"Quit staring at my hair."

Everyone always, always stared at his bow, and they acted surprised when he figured it out. Ryuichi was staring at the wall directly in front of him, contemplating banging his head against it, and wondering if the positive benefits would outweigh the headache. He'd be awake, but his head would hurt. Fuck. No way. That would be worse. Fuck Intel for having the Mission-Briefs this early in the fucking morning. Sometimes Ryuichi wondered if they did it on purpose. It would fit with what he knew of the branch, and how many people he'd managed to piss-off who hailed from it.

Gekkou Hayate was two years younger and two inches taller than Ryuichi. He didn't look like a special-jounin, (too skinny for prolonged-taijutsu, and didn't feel like genjutsu), but was a reputed genius with a sword. With a build like that, he'd be fast when he put his mind to it, favoring that over brute strength. Ryuichi wasn't sure about the kid's stamina, but that was what soldier-pills were for.

The mission wasn't simple, but nether was it truly complicated. Ryuichi rubbed his eyes, trying to force the sleep out of them.

Fucking Intel.

"Alright, I'm a weapons specialist, can use just about anything, but prefer blades. Good with close-in, good with long-distance. No genjutsu, and you don't want me casting ninjutsu," Ryuichi told his partner, still staring at the wall. "Don't come up on my right side, don't ask me to talk to people."

He turned his head slightly. "An' you?

Hayate almost flinched at the abrupt demand, and instantly put up one of his best polite smiles. It faded only slightly when Ryuichi gave him a rundown of his skills. Hayate nodded, and carefully tucked the information away--that was very helpful.

"Me? Close-combat, mostly, and I use a katana." Obvious enough, he thought with a mental wince, as he reached up and back to touch the hilt nestled just above his left shoulder. He nibbled on his lip a moment, and cleared his throat before continuing. "Ninjutsu--ah, standard fare, and my genjutsu's just passable." His little smile took on a wry twist. He really needed to work on that, if he ever intended to make full jounin. "I tend to close fast and keep it that way. I'm not really one for distance."
 
He fished a piece of candy from his pocket and popped the honey-sweet into his mouth, to keep his cough from rearing its ugly head this early in the morning. So far today had been a good day....which probably would stop being good as soon as he went from the warm air within headquarters to the winter cold outside.

Hayate stepped up beside Ryuichi--after a brief pause to make sure it was the man's left side--and offered him a second piece of candy. It was only polite, after all. And it was best to start things off on the right foot.

There was a short pause as Ryuichi absorbed the information. They'd be best in close-combat, in their zones of specialty. For this mission, Intel would have been better off giving it to agents with better middle-range combat skills. Full-jounin would have been good, and maybe a good-looking kunoichi, because damned if Ryuichi knew why, but they had a talent for putting civilians at ease. Instead they'd sent in two rookies, one who was shy, and the other who ended up getting fists in his face more than he did polite smiles.

If he had seen Hayate's, Ryuichi might have been impressed, but he had returned to staring at the wall. Painted gray, and dented where kunai and other such things had made contact with it, it wasn't anything to be impressed with. It seemed that a great deal of other agents shared his views on it. Ryuichi wasn't surprised at all. Stupid wall. Why did it have to be so early? Well, for anyone else, it would have been a decent hour. In his experience, other shinobi were freaks of nature when it came to functioning in the morning. He wondered if it was from taking too many Soldier Pills. Maybe. It would fit, given how many over-doses happened.

He gave Hayate a sideways look, with an eyebrow raised, when the candy was offered. Exactly how new was this kid to Black Ops? Okay, not a kid, higher rank, and taller to boot, but still. Kid. Sensei did end up having a lasting influence, damn it.

Ryuichi took it anyways, and after a pause, ate it. Honey. Well. What had he been expecting?

Not that.

"Thanks," he said, tone short.

There was another short pause. "Alright. You need to get more gear, or can we go now?"

All Ryuichi's weapons were in his scroll, and his armor was on, the fox-mask clipped to his belt. There was a rather large dent above its right eye, but it was otherwise in good repair. Fuck, he really was starting to talk like sensei. That wasn't a good thing at all. She was crazy.

"Mmm, I'm good."

And so he was, having come down to the briefing mission-ready. Sitting in a chair with a katana at one's back was remarkably uncomfortable, but Hayate was somewhat used to it by now.

Hayate shrugged his left shoulder, settling said katana more comfortably against his shoulder-blade. It was a bit early to be leaving, but it did not really matter. Well, there was the very cold weather they would be travelling in to consider.... Hayate was not fond of either cold or snow, and there was both aplenty outside. He clacked his candy absently against his teeth, then tucked the sweet into his cheek.
 
"Ready when you are," he told Ryuichi.

