One step forward, two steps back (moved)

[Tsutsubell]

(moved from crimson era)


Within Bone. Part One.

"Oh...? Is that so? Got me all figured out, hmm?"


Emiko's cadence was hardly threatened or threatening, only thoughtful. A near innocent, shallow texture to softly spoken words. Even if Tsurino was no real monster by herself, now and like this, the situation did require stead fast attention. So then her hands were tied, wasn't the first time, though this was certainly a unique situation. Dropping any defensive stance or any remote shadow of attack, Emiko merely fell back to attention. Her body seemed relaxed enough, all things considered, and her eyes now slipped across her host as per request. "You know nothing about me, Mizukage. You, Inoshi, you're all jokes," there was perhaps something else now present in her tone, something which had been too small to really notice before. Too subtle and not altogether important enough to pay much attention to. It wasn't yet dangerous. Annoyance, perhaps. An edginess which came from running out of options and time more quickly than she had liked. It was always preferred when just things went as they were supposed to. How they had been intended to go while plans were being penciled out. Long breaths, drawn out into dramatic and near silent moans paired with a downward bend of her gleaning lips. Short motions, cut off at the elbows animated Emiko as she spoke, her serious vocals only bouncing around in bone reverberated echoes.


"The Emperor of the Mist... Lord Inoshi... even Mizukage," her gesture obviously was to Tsurino there, "they're all useless titles that you've given yourself. I'm here because I wanted to be, you understand, nothing's stopping me. This place, you, your precious locks and keys, they make no difference to me..."


Her words sounded final and absolute, accented by pressing indications made with her body. Her voice positioned itself among razor blades of factual slaughter, for she knew better than any present exactly what she was capable of. In her experience, there was little someone or someone(s) could do to interrupt or halt her goals altogether. Even the Mizukage here, before her, posed only as a distraction. "What has he told you? What do you really know about your Lord, hm? You trust him so completely, but where is he now? And what's he done to Hisoka? Can you even answer, or are you just as scared as the rest of them? Juuuust as clueless, running around that same prideful blindness?" Pointing directly at Tsurino, the green haired female only continued her aggressive challenge, basking in the idea of Kirigakure's Mizukage being put in such an unexpected rut. It was true, this woman, this Mizukage was powerful. The grit of her technique alone was troublesome, but it was obvious she too was at her limit. If it came to real combat, Tsurino wouldn't last much longer. Sweat glistened from her pale skin, and silver hair looked un-composed. Hell, she could barely stand up straight.


"Think little TsuTsu, what do you really know? Go over the situation in that thick head of yours. You know I'm here, but you don't know how. You know I'm dangerous, but you don't know to what degree. You know I can dispatch your men, and survive your greatest techniques, but is that all? You know Inoshi and Hisoka are locked away and undergoing some kind of treatment, but do you know exactly what's happening?"


She could attack, throw a kunai, a punch, but she knew it would only backfire. This could only be won with a touch of grace and a pound of just the right poison. "If I were you, I'd open myself up to alternative methods, mm? Seems like you're at wit's end, picking fights with strangers who clearly eclipse you and let's not mention locking up your dearest friends to die." Still across from Tsurino and with a good amount of distance between the both of them, she made sure to keep equidistant from each wall, and the woman herself. She had seen what this bone was capable of in pure destructive power alone, though she knew not the extents of what might be done with it now-- until she could be more certain she was safe, distance was the best buffer she could manage. "Kiiinda sounds like you're the bad guy now, huh?" With a small giggle, Emiko bent at the knees and fell back to the ground, pointer and middle finger pressing against the earthen crust to her feet. Like opening a refrigerator a second or third time time in the hopes of finding something new, she probed the room just beyond, feeling anything the earthen rock felt. The flat bodies of Yamanaka and Ryoku alike, paired with the twenty or so black ops units posted just inside. Eight men and women, though she couldn't tell the difference in gender, sat in a ring around the two, and they were the ones responsible for whatever crude sealing was commencing.


"Look, I get what you're doing, really. Seems like it's your only option, but you're way off. You've attacked me, had your men attack me--! I'm not interested in bloodshed here, killing you fools would prove nothing in the long run. I came for Hisoka and Hisoka alone. He needs my help, and you're the person keeping that help from ever reaching him. I think it's time you step aside... precious pet."

