If fear possessed a scent itself, then every inch of his body would be reeking of it.
A lone Konohagakure ANBU assassin walks among the disarrayed limbs and bodies spewed around him. The man remains unfazed by the scenery, mismatched eyes reflect on the pool of blood that hugs the bottoms of his sandals. He was familiar with the works of war and bloodshed. Survival of the fittest - unfortunately, it was a motto that every shinobi lived by.
The Sharingan in the shinobi's scarred eye detects the weak chakra signals emitting from those who clung to life by a thread. The crimson orb swirls in languor as he unsheathes his katana and skewers the weapon into the body of those who resisted the reaper.
A mixture of blood and saliva foams before dribbling down the corners of the sufferer's lips. His eyes roll to the back of his head whilst his body violently convulses. With a twist of his blade, the ANBU assassin watches as the victim twitches once more before stilling. The frail chakra outline of his last victim disperses and quietly leaves the world of the living. The ANBU tears the weapon out from the corpse and raises his ensanguined blade. The thick gore coats the tip and trickles down the spine of his katana.
The shinobi's mismatched eyes darken behind his porcelain mask. He was familiar with death - assassination was his business. To defend and protect his vulnerable village, his home, he was willing to give up his own body and soul to prevent any others from having to suffer the torment of taking lives. Death was never silent for the one that engages in it. Not before. Not after. Not ever.
Shinobi did many terrible things - horrible acts which brought nothing but bloodshed and destruction that continues to rage on. And he was part of this — he was stuck in the midst of a vicious cycle filled with nothing but war and conflict. How many lives was he responsible for? How many families had strived for vengeance over the ones he killed? He was tired of it all, but how was he to walk away from death when his own hands were drenched with so many of his victims' blood?
As soon as the adrenaline in his system retreats, the ANBU's knees nearly buckle from fatigue. He had drained most of his chakra and was close to passing out from exhaustion. His skewered katana was the only object that was holding him upright and preventing him from collapsing.
Desolate eyes scour over the field once more. The ANBU's left orb pulsates in its socket as he searches for remaining survivors. His crimson eye fixates on the small chakra signature that flares near the perimeter of foliage. Had a bystander meander through the scenery and witness him ridding the life of his enemies? Or was it one of the surviving targets that were desperately clawing their way out from their fate?
The rush of adrenaline returns and pushes his exhausted body into motion once more. The ANBU frees the blood that trickles from his blade with a flick of his wrist and slowly approaches the foliage with nerves screaming from tension. The weapon tightens in his gloved hand as he closes the distance between him and the foliage. Angling the weapon downwards, the assassin thrusts the katana which pierces the trunk of the tree and narrowly misses the flesh of a red-haired female.
Not one to be startled, the ANBU reels back his weapon and peers at the strange woman who had dared to approach the field of a bloody massacre. Judging from her petrified expression, he realizes that she must have been wandering by, unaware of the countless deaths that were right beneath her nose.
"Civilians shouldn't be wandering around during this time," He states, mismatched eyes tightening behind the bone-white mask, "What are you doing out here?" The ANBU assumes that curiosity had gotten the best of her and she has closed in on the bloody scenery. Nevertheless, he grips his weapon, the blade facing in the direction of the red-haired female. He had every right to assume, but he wasn't one to quickly drop his guard just yet.
Akemi peers up at him with a terrified expression crossing her graceful features. Her emerald gaze examines him, from the signature ANBU mask he dons to the black sandals on his feet. The man had metal armguards covering his wiry arms, a lean figure specked with blood, and a porcelain mask with decorative patterns that displayed the shape of a wolf concealing his face. Judging from his physical appearance, she assumes he's a trained shinobi - a shinobi that is part of an assassin corps.
She inwardly sighs with relief. At least he wasn't from Kirigakure. She would have been dead the second she was caught if the man turned out to be a Kirigakure enforcer. However, she could not identify where the assassin hails from, basing on his attire. Akemi was raised with little to no interaction with others, due to the risk that someone may come across her clan name. So it was no surprise that she didn't recognize the masked assassin.
Beads of perspiration percolate down her temples. With trembling lips, she attempts to keep herself composed. "I was searching the area for food," Akemi responds timidly and gestures to the basket which had tipped over from her encounter with the masked shinobi. The woven container laid on its side with various mushrooms and wild berries scattered across the grassy patch of terrain.
