Clairvoyance (P, Kutari)

Night had crept up on the remains of the village - casting warped shadows onto the sand as the blazing sun set below the horizon. There was something in the air tonight - something unexpected was coming, and was about to collide with Mizuki, The Monster Reborn in the eyes of Kenshin, The Faceless man. Her elbows were propped on the windowsill - the perfect view for watching the sunset - she had little interest being out when it is so unbearably hot during the day. Her fingers wrapped protectively over her pale cheeks, black hair flowing freely back from her face and trailing down her back - the wild look of it giving the impression of ruffled feathers. Hard eyes stared out at the last vestiges of light as they disappeared from view, her pupils retracted as they attempted to get used to the growing darkness, revealing the mixed colored iris - deep purple around the outer edge with a blood red center; much like The Demon’s eyes were. They had changed over time as she spent more time with him, growing closer to him, watching her resolve begin to melt. 


She furrowed her brows in disgust at the last thought, pushing away from the window with unnecessary force, her footsteps echoing loudly in the empty home before becoming silent as her boots touched sand. Her lungs expanded in gratitude as the outdoor air flooded in - the tightness in her chest releasing, she hadn’t noticed it had begun. She needed a distraction, tapping her fingers against the side of her leg as she contemplated where to head - research was usually the best distraction - maybe she could find a history of invasion tactics - that is if there are any texts left standing. Turing to the east she headed in the direction of the archives, or at least that is what she gathered from Amat - a girl who seemed starved for information with an insatiable hunger to match. 


It wasn’t much, but the building was still standing - lacing her fingers around the door’s handle she pulled, the door screeched in the effort it was undergoing. It traced a path in the sand that was relatively clear - as if someone had also entered the building recently, eyebrows furrowing again she gazed into the open doorway with distrust in her eyes. If there was someone in here who would it be, Amat? She had nothing to worry about if it were her, Kai? Well they had their own thing going on - not so much teacher and not so much student kinda thing. Kenshin? No, he would be in his little lair under the hospital. Brushing the thoughts aside she delved into the lackluster books shelves - in the haste to destroy information while under the attack a lot seemed to be burned in piles here and there, missing, or utterly ripped to shreds along the floor. What a shame to destroy something so beautiful - even someone like Mizuki could appreciate the magnificence this building used to command. 

As she perused the shelves, her finger tips trailing lighting across some of the spines of books left behind, before stopping suddenly. Her eyes frozen on a figure across the way, also looking at the shelves, their back was to her but she had no idea if they had been there the whole time - had they watched her without saying anything? Who were they… nothing about their figure reminded her of anyone in Suna she was familiar with - a small burst of goosebumps crept over her body as she continued to stare with hard eyes. She had to say something, but approaching with caution was her priority, clearing her voice slightly she projected it across the room. “Not much left, looking for anything in particular?” she waited with curious yet cautious eyes, for the stranger to turn and respond.


[WC 636]

His second home would be a shadow of the meager glory it once boasted - the invasion hellbent on tormenting the Uchiha, snatching away the people and structures which he held dear. The conjoined of Konoha and Kiri effective in desecrating the archives, he laid in the aftermath of nailed wooden boards along the walls to cast away the penetrated walls midnight breeze, aches and moans of agony from the scholarly temple’s as it rocked hesitantly. He’d look to the recently installed skylight with a perfect view of the bashful moon along the horizon: his sanctuary defiled.

A short smirk would seal itself along his face as he rummaged throughout the abandoned facility, the efforts of the locals to organize the redesigned library falling on the deaf ears of Kutari, soaking in the emotional blows and mockery while concocting a vile plan to claim vengeance on those who not only took the Kenshin he knew from this world, but this cherished facility that conditioned his wisdom and intellect for the outside world. An area he found comfort away from the riff-raff in the village who scowled or ran just at the sight of him after the genocide he commenced long ago, a neutral place he could focus his thoughts while simultaneously discovering tales of the previous world when Sunagakure was a vast village, where a once directionless boy found purpose and grew through his research - now in shambles.

