Chapter 6 - The Hunt (pt 2)

To make a decision is to make a promise to yourself. You weigh everything and everyone involved, from friends to family and moral consequences to legal consequences. At the end, the decision you make needs only be approved by one mortal- yourself. At that moment, the thoughts and hopes of others matter little. To make a decision is to show absolute conviction in your choice. The ability to wake up and see oneself in the mirror is crucial. If you cannot live with your decision, do not expect others to. Self-perception means everything.
Should your decision hurt others, embrace it. The choice you made, the consequences that come with them- what they mean to you the individual is all that matters. If others are hurt, you are not affected unless you believe you are affected. Perception is reality.
To choose to love.
To choose to defend.
To choose to hunt.
To choose to kill.
To choose, knowingly, the path of evil and self-righteousness.
Choice is limited only by our own thought process. You can choose a great many things. But remember:
Others have the same right, and you yourself may be a casualty of their choose. If you allow yourself to choose, remember that you are opening yourself to the consequences of other’s choices.


Yuji burned Denryou in all the places he had cut him, leaving a horrifying patchwork of scars and burns. Denryou would live, but he would be in pain for quite some time. He was a stupid kid, Yuji reminded himself, which is why he was getting off easy.

Denryou’s breathing was labored but steady, and his eyes were closed in pain. He opened them only once, to get one more look at his attacker so that he could remember every detail possible. But the man’s figure was totally covered. No eyes or mouth, or even a nose to judge him by. No birth marks; no details of any kind.
He was going to get away with this, and Denryou knew that. It made him give up more than the pain. Until he saw his glimmer of hope. His miracle.

One last bodyguard left to him was sneaking into the room. This man had been an elite assassin for years; an old friend of Denryou’s father. The man had sworn absolute fealty to the Miyazaki family for once saving his life.

Yuji hadn’t noticed, apparently. He was too preoccupied with cleaning up any evidence he may have left behind. Denryou smirked, and kicked out. He caught Yuji in the chin. The bodyguard poised his knife in a thrust and-

Yuji spun and kicked the bodyguard in the back as he twirled. He hadn’t planned to do it; he had just reacted with pure instinct. The bodyguard flew forward- and straight into Denryou. The knife pierced his abdomen in a fatal place, causing Denryou to cough up blood while it simultaneously cascaded down his stomach and onto his protector and killer. The older man’s eyes widened in shock and surprise; emotions he genuinely felt. He had cared for the young master in the way his neglectful father never had. He’d made time for the boy- trained him, even though he chose to avoid combat and use ill-gotten money to finance a frivolous lifestyle. He thought of the boy as his own. And now-”

The older man spun, but Yuji was gone. His mission had been accomplished. He was on to the next target.
--
--

Masahiro Harunobu was the most intelligent of the Raikage’s aides. He surrounded himself with guards, kept out of politics, and led a clean, open life. All his life, he had done what he had been ordered to do. Even if it was personally distasteful, he had done it. If worse came to worse, he could tell the truth about his deeds- they had been orders, after all.

This era was an era of reason. With all the existing alliances and treaties, no one could simply harm anyone anymore. Not without consequences. The case with the Hyuuga of the Leaf was the forerunner to that, he imagined. One side had been wronged; the other responded in kind. Truthfully, it was not an era meant for an old warrior anymore. Rather, they were supposed to lead into a new era where the blade was suspended and the pen pushed to the fore.

The smart adapted to their world.
Then they made the world adapt to them.
Not the other way around.

Harunobu knew this, so he played by the rules. Intelligence before power, so it went. Diplomacy made for a great shield to those who understood it’s workings.

Standing up, he ran a hand through his graying hair, cut short into a severe military style. The salt and pepper color of his hair had not yet reached his mustache, which was still black, just as the hair on his head used to be. It was short but thick. His ex-wife had loved the feeling of it as he kissed her. Unfortunately, she found more to hate about him.

Just a year ago… Masahiro mused, stroking his chin. And during that volatile period, I made a mistake. That young woman…Azami…I should never have participated in that spectacle.

There had been no other women since, which was perhaps why Masahiro clung to the thought of her so. It was war, he reasoned- people did things they wouldn’t do normally. No one would hold a grudge. Not for a dead bounty hunter. The prisoner she had captured…now he was worthy of pity.

Harunobu’s life had been narrowly spared on the battle field when an aide threw himself in the way of a knife struck that was delivered by the young man of the Leaf. This man had been making waves, his progress hindered only when he stopped to help struggling comrades. Or, indeed, even the occasional Cloud shinobi who lay dying but not dead. Most of the time, granted, the young man had been forced to kill, but his sentiments had not been lost on Harunobu. Compassion, indeed, was rare. Foolish, and maybe even pig-headed, but rare nonetheless.