The weather wasn’t as bad as Ryuichi had thought it would be. There was wind, but it wasn’t very strong, just enough to keep you on your toes. The snow was light, powdery. The kind that little children bemoaned, because there was no way in hell to make ballistic weapons out of it. Bah. Ryuichi liked it just fine. It didn’t crunch when he stepped through it, and didn’t soak into his pants. Points to keep for the home team.

Getting to the caravan had been easy. Standard-cloak and armor kept them warm, though it wasn't designed very well for function in cold-weather. Still, it was enough. The trees provided jumping platforms so they didn't leave tracks, not that anyone would have much of a reason to be following them, but still. Caution was a virtue, and playing things safe was a good thing, even if it was a B-rank.

The merchant hadn’t seemed to like Ryuichi very much. Of course, that was normal, as very few of the clients ever liked him. Ryuichi had scowled (mask, can’t see it, ha), and then walked away to check the horses. He liked horses. They didn’t fidget when someone armed walked up to them.

Hayate could deal with the client. Being of a higher rank, and all.

“Oi, shinobi-san, why are you wearing a mask?”

Shit.

Ryuichi tensed, and the brown horse he'd been introducing himself to snorted in question, shaking its mane, a slightly lighter shade than the rest of its coat. With a small but sturdy body, it would have no trouble pulling the wagon, even in the snow. Horses made sense, which was why Ryuichi liked them. Little children, and especially civilian ones, didn't seem to like having logic applied to them.

Why was there a child here? Why was it asking him questions? Why wouldn’t it go away?

The kid was a boy with very short hair and dark green eyes, staring up at him with what Ryuichi thought was a very stupid expression. A mix between wonder and befuddlement. Bah. Why the hell was there a kid here? Merchants weren't supposed to bring kids along with them. It didn't work that way. Children messed everything up. It was a fact.

“Shinobi-san?”

Ryuichi tensed, and turned to the nearest horse. It whickered slightly, and he extended a glove out for it to sniff. It huffed, breath coming out in clouds around its wide muzzle. The child was still there.

“Hayate!”

Make it go away, his stance said, when the taller shinobi came over.

If this wasn't pathetic, Ryuichi didn't know what was.

Kondo Eiichi, the merchant, was obviously a little spooked by his requested guards, a fact which amused Hayate a bit. He was still not used to the effect of the mask and name he now bore. The well-dressed man kept his composure, however, and explained the route they would be taking and the duties of the regular guards employed. Hayate was glad for the detailed maps the Kondo displayed--he had a near-photographic memory, especially for things like maps.

Their destination was Tsumago, a prosperous civilian town a few miles within Grass Country borders. The trade-route they would be taking was a busy one, notoriously well-maintained and traveled. Hayate foresaw little dangers from bandits, but Kondo had shown both ANBU the impressively large sapphire. The man had a right to be nervous. Once at the town, the buyer would meet them, and the jewel would be sold--or so Kondo hoped, as the sale was no-where near final.

The discussion of maps and duties lasted not quite all of ten minutes, but Ryuichi deserted within the first three. Hayate was a little surprised, then left it off to memorize the maps. Kondo chattered a little, obviously nervous, but the job was simple and required little explanation. He had run out of things to say and was gathering up his maps by the time Ryuichi called Hayate.

Ryuichi was standing near the caravan's picketed horses, and looking down at a small child. The kid looked astonished by the masked figure in black. Hayate took in Ryuichi's stiff posture and nearly snorted--the other shinobi was obviously discomfited by the child's presence.

The boy's green eyes got wider as Hayate ghosted up, hardly making any noise in the soft snow. "Oh, you've got a mask too! Why're you wearing masks?"

Hayate's voice came out roughened by the cold and the urge to cough. "We're special shinobi," he told the kid. Beneath his cloak, his dug into his pocket and liberated a honey-sweet. He liked kids, and besides, children loved sugar. He palmed the candy and slipped a hand from under his coat.

The cold stung his fingers, and once again he hated fingerless gloves in winter, but the child's eyes lit up and he smiled brilliantly.

"Thanks, shinobi-san!" The boy took the sweet and tore off across the snow, delighted with his prize.

Hayate swiftly put his cold hand back under his warm cloak, and eyed Ryuichi with a faint smile. Apparently, to him, children were more unnerving than horses. Hayate couldn't quite agree--horses were pretty large creatures, especially this close. He found them rather alarming. 

Konoha-shinobi (or all shinobi, Ryuichi assumed, but he wasn't from anywhere else, and therefor couldn't say for sure) didn't always believe in anything resembling religion. Some did, and some didn't, and some couldn't make up their minds one way or another. Ryuichi didn't give much credit to the existence of gods. Praying never had done anything much for him, and if it helped some of his comrades to mutter things under their breath, well, that was their business, and not his. If asked, he'd give a raised eyebrow and nothing else, and the matter would be dropped.