[Tsutsubell]

This was a fierce stand-off, both sides watched each other, Tsurino’s face remaining passive and cold. She could feel the minute tick by now, down to the seconds. Four minutes left until they were out of oxygen. “Three minutes.” She murmured, ignoring the petty jabs, intending on getting a rise out of her.    ”You are wrong.  I did not aspire to this title, it was given to me.”  But she couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Tsurino didn’t have any idea what was going on, what kind of poison blossomed from Inoshi and is killing Hisoka. It was an untapped darkness she had never felt before. Like plunging her arms into ice water that clawed at her marrow and tried to drag her in.

As her jobs continued to get thrown to get a response, she straightened her body, squaring her shoulders and reaching up, tucking the fallen strand of white hair from her face. Her words maintained the same amount if distanced apathy as the rest of her as she locked away her emotions. But she would respond honestly. ”I am terrified.”   She blinked, slowly, looking to the wall of bone.

”But I am not afraid of you. You may be stronger than me Ryoku.  If this was a fight, in my current state I would most likely lose. But if I die, or simply wait three minutes than your mission…and mine will be lost.”

She looked back to Emiko, her body was completely relaxed now, this wasn’t a fight now but a negotiation. Slowly she walked towards Emiko.  Eventually standing over her as the woman probed the ground with her finger, Tsurino could feel her chakra run through the floor like echo location. ”You can call me what you will. Someone who doesn’t know loyalty and duty will never understand.  However i, have never laid a hand on you. I have not attacked you. I have given you an ultimatum. If what you want is sincere…we are not enemies.”  

Tsurino paused for a moment, approaching her but remaining respectfully a short distance away. ”Can you heal him.  Ryoku.” She asked, her voice was quieted and soft.  ”Will he be safe in your care.”  It tore at her insides to think of letting Hisoka go. But Emiko’s entrance was almost too convenient and Tsurino could not deny the lack of knowledge or experience with whatever is going on. But she couldn’t let Hisoka go from one dangerous place to another, Tsurino would rather choose the devil she knew over the devil she didn’t. Inoshi would never forgive her for letting him be simply taken.  Yet their mission was the same, and if Emiko could truly help him, truly save him in a way Tsurino could not then his life would still be her success, regardless if Inoshi would have forgiven her for her actions or not. ”What is your name.”

[CleverYamanaka]

There was a careful order to things in social politics, especially with actual politicians. So she kept her knees bent, and her head down. More or less a gesture of vulnerability, even while she knew it was completely false. Tsurino approached, a hulking brute of a woman, but none the less beautiful for it. Even from a single glance, Emiko could understand years of this woman- especially how she might fight. Flexible clothing, loose and light. Powerful muscles and the obvious red symbol of the Kaguya Clan upon her forehead. Taijutsu; physical combat, and at a Kage's level it would be terrifying even in her condition. Emiko rose, a nimble and grace gesture, much more elegant and fragile looking than something Tsurino would easily manage. Nothing about her looked fragile, other than that feint hint of damage which lay just on the other side of each individually colored eye. Wounds, something more distant than anything else, she had no way of guessing honestly. Emiko met that gaze, her own unwavering in doing so, straightening her back and body until their height more or less matched. While Emiko was shorter, the difference was more or less compensated by her small heels.

"Glad we wrapped that up."

One last glance around the room because there was never such a thing as being too cautious, and finally she let her attention fall fully on Tsurino. "I'm Emiko," she offered rather casually, knowing that name wouldn't mean anything to a damn soul, for she was invisible and always had been. A hand rose, dainty and polite like, as if engaged in a formal meeting. Perhaps the situation called for it?

"Right now, Inoshi and Hisoka are being torn apart by an uneven tetra-sealing chamber with terrible outer-parameter recoil buffers. I'm not sure where your men found that seal, Mizukage, but it's THE most revered sealing technique of the Ryoku Clan, one of its most well guarded secrets- only it's done terribly here, and..."

Emiko's eyes, probably for the first time, looked flecked with concern. "Even I don't really understand what that seal is capable of, and certainly not something incomplete like this. The seal, or at least what this is drawing from, is called Sin of Ascension, and it's supposed to be able to turn someone into a god, at least that's what they said, whatever that means. No one's been able to use it or even perfect the seal, not even the Ryoku's most recent prodigy Kuro. You know of her surely." Perhaps that was venom in her voice, or perhaps arrogance of her own. Emiko only assumed the worst, assumed that Tsurino knew little to nothing about the Ryoku Clan. In fact, she was surprised Tsurino even knew of the name- it had to be that pesky Yamanaka, damn him.

"... And yes, it'll mean re-arranging the seal almost completely, and you've already wasted all of our time. Right now, I'm probably the only person who could even have a shot at that sealing technique."

