards the location she “saw” him. “Mother Suna,” Shiori gasped breathlessly as she knelt by his side. His heart was beating, but his pulse was thread. His breaths were shallow and ragged. Shiori grabbed him by the shoulders and violently shook him, he was soaking wet and as limp as a ragdoll. She could not find an injury on his as she sightlessly felt his body, there was no blood or deformity. “Doctor!” Shiori screamed in a panic. “How can I help him? What is wrong with him?” She tried a healing technique on him, she pressed her hand against his breastbone but there was no difference. “Doctor!” Shiori cried out again as she tried another, Resuscitate. He let out a low groan and Shiori rolled him onto his side. “Doctor Sato…”
“Don’t call me that…” Doctor Sato coughed, “my father was Doctor Sato. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Akira.”
“Doc--, I mean Akira… what happened? Are you OK?”
Akira retched, bile mixed with wine painted the floor next to him. “I think I might have been poisoned my dear,” he answered as he wiped a string of vomit from the side of his mouth. “What are you doing here anyways? Shouldn’t you be off with your friends? Sitting alongside an old man like myself is no place for a pretty young thing like you.”
Shiori was not necessarily pretty by conventional standards. She never wore make-up because she could not see it. She always dressed like an escapee from an asylum despite her best efforts to dress nice. But he always had a kind word for her and never once brought up how odd she looked. “I am working today,” Shiori answered honestly. “I have to find some bad people… do you need a drink of water?”
“No, I will be fine in a few minutes. Thank Mother Suna you came when you did.” He smiled with the words he said, it had been awhile since she heard an actual smile from the solemn widower. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Um, yes…” Shiori answered reluctantly as she helped him up and walked him over to his favorite reclining chair. “I will never lie to you Doctor,” Shiori added as she busied herself with getting him a glass of water although he never asked for it.
“Okaasan… Shiori, what did I say about calling me Doctor,” Akira reminded her as he rested his head against the plush cushion of his chair. Next to him was his crystal, only now it was dark. Shiori could not see this difference due to her deficit but the good doctor was quite aware of this and said nothing.
“I was sent here to investigate you,” Shiori frowned as she took a seat by his feet much like a child would when their grandparent was about to tell them a story.
“Oh?” Sato responded with a singular raised brow, his interest seemingly piqued.
“Did you do anything to hurt those people that died in surgery? You know, the cholecystectomy that suffered brain death on the table… or the rotator cuff repair… or that carpal tunnel case?” Shiori could not look at him when she asked, not that it made any difference, she could see him clearly but she was embarrassed that she even had to ask. Of course he had nothing to do with those cases, he did not even do surgery on any of them. The fact that she was even here was infuriating. The more she thought about it the angrier she got as she balled her tiny hand into a fist.
“Now-now…” Sato announced in a soothing voice. “It is only logical that they would question me but they are questioning the wrong person. You see, the anesthesiologist is the one that monitors the oxygen levels and anesthesia, not the surgeon. Also, different anesthesiologists are used for children and adults because each has different metabolisms and proper dosages. That is why none of my patients shared the fate of those unfortunate people,” he explained in a calm controlled voice. He had everything together, he was such a smart guy; no wonder Akane-sensei loved him.
Shiori let out a sigh of relief. “Thank Mother Suna…” she muttered before she turned to face him. She was smiling. “I am so glad,” Shiori announced as she got herself up and gave Doctor Sato a bear hug. “I am so glad,” she repeated, her face buried into him. She breathed in his scent, she wondered why older men always smelled that way – a distinguished light musky scent that was clean but not sterile, somehow manly without smelling like meat.
“It is alright. If everyone’s patients but mine were dying for no reason, it would be logical to assume that it was me. Every other doctor watched their patient die but me, nobody pays attention to the anesthesiologist.”