Karma, on the other hand, Ryuichi was pretty sure that existed. Or, as sensei had been found of saying, "you don't kill a thing when you should, it'll come back and bite you on the ass". She'd fixed them all with a harsh glare, and went back to her whiskey after that, but it had stuck. Sometimes the odd things did. If you didn't do something right, or cut-corners when doing it, something would go wrong. That was a rule, and something that could be relied on. Ryuichi had seen it proved enough to know.

The child was gone. The fact that it had been there at all was probably because he'd ducked out of the map-discussion. Bah. Ryuichi knew what he needed to know, and Hayate could deal with the specifics. If the client had needed to say something, it would have been said in the beginning, and nothing had been.

He ruffled the horse's mane, and it snorted, flicking its large ears at him. Ryuichi thought it looked rather amused, if that was possible. Horses were good. They could tell when things were going wrong, and were kind enough to announce the fact, sometimes before the Bad Thing had had the chance to deal out real damage. Ryuichi planned to pay close attention to the horses during this mission.

Better than trying to deal with the civilians.

"Brat," Ryuichi muttered under his breath, and pulled his mask aside for a moment, letting the cold air hit his skin. It wasn't enough to make him blink, but only because he was used to the weather, and it rarely bothered him anyways. "Why'da they always bother me?"

He spat on the ground, and kicked the snow with a boot. The horse snorted, and ducked its head down, tail swishing back and forth. Ryuichi snapped his gaze over to Hayate. "Anything I need to know?"

Would have been easier if he'd just stayed, but that hadn't happened, and so.

"Well," was what Hayate tried to say. It hung badly in his throat and came out as a cough instead. The fit was short and sharp--the harsh, dry coughs were loud but that was all.

The sudden, loud noises startled the horse beside Ryuichi. It flung its head up and spooked sharply to the side, leaving dark marks in the light snowfall as its hooves turned up the earth. Ryuichi barely missed getting his head clipped by the horse's. The horse blew loudly at them, head high, ears pricked, eyes showing faint edges of white.

Ryuichi, mask on the side of his head and a full two steps from where he had begun, fixed Hayate with a furious glare.

Hayate hunched his shoulders and smiled sheepishly, though Ryuichi couldn't see the expression. "Ooops?" he offered, and his voice cracked and broke like any teenager's. He cleared his throat roughly.

Ryuichi's glare did not alter a fraction. Hayate bit his lip and mentally winced. Well. Um.

"Ah, Eiichi-san requested that we keep our masks on for the job," Hayate said hoarsely, after a cold moment. Might as well go on and deliver the uneasy news. "And he said the caravan's leaving as soon as they get harnessed up, which won't take too long. There's only three wagons."

“Stay away from the horses if you’re sick,” Ryuichi snapped, rather rudely, and pulled his mask back on. The brown horse was jerking at its tie, eyes rolling. He cursed softly, and moved in decisively, grabbing the halter, and bringing the frightened horse’s head down. It whinnied, and he murmured soothing things to it. Ryuichi knew horses well enough.

Hayate, it was pretty clear, didn’t. Bah.

“They spook again, assume it’s an enemy, and needs to be killed,” Ryuichi continued, still fussing with the horse. It had calmed down, mostly, though its nostrils were flared, and the tail was swishing back and forth furiously. He was surprised at that; most caravan-horses were calm. This one wasn’t. Maybe it wasn't in a good mood. Maybe it didn't like Hayate. Maybe it was the weather.

Probably it was all three. Life sometimes sucked in that way.

The mission was, so far, going smoothly. Ryuichi was still in a bad mood, and inclined to think that it wasn’t going to continue on that way for very long.

"I'm not sick," Hayate answered, reflexively.
 
He kept his distance from Ryuichi and the anxious horse, however. Horses were rather too large and moved too fast for something that big. Hayate was perfectly content to not get close.

Several people were fetching horses from the picket lines, and there was a good deal of general bustle starting up. Hayate recognized the general feel of "getting ready to leave," and watched with interest. Escorting was not a common job for ninja, nor was acting a typical body-guard, but when special circumstances--or large enough amounts of money--demanded it, Konoha would oblige.

One of the men came cautiously up. "Ah, pardon me, ANBU-san, but that horse..." he gestured to the one Ryuichi was petting. 

Well, if they were harnessing up the horses now, they couldn't be too far from leaving. Hayate hoped the trip would go well. He honestly didn't expect too much trouble--but there was always a chance.

‘Not sick’.

Right. In what alternative reality was that? ANBU didn’t take recruits with shitty heath. Not unless they were desperate for soldiers, and that didn’t usually happen unless there was a war, or something equally devastating. Besides, the Black Ops was the best of the best, and there would always be some fools who wanted to prove themselves, so there would always be fighters to don the masks. Ryuichi had done it, his sister had done it, and Hayate had, though how was something of a question.