The dust along the shredded paperbacks would incorporate various strands of debris as he searched yet patiently for a book that was legible to reminisce upon, the cold air barely noticed by the hardened warrior as the compromised building held little resistance for such elements; the natural light of the moon illuminating the room in a mystical moonlit aura. He’d finally happen upon a book as he flipped pages slowly but in abundance, the various pages featuring burns and marks that rendered it incapable of being perceived once again, hundreds of texts and knowledge exiled to the void due to the idiocy of humanity.

As he traversed the pages contemplating his act of retribution on the village’s involved, he’d hear the pitter patter of a lone agent from afar slowly coming his direction in the dead of night; no other soul dare walk near the grounds of the Wraith with the rumors of his return, at least those who had been around since his initial arrival. He cared little of hiding his face in broad daylight the past few days, and word surely travels quickly as he noticed the various breathing patterns within the Archives dwindling rapidly over time. This must be a new member of Sunagakure, potentially one of the allies Kenshin was referring to earlier that came to his aid after the invasion.

Regardless, he’d continue to flip away seemingly aloof as he focused on the tempo of the person’s walk, the stress put upon the grains of sand below their feet as he pieced together their physical report and gender slowly but surely. He’d listen closely for any others nearby in case this was an assassination attempt with numerous members apart of the ploy, be it revenge for the massacre he invoked long ago or some other reason he’d soon find out - instantly becoming suspicious of this anomaly. In the likelihood this was a new ally of Kenshin’s - not recalling any of the previous ones wielding such a movement pattern - he’d prepare a plan to test their intentions as he began to read a legible page of his book with a perfect line foreshadowing the coming events: Not everything is as it seems.

The moment she entered the targeted vicinity of his ploy while still a distance away, he’d influence her with subliminal augmentations that would soon be recognized though for the time being remained hidden as he continued to read the same page and no longer turn the pages, expecting the lone wolf to be studying his patterns for any hint of acknowledgement that her presence was revealed. The scenery around would remain unchanged and unlayered as the cold sand lazily coated the terrain.

In but short time the person of interest would be within the building and behind Kutari, pausing suddenly upon finally noticing his presence, could they be acting clueless intentionally to catch the Kage by surprise? Though coming off as genuine, trickery was the main appeal of the Ninja way, and suspicion of this person’s true identity remained. She’d see a man with chestnut long hair and similarly painted complexion wearing a black and white suit with inky gloves and katana attached to his hip holster; one of his hands by his side and easily seen by the lady as the other was blocked by his torso. Though now paused the second act of his show would commence, the cold air masking his deployment as the moisture in the air would solidify sporadically throughout the scenery surrounding a particular anomaly specifically, though unbeknownst to the trespasser as the visual scenery remained composed and unbothered following along the script like usual.

As this development occurred he’d answer the lone girl’s question as the pieces have been set speaking calmly, his amber optics gleaming in the gloomy frame as he turned cynically directing her attention to his troubling aura, “Yes actually, I believe I’ve already found it however. Do you recognize this by chance?” As he turned he’d reveal what resided within his hidden grasp, intently studying the woman as she’d feast her eyes upon the bloodied decapitation of the man famously known as Stark within the village, his bloodshot eyes and purple yet pale skin describing a tale of a prolonged period of torture along the perfectly sculpted head.

The crazed lunatic would wear a crooked smile as he derived pleasure from the crime he committed, clearly struggling to hold back a hysterical laugh as the trespasser oozed malice. Holding the head by the shredded hair strands which somehow remained by the ripped bald spots, he’d violently shake the head around as he took a small yet oppressing step towards her as if stalking his prey, a ferocious beast ready to take it’s next life, “I can tell you’re weak, depending on your little caretaker and hoping he’ll make all your problems go away. Though I’m willing to have mercy upon your pitiful soul, arrange for the rest of his followers like yourself to arrive here within the hour and I’ll let you free. Or you can try to flee and make your death all the more entertaining for me. Deal?” The lunatic would watch the girl as he expected an answer soon enough, the woman already encased in a surrounding spider web of his maximum efforts, just waiting to punish her for the movement he expected out of a weak minded soul. She’d have to tread carefully if she wanted to escape this scenario with her life, Kutari a man willing to kill anyone given the proper push.