What she wasn't telling Tsurino was that she'd never used the seal herself, she'd never even tried, or felt anywhere competent enough to try. Or what the seal was designed to do. She had no clue herself, the finer details of its function could only be deciphered by actually seeing the sealing technique itself. What she had said was true, about Kuro Ryoku, a name well known enough among the upper echelons of society- or the lowest. Kuro had held official jounin rank in Kirigakure before Inoshi's political involvement with the village, the generation before this. She had been highly noted as a powerful shinobi, and had even been considered as Mizukage once or twice, though she claimed little political power to herself and always remained just under the radar. Although her public records were most likely inaccurate beyond belief, there would be some gems of truth- moreover, if Tsurino was able to call out a Ryoku by their physical aesthetics alone, she had to know something about them- and that something surprisingly wouldn't have come from Hisoka, as far as she knew, no, that boy knew next to nothing about his own origin. Sheltered from the storm that was Ryoku.

"Get me in there."

[Tsutsubell]

Emiko. The name would be etched into her memory along with the womans face, the way her Chakra felt rolling over Tsurino’s alabaster skin and the way she stood, like years of training she moved with the grace and control of a dancer, one who was refined to show the fragility of her body while simultaneously proving otherwise. Emiko, the other Ryoku. While it might not mean anything to the outside world it would mean something to Tsurino, it would have meant something to Inoshi. Now she listened, intently for the words she had been waiting to hear.

Most she found she didn’t understand, not fully and she frowned, searching her memory for any knowledge something of that magnitude could have happened. To her knowledge, Inoshi was the only one looking into Ryoku’s talents, but the seal could not be created and applied by Inoshi. The ANBU within the room knew something as well, secrets even the Mizukage was kept in the dark about, perhaps found knowledge from the previous Mizukage’s, Kuro and others was still kept? She continued watching Emiko, soaking in every word, ever motion it came with. Concern, frustration, emotions that were not laced with arrogance finally came from the smaller woman.

But what she spoke, made Tsurino’s eyes widen. No, that sounded exactly like something Inoshi would strive towards. Her chest ached now at his foolishness, he was so eager, so passionate about gaining that strength. His own pride and arrogance led to this. The air felt thinner and Tsurino combed her fingers through her hair, nodding as the situation fully sank into the marrow of her bones. ”I know of Kuro.” Not many within their village didn’t know her name, though it was more of a legend, foundations and people who became idolized that they seemed more my legend of myth as their lives and successes were glorified. Kuro was certainly one of them, a goddess of sheer power and potential.

And Tsurino believed her. Stepping back from the dainty girl, Tsurino turned and began to walk quickly towards the corridor blocked off by her forest of bones. She disappeared into the bone structure as easily as falling into water, her body absorbed effortlessly. ”I will let you inside.” her voice echoed softly. She had to do one final thing.

The room inside was thin, but as Tsurino approached the bones at the enterance hall making it air tight dissolved. She didn’t have time to wait, her body howled and creaked from the abuse but she moved to Hisoka with the speed she could maintain, no one opened their mouths to ask why she would breach the seal so callously. Her bones fell away and soon Emiko would enter the room. Tsurino would be done before then. Falling to her knees Tsurino straddled Hisoka’s body, her hands making quick seals. This what all she could do….to ensure Hisoka’s safety.

“Kafun Shushi no jutsu!” She boomed, pressing her fingers against his chest. The skin on her fingertips spreading. Invisable to the eye as fragments off bone, thin as needles and sharp as glass pierced his chest, the small puff of chakra propelled it into his skin, under muscle and into bone. Wedged there, quickly calcifying the Kaguya bone would become an absorbed reinforced part of Hisoka’s natural body, a strengthening of his Solar Plexus. Tsurino pulled her fingers away and watched himclimbing off his body with only three small droplets of blood to show she was there at all, the wounds so small they had already healed.

But she felt it, as even as her own, in the palm of her hands she could feel the weak beat of Hisoka’s heart. Linked through a bond he could no longer tear. No matter how far he went, no matter what state he was in Tsurino would feel his heart beat in the left palm of her hand. ”Do not move!” she snapped to the ANBU officers and shinobi within the room. Looking back to Emiko as she entered the room at last, the whole Jutsu taking the same amount of time for the bones to completely erode away, she stepped away from Hisoka her heart aching in her chest. There was too much she didn’t know, too much she was lost by in this moment to allow anything less. She only clenched her left hand, feeling helpless in the moment to simply feel Hisoka’s weakening heartbeat. ”He is yours.”