Whatever. Hayate outranked him. Ryuichi wouldn’t snap at him unless he really did something to deserve it , though he was extremely tempted to see what it would take to make the younger ninja flinch. Probably would if Ryuichi yelled at him, though he didn’t really have a reason to do that.

Something to keep in mind, should the need arise.

He released the chestnut horse, ruffling its forelock one last time. It snorted, and butted his shoulder with its head, ears flicking slightly when it felt the armor under his cloak. The merchant who approached was fixed with a glare, though no one could see it under Ryuichi’s mask. The feeling was conveyed nonetheless, and the man stepped back, rather quickly, as Ryuichi stalked past, jerking a summoning scroll out of his belt-pouch.

“I’m going to scout ahead,” he said, turning back to look at Hayate, and slicing his finger open on the razor attacked to his thigh-holster, a trick he’d learned from Kotetsu. The hunting-bow ‘poofed’ into existence, along with a full quiver of arrows fletched with black feathers. The stiff ones were poisoned. “Do whatever you think works.”

In theory, a special-jounin would be smart enough to figure it out.

Hayate blinked as he was practically abandoned yet again by his mission partner. Well.

On the bright side, at least he's comparatively easy to work with. Hard to disagree with someone who isn't there, he decided.

The caravan was almost road ready. Hayate inserted himself into the general bustle. People tended to give him a fairly wide berth, when they noticed him. It was odd, the effect the shadowed cloak and mask had on everyday people. It was as though they knew they weren't supposed to see him, so they didn't. Not consciously, anyway. They still skirted him carefully, but they didn't speak to him or otherwise acknowledge his presence.
 
Hayate located Kondo, and got the usual caravan guards pointed out to him. The captain, one Inoue Taro, appeared to be comfortable friends with Kondo. Taro was a little leery of the masked agent, and Hayate smiled wryly behind the mask.
 
But Taro was, like most men who fought for a living, very practical, and he did not let his unease rule him. He filled Hayate in on the number and shifts of the usual guarding duties. They came to the conclusion that it would probably be best for one of the ANBU to ride with the jewel, with the other taking a more traditional guarding position. Though Taro kept glancing aside to Hayate's painted bird-mask, he showed no other signs of upset.
 
As the caravan moved out, Hayate kept an eye out for Ryuichi. He considered the snow, his eccentric partner, and the impressively-sized jewel they were guarding.
 
Hayate offered a brief prayer to the gods he too-often neglected, hoping for a smooth journey.

Given how well-maintained the road was, Ryuichi had expected the trees on either side to be rather thick and heavy, weighed down by snow in contrast. It was how the weather had been for the past few weeks. He wasn’t disappointed, but didn’t let the fact stop him. Just snow, and if you were careful not to leave tracks and avoid low-hanging branches that would dump excessive amounts of white fluff down and make things fucking miserable, going through the trees was actually rather nice.

It was quiet, for one thing, and that was a hell of a lot more than what could be said for the general area around the caravan. Ryuichi scowled under his mask, and pushed his hood back, shaking his head slightly to wake up. Still tired. Still in a bad mood, even he recognized that.

He couldn’t remember what had happened to be pissed off about, but something had. Well, probably, anyways. Ryuichi liked to think he was rational about stuff like that. Maybe he was just having one of those days that started out bad and went straight into shitty all in due time. Like one of those missions the brief swore was easy, and yet somehow ended up as S-rank, and left you with a feeling that somebody was laughing their ass off when you limped back in, hopefully with as many body-parts as you’d started out with.

Whatever. He’d have ended up pissing somebody off if he’d stayed around the guards, anyways. It seemed to be a rule.

Tsumago wasn’t that far. They just had to avoid being attacked by bandits or other ninja. Or kill them if they showed up. Ryuichi ducked his head slightly, smiling, and started moving again. He wouldn’t mind a fight.

There was something about adrenaline, something that was damn nice.

Several of the guards marked his position; he saw them tracking his movements by the way their heads turned, but Ryuichi only narrowed his eyes and darted into the trees, scrambling up for a better position. Not much to see at the moment, just a gray sky, but if anyone was coming, hopefully there’d be a warning.

The past two days of travel had been utterly remarkable in that they had gone smoothly. The caravan was due to pull into Tsumago within an hour. Travel had been delayed a little yesterday. One of the horses had pulled up lame, but it had only been a rock lodged in the animal's hoof. Stone removed, the horse proved perfectly sound again.
 
Hayate nibbled absently on his lower lip and regarded the approaching city.

Rather than put him at ease, the eventless journey had keyed him up. It stood to reason that things had gone well because another part of the mission was going to go seriously wrong. Hayate wasn't exactly superstitious, but he knew how life worked.
 