“That means someone was framing Sato,” she mentally announced. “That &^%$#*!” she cussed to herself. But which one? That would be the real question. Obviously it would not have been the pediatric anesthesiologist, he would not have been in the room because he had no reason. Each of these deaths occurred on a day that Sato was not working, that is why his room was open. So who was using that room? Why would they want to make him look bad? She mentally wrestled with the possibilities but nobody could come to mind. “Who would do this to you?” Shiori inquired at a loss.
The doctor chuckled at her response. “Obviously nobody worth worrying too greatly about, after all I was able to explain how it was not me quite easily. Using someone’s room and omitting all of their patients only brings the spotlight on me temporarily. You need’nt worry.”
“Well, it is kinda my job to find out who,” Shiori pushed for an answer. She was certainly doing a poor job at that, she had no idea where to go next or who to contact, for some reason the investigation just stopped at Doctor Sato’s feet.
“…Well,” Doctor Sato started to say with a slight hesitation. “…If I were to guess, I would point my finger in the direction of Kayne,” he announced finally. “He is a newer anesthesiologist who started a few months ago. Apparently he is the bastard son of another wealthy Sunan family. His funds seem limitless and he is trying to privatize medicine. He has a small clinic set-up and it is likely that he is going to use the fact that the tower was damaged as an opportunity to overtake the medical market with a well… intact medical structure. If we appeared negligent or at the very least incompetent in our roles by having several needless deaths, business would transition to his small clinic.” He reasoned as he reached for a glass of something to drink. “With the tower down I am not sure of why he continued, perhaps he discovered that he liked killing people,” he added in an ominous tone.
“That’s terrible…” Shiori muttered. Doing all of this for business was downright despicable but he was going to pay for what he did. She was angry but who could blame her, she took on this mission because she overheard his name mentioned in whispers to prove his innocence and now she almost has, she only needs to find this Kayne fellow. She had a good idea where he would be, he was likely in the same place everyone was from the tower when not at work: The Recovery Room, a small bar near the hospital setting that many medical workers frequented when off shift.
A short time later she was at the Recovery Room. Sato contacted members of the ANBU who he said were heading to Kayne’s home while she attempted to intercept him at the bar. She came alone of course and took a seat near the young anesthesiologist. He was not interested in her, or in women at all. He had no interest in men either, he was a loner who liked to sulk in the corner. His unnaturally blonde hair was wild as it always was. He dressed casually as he always did even when on duty, ripped dark jeans and a sleeveless shirt that showed off his tattooed arms. “Sup,” he greeted out of social obligation as he returned to his frosty mug of dark ale.
“Hey,” Shiori replied in a social tone as she sat herself on the neighboring stool and ordered a vodka in tonic, her drink of choice. “I just got back from the hospital,” Shiori announced in a tone loud enough that only Kayne would hear. She started humming a tune meant only for him, the tune was the activation of a genjutsu to disable him. “They caught onto your secret…”
She was a master illusionist despite never seeing the images she created, the mind of the subject creates the world directed. The mind is a curious thing with its great capacity to rationalize. FEAR also does this, it takes over logic, reason and ambition and replaces it with the feral requirement of survival. Rejection, dishonor, and death or disability are specific fears but none really quantify fear for what it truly is: the sense of weakness, inability and knowledge of one’s impending demise. The trepidation and paranoia that accompanies this is nothing more than a result really.
“What secret!” He snapped as he chucked his glass at the wall. The wasted ale stank up the air and shattered pieces of heavy glass littered the floor. “There is no way you would know about that!” He stood himself up, he was not a man of substantial size, quite the contrary being about 5 foot 6 and one-hundred and seventy pounds he was actually a medium-framed young man that appeared to be less than physically intimidating. He was not a physical fighter though, rather he was a fire ninjutsuist. His hands danced through a series of handseals Shiori was unfamiliar with and then she suddenly burst into flames. The searing pain was everywhere, her arms, her legs, her face. She screamed out in pain unable to concentrate temporarily.
