Chapter 7: Betrayal
"I hate this job," Kotetsu Hagane grumbles into the folds of his magazine. He peruses it for a while but nothing seems to catch his immediate interest and he flips to the next page, almost tearing the paper with his impatient gesture. This cycle repeats several more times before he gives up and sets it down, sighing, "Nothing interesting ever happens."
Izumo Kamizuki looks at his partner reproachfully and shakes his head. It's a conversation he's long become accustomed to and has long since ceased his attempts to cajole his fellow sentry into approaching his duty with more enthusiasm. For the most part, he is right: incidents at the Konoha gates are few and far between. Still, it is a duty that must be done for the good of–
"Hey, who is that?"
A snorting inhalation precedes a decidedly unintelligent mumble from Kotetsu, who had almost drifted off in the meantime. He leans forward to peer past Izumo's shoulder at the figure he indicates. The outline is unfamiliar, and yet he is inside the village walls. Strangely, he seems to be heading outward at a brisk but walking pace. A spy would have been far more discreet and swift in his departure.
"Eh, who knows. Probably just a random villager's relative or something," Kotetsu shrugs, settling back and resting his head on his arms again. Izumo frowns and clears the wooden desk with one bound, running out to place himself between the unidentified wanderer and the exit.
"Identify yourself," he calls out. Kotetsu sighs again at his partner's incredible alacrity for minutiae. The exhalation catches in his throat, though, as the stranger bursts into a run and slams a fist into Izumo's stomach, following with a savage elbow to the head as he doubles over. He drops like a stone, completely unprepared for the vicious assault.
Kotetsu swears and jumps over the table as well, drawing one of the large blades he keeps stashed nearby. Their attacker is already in front of him, though, slicing through the steel of his weapon as though it were no more than water with a fiery arc of white moonlight. Kotetsu backpedals, trying to put some ground between himself and his opponent to give himself time to regroup, but the man is relentless. The arc – a sword, Kotetsu discovers with his flesh – razors across his thigh and drops him to one knee, then reverses to ram the blunt hilt against his temple.
The world explodes into a dazzling show of lights, then goes spinning away into darkness.
【[_|[__§__]|_]】
Tenten frowns at the glowing sliver of the rising sun. Neji is late again, by at least an hour. That makes two days in a row, which is two days more than she has ever known him to be less than punctual. Maybe he had been called away on some sort of top secret mission? He is ranked higher than her and Lee, after all. She flicks her hand distractedly, sending a flying star straight into the dead center of a target which no longer holds any appeal for her. Perhaps it would be best to ask the Lady Hokage about the issue.
She glides over the rooftops in an easy manner, despite the kinks and sores she has accumulated from the brutal sparring sessions she forced her body through last night. At the literal crack of dawn, no one else is awake, and the streets are mostly deserted. With a small grin, she wonders if the oft-inebriated Lady Hokage herself is even awake. Tenten launches herself through an open window – it is summer, after all, and the heat inside would be unbearable without ventilation – and proceeds down the empty hallway. Her hand lifts as she goes to knock on the door, but something gives her pause and she hesitates.
"Are you sure it was him?" the Lady Hokage's gruff yet feminine voice barks out.
"Yes, I'm sure," another voice snaps back. It is higher pitched, more crisp. And the attitude... Ino? It's hard to say for sure through the wood. She continues, "He was close enough for me to feel him breathing on me. It was Neji Hyuuga, and I'll stake my life on that."
Neji Hyuuga? Close enough to Ino to feel him breathing on her? What the hell is going on?
"So then what happened?" a third voice drawls. Anko.
"He dragged me to where you found me at knife point and forced me to..." The sound trails off and Tenten fears she has been caught, but there is an odd strangled choking sound. A sob? "To transfer my mind into the corpse that was there."
Tenten frowns. Things were getting stranger and stranger.
"And then?" The Lady Hokage, again.
"And then he made me switch minds with him."
"So he's in Kimimaro's body, now." A pause. "Where is his body, then?"
"I don't know. He used some scroll that was nearby. Stowed it away. Took it with him, I guess. He knocked me out right after."
"This is bad," the Lady Hokage sighs, "Late last night, Kotetsu Hagane and Izumo Kamizuki were attacked on sentry duty by someone who matches Kimimaro's description. That person escaped the village. We don't know where he's going."
The door bangs open as Anko kicks it from the other side. She glares out into the corridor, but sees no one. Tenten is relieved that she relocated herself above the doorframe a few minutes ago. Anko slinks back inside after shaking her head.
"Thought someone was outside. He was acting strangely yesterday. Let the person I think was the base leader get away. I think she probably made some kind of offer to him. He's got the cursed seal, right? Maybe he got sick of having that thing and wants to be free of it."
The silence stretches on for a small eternity. Tenten can barely breathe as she waits for the next person to speak.
"This is all speculation," the Lady Hokage says, "Until we have more information, I don't want anyone else knowing of this incident. Act like everything's normal and we'll see what comes up. I'll dispatch Black Ops to track and retrieve him. He hasn't killed anyone yet, but we can't let him fall into Orochimaru's hands. He's too powerful for us to lose to the other side."
Tenten has heard enough. She leaves without a sound.
【[_|[__§__]|_]】
She makes her move under the cover of nightfall, her mind a whirl of half-formed thoughts and abstract ideas.
Orochimaru wasn't in the base they found and the woman would not have disclosed his location without a guarantee. Was the body for payment? No, she already had that. Did she want Neji? What had she said to him? Why did he act alone? There is the ever-present dread in the pit of her stomach that Neji had truly turned traitor, but she clamps down on that. All speculation for now.
A fistful of throwing knives go into the wall in staggered procession, offering temporary footholds for her to scale its massive height. She is not concerned about anyone seeing them – she will be long gone by the time anyone notices. The only person with eyes good enough to see them at night, anyway, is the one she is pursuing. Tenten moves from one to the next in agile leaps, clearing the wall in no time. No one witnesses her climb. In her white attire, she is a ghost amid pale moonlight.
She drops swiftly down the opposite face, dragging a knife against the wooden bastion to slow her descent the last hundred feet. With feline grace, she lands, slipping through the brush like liquid steel. She needs to make her way to the base again. That's where she'll find the information she needs. The woman will be there, she knows it. She'll get the location of Neji's destination even if she has to beat it out of her.
"Show yourself."
Tenten freezes. Has she been spotted? She sinks back into the shadows instinctively, searching the forest furiously for the source of that voice. Even with the authority laden in it, she would recognize that drawl from anywhere.
"I knew there was someone outside that room. Come out and play."
Anko. Tenten grimaces, cursing softly under her breath. She hadn't expected to run into resistance this early. Still, she can't afford to be slowed now – Neji already has a day's lead in front of her – and she cannot allow her departure to be discovered this early. Her eyes catch a glimpse of movement twenty feet ahead of her, on the main road, and she reaches into a sleeve to draw out a length of fine razor wire, careful not to cut herself, and a heavy metal throwing spike, looped at one end as a handle.
Mentally apologizing to the older woman, she threads one into the other and lets fly with her grim needle.
Feedback is welcome.