Conservation of Ninjitsu
The last of the autumn winds mingle with the first of the winter winds in Kyoto, and the young people in this apartment building are all bent over their study desks doing revisions. Stress weighs on their minds as their chance to finally begin the next phase of their lives comes down to if they can prove themselves at the right moment. These are the ronin, youths who have already failed their aspirations and are now struggling for academic redemption. In the cells of their efficiency apartments they lead solitary lives in terror of the future. Ascetic. Adrift.
Alone among them, on the top floor, is one Nyoro Hoge who - while not unconcerned with university life - is years away from the milestone that her fellow residents have stumbled over. Even still she is in the same mindset, hunched over her own study desk, a reference textbook open and set at a square angle with the corner of the tabletop. Two blank sheets of paper have been placed over the book to push her memory. A purple pen dances over the revision sheet in front of her as she works question after question. Her fear is not in being unable to catch up. Her fear is in someday falling behind. So, for various reasons, the young ninja leads the life of a ronin.
Tapping on the window breaks her concentration. Hoge lifts her head and blinks unrhythmically, like one waking from heavy sleep. A yawn escapes her and she seals her pen before placing it precisely parallel to the page she was working through. This is all done unconsciously, because her focus is drifting from her wristwatch, to the black night kept at bay by her window, and then finally to the blond boy crouched outside of it where there should be nowhere to perch.
Hoge feels a hint of pink blooming on her cheeks and tries to make it look casual when she rests her chin in the palm of her hand in such a way as to hide the twitch of smile inspired by the sight of Inigo. She can't hide the way the sharp curiosity around her eyes softens with fondness, mostly because she doesn't know how much it shows. Inigo grins in his toothy, youthful way, and Hoge pulls herself together. By the time she crosses the room to open the window, her customary open-eyed poker face is in place. Her large dark eyes drink in the scene and pin Inigo in place.
"What have you done to make Landlady avert her eyes like this?"
Inigo rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Don't make it sound so sinister! I've just helped her out with this and that, you know, be friendly."
She takes a step back, so he shuffles forward, the balls of his feet on her window sill and the upper half of his body ducked into the room. He keeps a hand prudently on the glass outside for balance, which Hoge notices only because now she's going to have to clean it later. 'The things you do for love,' Hoge teases herself mentally. She allows herself to play with Inigo's red necktie so she doesn't have to look him directly in the face.
"I'm sure. And is that why you are delaying my studies? To be friendly?"
His boyish grin morphs into a cocksure smirk. "And here I thought we were past the friendly stage, Coru-chan."
Hoge's blush burns brightly and she purses her lips. Her heart skips a beat, causing her quirk to activate, and begin blurring her against the bright, clean space of her densely packed living quarters. Inigo knows he scored a hit, but it must be a good one because she doesn't have a retort ready either. Her voice hitches with a flutter of dipped volume like someone playing with the dial of her vocals.
"Why ᵃʳᵉ you here, Ini? If it was to help me, you would have stayed away."
"It might be to help you," he says, transparently affecting hurt feelings, "Don't you need some fresh air and a little exercise?"
Hoge narrows her eyes at him and flicks the tip of his tie against his collarbone repeatedly: tap tap tap. "And what does Gigan have to say about the kind of exercise you're thinking of?" The draconic construct in question swirls up into sight by flying over Inigo's hip and across his chest to hold on to the back of his shoulder. It mews with innocent acknowledgement.
Hoge is slightly disappointed.
"It's for a good cause," Inigo unhelpfully and only partially clarifies.
"Have you studied at all today or only made plans and played games?"
He holds his free hand up on front of his chest in one half of a begging prayer. "Can we pretend I said something really clever and handsome about studying your charms, and skip to the part where you come out with me? I really need your help. Who could be better for a stealth mission to save lives than the noble ninja hero Marumaru?"
"We can't keep doing this, Ini. They're watching our class closely now with everything that keeps happening. It can't keep getting smoothed over forever, and eventually the legal liability is going to outweigh the fame Shiketsu gets from us 'coincidentally stumbling across' trouble whenever someone in 1-D gets caught. Vigilantes don't just lose their license, they face criminal charges. They get expelled!" Hoge says the last word like she's invoking a soul-damning taboo. She can practically feel the tremors of fear from the building around her.