[CleverYamanaka]

Well then, Emiko thought with a nasty albeit inward grimace, you've just signed yourself up for quite a lot. In truth, she hadn't yet figured out a way of processing such information, or if she believed what she herself had seen. What in the world was the Emperor involved in? And how had she been so blind!? Even so, the victory went to her, gleaming at the chance to take control of her previous enemies through simple words alone. Oh how Tsurino hopped and danced just to see someone's good side, and how could either of them have prepared for this. She looked just as lost, more. But she had made the correct choice, now was the time left to aid the last of the Ryoku, and much of it had been spent in search of diplomatic options. 

Emiko was trained to see everything, every detail. It was how she had lived this long, a memory and precise intelligence which kept her far ahead of any potential opponent. She watched closely as Tsurino retreated back across the room and into her own bone. Her skin, even her clothing was devoured by it, fusing and becoming part of the impossibly resilient infrastructure. The Mizukage's voice rang out clearly, piercing Emiko's ears. At first it had gone unnoticed and it took a second for her to realize what had just happened. Those were mental arts, genjutsu, illusionary practices. Before she could raise her hand in seal to dispel the spell, Tsurino had lifted it. Although non violent, Emiko knew that this, in a way, was just as great a show of power as any other. There was no mention of the woman's illusionary skills, and yet she had managed something at the level of a master. Something simple, granted. 

Emiko rose to regain her composure, a regal posture, before walking to where Tsurino had last slipped through. Like clockwork, the network of marrow and calcium retracted piece by piece, falling away gradually to reveal an arch. An effective entrance to the next room. Inside the whole room had been dispatched into orderly chaos. Black ops personnel were grouped in neat boxes of four man cells, standard porcupine formation, each with their backs against one another in order to cast a 360 degree field of vision. Tsurino, at the room's center, was surrounded by the glowing monstrosity of some winding, uneven and spindly fuuinjutsu. The Sin of Ascension, or some horrible re-do, around which a slumping group of robed men and women sat. 

In total there were twelve of them, each covered in numerous folds of unidentifiable material. Instead of masks, concealing cloths were draped over their faces, on which were numbers counting one to twelve in bolded purple. Emiko felt the hairs along the back of her neck raise and tickle in observation of what lay before her. The seal itself pumped with a nauseating pale green, as if poisonous in its vary nature. Numbers seven and ten had fallen in on themselves, their bodies now crumpled, arms sprawled and fingers gnarled in ragged directions. The third, closest to Emiko, had long since let his head fall back, that same blood flecked vomit identifying him as dead and yet his posture remained the same. She was sure he was dead, he had to be, but his hands remained planted together in crisp seal. The rest swayed in a sickly moaning chant, whispers and voices which weren't right, conversations without the second recipient. 

"Oh shit," Emiko stammered, pushing forward quickly. Her hands flung to each side in a blatant command to remove the seal. "Get them out of here, now, stop this now!" A command she gave with fruitless results. Emiko shot a steaming glare in Tsurino's direction when none of them budged, and wouldn't, not even under the order's of their Mizukage. Whatever function they served went far beyond that. They were property of the Emperor, and as such, they served him personally, and exclusively. With loyalty enough to offer themselves in pointless sacrifice to their leader. "I don't have time for this," Emiko shot almost instantly thereafter, her gate not slowing and her tone iced with a layer of acidity. In a powerful stampeding heel, she crushed the stone beneath her feet and sent a powerful, thick black line of fuuinjutsu snaking towards the Sin of Ascension. Under her breath she muttered to herself, digging deep into a well practiced concentration. "Secret black art, snake's tail technique," the fuuinjutsu forked forward, running through the Ascension seal in an effort to disrupt it. Although no noise was made, there was an ear splitting screech. Not enough.

"Secret black art, centipede seal. Secret black art, black claw cross out technique. Secret black technique, ultimate ending kinjutsu."

With each new announcement she tore further into the monstrous seal, bringing it to its knees. New lines, some thick, some thin, ripped outward like infection from the Ascension's neatly assigned and carefully placed designs. Sweat covered Emiko's body in a sheen of dull lit glow, giving her white skin a sticky wet appearance. She hadn't prepared for this, not by a long shot, and already she could feel her reserves draining. Picking herself back up, Emiko fused fingers for another round, nothing was fast enough, it needed to be done now. "Secret black technique, resolve seal, sap. Secret black technique, black paper devouring erasure technique!" These techniques were rarely ever produced atop one another, their combined power like that of a titan, and even so the Ascension fought off her effects, corroding slowly. Her skin broke into flecks, paper peeling from her and gaining a black hue as it took flight, joining a quickly spawning pool of dark, chaotic movement. Angry like insects, the paper pieces shot towards each of the twelve robed men and tore through them, consuming their chakra, consuming their corporeal flesh and shaving the Sin of Ascension seal from functionality by way of aggressive force. The men made no noise as they died, only fell to the will of her swarm, picked up and torn into pieces so quickly no blood could fall to the ground below. 