Because they were getting close to the city, Ryuichi should be coming back in with several of the guards. They had been out on point--at least the guards had. Hayate wasn't sure if Ryuichi was working with them, or free-ranging his patrol. He and Ryuichi had been swapping out between running guard and sitting it in the wagon, but Ryuichi had shown a definite preference for the task that kept him away from people.
 
The wagon jolted, and Hayate winced as he bit down too hard on his lip. The taste of blood mingled oddly with the honey-candy he was eating. It wasn't unpleasant.

The driver glanced back at Hayate. " 'Ere comes your surly friend," he commented, gesturing with a gloved hand to the returning patrol.

The two guards who’d been in Ryuichi’s general area came in, one of them looking rather amused. ‘Fuming’ didn’t quite cover the other’s expression, but it came somewhat close to doing it a semblance of justice. Ryuichi trailed in a bit behind him, snarling fox mask covering up any expression he might have been wearing. It was probably for the better, as a smirk might have incited an argument, complete with shouting and claims to know people’s mothers, and his usual scowl might have started something more along the lines of a fist-fight.

It wasn’t a good idea to fight with the client’s other hired-help. Looked bad on the mission-report, and Ryuichi needed this to go well so he could start taking things with higher ranks. B-ranks were so boring most of the time.

The two guards went past the wagon Hayate was sitting on, probably to report to their captain, and Ryuichi gripped the side, and swung up next to his younger partner.

“Just to make things clear,” Ryuichi stated blandly, cracking his fingers, “that was not my fault. At all.”

Immediate and unprovoked protestations of innocence were usually false, Hayate had found. He regarded Ryuichi with a skeptical look that was rather lost under his mask, then sighed a tiny sigh. It was probably best to drop it.... Hayate fought a very brief and intense battle with his curiousity. He won by a very narrow margin, and did not ask.
 
He really, really wanted to, though. He prodded the bleeding bite on his lip with his tongue to remind himself to keep quiet. He needed to show some trust in his partner, at least. So he sat on his curiosity for a good hour, before the caravan arrived in the town of Tsumago.
 
Tsumago was prosperous town. It wasn't as large as Konoha, but it was a lot busier than Hayate was used to. There was not a lot of bustle in a ninja town due to its nature. Civilian-based towns were always louder and seemed more active. The caravan attracted little interest--Tsumago was a trade-based town, and this was just another caravan.
 
However, the ANBU on discreet guard in one of the wagons were of interest, if only very brief and mildly-alarmed interest. Grass was allied with Konoha, and ninja were not uncommon. ANBU was a nightmare whisper known even here. Whispers and sudden looks-away accumulated, and Hayate watched the flow and ebb of the crowd. They weren't in plain view, no, but glimpses of bone-pale masks and dark shadows were just enough.
 
One face in particular caught his eye--a young man, pressing through the crowd. A young man whose eyes flew wide, upon catching the faint glimpse of the ANBU, fear lighting his face vividly. Then it was gone, shuttered into neutrality so fast Hayate could have imagined it.
 
Only he hadn't.
 
He tensed where he sat, watching that young man, as he lingered just a moment too long on the edge of the crowd, face a little too blank. Saw the young man get jostled, angrily react, with a slip of accent that was not Grass. And watched him start to slide away into the crowd.
 
Instinct. Follow it. Don't let it go.

Hayate flicked hand-sign to Ryuichi. Stay. Guard. Hunting... He stood, and faded away to follow.

There was something that Ryuichi didn't catch, but Hayate did, and the younger Hunter was pursuing it. He almost stood to do so as well, but didn't, only rolling his shoulder-blades, and panning his eyes over the crowd. No use in chasing something he didn't understand, and someone had to guard the wagons. It would be bad if something happened, and the guards weren't there to make sure it died a painful enough death. That would have been unprofessional, and rude to boot.

Would look bad on the mission report, too, and that never boded well. Both of them were rookies; they needed this to go well, though it was probably more of a concern for Ryuichi than it was for Hayate. The other swordsman didn't look like he got into many fights out of uniform, on his off-hours.

Ryuichi did, though he didn't start nearly as many of them as people seemed to think.

The crowd parted easily enough. Ryuichi didn't like the density of it. Too many people. This wasn't a shinobi-town, and the people lacked the cautiousness that Ryuichi had come to expect from them. They were relaxed, and openly curious. Shinobi weren't an oddity here--Hayate had explained it, and Ryuichi had actually listened--but it was for the most part trade-based. No great military-presence. It was a good thing. Much simpler, but Ryuichi didn't have to like it. He didn't have to like anything at all, just to do his job as it had been defined in the original mission-brief.

Too many people. He couldn't watch all of them, and it would only take one shinobi in civilian-clothes with some explosive-tags to make the mission go fucking wrong.