Inigo gives her the puppydog eyes. He takes her hand in both of his, lifting it free from his tie, and drawing her gaze to focus on his face. "No matter what happens, I'll take care of you. Please. It's the right thing to do."
That's not what convinces her. It's when Gigan gives her the same puppydog eyes, shining huge and wet from his green little head. He's simply better at it.
Hoge closes her eyes and exhales slowly through her nose. Inigo's hands are so very warm against her cooled skin. It's not fair. She knows she's not listening to her head when she makes the choice. She's listening to a tingle emanating from other places entirely.
"...Fine. I'll get changed."
Inigo bobs his eyebrows up and down. "Don't mind me," he says.
That's too much all at once. It's only months of carefully trained restraint that stops her from pushing him right back out of her window.
"Gigan!," she barks with firm authority. The creature swoops into action, flying up into the side of Inigo's face and transforming into tight green bands that wrap Inigo's eyes blind. Moments later, fuzzy puffs swell to cover up Inigo's ears, leaving him deafened as well.
"Unbelievable! Betrayed by my own quirk! Et tu, Grute?" He then sighs melodramatically, and Gigan opens dragon eyes where his master's normally would be. Hoge and Gigan share an eye roll as Inigo puts the back of his hand forlornly to his forehead. He takes on the tones of a stage actor hamming up his tragic scene.
"This is the repayment for my chivalry? Very well! I know when I'm not wanted! Good bye, cruel siren!"
He breaks character for a moment and smiles, "We'll be back in ten. Be ready for it to get real."
Then he tips backwards, slipping out through the window again, and free-falling out of sight. After a second, Hoge sees his silhouette rise up on broad dragon wings, lifting into the night sky.
Hoge huffs. "If I fall to second place I'm putting him in a lake."
Marumaru touches the helmet clasp at the back of neck. The familiar weight feels good when she dips her head from side to side. There's no need to do a physical pat-down for her gear; she knows it's all there from the pressure against her skin. Across from her, a shorter girl in a ghostly white kimono with blood-colored uwa-obi. Her fox mask hides all human expression, but truth be told, Yako would be hard to read even without it. An unconventional kunoichi on one side of the van, an anachronistic onna-musha on the other, student and teacher, in comfortable silence.
Up front, the silver-haired driver is less comfortable. She keeps looking up at the rear-view mirror to watch her passengers. Curie Aura is only here because she was roped in by that flamboyant extrovert Myoga Inigo. And he's not even here. She taps her thumbs against the steering wheel and clears her throat, but doesn't end up speaking. The other two are almost as still as mannequins, and she's regretting everything she's ever done. It shows on her face, too. But no one is looking at her.
Aura reaches out and turns off the headlights to the panel van. Navigating in a city, even a warehouse district, without them is hardly impossible and it draws less attention unless you're looking for something anomalous like this. She's doing it because she read it in a spy novel one time and is feeling nervous. She puts on her turn blinkers for a moment, and then cringes and flicks them off again. "Okay..."
The girls in the back turn their heads in spooky unison towards the front seat. Aura pinches her lips together and returns her focus to backing into a parking spot at a blind angle from the place they're heading for. Aura parks and turns off the van, then holds on to her headrest to help her turn all the way and look at the younger girls she was driving. When she does, she's forced a firm expression on by pinching her eyebrows together. It comes across as more concerned than resolute, to Marumaru.
"I've been saving up and probably won't be called on by, you know, others. So it should be fine. Try not to get hurt anyway because serious injuries are going to need more help than I should give and obviously I can't bring back the, um. Anyway. I know it's important and everything but... be smart about it and don't leave evidence and uh. Do your best. People are counting on us and I'm counting on you."
The girls stare. Probably. It's not like she can see what they're doing with the animal masks on. 'Hero track kids are so weird.'
"Probably not a good idea to use like radios or whatever. So if something really bad happens get back here as quickly as you can. I'll save you." This gets a nod and a "hai" from both. Aura half walks, half crawls into the back with Marumaru and Yako, and starts setting up the surveillance equipment filling most of the van. Maru helps turn things on and changes a couple of the more obvious settings while Yako placidly watches on. Monitors fill with green video and audio visualizations. Aura finds places to attach self-contained button cameras and checks the feeds, which seem fish-eyed this close.
