| [Jun. 10th, 2013|04:08 am] |
A twang of chakra and a flurry of swearing brought Raidou slipping out of the shadows to inspect trap forty-two. He was particularly proud of this one; the mesh net had all kinds of sneaky jutsu built into it.
He reached the clearing and stopped.
A little too sneaky, apparently.
“God-fucking-dammit, Namiashi!” yelled a slim ANBU with a grasshopper mask. He was bundled high up on the side of a bending ash tree, thrashing in the net. Blood streaked and splattered the pale bark, dark red in the dim forest light.
That’d be the fish hooks Raidou had woven in.
“The hell are you doing in my quadrant, Omashi?” he said blankly.
“Oh, y’know, tea-partying,” said Omashi. “I’m bleeding, you giant stupid fucktruck. Let me down!”
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Raidou asked, crouching at the tree’s base to inspect the seal.
“You wanna talk moms, Namiashi? Because I’m about to get real detailed about yours,” Omashi spat.
Raidou paused. The tone of voice was right, but— “Which one?” he said.
“What?” said Omashi.
“Which mom?” said Raidou, sitting back on his heels and looking up. “I have two.”
There was a pause. “Either mom!” Omashi said.
“Well, let’s get specific. If you’re gonna threaten a man’s mother, you should at least have a basic idea of your target. No one likes an empty threat.” Raidou stood up. “Omashi’s met both my moms, by the way.”
There was a longer pause.
“Goddammit,” said the person in the trap, and dropped the illusion. Raidou blinked at the sudden reveal of curves, braided red hair, and a sweet round face that included lipstick.
“Tottori,” he said, recognizing the candidate notable for her giant-ass fan and a collection of neat, dangerous ninjutsu techniques. “That was pretty good. You had me going for a minute there.”
She gave him a narrow, green-eyed look. “Really?”
He see-sawed one hand. “About four seconds. How do you know Omashi?”
“He babysits for my sister,” Tottori lied blatantly. “What did you put in this net that jutsu won’t break?”
“Kitten whiskers,” Raidou said, grinning. “And chakra-drinkers.”
“Clever,” she said, in a tone that mostly implied annoying. “Now what? I assume you don’t intend to slit my throat.”
“Nope,” Raidou said. He crouched and tapped the seal again, making it glow under his fingers. “Now you get to go home, explain what you did wrong, and, I’m guessing, try out for Intel, because there’s no way you should know who I am, or how Omashi talks to me, unless you’re good at getting information you shouldn’t have.”
The dark purple curve of her mouth was proud, but also a little sad. “I really wanted to make ANBU,” she said, quiet enough that he almost didn’t catch it.
“Try again in September, then,” he said, and activated the Heaven and Earth scroll hidden above the trap. The net lit up, twisted, and sucked out of existence, taking Tottori with it. Someone in Konoha would have the job of peeling her out of it and extracting the hooks.
He tapped the radio comm collared at his throat, raising a bust of static in the earpiece. “Tottori down,” he said. “Made herself look like Omashi. Clever jutsu.”
Static hissed for a moment, then Omashi came on the line. “What the fu—”
“You need to swear less, man,” Raidou said, and signed back off as the other hunters laughed.
Out of twenty-two, that was three reported candidates down. He hoped the next one was just as interesting. |
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