She cried out as she attempted to sing another tune. It was a dark, miserable melody befitting one ensconced in flames. “Nocturne of Shadow” was the name of the terrible song she played. Meant to pull at the sinews of the heart in such a way as to make existence a state of indifference. In the wicked haze there was little difference between life and death, blessings and wretchedness. She hoped that her song would be enough to force his next attack to miss, which it did. Her still burning flesh missed his second fiery barrage. By now some of the bar patrons had also become involved. Although Shiori’s first genjutsu was no more, the lingering effect of the attack would still be fresh in his memory.
“Hey buddy, what’s your problem?” A burly patron announced as he came to the Shiori’s side and faced Kayne. As all of Shiori’s attacks have been illusionary and cast through song, only a fellow clansmen might recognize but even then it is doubtful that any two such people exist. “Gwet owta hwere!” Kayne roared, disoriented from Shiori’s second song that she continued to faintly hum. He unleashed a massive blast of explosive heat that sent the Good Samaritan staggering back unharmed.
A second patron had pulled off his jacked and was attempting to put his jacket over Shiori’s back in an attempt to start putting out the flames. Shiori shook him away, not that she did not wish for this burning torment to end but rather because she needed to subdue Kayne still. Her mind attempted to review her options as they were few, she was primarily a healer. Why had she even decided to accept this mission? It was loosely associated with medicine – there was an investigation into the ill deeds performed on the patients and the perpetrator needed to be brought to justice. This was something a real-ninja should be doing though, the apprehending part that is. She let out a sonic scream with her hands rather than her throat that continued to sing despite growing raspy from inhaling the smoke of her burning flesh. It was a painful attack but far from devastating, it was more disorienting than anything else. She leaned into the man behind her who was still trying to put out her flames. The cool air over the patches of flesh where the flames had been extinguished were of great respite as time seemed to halt during this fray.
What else could she do? She could not attack him with healing. Her illusions are just that, illusions. They don’t harm anyone or if they do the pain is mediocre at best. Always one to take on a supportive role in battle it was only now that she realized that she was incapable of doing this on her own. Her skill in wind and sound techniques might be proficient and her chances of successfully landing whatever she might use was great because of her song, she was incapable of finishing him off or truly getting him beaten down.
So this is what being scared feels like…
She was going to lose this fight unless someone helped her. That was true, someone has always been there her entire life to lift her up and to help her. From her parental figures who pulled her from the emptiness to her cousin to whom she has been perpetually attached to since childhood. She was really useless.
It was then that Sato arrived as if on cue, the hero saving the ancillary characters in a story. A source for the first time of shame for Shiori as she realized that she was the ancillary character, not the other way around. She moved her burning hands through another series of seals while her song was sung. It was the same melody, only shrill with physical and emotional pain. Her hands clapped together upon the completion of the final seal to release a massive boom that Kayne did not avoid but it was readily apparent that there was little need for him to try considering the mind damage he took from this attack.
Sato had a long gleaming blade slung over his shoulder. She had heard rumors that he was a swordsman but had never heard him with his weapon. He sliced through what seemed to be only air as the blade did not slow in the motions he made, it was not until the blood spurted out from Kayne was it apparent that he had been mortally struck by a series of attacks although the eye only visualized a single sweep. Kayne started to cauterize the wound but as he tried Sato’s blade swept by again, this time severing Kayne’s hand from his body.
“We found the evidence,” Sato announced, the first words he said since arriving.
“You!” Kayne shouted as blood sprayed from his mouth. His trembling hands started to run through a series of increasingly familiar handseals with a single hand but before his final seal could be completed another slash sliced into Kayne’s neck. Kayne fell to the ground in a pool of blood. The walls of the bar were scorched, bodily juices had sprayed over all areas adjacent. Although Kayne’s death was swift it was also brutal. A team of ANBU spilled in after Sato and wordlessly picked up the either dead or almost so culprit.