"Just so you know, it's probably not going to work after a while," Marumaru says with a current of misery. She fingers the camera centered at the base of her collar.
"Better something than nothing," is all Aura replies distractedly. She turns her head to look at Yako. "Can you still see properly?"
Yako nods once. The camera at the corner of one painted fox eye winks when it catches a light. They'll definitely be able to see whatever Yako does.
"I'll be here," Aura says. She takes her seat at the monitors and the other two mercifully take the cue. Maru opens the door for Yako and makes sure it seals all the way closed after she hops out.
The pair stick to the unlit areas as they walk towards a certain factory nearby.
"Where do you think she got the van from?" Maru's habits rear their head.
"Family bought it?" Yako takes a blind guess.
"Hm."
The tip of the kunai flicks out from the seam of the factory window like a steel tongue peeking through flat lips. It flicks from left to right and the window comes free. Maru puts the knife back into its correct place and tilts the window open, climbing through even as she does so. Several seconds later and gray rope descends down brickwork, coming into Yako's reach. Though slight, she is athletic, and makes the climb swiftly. Maru, feet braced firm against the wall, lifts up a hand for Yako to hold on to and come down gently to the floor on the inside. Their two arms shake a bit from holding the weight and finding a balance.
Yako's soft voice drifts to Marumaru's ears while she's wrapping the rope back around herself. "There's a lot of people here. The air is full of their qi."
Maru waits until she can stand beside Yako to respond. She faces the opposite way to cover their angles. "So more than what we spotted from outside, then. That's good. You'll need the speed."
Yako mulls this over for a couple moments, then slowly gives a nod that Maru barely catches in her peripheral. Maru lays a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.
"Don't worry. You're in control. You've trained for this." The response is a new slackness in Yako's back, which is enough for Maru to let go.
"Sorry, but, follow close for now." She gives a mischievous little giggle: fufufu. "Watch my 'six'."
The excitement of the daring act of breaking into here is getting to Marumaru but she's also relatively calm. When she goes into her sneaking routine, Yako can still track her easily enough to mimic. Maru creeps up to a corner in this refurbished warehouse building and gets one eye around the other side. A bald man stands at the other end, next to a railing overlooking one of the larger spaces on the first floor. Something feels oddly familiar about the situation, but she puts it aside.
Maru breaks away from the corner to look back at fox-faced Yako, and silently hovers a hand in front of her chest, pantomiming a deep breath. Yako gives a curt nod of affirmation and pushes up from the wall to take a grounded stance, place a hand on the hilt of her katana, and fills her lungs. Even her skin, covered though most of it is, drinks in the air. Maru lunges forward a couple millimeters once, twice, thrice, getting down the timing, and then runs with cat-paw silence at the strange man's back.
She jumps and gets a hand on his mouth. She jerks back hard like she's trying to push it to the opposite surface of his skull. He jerks in alarm and tries to call out, only for the gutsy yell to be swallowed into muffled quiet by Marumaru's Wasuremono. In the next instant, her other arm is crooked tight around his throat and she is tilting herself back as hard as possible. Her feet are digging into the small of his back and they fall together. When she lands on the ground, curled like a shrimp, it's his own body weight that's choking him. The man lets go of the rifle in his panic, which is the first thing to make a significant sound. He digs his fingers into her arm and finds only Marumaru's gauntlets to claw into. He pushes his feet against the ground, and his heart fills with hope for a moment, only for it to be destroyed by the pain in his back as Marumaru passively wheels with him and allows him to arch himself further.
Within the minute, he's gone slack. She drags him backwards to the empty hallway with Yako leaning out.
"Good work."
"Thanks."
Soon the man is gagged with his own clothing and lashed to a pipe with strips of his pant legs. The two girls search him but don't find anything of note. Maru confiscates his phone.
"Who brings a tracking device to a crime. Honestly, these goons deserve to get caught." She punches in all the numbers for emergency services except the last one and leaves it just out of reach... after using the groggy man's fingerprint to unlock the phone and quickly checking for anything obviously incriminating or useful.
Maru briefly confers with Yako about what she observed in the struggle, and they circle back the other way.