Emiko's knees faltered, a grin on her lips. Any Ryoku able to observe her command over such forbidden and grueling techniques would have revered her in awe. But such power, those results, came at great cost. Neither Hisoka nor Inoshi moved as the seal devoured itself around them and finally ended. There were no signs of life, or stirrings. She could feel the glares of ANBU who had been directly ordered to remain still. Some directed at her, some at the Mizukage who shackled them in place while an outsider lay ruin to their men. "Shit, alright," Emiko mused to herself, almost inaudibly. "That all?" she asked in challenge, probably to herself, bolstering herself for another round of intensity. It was her turn to attempt the same seal which had broken those same men into mindless vegetables. To some degree, she had to question the logic in even attempting such a maneuver. If she lost the gamble, and her own seal failed, both Hisoka and herself would be ruthlessly deleted. It would be safer to cut away now, run while she still had possession of her own life.

"Clone," Emiko stated in blunt manner. Instantly, the deadly swarm of black paper manifested into three more solid forms. The harsh tar color subsided, developed color and textures until three perfect clones stood to Emiko's posterior. She needn't describe the situation to them, nor speak for verbal assistance. Moving as one, though each conjuring a different seal, they all spoke at once, presenting a long string of hand seals, finished, as they spoke. It was hard to tell what exactly they said, as none of them spoke their words loudly, but things started happening. As Emiko knew it, the Sin of Ascension seal was built on the same properties as any other Ryoku styled technique- in layers. Anyone who tried to merely copy its finished form and use such a seal for its face value, as Inoshi probably had, would suffer from unfinished consequences. As such, she constructed the seal slowly, laying out simple layers atop other simple layers, drawing the seal piece by piece so that it developed its complexities. Some strokes fell over the rest, the chakra mixing differently, saturating for specific amounts of time. In a near endless chant, each green haired woman endlessly mimed different seals with their fingers and whispered the effects into place. 

After the process had continued for nearly three minutes, there was some semblance of what had once enveloped the unconscious pair who now lay on level with Emiko's heeled shoes. Each of the paper clones, and even Emiko, were only half of what they had been such a short time before. In slits, thin stacks of paper cracked her skin like lacerations, a sure fire sign of nearing exhaustion. Another two minutes of the laborious chanting, and one of the clones randomly seized, the paper pulling apart and tearing it to the ground where it lay in a slipping pile. Emiko's eyes remained unchanged, engrained in focus, desperate for results, gambling with more than her life. Another four minutes passed before the other two clones spontaneously gagged, heaving as if to vomit but breaking into rough furrows of paper before doing so. The seal took color, pumping green like before, though without the sickly beating fade. The air seemed to grow heavy, the rocks which built the room quaked and complained under the otherworldly strain. Emiko fell to her knees, head sinking and hands pressing together until a circle rand rings round them. The fuuin chamber where she gave herself over to the Sin of Ascension's effects. Before her body was ravaged in one strong pull of consciousness, Emiko was able to passively whisper one warning to Tsurino. 

"Keep... me... alive..."

Then she was gone, the yellow gold venom of her eyes swallowed up by a green, drunken glaze. Her body writhed, back arching, pain ripping holes in her mind. Her soul, the essence of who she was was gripped and torn from the flesh by something else, something so much bigger and more than she could ever be. Images, horrible memories of lifetimes she hadn't lived, feelings she could only imagine. Her thin frame bucked, coughing until strings of saliva fell in ropes from her gaping mouth. She screamed, and she could hear it, but her body made no noise. Fire and ice burned her, metal and shells cut her. Blood and the slippery chunks of gore bathed her, Hisoka's voice, the Emperor's, screaming in that same way. Minutes poured out slowly, time stopping for her to experience the pain of a second in a lifetime's duration. One scream lasted years here. Emiko's fingers shriveled like a spider after being stepped on, clenching in on themselves, her arms collapsing as if she were to give in under the jutsu's pressure. 