The flames had dissipated at the same time as Kayne had fallen. Shiori was burned but her injuries were not life-threatening but she was more injured than her opponent before Sato had arrived. Thank you she mouthed, her voice too sore from her song and the flame. “You’ll be alright,” Sato notified her as if she was not already aware. That was the only thing she seemed to be good for after all. “We found all the evidence we needed on him and then some,” Sato confided. “He was storing anesthetic materials in his home as well as some poisons that we are not familiar with,” he added. “There were even some belongings from two of his victims found in his home.”
Shiori let out a series of hacking coughs in reply before looking towards him gratefully. She was more embarrassed than grateful. She thought she could handle this. She thought she could do better but she was not capable of doing anything of the sort. “The kill would not have been so clean for Kurokiga if it was not for you.” Although that might have been true, her presence was still unnecessary besides the fact that she brought the information to her friend who was then able to point her (and thus the investigation) in the correct direction. She did not say anything, she did not want to answer him. For the first time in a long time she had nothing to say.
She started to write out her report to drop off:
WC: aprox. 3930
Link to Mission Request: LINK
Shiori was quite familiar with the good doctor, he was her mentor’s husband when she was a youth. He was a good man, the only thing he loved more than his wife was children, it was a shame they never had any. She visited him on occasion, he seemed lonely. Her time spent was never long, it seemed as if he got sadder when she was around. She was determined that she would prove his innocent and set the record straight.
She could not read so she depended on the secretary to read off the details to her. She frowned at the notion that Doctor Sato would do this. She shook her head in disbelief as she tried to rattle these bad thoughts out of her head. “No, not him…” she told herself. “Thank you for the mission,” Shiori responded graciously as she gave the secretary a respectful nod and took the mission slip from her. She would destroy it, she did not want any evidence of this accusation. She tore the paper into tiny pieces and stuffed them into her pocket as she departed the office.
He lived in a big place near the center of the city. It was made of marble and looked more like an above-ground residence than the subterranean abodes she was accustomed to. She of course had never heard a community above the earth as her entire life was spent underground. She sighed audibly as she reached the front door, a heavy wooden thing with shiny brad hinges and knob that felt smooth under her hand. “He always had the neatest stuff.” She rapped thrice on his door and it creaked open on the third knock as it was unlocked.
“Hello?” Shiori called into the seemingly vacant home. She could hear her voice bounce off the walls and down the hall. Which each reverberation she searched for him, perhaps sitting in his chair by the crystal-place, a small pedestal that housed a large gem that she was told shone brightly and gave off a fair amount of heat. Sato told her once that the crystal was his wife’s heart and he would watch it fade in and out with each heartbeat. He said that the rhythm soothed him and made him feel close to his late wife. His wife was not dead but Shiori considered her to be, she was gravely injured in an accident and has been in a coma ever since. She knew that Kana would never wake up again but her husband never lost hope.
It was then that she found him, he was on the floor not moving. He had a glass in his hand that mist have shattered during the fall she supposed. “Doctor Sato!” Shiori shrieked as she dashed down the hallway towards the location she “saw” him. “Mother Suna,” Shiori gasped breathlessly as she knelt by his side. His heart was beating, but his pulse was thread. His breaths were shallow and ragged. Shiori grabbed him by the shoulders and violently shook him, he was soaking wet and as limp as a ragdoll. She could not find an injury on his as she sightlessly felt his body, there was no blood or deformity. “Doctor!” Shiori screamed in a panic. “How can I help him? What is wrong with him?” She tried a healing technique on him, she pressed her hand against his breastbone but there was no difference. “Doctor!” Shiori cried out again as she tried another, Resuscitate. He let out a low groan and Shiori rolled him onto his side. “Doctor Sato…”
“Don’t call me that…” Doctor Sato coughed, “my father was Doctor Sato. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Akira.”
“Doc--, I mean Akira… what happened? Are you OK?”
Akira retched, bile mixed with wine painted the floor next to him. “I think I might have been poisoned my dear,” he answered as he wiped a string of vomit from the side of his mouth. “What are you doing here anyways? Shouldn’t you be off with your friends? Sitting alongside an old man like myself is no place for a pretty young thing like you.”