Inayat tries his best to keep his head down. He really does. But it's all too much for him, far too much. He wanted to go somewhere beautiful, go where the money was, go where the Heroes kept the streets clean and he could find a new start. This was supposed to be where he could make enough that his tired old mother wouldn't have to work herself into a grave. She could relax and gossip with the other old biddies and make flower sweets just like she deserved to. That's the dream they sold him on the docks, across an entire ocean away.
And now weeks since he's properly seen the sun or eaten a decent meal. Weeks of this filth product being at hand, packed away, crowded shoulder to shoulder with strangers just as stressed and unwashed and underfed as him. He felt lower than an animal farmed for their meat. Hand to hand, evil powders, toxic vials, addictive herbs. Once he fantasized about stealing enough away to take it all at once and end it. But he knew what this crap was. These drugs hurt the whole time you were dying. And they made you insane first. He didn't want to die like that, raging out against the other trapped workers, the other slaves. It wasn't them that kidnapped him so it shouldn't be them that get punished.
Inayat glances to the left and right. People with hard faces, fake focus, minds split between the task at the tables and the guns in the hands of the gang that herded them here. The men stood up high, out of reach, but their weapons could get at them faster than sound. It wasn't like any of them could stand up to them. No one had a quirk worth mentioning. Inayat himself could, do what, perform birdsong at them? So they could enjoy the sound of a sparrow before they filled him with holes.
His hands stopped moving.
The woman to his right noticed and smacked him with her elbow. When his stillness didn't end, she hissed at him through her teeth.
"I can't," he moaned in a whisper. His voice was full of his panic.
"Don't. Not like this."
"I can't." He hated the whine in his tone, like a child whines. But he really couldn't. He was trying to force himself to move and it was only making things worse. Sweat stung his brow and made his shirt cling to his back.
"Don't get me shot when they miss!" She was trying to keep her voice low but it was still enough for the workers nearby. Other people at the line were starting to look and that drew the attention of their guards.
"Orra! What's going on down there?!" The crowd cringed beneath the assault of Japanese. The rattle of metal could be heard as guns went from relaxed position to firing positions, undisciplined though the shooters were.
Inayat broke. He groaned out with the sound of a sleeper in nightmare. He let out a sob but was too dehydrated to summon a single tear.
"Stupid motherf-" A white streak blitzed by the gangster before he could put stock to shoulder. His fingers went spinning away towards the floor and he howled in surprise and pain. The figure of Yako spritely jumped onto the railing and smoothly turned in place. Her foot met the man's temple and he collapsed to the ground mid-yell, suddenly silent.
The upper level exploded with noise.
Yako jumped again by instinct, and a spray of bullets tore apart the railing. Below, workers scrambled to hide beneath the tables, crouched down on the ground with their hands covering their necks, or froze in place gibbering. Inayat wet his pants with mouth agape. He stared up and tried to follow what was happening. His head snapped this way and that, always barely missing the next outlandish thing. His imprisoners were falling like wheat at harvest.
He saw Yako sprinting at superhuman speed between combatants, breaking their joints with her sword in reverse grip or slashing non-fatally at their ribs to disable them with pain. Yako as a leaf twirling in a gale and somehow effortlessly keeping another man always in the firing line of the next, so they would have to kill their battle brother in order to open up on her. When they became fed up with being picked off, the last few of them charged in from all sides, ready to use their guns as clubs or to fire down at her petite form point-blank and erase her positioning advantage. But Yako had dutifully studied the blade while they were frivolously spending their lives, and when they drew in she unleashed a storm of steel that saw them falling onto their backs and freshly scarred. One goat-horned man managed to keep to his feet, blinded in one eye by blood from his scalp, but Yako ducked his devastating haymaker swing and rammed her sword hilt hard enough into his belly that he doubled over with escaped breath. She held a hand up to his face and paused a moment. He seemed suddenly confused, dizzy. She grabbed him by one horn and swept his leg, using the floor to knock him out cold.