It was a full twenty minutes later that Emiko's body reacted to such a harsh contortion there were several clear cracks and one more drawn out, wet noise. Paper fell away from her until Emiko's form became emaciated from sheer lack of mass. In a blinding second, the seal pulsed an ear splitting sonic attack, then lashed out in a wave of fowl green energy. Evil itself, energetic shadow, an explosion in which Tsurino and Emiko lay at the unaffected epicenter. It tore through the ranks of ANBU, tearing them apart and disintegrating them, leeching the life from them and dragging it all back to feed some ungodly power. Some unsatisfiable hunger. The bodies of Hisoka and Inoshi both shook and shifted, given rise by some unnatural means and then dropped back to the rock ground. Around them, in ashes, fell what used to be seven units of Kirigakure's most elite, their lives and very essence sapped, leaving only charred clothes and weapons behind. Her eyes lost their glaze, and she belched forth a haunted woop, swiftly collapsing to the ground and hugging her side as if she had been stabbed. The seal hissed, wrapping both Inoshi and Hisoka in a thick entanglement of black lines. With a groan, the green haired woman pulled herself up to an elbow and shoved herself forward towards Hisoka. Frenzied eyes fell over the man, no longer glowing with any flame, and her hands flew forth to grab the clothing which covered him. At first it was only her lips moving, not able to speak her words, but eventually the crazed mutterings became whispers, and those whispers a scared plea. "Hisoka, no, no, Hisoka, shit," she began, placing a hand now made up of little more than paper skeletal work. 

"Shit, shit, shit- Tsurino... Tsurino!!"

Waving hurriedly at the Mizukage, Emiko amounted her demands. "Hisoka! Now!" Pulling the hair from the man's brow and tightening her grip on his jaw she could only continue yelling in rushed frustration. "Help!, help Hisoka!! Now--! Aa-- it's useless--" Everyone's useless. With the last of her strength, Emiko pulled Hisoka close and let their lips touch, tugging his pouting bottom away and letting her strange ritual begin. Hisoka's body became cracked and frayed like her own, the paper from each pressing together and fusing. Emiko's form fell away further, her arms thinning, her legs breaking in handfulls, the green of her hair fading and her torso caving in hollowed chunks. From Hisoka's lips wrapped a seal which encompassed first his face, tendrils slipping over his body, down under the collar of his shirt and down below to make patterns in black against white. It's purpose in two fold. First, the kiss was actually derived from Shikigami origins, a fuuinjutsu wherein the user offers their own life energy as a source for another. Second, the seal which took the form of one large, empty diamond on the male's forehead would house Emiko's mind and soul, allowing her to live temporarily within the other Ryoku's body while hers was exhausted and useless.

Hisoka's mouth ripped open a moment later gasping for a powerful breath of air, chest heaving and limbs twitching as nerves once again reacted to the established command of tired synapses. Hisoka would be reborn. His pains and tortured nightmares all ending in one, abrupt yank. His soul torn from where it had been, shattered, and thrown back into the body which used to house it. Now no longer the same perfect fit it was before. Emiko mimicked the youth's bellow, an unconscious yelp of her own, excited and in disbelief that her effort had resulted in success. Beside Hisoka, however, lay Inoshi. Still, cold, a heart which no longer beat. Thin trails of blood spouted and ran out along the sides of his mouth, slipping out from loosely pressed lips. Eyes once blue like the ocean were now grey and lost. Black like tar, another fluid leaked from his eyes, tears formed by some unintended result of a jutsu which hadn't been focused on saving him. What had happened, who Hisoka was, who he thought he was, no one had the better guess. It would take him another two weeks to wake up, but she had managed to bring him into some for of stability.

"He's mine... Mizukage... you have to... honor... our deal..."

[Tsutsubell]

[There was never a time during this awful night Tsurino even stopped to think if she could handle it. So much came at her in so many waves she didn’t have the time to think about herself, she had Inoshi, hisoka, her men, her compound, emiko, seals, death all flashing bright in her face. There was no time to think of consequences, of scars, of herself. That was something locked away, something too painful to approach until after it would all be over when she could heal.

Tsurino kept her feet planted between the sealed chambers, looking at the faceless monks who continued there chanting. Stop! Stop immediately! Why wouldn’t they listen? Did they follow Inoshi even in death or was this someone else?   She couldn’t force them to stop; the backlash might shatter the seal and kill everyone in the room.  Tsurino stepped away from Hisoka as Emiko entered the room, clenching her hand tightly as she watched the seal seem to react to her presence, the emanating glow like acid flared, gripping them tighter, the boy’s pulse weak and frail in the palm of her clenched fist. Those that did listen to Tsurino could only watch, glued into their places, masks aimed at Emiko. One stood in front of Tsurino. She recognized his mask, an elite she had known for some time. But even he was hopeless as little more than a shield, they could do nothing now but watch this strange woman operate with a force and power none of them have ever seen before.