Shiori was not necessarily pretty by conventional standards. She never wore make-up because she could not see it. She always dressed like an escapee from an asylum despite her best efforts to dress nice. But he always had a kind word for her and never once brought up how odd she looked. “I am working today,” Shiori answered honestly. “I have to find some bad people… do you need a drink of water?”
“No, I will be fine in a few minutes. Thank Mother Suna you came when you did.” He smiled with the words he said, it had been awhile since she heard an actual smile from the solemn widower. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Um, yes…” Shiori answered reluctantly as she helped him up and walked him over to his favorite reclining chair. “I will never lie to you Doctor,” Shiori added as she busied herself with getting him a glass of water although he never asked for it.
“Okaasan… Shiori, what did I say about calling me Doctor,” Akira reminded her as he rested his head against the plush cushion of his chair. Next to him was his crystal, only now it was dark. Shiori could not see this difference due to her deficit but the good doctor was quite aware of this and said nothing.
“I was sent here to investigate you,” Shiori frowned as she took a seat by his feet much like a child would when their grandparent was about to tell them a story.
“Oh?” Sato responded with a singular raised brow, his interest seemingly piqued.
“Did you do anything to hurt those people that died in surgery? You know, the cholecystectomy that suffered brain death on the table… or the rotator cuff repair… or that carpal tunnel case?” Shiori could not look at him when she asked, not that it made any difference, she could see him clearly but she was embarrassed that she even had to ask. Of course he had nothing to do with those cases, he did not even do surgery on any of them. The fact that she was even here was infuriating. The more she thought about it the angrier she got as she balled her tiny hand into a fist.
“Now-now…” Sato announced in a soothing voice. “It is only logical that they would question me but they are questioning the wrong person. You see, the anesthesiologist is the one that monitors the oxygen levels and anesthesia, not the surgeon. Also, different anesthesiologists are used for children and adults because each has different metabolisms and proper dosages. That is why none of my patients shared the fate of those unfortunate people,” he explained in a calm controlled voice. He had everything together, he was such a smart guy; no wonder Akane-sensei loved him.
Shiori let out a sigh of relief. “Thank Mother Suna…” she muttered before she turned to face him. She was smiling. “I am so glad,” Shiori announced as she got herself up and gave Doctor Sato a bear hug. “I am so glad,” she repeated, her face buried into him. She breathed in his scent, she wondered why older men always smelled that way – a distinguished light musky scent that was clean but not sterile, somehow manly without smelling like meat.
“It is alright. If everyone’s patients but mine were dying for no reason, it would be logical to assume that it was me. Every other doctor watched their patient die but me, nobody pays attention to the anesthesiologist.”
*CLICK*
“That means someone was framing Sato,” she mentally announced. “That &^%$#*!” she cussed to herself. But which one? That would be the real question. Obviously it would not have been the pediatric anesthesiologist, he would not have been in the room because he had no reason. Each of these deaths occurred on a day that Sato was not working, that is why his room was open. So who was using that room? Why would they want to make him look bad? She mentally wrestled with the possibilities but nobody could come to mind. “Who would do this to you?” Shiori inquired at a loss.
The doctor chuckled at her response. “Obviously nobody worth worrying too greatly about, after all I was able to explain how it was not me quite easily. Using someone’s room and omitting all of their patients only brings the spotlight on me temporarily. You need’nt worry.”
“Well, it is kinda my job to find out who,” Shiori pushed for an answer. She was certainly doing a poor job at that, she had no idea where to go next or who to contact, for some reason the investigation just stopped at Doctor Sato’s feet.