He saw Marumaru as a dark cloud running across the gap between upper landings by going along the wall. Maru grabbing the railing and swinging into the gap between it and the floor, taking a prepared gangster by surprise as she kicked up directly into his groin. He painfully doubled over and smacked his head on the railing, then crumpled like a dishrag to the floor. Every time a gunman thought he had a bead on her, Maru would feint one way and dive the other, or shoulder spin, or roll behind cover, the haze of her appearance and trail of her motion gaining her a series of halted assaults and near misses in the inconsistent lighting of the warehouse factory. Inayat struggled to focus his eyes on the androgynous ghastly figure of Marumaru, and struggled also to think how much harder it would be for the men up there with her while she inexorably approached them by strange and swift routing.
Maru draws her shorter blade and chops through the shirt and belt of one man, causing his slacks to fall to the ground and tangle up his feet. She palms his chin with her free hand and topples him over, slamming him harshly against the floor with a low boom. Another slows his run at her now that her sword is out and pointed at his gut. His hands go up and he begins skittering back, murder in his eyes. One of his comrades makes ready to fire but Maru pops down into a stable crouch and whips out a shuriken, catching him in the shoulder and sending his bullets firing into the ceiling. She runs and hops, planting a foot onto the previous guy's chest, then his head, and jumping for one of the rafters overhead. He is sent stumbling off-balance, and trips sideways over the railing. Screaming and flailing, he just barely manages to hold on to the lip of the floor and dangles over open space.
A madness takes over Inayat. He picks up whatever is nearest at hand, which happens to be a box of syringes, and hurls it at the dangling figure. The surprise gets to the gangster more than the pain of being pelted, and he loses his grip, falling into an old crate at the ground floor with a plume of dust and wooden splinters.
Yako disappears en route to the stairs to the bottom level. The remaining couple gangsters yell lingo and callouts to each other, assault rifles aimed at the shadowed ceiling. They're confused. Focused. Tense. Eyes wrenched open and unblinking with stress sweat beading all over their bodies. The room is full of men groaning in pain, breathing hard to keep from yelling or crying, or mumbling through concussions. It's not making it any easier. Every movement - or more accurately every imagined movement - from above is almost instantly met with the bad end of a gun barrel. Their fingers flex and threaten to start a misfire.
Maru emerges from the gloom in total silence. A trail of steam courses from the grimace of her beetle mouth. She comes from the back hall, with the offices, directly behind the rear gunner. Her hands reach up from his blind spot, slowly, surely. With a snakebite speed, her hands clap to the man's rifle. She releases the magazine and catches it in her left hand, then racks the bolt to unchamber the round and yanks it a couple more times for good measure. The man yells in a high pitched screech like a monkey and turns in a wild swing, but it's too close for leverage so Maru blocks it with her forearms and shoves at him to make distance. As he stumbles, she swings down the loaded magazine and breaks the man's nose, grabs the gun barrel, and yanks him hard back to her, getting him to fall to his knees. She handsprings backwards and catches him with her knee-guards in both his eyes, and keeps the momentum as she runs back into the shadows. The last man standing fires screaming bullets into where she used to be.
The people on the ground are yelling in terror. At any moment the bullets could be going into them and not the building. Yako runs up noisily and ducks under the table with the kidnapped foreigners.
"Hello. I'm here to rescue you." She delivers it flatly and perfunctorily, just the way she practiced it in class at high school. The C-grade effort mostly stuns the victims caught in the crossfire, but it does keep their attention and gains their silence. Yako, satisfied, peeks out and makes sure the way is clear.
"We're leaving," she says simply. She grabs a middle-aged woman's wrinkled brown hand and pulls her out when she goes. The woman says something frightfully in another language, but Yako disregards it and keeps up her run, which forces the woman along and, after a couple beats, gets the rest of the enslaved workers to follow after like ducklings through the slashed open main door.
Yako looks up with her expressionless fox mask and flicks blood off her blade. She sheathes it with an expert's grace and bows to the woman she dragged out.
"Find police," is all she says, and then jogs into the dark to make sure the way is still clear. The civilians she left behind are left agog, but take their chance for freedom, and run. Pairs and small groups choose their direction and flee as fast as their exhausted bodies can manage.
Upstairs, a gangster swept up in rage with one star-bloodied shoulder fumbles through a reload. He laughs in a growl more like a barking dog than a man's humor, and rushes towards the edge of the light. Gunmetal glints oily in the overheads. "Come out and I make it quick. Make me go in and we take all night."
He hears a long two-tone whistle echoing in the warehouse.