Get back here, Hayate.

Whatever it was he was chasing, Ryuichi hoped he caught it soon, and killed it if needed. Hayate looked like the type who knew what was needed, and did it.

Ryuichi shook his head, and pulled his hood down, eyes narrowed. He pulled a kunai out of his belt-pouch and twirled it, a move that drew attention to his hands and away from his mask. The inn was coming up, just around the corner, and then he could patrol, get away from the people. Gods, he hated crowds.

Having absolutely no shame had its advantages. Ryuichi didn't see anything wrong with making Hayate deal with the people.

Ryuichi twirled the kunai, ignoring the looks the wagon-driver was giving him, and tried to think of what Hayate might have seen. A threat of some sort. Something that needed to be done quietly, probably. He wouldn't know until the other Hunter got back, which might take a while.

*****

The inn wasn't small, but it wasn't expensive either. Ryuichi had checked the perimeter, and hadn't found anything to complain about. There had been a strong temptation to set up some traps of the explosive kind, but that hadn't been done. It would have caused collateral-damage, and that would have been bad.

He stayed inside with the merchants because it had been requested of him, and Ryuichi hadn't been able to think of a good enough reason not to. There was a bit of alcohol making the rounds, and the laughter was grating on his ears. He fucking hated dealing with people. The corner he'd taken for his own was small, but gave him a full view of the entire room, and especially the windows. The windows were far more important to observe than the doors, which confused people more than it should have. Ryuichi thought it made perfect sense. Glass was easy to break, easy to throw smoke-bombs and grenades through, because the idiots were watching the door and nothing else.

The merchant's guards were doing that right now, watching the door. Some of them were drinking; none of them were drunk, or at least not yet.

Ryuichi scowled, and then stood when Hayate made his appearance, unnoticed by the guards, idiots that they were. "What took you so fucking long?"

It was weird how much tension dropped away when he slipped up beside Ryuichi, even when the other teenager growled at him. Of course, tracking in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar threats....the adrenaline was fine, but the tension it brought was less than welcome. Being back near someone he knew--if only a little--was no small relief. It was also much warmer in here. The urge to cough itched in his throat and strained his voice hoarse.

"Unexpected complications," Hayate answered softly, raspily, casting a wary eye over the inn's common room.

He had trailed the young man for some distance, to another inn. It had been tricky work, breathless work, because he was working in basically unknown territory, without the assurance of backup. Maybe it had been foolhardy--okay, incredibly stupid. Ninja who took risks like that often wound up dead. Hayate'd had several narrow escapes getting away and back. He'd sent in a shadow clone, under a very very low-level henge. It had been a risky gamble, but it had paid off surprisingly well.

The young man with the not-quite-right accent had met with three other friends in the dim common room, two male, one female. One of those friends had a strange glint of metal at his waist--a headband, tied to his belt, and no longer hidden by his cloak now that he was seated. The emblem hadn't been visible, but he spoke with a thicker accent than the first young man: a rough country accent from deep in Iwa.

"....no, I'm serious! Kondo's got Konoha ANBU guarding the jewel!" the first young man had hissed, as Hayate's clone had lingered near.

"Easy, Kintaro, you sure?" drawled the one with the deepest accent.

"Sure. Hard to mistake those spooks, masks and everything," Kintaro had answered, looking frightened again. The other three shared his expressions. There was a moment of muttered debate. At last the oldest of the lot spoke a little louder.

"We run the mission anyway."

That had been the last Hayate had caught--his clone had been garnering suspicious looks from the four, and he'd had to leave off eavesdropping. The clone had barely gotten out before Kenta could accost it. Hayate had made his way back through the town, and found the inn Kondo had insisted on lodging in. The inn looked fairly quiet, despite the drinking and general hubbub that went with it.

Hayate turned to Ryuichi again. "We might be dealing with Iwa-nin," he told his partner, voice a low murmur to carry beneath the laughter and conversation. It also kept the itch to cough down.

“Well, shit,” was Ryuichi’s response to that.

Iwa-nin. Why were those bastards here, of all places? They weren’t allied with Grass. In fact, Grass didn’t seem to like them very much. Granted, those ninja didn’t like most people as it was, even those they happened to be allied with, but still. A mutual dislike, and Iwa-nin were here. Why? What was their mission?

Missing-nin wouldn’t be stupid enough to come here. Too many shinobi around, and no one liked traitors. Just a little rule, and one that only corpses had a tendency to forget. Way of the world that Ryuichi knew.

The guards still hadn’t noticed Hayate’s entrance. He was ANBU; they were too good for that. Served the idiots right if they got knifed, but then, it was the mission to make sure that didn’t happen. And guard the jewel.

The jewel. Merchants. Iwa-nin. Lots of money, which any village needed. Probably wasn’t a coincidence that they were all here in the same town.

