Suicide Mission
The dark limbs whipped by as they rushed though the forest in the night; less substantial than shadows while the invisible moon looked down upon their progress. The four ANBU were tense, tight; this was not their first suicide mission and they knew that complications could arise at any time, if they acted correctly and were able to respond to each challenge effectively then this would not be their last. All were too young to die; three were twenty one or twenty two while the fourth was in his early thirties. Previously a sensei and his students, they were closely bonded and worked well together; a powerful unit that had endured more suicide missions than all the D-rank missions they had been assigned as genin. They knew each other and relied on each other explicitly, all the while each knowing that the others were relying on him to perform his task; failure meant death for all.
Upon arriving at the darkened home the eldest signaled the team to stop and prepare themselves; they had yet to enter the most dangerous part of their mission. If their information was correct, a very powerful nukenin was living inside the home with ten or so other former ANBU surrounding him; a single sound and all of them would be upon the squad before they could breathe. A signal. All were moving again, slipping soundlessly into the structure and maneuvering their way through numerous hallways. They knew where the man slept and headed toward their goal with unerring precision and determination. In, do it, out. Basic procedure. But, upon arriving at their destination one of the previously predicted conflicts arose; there were thirteen doors in the hallway, seven on the left and six on the right, rather than the promised single room. After quick glances at one another they silently opened the first door, it slid open on well oiled hinges and showed a figure sleeping soundly on a low bed.
It was a beautiful woman; her beauty was enhanced by the darkness; only a small amount of light filtered in from the stars and it highlighted her porcelain skin and raven hair perfectly. The one that had opened the door began to close it before he was stopped. His teammate lowered his arm and began forward in a dreamlike way, reaching into his kunai pouch as he did so. Suddenly, the pale eyelids flicked open and the woman smoothly sat up, looking at them with dark eyes though long eyelashes; her full lips turned down at the corners and her perfectly arched eyebrows drew together, making a crease in her unmarked forehead. He reached up and pulled off his mask with the hand not occupied in his kunai pouch and set it on the dresser which was pushed up against the wall to reveal similarly pale skin and raven hair, though be bore crimson eyes, while the rest of his squad watched in confusion and shock.
He pulled his hand from the pouch and offered his closed fist toward the woman, who rose from her bed and took a few fluid steps forward, effectively closing the distance between them.
herself and the offered fist. He suddenly rotated his hand and opened it, palm facing the ceiling, some small, dark object lying in the center.
"Happy birthday," he murmured softly as she took the necklace from his hand and linked it behind her neck.
"And you," she replied as she reached into the top drawer of her dresser and offered him a dark bundle, which he took wordlessly. Both stood frozen a moment before suddenly they were in each other's embrace, holding to the other as if the world would end the moment they released one another. Just as suddenly, she released him, reaching into the dresser again and pulling out several senbon and a katana. Silently, she floated through the door, past his mystified teammates, and into the fifth door on the left. The others followed after her, still mystified. Their mystification turned to shock as they entered the room to find the target had been immediately killed by a senbon though a critical point in the man's neck; the only woman on the team, a medic, could tell that the senbon had hit a critical point and the man was truly dead. To confirm this, the raven haired woman began to silently and swiftly disassemble the corpse in the practiced way of an experienced ANBU while the others continued to watch her, once again mystified. She returned, carrying the head of the target with her and offered it to them, the eldest took it from her and put it in the bag so that they could show the Hokage and confirm that it was indeed their target.
Just as he was about to speak, she shook her head while returning to her room; once the two were in her room once again, he spoke softly,
"Return with us, to Konoha. We need your skill and I believe that the Hokage will forgive your past-," but he was cut off by a slow, sad shake of her head.
"No, I can never return. I am too far gone, but there is one that you can save, a life that has yet to be tainted by this world." As she spoke, she turned from him and walked further into a darkened corner of her room. When she returned, she carried a small bundle in her arms; when she was very near him once again, she held out the bundle and laid it gently in his arms. He looked at it in shock and quickly returned his gaze to her. She gave a soft, bitter smile and returned to her bed where she lay down silently and, before any of them could react, a senbon pierced a critical point and a small drop of crimson made its way down the side of her pale neck, hitting the sheets as she breathed her last.
The crimson eyed man slowly left the room, his ANBU mask once again in place, the bundle of fabric still securely in his arms. Without looking at any of the others, he began toward Konoha; a precious dark eyed, raven haired child cradled in his arms. A child that would one day bear crimson eyes and a dark lineage that he would have to confront, but for now the child's life was safe from the dark stain that covered all shinobi, no matter what country they associated themselves with.