WC: 1166

The room was growing colder - or was it simply the chill of the night air combining with the chill in the atmosphere that the figure, back still to her, was seeming to exude. It was ominous and enthralling like the deepest note played on an organ that was placed in a cathedral. Though no noise followed her question for a few moments -  the silence echoed back in deafening waves seeming to crash against her sensitive ears that were already on high alert. Her posture changed slightly as he began to turn toward her, leaning slightly on the balls of feet poised for movement - it was instinctual, like a cat beginning to feel threatened. Amber and Menacing - met Violet and Stony. She held that gaze for exactly the length of his question, unwilling to break it as she was, her eyes dropped instinctively with the inquiry. Crack. The stony look in her eye broke as suddenly as it had appeared- replaced with shattered reverie- while the most sickening feeling of ice ran from the back of her hair line and down her spine, leaving her with unease at levels reminiscent of The Demon himself. 
 
Held in a tight gloved fist was the mutilated head of said Demon... of Kenshin - or Stark for those who weren’t as associated knew him as. One small whispered word, “Kenshin…”, was the only thing that she allowed to escape her lips as she took in the scene fully. Blood dripped down onto the floor from the gaping hole at the base and her lips pressed together tightly, resisting the urge to react  to the sight physically. Her entire body had gone rigid for a fraction of a second, her pulse spiking as she took in the bloodshot eyes - panic soon to follow a weaker minded individual. Had it not been for the years of bloodshed by her own hands, the reaction to seeing a decapitated head - of any origin - would be enough to shake a weaker soul. Her lithe frame eased into a more relaxed position, she had moved her footing, simply relaxed her poised position and began to calm her mind. Ridding it of the emotion that would cloud her judgement - was she in actual danger or was this a sick way to break her. The adrenaline aided in the clearing of her previously shocked mind - familiar icy calm seeped into her fractured mind.


Now was not the time for mourning, that was a luxury granted to people who ran in safer circles. Instead she took the feelings she was experiencing crashing like waves over jagged rocks - heartache, disgust, sorrow, and hatred. All of it now locked deep in the psyche of the girl - who now stood resigned and dignified - her piercing Violet eyes no longer cracked and shattered as they were moments ago - but hardened with an increasing sense of determination to remain his. Forcing her eyes to focus on Kenshin’s head - which the crazed man was joyously swinging antagonistically in her direction. Her attention was grasped again as he took a solitary step toward her - towering over her in height as he was - she remained unflinching, staring back into those malicious amber pits. Weak. She had been described as such by everyone in she had come across in Sunagakure - and it seemed the trend continued here too, they weren’t wrong assumptions, her physical ability lacking in comparison to her allies. Her porcelain face impassive as he offered her soul mercy in exchange of her loyalty to Kenshin; to her family. Amat, the Little Wolf that she held in high regard and simultaneous protectiveness. Kai, the Uchiha who had introduced her to genjutsu first hand and was like an older sibling. Finally to betray her loyalty to Kenshin would not only be cowardly it would be going against herself in a way.

Her voice was calm, not a trace of unease on her face or in the tone of her response, “No Deal. I may be weak, but I’m not so pitiful to be labeled a coward. If you want them you’ll have to find them the hard way.” The herald’s eyes would look defiantly at the head, still dangling with his fingers intertwined in the hair. Her hand raised instinctively out as it began to slip from his grip, a horrible image of it slipping completely from his grasp to roll onto her feet flashing into her mind, causing her hand to extend as if in caution - instead of slipping through the empty air it sliced against the tip of something that she couldn’t see…a drop of her blood hanging in the hair momentarily.