“Okay,” he said, crossing his arms. Think. What to do. Then Ryuichi cocked his head slightly, when an idea came. It might work. “Did they mark us for sure? Or is there a chance we could use henge, change our masks? We could be Mist-Hunters for a bit. Client wouldn’t care.”

Actually, the client would probably care a lot, but that wasn’t Ryuichi’s problem. Mist and Stone weren’t allies, but neither were they enemies. They didn’t hate each other. This might work. It depended.

“Or we can just go and kill them all. How many were there?”

Ryuichi was all for the second option.

Unless there were like, six jounin. Then he wasn’t so hot about the idea. Because jounin were dangerous enough as it was. Jounin who’d been pushed into a corner, well. They were nasty, though that was a big understatement.

Hayate shook his head. "They know we're ANBU. There were four, and at least two of them were low-ranked. I'd guess chuunin. But I wouldn't bet on that, nor on there just being four of them." He paused, clearing his throat, and almost brought his hand up to nibble on a thumbnail. He remembered the mask before he did, and instead nibbled on his lip.

The earlier bite broke open and started bleeding again. He sucked at the stinging wound and let his mouth be filled with the blood-taste: sweet and salt and iron-tanged. A quick swallow wet his throat and eased his voice into something more normal.

"They specifically mentioned Kondo and the jewel, but I didn't catch what their mission was."

It was not enough information, not nearly enough, and he knew it. He was feeling rather frustrated with himself, but he couldn't see any way he could have gotten more, not without confrontation or revealing himself.

The first priority was their client and the job, however. Hayate eyed Kondo, drinking with captain-of-the-guard Taro. The two were obviously old friends, from the sound of their conversation. Kondo looked a bit drunk. Taro looked stone-cold sober, as did the guards Taro had set to watch the room. The man was not stupid.

Hayate glanced back at Ryuichi. "I think we should stay here and keep a good close eye on our client. There's too little we know about those Iwa-nin to just charge off and kill them."

He felt like he'd pulled off enough stupid stunts today. They weren't likely to have the grace to pull another, and Hayate was fond of not being dead

Okay. This wasn’t good. Ryuichi scowled, and then exhaled through his teeth. He didn’t like this situation at all. Too many things had the possibility of going straight to hell, and that would get people killed. Ryuichi didn’t care if it was any of the guards, or even the client, really, but if it was Hayate, well. You didn’t let your comrades get killed. It didn’t work that way. He’d get a lecture, and probably a smart backhand if the client got killed, but that was fine.

It wasn’t fine when Konoha-shinobi died.

Playing his fingers over the hilt of the dagger clipped to his belt, Ryuichi resisted the urge to hit something and make it howl. Fuck. He didn’t like this at all.

“We should let Taro-san know at least. Maybe not tell the client.”

Better if the guards were alerted, so they wouldn’t be stupid. Or at least more than usual. Sometimes civilians did alright. Ryuichi wasn’t confident of the fact, for he didn’t really like noncombatants on principle alone, but these people knew how to fight, carried weapons. That didn’t always mean anything, but it would have to be enough.

Charging off and killing the Iwa-bastards before they did any damage sounded like a damn good idea to Ryuichi. He didn’t say anything, though, seeing as Hayate had him outranked, and though he could have protested the fact and made the younger ninja back down, that would have gotten the guards and the client nervous.

Ryuichi was shorter than Hayate. He was also much louder, and probably more violent, and not afraid to combine the two.

Hayate nodded as Ryiuchi voiced what he'd been thinking. Definitely tell Taro, but maybe not Kondo. The man was not as solid as Taro, and they did not need a panicky merchant on their hands.

Higher ranked and taller Hayate might have been, but he was also younger and less experienced. He knew it, too, and hated being in charge. It bolstered his confidence to have Ryuichi echo his own tentative plans.

"I don't think there were more than four, but as I said, I wouldn't bet on it. We at least know they're there, and that their mission concerns us." He bit harder on his bleeding lip, thinking.

"It might be a good idea to stick with the plan from the trip," he continued, softly, voice fraying. "One of us with the jewel, the other standing guard outside. Maybe pair up with the guards, so we won't be alone. Taro-san can help with that."

He was examining his mental layout of the inn as he spoke, which sadly lacked in many places. He needed to patrol a little, get a better idea of the ground he might need to defend. And they needed to talk to Taro. He moved just a little out of the shadow, just enough to make the nearest guard realize he was there. The man jumped and eyed him askance, a spooked white-eyed look like the caravan horses had got when frightened.

Then he left his post and made a beeline for Taro, leaning down to whisper in his ear. Hayate raised an eyebrow behind his mask. Well. That was certainly interesting.

It got better every moment. Ryuichi scowled, kicking the ground. "Did they mark you?"