'That ninja punk is mocking me!' A vein pops up on the man's forehead and his pupils clench into pinpricks. He grits his teeth and sidesteps with a stomp.
"Do you know what my quirk is, freak? I just keep going! My muscles don't tire, I don't need sleep, I heal real good. I got a third again more life than anybody else, and I use it to the maximum. I'm the real deal, which means when I catch you you'll be real dead!" He keeps his back close to the wall as he creeps along and keeps glancing up as he talks, making absolutely sure he won't get ambushed like the others.
A clumsy stumble of metal to his left. He snaps over and unleashes a hail of bullets, which send off sparks from the forgotten machine part he blasts to pieces. 'It's a trick! But not good enough!' He twitches his finger and the rifle quiets. He speeds back into neutral, just in time to catch the flap of fabric falling from above. 'That won't work twice!' He grins in a sadistic triumph and fires up in an arc, muzzle flare lighting up the torn canvas emptily launched up into the metal-sheet ceiling. His breath catches. He steps back and presses himself to the wall. From his peripheral vision, he can see into the darkness better. He sees a shape: bipedal, oversized head. Without a moment's delay he snaps his aim towards it and empties the clip.
The rounds pass through the figure like empty air. The man's shaky exhale rattles out alongside the clicklicklicklicklick of his empty firearm. He watches the figure widen laterally, then fade at one end, and contorts forward as a gray hazing snake of light that halts at irregular times and stutters like a dying film reel. The five-eyed ninja steps into the pool of light with the thunderstruck gangster and pulls darkness in with it. The warehouse lights don't want to touch.
"Kowai," Marumaru says, through fragrant mist that hisses out like cicada wings. The gangster's eyes shiver and twitch. The useless gun drops to the ground in a clatter and he presses his palms against the wall behind him. He wants nothing more than to pass through and get away, even if he'd have to break his bones to do it.
"Wh-what are y-y-you??"
Maru tilts her head enquiringly. The color slowly comes back over her, as delayed as the motion trail from before. The sight of her coming more and more into focus makes her seem to him to be more and more real, which paradoxically scares him more. He stares at the way the sword in Marumaru's hand reflects the light in a dazzling flash that makes him finally understand why the same words are used for that sight and for the strike of lightning.
"...I'm a person with questions. Are you a person with answers?"
A narrow channel of hope to sail through...! The corners of his mouth spasm as he fails to wear an ingratiating smile.
"Y-yeah...!"
"Then let's begin with the name of your boss."
Maru watches him draw in the last breath he ever takes. Fast as a mantis, another shinobi rushes in and sweeps a wakizashi in a sideways grip right through the terrified man's neck. With that same uneven, wide-eyed smile frozen on his dirty face, his head rolls off and bounces wetly against the ground. The new intruder turns with practiced ease towards a shocked frozen Marumaru and doesn't deign to watch the dead man's decapitated remains spill forward. Blood pours under the other ninja's foot like red wine from a tipped decanter.
"Sounds like I made it exactly on time." The figure's voice is bizarrely modulated. The mask they wear clearly contains some gadget that takes what they say and electronically splits it into synthetic disharmonies, highs and lows talking in tandem and making their identity impossible to find. Five red lenses in a plus pattern glow faintly from the full-head mask and accompanying hex-celled hood. Their body is armored flexibly, especially the torso, like they were wearing a thick second skin. The sword in their hand dances like a butterfly in the air as they twirl it with wrist and undulating fingers.
Marumaru is in the neutral sword posture before she knows it, as if starting a duel with Chihiro-sensei or sparring with one of her dojo kouhai. When her brain catches up with a startle at her own behavior, it's at the right moment to catch the amused little laugh the stranger lets out. Then, moving with condescending slowness, they get into position with their blade stretched pointed forward and the free hand held palm-out close to the chest.
Just from the posing, Maru knows she's completely outclassed. The shinobi is slightly taller and naturally has more reach, but they also are showing that they know how to maximize it and command more space. The two shift their feet almost in unison, which makes Maru reassess yet again. Now she knows she's being read plainly, and quickly, and the stranger has more speed than she does. That's when it hits her.
'They're intimidating me without striking! I'm being led by the nose!'
"So was he an enemy of yours? Teki no teki..."