Suddenly the world melted around her - revealing the truth she had been blind to - a small flame rekindled in the hardened eyes as the mutilated face of Kenshin dissolved into a book, battered and burned on the edges. The relief felt lasted a fleeting moment as her focus was brought to the entrapment she had unintentionally discovered. Several dozen needles poised around her in an array of angles , leaving her with very little breathing room. She allowed her eyes to unfocus and stare out into the middle of the room, contemplating the situation she was actually in, instead of the situation she believed to have been in. The stakes were different in this scenario, the damage focused on her - but if he wanted her dead she would be. The violet pools narrowed slightly as they refocused on the face of the lunatic; maybe paranoid was a better description and worse still. She was trapped at the moment - completely at the mercy of someone who knew too much and knew how to use it to push her. She knew this jutsu herself, and it couldn’t last forever… maybe it was precautionary, but she had a heavy doubt in her chest at that idea. “What else can I help you find?”, her comment was harking back to her naive first question to him, but her voice was laced with apprehension, weighing her options in her head. She stared intently at the man, awaiting his intentions.

[1012]
[TWC 1648]

The composer would watch intently as the circus unraveled, the woman before him unintentionally revealing a detail about the identity of the head that was a vast mistake on her part, showing the fact she knew Stark and Kenshin to be one and the same. To a random lunatic this may not mean much, however as it was in fact Kutari this confirmed various details about her own origin and relationship with Kenshin, along with the consequences in blurting out such confidential information. Though he’d continue the act as he studied her following reactions and answer to his “deal”, noting how quickly she composed herself and came to terms with the series of events as they were presented; quite a fascinating switch up which made the perpetrator wonder whether it was all an attempt to lie to herself or genuine equanimity. She came off as a bit too comfortable with this situation, as if she’d been programmed for predicaments similar to this untimely death through repeated simulations similar to his own form of training in the past - her demeanor coming off as experienced.

Alas, she’d soon give her answer to the deranged as she refused his call to action in favor of protecting her friends locations along with subjugating them and herself to a world of pain. An admirable choice, one in which Kutari was utterly disappointed by. The swift equilibrium she reverted to after seeing her close friend’s confirmative death suggested she remained in a calm and collected mindset, however she failed to see the truth of the illusion or sense something amidst even with this mental clarity then proceeded to sentence herself and her allies to a painful end without any plan to escape the current situation or prepare as such. Her battle stance was filled with various holes and punishable zones, if one could even call it a battle stance and not a casual one. She was nothing more than a novice who wore a face of apathy while internally fuming with emotions that clearly lack any logical guidance.

“How disappointing,” the supposed lunatic would collectively suggest as he watched the girl collide with the needles that would soon break her from the Genjutsu, beginning to grip the book normally between the pages in a single hand, the other beginning to slide into his pocket as the show had come to an end. The elusive shadow would suddenly come off as a completely different person than the rabid individual the woman met a few moments ago, delicately framing the intellectual persona the master of masks would normally default to. Having spectated her eyesight focused on the “head” before colliding with the ice needles, it was apparent the naive child would’ve never noticed the ice needles and had she been more eccentric, killed herself in the process.

His focus would no longer be centered on the girl surrounded by an array of needles - 50 to be exact tailored around her being as she was trapped with little room for movement - but instead on the pile of books he was initially searching through as he tossed the currently held one towards her feet to gawk at. The aloof personality of the Shinobi was clearly discernible as he went about his business, several seconds having passed before he began to speak in a calm and methodical setting, “Not only did you fail to realize you were in a Genjutsu, but upon collecting yourself you chose to subject your remaining allies to being hunted and tortured for information out of a selfish desire to not be labeled a ‘coward’.” His last statement would ring in the desecrated building eerily as he made it clear his disgust in her choice of wording and mentality, the rhythmic beat of the paperbacks collecting themselves on the floor with a small thump the only other sound which could be heard. “What’s worse, you did so without any sort of plan to escape this predicament. What exactly was going through your mind, just because you said no I’d set you free? That someone would magically come to save you? You gave up. I fail to understand how Kenshin somehow finds you clueless people, which reminds me: Kenshin? Do you even realize you called him Kenshin rather than Stark? Or what those repercussions are exactly; just how important the Kenshin Uzumaki of Sunagakure’s head truly is?”