The guards had finally noticed Hayate's entrance. Or rather, that he had returned. They weren't good enough to have noticed when he had first arrived. Of course not. They weren't shinobi, and the two of them were Hunters, ANBU. Best and the best, and all that. Sometimes it meant something, and other times it meant a whole lot more. Others, it was just a little fact that people said because they were bored. People spend 40% of their lives waiting in lines, you're more likely to die away from your house than in it,, all things along those lines.

"You tell him," Ryuichi snapped, elbowing Hayate in the side when Taro-san looked straight at them, expression calm, but with hard eyes.

His antics got a raised eyebrow from the captain of the guards, and Ryuichi almost groaned. This was why B-ranks sucked.

Hayate was fast enough to lean away from the blow--it just grazed his armor with a faint hiss. He gave a surprised glance to Ryuichi, which was completely lost beneath his mask. The action had seemed a little at odds with what he had seen of the other teenager: he hadn't pinned Ryuichi as one for physical displays.

"No, they didn't see me," he answered Ryuichi, as he nodded to Taro.

The dark-haired man rose and casually dismissed himself from Kondo, sending the guard back to his post. Taro walked carefully, deliberately, out into the hall, with a flicked glance at the ANBU that conveyed his message.

"Keep watch," Hayate murmured to Ryuichi, after clearing his throat. "I'll work out a plan with Taro-san, and scout around for a bit. Ten minutes, no longer."

He waited only for assent, and then slipped away. Taro was waiting patiently out in the hall, but obviously on alert. Hayate slid out of the shadows. Taro jumped less visibly than his soldier had, but it was still a noticable flinch. Hayate wondered if it was mistrust or honest surprise.

The situation was explained quickly. Hayate remembered to talk as he had been told--confident, calm, a tad louder than his usual quiet tones, though it irritated his throat. All were calculated mannerisms to make him seem in control and give him an air of authority. Even if he didn't feel calm and in control, if he sounded like he was, the others around him would believe it. Taro seemed to, and suggested four men less likely to be spooked by working with the ANBU.

He and Taro ended their planning, and Taro went back to the noisy common room. Hayate lingered in the hall for a moment. Then he faded away into the shadows.

The situation wasn’t truly dangerous, not yet. Wasn’t like it was wartime, and it wasn’t good to kill a shinobi just because they hailed from a certain village. Even Stone-ninja. You needed to have a better reason than that, or, if one wasn’t making itself apparent, a good lie. Ryuichi wasn’t the best at making up stories, let alone good ones, but in this situation, this mission, he doubted it would be a required skill.

Iwa-nin would need to be killed before the two Hunters went home. Their missions intersected. A conflict of interests, and Konoha would always win such things. They had endured the war, hadn’t they? It was a matter of pride that their soldiers always completed the missions assigned to them.

A few Stone-chuunin wouldn’t make a difference. They would just die, before the end. Ryuichi knew that, in the simple way that rules were defined and committed to memory. Just a fact. He and Hayate would make their enemies dead, protect the client, and get home when it was done. It was their mission, and ANBU got the job done. They always did.

It was almost a nindo, but not quite. Ryuichi didn’t have one.

What he did have was a longbow, poisoned arrows, and the pressing desire to slam a bolt into the throat of the shinobi watching them from the trees outside the western-facing window.

Standing in the shadows near the door, Ryuichi made sure he wasn’t visible from the watcher’s vantage-point, and checked the other windows. Nothing. The man’s posture was relaxed, casual, but he moved too fluidly to be a civilian, to be anything but a ninja. A scout, then. Checking out the target, perhaps. Ryuichi was tempted to kill him—the bow was strong enough to shatter the glass on the window, and a second strike would take him in the throat, one dead Iwa-nin bleeding in the snow—but didn’t.

Hayate had said to wait. Ryuichi smiled, more of a snarl than anything, but under his mask, the difference couldn’t be known.

The Iwa-nin was a rookie. A stupid one, too. Just watching, no killing-intent, but not enough to avoid being marked. Ryuichi had seen him when he’d first shown up, and then watched him move into the trees, keeping to the shadows in a way that was almost too-familiar. Ninja. Couldn’t be anything else.

None of the guards had noticed. No reason for them to. The guy was dressed like a civilian, wasn’t carrying weapons. Ryuichi’s fist clenched. He could kill the Iwa-nin right now, and wanted to, so bad he was twitching.

He waited, though, and smiled, snapping an arm out when Hayate returned, preventing him from walking into the Iwa-nin’s line of sight.

“We’ve got company,” Ryuichi informed his partner calmly, tone implying that he was grinning in a way that didn’t mean anything nice. “These guys are so fucking stupid. It’s beyond pathetic.”

They’d deserve their deaths for being idiots. No one survived as a shinobi by being stupid. Wasn’t possible.