"...Might still be your enemy," the figure cynically finishes. "But no. So no hope for you lies that way."
Unconsciously, Marumaru backs away from the pressure. The foe perfectly advances to keep the same distance. They answer the unasked question.
"The one who owned that man's life also owns my contract. They were his leader. They are my Shukun."
"Were?"
"No one owns a dead man."
Their blade lashes forward several times. Marumaru desperately catches and parries it, knowing all the while that they're barely keeping up and the opponent is only testing. Only playing. She slaps the sword aside with her gloved hand and slices down at the exposed elbow, but the other ninja slaps it aside too. Instead of following it up, they wait for Maru to hurriedly recover stance. Down comes the sword again, their second hand held to the thumb of their first so the whole body can be used to drive down the blade. Maru braces her sword blade with her free hand and twists it horizontal to catch the blow overhead.
She uses the force to help her get to the ground faster. Maru kicks low and as far as she can reach, and the shinobi has to change footing and give space in order to dodge the blow. Maru turns back and onto her feet faster than her opponent was expecting and fends off the chase with sword held out to the maximum. She's ready at any moment to step into a piercing lunge.
"So why kill him?" Even as she talks, Marumaru pulls a shuriken from her leg pouch. She spots a faint nod from the other ninja, who - keeping their face pointed towards Marumaru - gets into a controlled crouch and shoves the corpse over to pluck Maru's missing shuriken from his shoulder wound.
"Traitors forfeit their lives, of course."
They watch each other. Maru tests the waters by flicking the shuriken spinning through the air towards her foe. They in turn throw their shuriken, as casually as one throws their keys on a table, and the weapons collide in the air and skitter into the ground.
"Of course."
Maru hears rapidly approaching footsteps. She tenses, knowing the sound by heart. It's Yako. And she doesn't want her friend to be drawn into this. Hoge hazes and clicks her tongue. Behind the helmet, she opens her mouth and draws in a breath, preparing to yell out a warning. But the murdering ninja surprises her once again.
They sheathe their wakizashi.
"Go no further and my master's will shall be unviolated. This is your only warning, Nyoro." Hoge reels and flinches back. The enemy shinobi turns, sprints headlong at the nearest factory window, and kicks straight through the glass. Hoge feels her mind roil as she realizes that the impact's only sound is when the shards tinkle against the pane. Like in a dream, she runs to the hole and looks through it in disbelief. If there is anyone in the midnight dark outside, they're effectively invisible.
Yako comes running past the unconscious or delirious bodies. She slows to a stop when she sees the mess of the man near Hoge.
"...Maru, did you--"
"No," Hoge interrupts sharply. She can't turn away from the night through the window. She forces her voice to soften. "But I saw who did. I guess you chased them off."
It's a long few seconds before Chihiro responds. "Oh."
And many seconds more before she asks, "What now?"
"We need to learn more. About all of this. Mm." She steels herself and compartmentalizes, shifting to investigation mode.
"I saw the overseer's office back here. It has a computer. And I bet you your choice of pastry that they left the password written down and stuck in a drawer somewhere." She begins to walk that way without quite facing towards her best friend and having to see if there's a new mote of disgust when she looks at Hoge. But even still, she hears footsteps following behind her.
Aura carefully retrieves the cameras off the girls. "Y'know, that's not what I meant when I said to play it smart."
Neither one replies.
"Nyoro-sama, the video kept going bad for a while and coming back for a bit. I didn't see most of that."
Hoge very pointedly doesn't reply. Aura looks into the wrong eyes of the Marumaru helmet, and still manages to project half a conversation with the look. I saw the important bit. Are we going to talk about it or not? Hoge tilts her head forward slightly. I don't want to. But I absolutely refuse to in front of anyone else.
Aura bobs her head. Chihiro blinks and accepts that something else flew right over her head. Same circus, new monkeys.
"...You girls are kind of scary."
There's a tense silence in the van.
Hoge raises her hands into grabby claws. "Boo," she says flatly.
After a tense beat, Aura snorts, which makes everyone laugh away the atmosphere. It's quiet, it's short, but it's real. Curie Aura climbs back into the front seat and buckles in. "Let's go check on the boys. They probably ran into too much trouble like always."
"Probably. And we found something he needs to see."