"Captain, Mari Kurio has left the village."
"Where did she go?"
"She picked up a bodyguard contract bound for the Land of Fire, took the client and her three students, and set out."
ANBU headquarters.
Great Tengu lounged in his chair, thumping lightly at his chest as he listened to Mist Crow's report.
"What client?"
"A little girl about this high, and blind." Mist Crow lifted his left hand to his midriff to show the height. "According to Mari, the girl's father is a merchant from the Land of Fire. He came to the Mist on business and vanished."
"A blind girl?"
Great Tengu's eyes tightened.
He had ordered the lockdown because the Mist's top fighters were away and he feared spies would sense their weakness and draw Orochimaru in.
News had arrived the day before. ANBU Commander Grim Fang had already run Orochimaru to the border of the Land of Water and engaged him. From the elders came word that Ao had dispelled the genjutsu in the Mizukage's mind. Only the cleanup remained.
They would be back within three days.
To prevent a strike at the critical moment, the elders were guarding the Mizukage in person.
All of them were in the ANBU underground facility.
In short, most of Kirigakure's crisis had passed. Only one thing remained, the ghost who had murdered Hoshino and Naoko. Whoever it was had left the scene spotless. Even Blood Hound, his best tracker, could not get a scent.
"Are you absolutely sure about the girl?"
"She has no chakra circulation. No callus at the knuckles or palm, no wear patterns from taijutsu or throwing practice. Smooth muscle tone, unscarred skin. I took a blood sample to confirm it was not a transformation, and we had her remove the blindfold to verify the blindness."
Mist Crow paused, then added, "We still have some of her blood. If you think it is necessary, I can bring her back now."
He had said a lot without giving a judgment, then bounced the choice back up the chain.
Great Tengu knew there was no pinning Mist Crow down. He thought a moment. The checks sounded thorough. He waved lazily.
"No. Put the word out that the Mizukage and Elder Genji will return shortly and the lockdown will lift. Tell everyone to stop pestering me."
"Yes, sir."
Mist Crow dipped his head and blurred into water.
Silence returned to the underground chamber.
Watching him go, Great Tengu could not shake a small unease. He worried it like a bone for a minute and found no answer. Perhaps it was only the release that came when pressure bled off and the Mizukage's return was in sight.
It would not be long now.
Once Ao came back, the Byakugan would be the perfect hound. The killer of Hoshino and Naoko would not slip the net.
His oldest friend's voice rose unbidden in Oike Takuto's mind.
"Takuto, I do not want to kill our comrades. We have to change this, change this damned Village of the Bloody Mist.
"Men like us are weeds. Only ANBU gives us a sliver of a path.
"We need power. If we make it into the village leadership, we can change Kirigakure.
"I… I married Naoko. You like her too, I know you do. Even if you are my best friend, I will not give her to you.
"Naoko is pregnant. I may leave ANBU.
"I cannot let my child be born in a place like this.
"Takuto, you are the most gifted shinobi I have ever seen. You will change this damned Bloody Mist. I am sorry, brother, I cannot walk beside you any longer.
"Takuto…"
Click.
A lighter spat up a yellow flame. Fire licked the end of the cigarette, throwing the walls in and out of shadow.
"Kh, kh…"
He pinched the cigarette, covered his mouth, and coughed. Blood bubbled from his nose and lips, spattering his mask and collar.
Blue light flickered in his eyes, on and off.
"The most gifted one, is it… heh… Hoshino… kh, kh… ugh."
…
Two days later.
"Here, careful, it's hot."
"Thanks, Arata."
Night draped the trees. Firelight turned the half-circle of trunks into a ring of looming totems.
Konome accepted the spit-roasted bird Arata Okamura handed her. She puffed on the steaming surface, then took a bite.
Huff.
So hot.
She chewed fast, blowing out little puffs of air. The fat was rich and fragrant, salted just enough with sea salt. Unlike farmyard chicken, the flesh had bounce and a pleasant chew.
"Taste good?" Arata asked, bright with hope.
"Mm. Delicious." Konome nodded hard and took another huge bite.
Arata's grin ripped wide.
"Your Fire Style finally found a use," Sena Yamato said dryly, tearing a strip from his own bird and checking if it had cooked through.
"Hey, Sena, throw a little Water Style when we're done. I want to wash my feet," Arata shot back. Before Sena could answer, Karin Kozan and Mari Kurio leveled him with identical looks of disgust, chewing in synchrony.
Sena smothered a laugh at Arata's retreat and bent over his food.
Rip.
Savory juice spattered.
Konome had somehow finished her entire bird and was already tugging a drumstick off Sena's.
"Uh… Konome, that one was mine…"
Sena stared, blank.
Konome polished off the leg in three bites, lifted both hands, and licked a shine of grease from the corner of her mouth. Her blindfolded face was the picture of innocence.
"Sorry, Sena. I cannot see."
"Pff—"
Mari, Karin, and Arata burst out laughing, Arata the loudest by far.
"Konome, well done. That guy needs to learn to eat before he talks. Here, take my drumstick too."
Arata stuck up a thumb, then tore off another leg and passed it over.
Sena looked at his bird, now missing a quarter of itself, and shook his head. Konome was sweet and easy to like, and the blindfold made her even softer in their minds. They had not traveled long together, but in Mari's squad her stock already rode high. Mari doted, Arata hovered, Karin fussed.
Sena could hardly pick a fight with a little girl.
Konome made short work of Arata's leg, her pink mouth working like a blossom in the wind. She still looked hungry. Sena blinked, tugged the last drumstick free, and, as coolly as he could manage, pushed it into her hand.
"Thank you, Sena."
Konome's smile flared, and the leg vanished in two hearty bites.
Ever since her Shikotsumyaku and Byakugan had awakened, her gut was a bottomless well. Anything that went down met acid like a razor. Nutrients became energy almost at once. If she could not spend it, the surplus converted to chakra and tucked itself away. Slow her metabolism, and she could eat once in a fortnight and be fine.
Without that efficiency she would never carry a chūnin's worth of chakra in a child's body.
They stared as she devoured yet another piece.
Curiosity took them.
Mari and Karin joined the test, handing her another drumstick, and another. Konome, smiling under the cloth, felt like a street performer doing a chicken-eating act for coins. In her head she half heard the clap and shout of a watching crowd. Another one. Another one.
She pushed the little theater aside and kept eating, one bite per leg, clean to the bone.
Being stared at was a small price. The energy mattered.
She had a plan to work on, after all.
Her Perfect Combat Frame Project.
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