His frustration was beginning to become more clear, having grown sick of dealing with such idiotic people that Kenshin consistently befriends and believes they’re worth keeping around. He worried deeply for his friend, and this meeting only confirmed his worrying would be justified. Though before he could continue he’d suddenly be saturated with joy upon his findings, “Ah! Here it is, finally. I had a good feeling this book at the very least was still intact and legible after the destruction.” Happening across a book he recalled which spoke of the mystical tailed beasts and having a piqued curiosity due to his recent bond being formed with such a species, he’d hope to research more about such a thing and learn more about said monstrosity. Placing himself down on a rotting seat beside him, he’d settle in the chair lazily as he crossed a leg over the other and began to read while going back to his thought, “I didn’t expect you to fail this terribly in truth. At first I thought maybe you were some civilian which would justify the clumsiness and lack of code, however you surprisingly have a moderate amount of chakra to sense along with knowing Kenshin’s true identity, and I’d take it he wouldn’t reveal such a thing to simply anyone. You weren’t here before the destruction, therefore you must’ve arrived recently...He truly needs to choose his acquaintances better.” Flipping the pages swiftly after reading, he’d hope to get to the important parts to reap some sort of information regarding a jinchuriki and his beast to learn upon how to control it and strengthen their bond. He’d be half listening to her and half reading while he’d near the end of his spill and enact what was deemed necessary.

“Overall, you failed this little test. I would’ve been content if you at least noticed you were in a Genjutsu legitimately, however the way you did so just showed how vulnerable you are.” A short pause would ensue as he found the page he recalled skimming long before the current events took place, beginning to read the lines gleefully as he’d begin the consequences of her actions, “Since you’re so keen on subjecting your comrades to pain as well without a strategy to assist them, then you should be prepared for a similar outcome to your own being, correct? Let us partake in some endurance training: your objective is to stay completely still and endure the coming trauma for the sake of your companions, otherwise if you move the sharpened needles that’re now honing in on your vital areas will find it’s mark and your death will be your own doing. Now that the instructions have been made clear, let’s test your vigor. And worry not, I’ll make sure not to kill her, if she does perish it’ll be her own doing.” His last line would be directed to the one that Kutari knew was watching the scene unfold from afar, knowing little escaped the attention of the abomination which led this village behind the scenes.

With a concise flick of his finger along the loose paperback, the needles surrounding her lower half would antagonize her being, focusing heavily on the achilles heel and pressure points that he knew the human body historically featured little resistance and was a field day to abuse. Such precision would cause the average person to collapse with such consistent impacts if she failed to evade the needles only mere inches from her body, making sure the needles wouldn’t make contact simultaneously but repeatedly to prolong the experience for the greenhorn. Those watching the mastermind would witness just how calloused and detached his humanity remained as the likely sound of pained grunts and punctured skin along multiple avenues wouldn’t even faze the casual gentlemen; the sounds of torture unpleasantly soothing the breathing husk enveloped in dusk.

The grueling session would likely last for a lifetime to the woman as Kutari orchestrated his technique to take it’s time as it worked it’s way up from the feet, beginning to pierce her arms and torso as the needles lined up for the vital portions held their ground; a crimson sea trickling down the various holes that fully pierced her body and protruded on the opposing side of contact, if these attacks hit of course. The calm and unconcerned breath of the Uchiha would likely contradict the other humanoid in the room if he was to predict such an outcome, though for him the exam would soon conclude if all went as planned.

The final needles that ranged from her neck and above would be eager to caress the flesh of it’s suitor as it hungered with a cool expression, however avoiding said temptations until Kutari noted otherwise. Regardless of how the girl did throughout the exam, he’d enforce the vital needles to fetch their prize as they soared through the air to claim the life of the woman and add onto Kutari’s growing list of fatalities, however just as they began to pierce the girl reverting into particles of water as she was drenched in the substance, along with the various needles embedded in her body reverting to a similar design.