The assassin stiffens at her response as he takes sight of the items of food that spilled from the knocked basket. To Akemi's surprise, the shinobi sheathes his blade and kneels to pick up the sprawled food items that had escaped from the basket. The flustered girl moves to snatch the woven container and picks the remaining berries and mushrooms that laid at her feet.
Wordlessly, the male releases his hold on the collected pieces of berries and mushrooms and drops them into the basket that Akemi clutched onto. The red-haired girl gnaws at her lower lip and avoids staring up at the shinobi who kindly returns her foraged items. As if he wasn't standing in a field of corpses, the ANBU continues gathering the remaining items that she had dropped.
"Th-thank you."
The shinobi responds with a nod. "It's not safe for civilians to be out wandering at this time," He mutters and examines a flattened berry before tossing it to the side, "There are plenty of market stands in the nearby village. Why don't you try purchasing food from merchants instead of probing around these parts?"
Akemi tenses at his response. She had always avoided populous areas to divert any attention from her. She couldn't risk exposing her identity to anyone, especially when there were so many Kirigakure shinobi roaming the village.
"I like creating my own recipes with my own materials," She responds, her voice slightly trembling, "Plus, the merchants' prices are way too expensive."
Akemi inwardly sighs with relief as the shinobi shrugs and goes along with her fib. The man picks up the last of the berries and drops them into the basket, "Although you weren't supposed to witness the executions, I will let you off with a warning, since you weren't intervening ." Akemi stiffens at the assassin's chilling response, "I will forget everything that happened here. I promise!" She bends over and bows to thank him for letting her off the hook. She should have never let her curiosity get the best of her! There were so many red flags, but due to her intense desire to know what had occurred, she nearly had herself killed.
The shinobi pushes himself up from his crouched position and nearly plummets to the ground if Akemi wasn't there to hold him upright. Startled from the mysterious man's sudden drain of energy, the kind-hearted girl aids the male by leaning him against one of the trees, "Sh-shinobi-san?! Are you alright?" Strange enough, her emerald eyes were brimming with worry for a mere stranger - a stranger that nearly took her life.
The shinobi's broad chest rises and falls as he endures the sharp pain that repetitively nails him in the lungs. He inwardly curses at his low stamina and his depleted chakra levels. If he had reserved it rather than performing several unnecessary justus, he would have been able to stand on both feet. "I'm fine... Nothing but chakra exhaustion," The shinobi replies, gruffly. He attempts to reach for the weapon pouch that dropped from his belt and was merely an arms-length away, but winces as a wave of pain crashes his nervous system.
"Shinobi-san! Please don't make any sudden movements!" Akemi prompts, green eyes filled with uneasiness for the man. She wonders to herself, why was she helping a shinobi, a foreign assassin to be exact, when she was supposed to be in hiding? "You're in no shape to move..."
The assassin hesitates but accepts Akemi's request and slumps against the trunk of the tree. He points at the red-haired girl before gesturing to the weapon sack that lays a few feet away. "If you don't mind... There's a small container of chakra pills in my weapon pouch," He languidly mumbles and extends his arm only to fail in reaching his bag, "Could you grab it for me?"
Akemi hesitates. As terrified as she was of the shinobi, she wasn't inhumane to leave him to fend for himself - especially when he was exhausted to his very core. The red-haired girl nods and crawls toward the dropped pack before reaching for it. Her hand sweeps along the side of the pack and searches for the container.
The tips of her fingers brush along a smooth, metallic surface before she grasps for the item. Believing it was the lid of the container for the chakra pills, Akemi tugs the metal object from the weapon pack. To her surprise, she reveals a pair of identification tags that dangle from a thin, polished chain.
Curiosity killed the cat, Akemi's emerald eyes flicker on the pair of inscribed badges. Her thumb brushes across the engraved words as she silently deciphers the Kanji scrawled on the dog tags. Her blood freezes and the metal tags nearly slip from her trembling hands. Akemi could feel cold sweat trickle down her spine as her shaken pupils focus on the engraved letters. Her lips quiver as she reflects on the name once more - the name of a terrifying warrior of war in which she would never expect to greet in this time and place:
KONOHA ANBU, ASSASSIN CORPS, KAKASHI HATAKE.