“…Well,” Doctor Sato started to say with a slight hesitation. “…If I were to guess, I would point my finger in the direction of Kayne,” he announced finally. “He is a newer anesthesiologist who started a few months ago. Apparently he is the bastard son of another wealthy Sunan family. His funds seem limitless and he is trying to privatize medicine. He has a small clinic set-up and it is likely that he is going to use the fact that the tower was damaged as an opportunity to overtake the medical market with a well… intact medical structure. If we appeared negligent or at the very least incompetent in our roles by having several needless deaths, business would transition to his small clinic.” He reasoned as he reached for a glass of something to drink. “With the tower down I am not sure of why he continued, perhaps he discovered that he liked killing people,” he added in an ominous tone.
“That’s terrible…” Shiori muttered. Doing all of this for business was downright despicable but he was going to pay for what he did. She was angry but who could blame her, she took on this mission because she overheard his name mentioned in whispers to prove his innocence and now she almost has, she only needs to find this Kayne fellow. She had a good idea where he would be, he was likely in the same place everyone was from the tower when not at work: The Recovery Room, a small bar near the hospital setting that many medical workers frequented when off shift.
***
A short time later she was at the Recovery Room. Sato contacted members of the ANBU who he said were heading to Kayne’s home while she attempted to intercept him at the bar. She came alone of course and took a seat near the young anesthesiologist. He was not interested in her, or in women at all. He had no interest in men either, he was a loner who liked to sulk in the corner. His unnaturally blonde hair was wild as it always was. He dressed casually as he always did even when on duty, ripped dark jeans and a sleeveless shirt that showed off his tattooed arms. “Sup,” he greeted out of social obligation as he returned to his frosty mug of dark ale.
“Hey,” Shiori replied in a social tone as she sat herself on the neighboring stool and ordered a vodka in tonic, her drink of choice. “I just got back from the hospital,” Shiori announced in a tone loud enough that only Kayne would hear. She started humming a tune meant only for him, the tune was the activation of a genjutsu to disable him. “They caught onto your secret…”
She was a master illusionist despite never seeing the images she created, the mind of the subject creates the world directed. The mind is a curious thing with its great capacity to rationalize. FEAR also does this, it takes over logic, reason and ambition and replaces it with the feral requirement of survival. Rejection, dishonor, and death or disability are specific fears but none really quantify fear for what it truly is: the sense of weakness, inability and knowledge of one’s impending demise. The trepidation and paranoia that accompanies this is nothing more than a result really.
“What secret!” He snapped as he chucked his glass at the wall. The wasted ale stank up the air and shattered pieces of heavy glass littered the floor. “There is no way you would know about that!” He stood himself up, he was not a man of substantial size, quite the contrary being about 5 foot 6 and one-hundred and seventy pounds he was actually a medium-framed young man that appeared to be less than physically intimidating. He was not a physical fighter though, rather he was a fire ninjutsuist. His hands danced through a series of handseals Shiori was unfamiliar with and then she suddenly burst into flames. The searing pain was everywhere, her arms, her legs, her face. She screamed out in pain unable to concentrate temporarily.
She cried out as she attempted to sing another tune. It was a dark, miserable melody befitting one ensconced in flames. “Nocturne of Shadow” was the name of the terrible song she played. Meant to pull at the sinews of the heart in such a way as to make existence a state of indifference. In the wicked haze there was little difference between life and death, blessings and wretchedness. She hoped that her song would be enough to force his next attack to miss, which it did. Her still burning flesh missed his second fiery barrage. By now some of the bar patrons had also become involved. Although Shiori’s first genjutsu was no more, the lingering effect of the attack would still be fresh in his memory.
“Hey buddy, what’s your problem?” A burly patron announced as he came to the Shiori’s side and faced Kayne. As all of Shiori’s attacks have been illusionary and cast through song, only a fellow clansmen might recognize but even then it is doubtful that any two such people exist. “Gwet owta hwere!” Kayne roared, disoriented from Shiori’s second song that she continued to faintly hum. He unleashed a massive blast of explosive heat that sent the Good Samaritan staggering back unharmed.