His face would rise from the book now to look towards the girl now free from captivity, curious to see the expression riddled along her face at this very point, what would it be? Acceptance of her fate? Ferocious rage? A crushed ego brought to tears and nasal congestion? Though he was disappointed in who Kenshin declared his allies, the ones that he’s met at the very least had some intriguing trait about them which showcased they were no average shinobi - harboring a level of uniqueness. What exactly would this girl’s trait be that separated her from the rest, projecting his tenor voice briefly within the aftermath, “That would be the pain you wished upon your closest allies the moment you declined my offer. Regardless of whether you could endure such trauma due to previous events and expected them to be capable of such, the very act of instructing an enemy to hunt your comrades down and torment them is nothing more but cowardice. It doesn’t matter if I would’ve succeeded or not, the fact is you lacked the tools and courage to escape your captivity. In a situation like this, you’d be dead and I would’ve moved onto the next target. How exactly do you intend to have allies if you’re just a burden to them?” The wraith would speak with interest, questioning the psyche of the female and what overcame her to go about such an inevitable demise on her own account and others. She was too trusting of her surroundings, and was so unrefined he wondered if it was all a ploy against him. Though he continued to sit in silence as he returned to his research, expecting the young girl to take this time to run away after finally being released from her imprisonment.

WC: 1904
TWC: 3070

He was nothing like The Demon of the Sands, Kenshin Uzumaki - and she was learning first hand how out of step she truly was from her own imagined beliefs about herself. Kenshin hid a lot of her faults away, ignored them and swept them aside, unintentionally so but it was evident now as she was confronted by just how undisciplined she was. How sheltered she had unknowingly become, complacent in her safe harbor she was disappointing in her lack of growth… no, disgusted was the right word. It was a rare occasion in her life that she was ever rendered speechless - queen of one liners she was unequipped to be slapped in the face with the truth that she had been avoided subconsciously all along. She was weak and she was doing nothing about it - what was the point of her existence if she were to choose to stay stagnant. She had a responsibility to herself to be further along than this - she used to be covered in blood and carnage on a weekly basis, this was supposed to have increased her ability to do just that - and yet here she was caught like a common wild animal in an expert hunters’ snare. 


He was pointing out her flaws one by one - a mental list of her failures organized flawlessly, his tone of disgust adding another nail in her metaphorical coffin. She felt an even further pang of disappointment in herself as he assumed correctly, she had banked on Kenshin coming to save her if things got out of hand for her. She had allowed herself to become relaxed, reliant on someone else to protect her instead of herself. Her face remained an impassive mask as she stared him down, his words of truth hitting her in waves, accompanied with realization, resulting in a desperate need to learn and adapt quickly. This was a wake up call - a shock to her system, tap back into some skill you possess or die as you deserve. What's the point of you if you aren’t expanding yourself - you become a waste of space entirely. Adrenaline was beginning to course through her body, bringing a slight tremor to her hands but an eerie steadiness to her eyes - where her heart raced with anticipation her mind cleared like the parting grey skies of a storm lifting. The man called out to the one she had relied on to save her, like a helpless rag doll in need of rescue - she had no desire to be rescued this time - this was necessary. Learn the hard way that you are slacking and dragging everyone down.