This was the hidden power of the elite Ryoku clan. The next ten minutes the Mizukage  would feel so hopeless. The very earth around them groaned under the pressure of the chakra engraed in the stone etched seals that sliced through the stone like butter. That was the power of the Ryoku, and it was terrifying.  The Kaguya could only watch the woman conjure up clones, fighting some sort of battle for control against the seal. A seal that no longer seemed even under the control of those masked number monks, but the seal itself was alive, hissing and writhing, sapping the life of the men locked in its creation. Some bowed over, throwing up blood, their hands glue in the seal even in death. One man screamed a sound Tsurino wish she didn’t know, the sound of an animal whose life was being choked out of them. It was the final fearful plea to stop the pain. But the seal continued to write, the pulsing green light washed over Emiko like waves, making the paper maiden struggle, squares of paper falling off her form, unraveling slowly.


”This isn’t right.” Tsurino murmured as the seriousness of Emiko’s position dawned  upon her. The first clone screamed, collapsing and Tsurinopushed past the ANBU loyally staying in front of her and slid down to Emiko’s back as the girl rasped out the first human sentence she had heard Emiko speak in their short meeting. She didn’t need to ask for the help, Tsurino was already there.  ”I’m here!” She called to her, voice strong before she made complex seals, setting them upon her back like a strong current of warmth. Her hands pulsed a chakra she summoned up from every fiber of her body.  She didn’t think of herself, she didn’t think of the exhaustion that pushed her.

”Water healing technique: seven chimes mending!”  And like waves her chakra flowed into the Ryoku, moving like glue, holding her pieces together, healing the fissures in her skin. Time never slowed, it never blurred together.  Tsurino could remember every waking moment of the time touching Emiko, feeling that acidic power try to claw at her again like it had with inoshi, like it had with Hisoka.  The Ryoku woman’s scream that would be etched in her bones as she struggled to keep Emiko alive like there was some sort of poison, claws grabbing her and trying to drag her down. Her hands never left the woman’s back, she never looked to the ANBU who didn’t know what to do. She leaned close, her head against Emiko’s who remained rigid and still, caught in some sort of seizure that made her entire body tense in probable agony. But Tsurino never stopped speaking into Emiko’s ear, strong  and soothing words to keep Emiko grounded. That  she was alive, that she didn’t have the luxury to lose, that she wouldn’t let Emiko die and that the pain will be over soon. Twenty minutes of that awful, agonized scream that ran the girl’s voice hoarse, it was the stuff of nightmares and not once did Tsurino stop speaking to her.

In that time they saw evil, true blackness, a horror neither of them had ever seen before. This was hatred and evil incarnate, and she never witnessed something so pure in its blackness, in its malice. Fear gripped her soul when she realized what she was feeling wasn’t human, wasn’t animal but something older, something  more that scared her not as a shinobi, not as Tsurino but a base human instinct that knew it, that feared this energy for hundreds of thousands of years.  What they felt was the birth of fear itself, howling back at them.


And it had killed Inoshi….and it was trying to drag Hisoka down as well!


The next she saw over the howling, over the wind was Emiko claw for Hisoka, lifting him up and Tsurino’s heart almost stopped. His heart beat! In her palm the faint quiver against her skin had STOPPED COMPLETELY. Oh god, Hisoka no! Tsurino’s eyes widened and she looked around. No, no the seal was breaking apart, debris flew around them and Emiko clutched Hisoka to her breast, their lips Locked before Tsurino threw herself around the two of them as wind sliced around them with the sharpness of blades.

The next came to her as little more than flashes of memory from the darkness. Sound was gone and replaced with a loud ringing in Tsurino’s ears. A portion of the room collapsed, filling it with dust and rocks. That evil begin shoved back into the seal, the world fracturing into hundreds of fissures The motion Tsurino could only describe as a kiss of life from Emiko left the Ryoku woman completely exhausted and she hunched over. Tsurino reeled back and watched Hisoka gasp suddenly, his heart beat warming her palm and beating strongly. Her arms dropped to the ground, an exhausted smile pulled at her lips and her head dropped forward.  Thank gods….thank gods…

But Tsurino wasn’t allowed to rest yet, her iron clad lock on her heart had only cracked but it remained hardened and locked away.  The ANBU that had listened to her orders was dutifully butchered by rocks or wind. There were no survivors. Tsurino looked down at her own body and saw that she too was torn to ribbons, her skin worn like a ragged cloth exposing a hardened white bone just barely underneath the layers of her skin. When had she summoned her bone shields? Even she could not remember when she had but if it was not for them she would surely look like her ANBU right now –shattered in pools of blood around them.  They couldn’t stay here. Tsurino stood slowly, testing the weight of her body on her overworked bones and muscles, her white hair a matted color from the blood and dirt and dust that fell around them. She could stand, by some miracle Tsurino was in better shape than Emiko who looked to her. She could just take Hisoka from her, she could kill Emiko –the terrorist, who wanted to take the last connection Tsurino had with Inoshi away, take a member of the council, a war general away.