A second patron had pulled off his jacked and was attempting to put his jacket over Shiori’s back in an attempt to start putting out the flames. Shiori shook him away, not that she did not wish for this burning torment to end but rather because she needed to subdue Kayne still. Her mind attempted to review her options as they were few, she was primarily a healer. Why had she even decided to accept this mission? It was loosely associated with medicine – there was an investigation into the ill deeds performed on the patients and the perpetrator needed to be brought to justice. This was something a real-ninja should be doing though, the apprehending part that is. She let out a sonic scream with her hands rather than her throat that continued to sing despite growing raspy from inhaling the smoke of her burning flesh. It was a painful attack but far from devastating, it was more disorienting than anything else. She leaned into the man behind her who was still trying to put out her flames. The cool air over the patches of flesh where the flames had been extinguished were of great respite as time seemed to halt during this fray.
What else could she do? She could not attack him with healing. Her illusions are just that, illusions. They don’t harm anyone or if they do the pain is mediocre at best. Always one to take on a supportive role in battle it was only now that she realized that she was incapable of doing this on her own. Her skill in wind and sound techniques might be proficient and her chances of successfully landing whatever she might use was great because of her song, she was incapable of finishing him off or truly getting him beaten down.
So this is what being scared feels like…
She was going to lose this fight unless someone helped her. That was true, someone has always been there her entire life to lift her up and to help her. From her parental figures who pulled her from the emptiness to her cousin to whom she has been perpetually attached to since childhood. She was really useless.
It was then that Sato arrived as if on cue, the hero saving the ancillary characters in a story. A source for the first time of shame for Shiori as she realized that she was the ancillary character, not the other way around. She moved her burning hands through another series of seals while her song was sung. It was the same melody, only shrill with physical and emotional pain. Her hands clapped together upon the completion of the final seal to release a massive boom that Kayne did not avoid but it was readily apparent that there was little need for him to try considering the mind damage he took from this attack.
Sato had a long gleaming blade slung over his shoulder. She had heard rumors that he was a swordsman but had never heard him with his weapon. He sliced through what seemed to be only air as the blade did not slow in the motions he made, it was not until the blood spurted out from Kayne was it apparent that he had been mortally struck by a series of attacks although the eye only visualized a single sweep. Kayne started to cauterize the wound but as he tried Sato’s blade swept by again, this time severing Kayne’s hand from his body.
“We found the evidence,” Sato announced, the first words he said since arriving.
“You!” Kayne shouted as blood sprayed from his mouth. His trembling hands started to run through a series of increasingly familiar handseals with a single hand but before his final seal could be completed another slash sliced into Kayne’s neck. Kayne fell to the ground in a pool of blood. The walls of the bar were scorched, bodily juices had sprayed over all areas adjacent. Although Kayne’s death was swift it was also brutal. A team of ANBU spilled in after Sato and wordlessly picked up the either dead or almost so culprit.
The flames had dissipated at the same time as Kayne had fallen. Shiori was burned but her injuries were not life-threatening but she was more injured than her opponent before Sato had arrived. Thank you she mouthed, her voice too sore from her song and the flame. “You’ll be alright,” Sato notified her as if she was not already aware. That was the only thing she seemed to be good for after all. “We found all the evidence we needed on him and then some,” Sato confided. “He was storing anesthetic materials in his home as well as some poisons that we are not familiar with,” he added. “There were even some belongings from two of his victims found in his home.”
Shiori let out a series of hacking coughs in reply before looking towards him gratefully. She was more embarrassed than grateful. She thought she could handle this. She thought she could do better but she was not capable of doing anything of the sort. “The kill would not have been so clean for Kurokiga if it was not for you.” Although that might have been true, her presence was still unnecessary besides the fact that she brought the information to her friend who was then able to point her (and thus the investigation) in the correct direction. She did not say anything, she did not want to answer him. For the first time in a long time she had nothing to say.
She started to write out her report to drop off:
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WC: aprox. 3930
Link to Mission Request: LINK