The ensuing moments were pure agony and horror, on levels that she was all to familiar with in her past from being in his seat - the punisher not the punished. That's what this was after all, her cockiness had gotten the better of her and she was going to be reminded painfully how pathetic she was. She was fast enough to avoid some of the needles, though they were all so closely to her body that many did make their mark. Each piercing point that sunk into her skin attempting to drag out a scream from her throat - but she held her tongue, wincing in silent acceptance, her hands balled into tight fists- as a few more pierced up her arms and a few sunk into her torso. She was still attempting to avoid what she could, but her skin was now riddled with precise piercings. It was so painful to move - the icy needles protruding out from her thinning her blood as it poured out over her black clothes and pooling on the ground around her feet. A slight tremble from the ice literally lining her body was beginning to rock her frame - a familiar unsteadiness was coming over her she was mentally slipping away and she could almost hear the audible snap of her mind as the final needles took their killing marks - the slight prick of needles just grazed her once unmarred skin before she became drenched in water, the release of the chill was simultaneous. The room was near silent as she dropped to her knees - her eyes were staring blankly ahead, a glassiness overcoming them. From his perspective he had broken her, she was now worthless to the world now. She kneeled there staring in his direction as he explained to her that what she had just endured was what she wished on her allies, she was a coward… was a coward.


Only a split second of silence was heard as his questioning ended. The gears of her mind, the very fabric that made up how she viewed the world, were rearranging - as it settled itself into place she was presented with one path that made sense to her - forging herself blood and fire.


The pain was immense -incredible in its magnitude, her stomach was clenching in agony, her breathing was uneven, but her mind … her mind was like crystal. The glassy stare turned wild - an inferno in  her eyes blazing, only the Demon of the Sand had ever seen this side of her; in that flicker he saw her potential which was quickly calmed again - this was a full on firestorm. The smile that spread across her face would come off as slightly unnerving, her legs shaky as she pulled herself to her feet again to address his questions. “You’re right.”, at first it was all she could say. “Everything you said makes sense.. What good am I if this is the state I accept to be in.” She looked down at her bleeding form, her body was trembling but her tone of voice and mental clarity showed no signs of acknowledgment to her dire predicament. “First step to being worth a damn in this world.. Is acknowledging that you aren’t shit to begin with, and go from there. This only proves how complacent I've become, and these marks-”, she gritted her teeth suddenly as she gripped her side, holding in a pained grunt, as it only proved which marks she was referring to, “Will never leave. I want to know how you think, I want to see how you see… and I have so much to do to get to where you are, it's all I can think about.” Her voice was becoming lower, losing power as the lightheartedness from blood loss started to affect her alertness, still conscious she half whispered feverishly to herself, “I refuse to be a burden, I worry if my safe harbor here is holding me back… I’ve grown weaker, this wasn’t my path.” She was definitely talking more to herself at this point. She took a sharp inhale of breath and met the man's eyes with an even stare -understanding rooted there under the agony of her body- she would have done the same, if not worse. 


She realized a sickening respect war forming for the man who had every ability to cut her down, and didn’t all for the sake of Kenshin and she knew it. Her worth was in her entertainment to the bigger bad and that couldn’t be anymore - if she made it out she wasn’t going to be the same. Without realizing she was saying something that would make no sense given the state she was in, "Thank - you."

[WC 1225]
[TWC 2873]

The Uchiha would wearily study the face of his opposition struggling just to remain on her own two feet, while briefly returning to his book periodically - noting a tone shift that was slowly enveloping her personality. It seemed for the time being at least, his work here was done fully knowing words were cheap; she could yelp and scream about doing better and wanting to improve however it would be all for nothing if after this all she returned to her usual demeanor once Kutari left this place soon enough. It would be up to this woman to decide for herself what she wished to do from here on, to remain a puppet to herself or break free of such shackles.

He’d wise from his position stretching his arms euphorically as if this tense environment failed to faze him and was nothing more than a casual chat under the stars, knowing the time between the two had reached its conclusion, clearly expecting the woman to pass out soon failing to tend to her own wounds or at least prioritize them, “I believe that concludes our little lesson here today. You can recite as much passionate words and promises as you want, however I’ve done this for a long time to know words fall on deaf ears, even to the person saying such things. It’s now in your hands to actually execute these beliefs, until then the cycle will only continue.” He’d begin to walk past the girl casually with his hands in his pockets, retrieving the book from the archives to research in greater detail at a more appropriate time. The dominance he exuded over the Kunoichi would be as clear as day, his demeanor proposing to her he didn’t even consider the woman a threat at all.