Tsurino could probably kill her now, even in her own battered state it wouldn’t take much. The Mizukage  walked up to them, her mind calmly settled on her answer. It was what must be done for the sake of Hisoka now, for his safety. Emiko’s plea came over barely like a whisper, the final words of a struggling shinobi who slaughtered so many of Tsurino’s men in a single night, who sent her universe into chaos. It took only a sharp blow to the back of Emiko’s neck, Tsurino’s fist even gave into the paper neck and she saw a momentary flicker of surprise in the woman’s eyes before the Ryoku woman collapsed, her body fallen onto Hisoka like paper dropped onto his lap. Only a few skeletal pieces to give her form something that looked humanoid. ”You have my word.” She murmured, pulling the paper into an empty satchel she took from Hisoka’s belt and tied it back to his tattered belt.

First, Tsurino grabbed Hisoka, throwing him over her shoulder and feeling him pull at the loose tattered skin  she now wore like loose clothing. It was fine, she told herself. The pain kept her awake. Next she grabbed Inoshi, his body limp and pale- now cold in her hands as she could do nothing but grab the back of his shirt and drag him along. There was one place, only one she knew she could turn to where only she could find sanctuary, untouched by even the rest of the council. A place Inoshi made just for her.

She struggled to stay awake, concentrating on her steps as she took them down the winding halls, deeper into the bowels. To one of the many entrances to her bunker. Her breathing was ragged and shallow, loud in her ears to accompany the sharp ringing that remained ever present. She stumbled a few times, her shoulder slamming into the wall as she continued on, the overbearing weight of carrying three human beings on her body pushed past exhaustion was crushing her. But she reached a point and placed her hand against the solid cement wall, feeling it remember her. And she walked through the tunnel. Take me to the bunker she thought, over and over. ….Take me home….


Keep them somewhere safe.
God help us…..what was that.



She could only stumble into her bunker,  seeing it’s familiar set up, completely undamaged from the tremors. It wouldn’t be, this was the most reinforced place in all of Kirigakure. Inoshi’s body dropped from her hands the first several steps into the room, landing face down in a heap on the floor, his dirtied blond hair splayed around his head like a twisted halo.  Hisoka was dumped onto the medical bed. Tsurino checked his temperature with the back of her hand before she left him pulling the bag that held Emiko’s remains free and dropping it on her desk like a satchel filled with paper charms. She didn’t know what to do with a body that was comprised now of nothing but shavings of paper. Right now she didn’t even know what just happened. She groped the shelves for a moment, grabbing an IV bag of saline solution and walked back to Hisoka, her gaze half lidded and distant as she hooked him up to the bag.  The last hour –no the last three hours seemed like some sort of horrible nightmare, a nightmare that faded with her consciousness as she pulled Inoshi onto  her work table. Her heart plunging into Ice as she saw him, cold on her autopsy table, the realization finally sinking in as she looked at him in a place Inoshi should never have to lay.  He was gone….

finally too tired to hold it in, alone, safe, secure and the pain she finally held in locked away came bursting out in a loud agonized wail, she gripped the edges of the metal table and shook. A sound  that had been trapped in her lungs from the moment she felt his life slip from her fingers, pain, exhaustion and sorrow echoed off the stone walls. She could only grip the edges of her table to keep herself standing, tears falling in dirty streaks down her face and scream. Scream in sorrow, in anger, in confusion before the sound, died in her throat to leave only quivering breath and wide eyes to watche his motionless body. He would have laughed, spoke to her in the voice that made her think he thought less of her for showing such emotions. This wasn’t a pain she had ever felt before, loss. Her skin hung off her body in in ribbons and it was only an itch compared to knowing he would never speak, never open his eyes.  She couldn’t scream anymore, she couldn’t cry as she brushed the dirty hair from his face and pushed away, stumbling to Hisoka’s bedside. It wasn’t fair; his legacy didn’t deserve to die buried two hundred feet underground where no one even knew he was. Inoshi was a man to go out in nothing short than a blaze of earth shattering glory…not the choked whispers where he didn’t even know death came. She didn’t know what to do, she couldn’t face the unfairness as she sank into a chair beside Hisoka’s bedside , leaning over to the edge of his bed, close her eyes and sleep.



The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard.
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.

                 -William Shakespeare

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