Walking beside her as he exited the building, he’d leave the woman with a few remaining words if she ever turned out to be a Kunoichi worth working with, “My presence in this village will soon be gone, for a time. Inevitably I will return, as is my part. I’m sure Kenshin will inform you to some degree who I am, though I expect to see improvement upon my return; you have much to work on. If for some reason you ever decide to take your travels elsewhere, particularly in The Village Hidden in Clouds, seek out ‘The Wraith’.”

With that, he’d exit the building and begin upon his final rounds to leave Sunagakure for a time, having retrieved a copy from regarding the 9 tailed beast successfully despite the small hiccup along the road. He’d regress memories of his encounter in the back of his mind expecting to not see the woman for some time; intrigue would settle in to see whether she’ll actually step up and mean what she said or simply wither out of existence. His wits by default leaned towards the latter, however he knew Kenshin typically chose his allies for a good reason. Kutari would snicker lightly as he imagined the reaction Kenshin had witnessing all that transpired, it seemed The Reaper actually harbored feelings.

[Potential Exit]
WC: 520
TWC: 3590

Claims:
Taking out 7 health to now be 15, and putting it into Stamina to be 60(1400 wc)
Taking out 10 health to now be 5, and putting it into Strength to be 60(2000 wc)

Jutsu:
Putting 3590 WC into Version One Cloak to be 4870/5000

Approved

The silence was dragging on… or was it? Time was fleeting and also standing still in the haze between consciousness and unconsciousness - most of her senses were so dulled at this point she had very little way in accurately gauging her surroundings. This brought an almost peace with it; her mind drifted off again lingering on her time as a child before any of this reality was ever an inkling of thought in her raven haired head. Even her memories were unclear and scattered though, the details being lost to the haze and only snippets coming to light - The warmth of sun against her face, her father’s booming laugh after one to many drinks and on and on.


The time in this shattered memory world was actually short lived in real time as only a few moments after The Wraith’s departure Kenshin was there… but he had changed too. Had she been able to observe the scene to its full severity she would be further scarred mentally by its sight. At first he would seem to merely stare at her form, growing colder on the floor, fading further away from him than he could fathom. Time meant nothing to Mizu so it felt like an eternity and an instant when insistently gentle arms would lift her form from the floor. In their arms she began to feel the smallest warmth begin to emanate from the center of her body and spread out methodically, seeming to intensify where her body was the most injured. She was mostly cradled against the form of her savior but she would tell they were moving extremely fast in a pointed direction - the small jostling of motion finally able to stir some weak consciousness into her. 


Her senses came back to her one by one and slowly - the being that was carrying her was actually Kenshin, his familiar features becoming clear. The look on his face was stricken with an inkling of fear - What could make The Demon afraid? Her thought was answered by an intensely dark feeling renting the air, Black as pitch and as terrifying as one could imagine. Goosebumps rising on her pale skin and fear kick starting her barely beating heart were the immediate responses her body had to the intense feeling. As they escaped the grounds that almost claimed her life she positioned her face on his shoulder to stare back at the retreating scene - a large mistake on her part - all breathing stopped as she witness the disintegration of what was almost her final resting place; in the center of what once was stood a horror she had never imagined existed. Skeletal and black - it was sight that would haunt her memory or at the least her dreams. 


Even that wasn’t the worst part - not a moment longer and the air was torn by the most fear inducing animalistic wounded wails. Without warning her eyes were spilling over with tears, not having the stomach to watch any longer she buried her head in the clones chest, a slight tremble she couldn’t control making itself apparent. Her voice sounded hoarse and dead to her own ears, and she expected him to be too far gone to hear her, but much like earlier she spoke to herself - “Come back to me..” 

Whether it was a combination of her blood loss, exhaustion or simply fear, she returned to the unconscious world and would later awake in the hospital - alive but in what condition.

[EXIT]
[WC 580]
[TWC 3681]

Will make claims later