His eyes flashed to a set of scrolls. There were hundreds, all of them sheathed in black and tied with a red cord. Each one represented a life lost under Harunobu’s command during the war. He promised to remember each of them, and this was the easiest way how, as not all had bodies to be returned and cremated.

Harunobu wished he had an entire army of this ‘Yuji’ fellow. A young man who took no joy in killing, but was remarkably efficient. Those were the types that made up the backbone of an army. There were too few of that type these days.

TWEET! TWEET!

The whistle! An intruder!

Harunobu grabbed his officer’s sword and moved outside quickly and quietly. He stood on his porch, surveying the scene. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart sped up.
That man attacking…he’s just like Yuji!

The attacker had hacked his way through the guards one at a time, two at a time, even four at a time. He moved forward as though unstoppable. It made Harunobu shiver to see such battlefield prowess. The lives being lost hit him next. Until he looked closer.
No one was being killed. Hurt, incapacitated, and those who resisted maimed, but not killed. In fact, the attacked was unarmed.

Twenty-five guards…empty-handed? Who is this?
--

As the last guard fell and the shrill warning whistle stopped, from a good hundred feet away, Yuji’s eyes snapped up to meet Harunobu’s. Neither man’s eyes held any fear. It was the most resistance Yuji had faced so far on his ‘mission’. In a way, it was refreshing. The other two had died, and not even by his own hand. Foolish bastards.

The very thought of why he was here put Yuji back in the moment. It didn’t matter what kind of opponent this was. He needed to pay all the same. His strength was of no consequence. But it was always good business to confirm your target.

“Are you Masahiro Harunobu?”

Harunobu didn’t draw his sword yet. This was exciting. A mysterious intruder, clearly aiming for him. Such malice! Such shock! Where would the man attack from? The left? The right? Would he come in close, or attack from a distance.
Ah. Formalities did need to be observed, didn’t they?

“Giving your own name first is customary,” Masahiro offered calmly, belying the excitement he felt anytime he did anything outside of orders. He never broke the rules, but here came a ‘rule’ right up to his door. Just begging to be ‘broken’.

Yuji stalked closer, sure of his target now, despite the rather flippant answer.
“I am Yuji Itou. I was supposed to have died in a fire a year ago.”

Harunobu’s face fell a little. Fires were such an impersonal way to fight. Really, he took no joy in victory that way. Truthfully, it was a coward’s tactic. Your enemy always deserved to see your face, save for assassination missions where more than one life was riding on the outcome. In singles combat, a name and face needed to be given.

Masahiro licked his lips as his opponent stalked closer. There was something vaguely familiar about him…

“Maybe I can refresh your memory.”

Masahiro froze- Yuji was right next to him on the walkway!

Harunobu jumped back, a mix of anger, shock, and happiness filling him. This man was a combat veteran- not one easy to sneak up on. And yet, this opponent had done just that. And without the aid of any sort of clone jutsu!
It was a rush!

“…You raped my mistress. My beloved…” Yuji whispered, still advancing. “For a full day. You, the Raikage, and your…deceased comrades…Denryou Miyazaki and Aido Namikawa…”

Masahiro was surprisingly nonplussed by that. It made Yuji miss a step, which made him look foolish.
Which made him more angry.

“Denryou and Namikawa…you killed them?” he asked placidly. His dark skin was showing signs of perspiration now. Beads rolled down his arms, to his hands, and down to the ground below. There was a slight shake to his hand.

Yuji shook his head. “Denryou was killed by a bodyguard. It was an accident. The poor guard was devastated when my kick threw him into his ‘young master’. Pathetic creature. All those guards who stayed loyal to him, and he repaid them with weakness.”
Yuji stepped forward hard, then blurred and disappeared, landing once again behind Masahiro.
“Namikawa at least put up a fight. A failure of a man, unfortunately. I cut off his arm and destroyed his eye. He bit his tongue off and drowned in his own blood to escape me.”

Again, Yuji blurred and disappeared. This time, Harunobu heard his voice from above:
“Tell me: How will you make your penance for ruining my mistress’ perfect body? Her exceptional mind? Her life…our life. Together…How will you make ammends for the suffering you’ve caused, knowingly and willingly?”

Masahiro nodded solemnly. “An act I took no pleasure in. I followed orders like a good soldier. Though that does little to excuse it.”
He turned and went inside.
“Tea, Itou-san?”

Yuji froze, unsure of how to react. He had blatantly announced his attentions, had he not? And now this man was inviting him in for tea? That didn’t make any sense.
Which was probably why he did it, Yuji reminded himself. To catch me off guard, and possibly to poison me. As if I’d drink anything he served up.

“I’m curious,” Yuji called out, making his way closer. A pleasant wind whipped through the air, tossing his hair and coat, cooling him down from his ‘workout’. He put one foot on the porch, apparently as calm as Masahiro.
“Do you regret what you did?”

Harunobu reached inside the door. Yuji braced himself, but Masahiro withdrew only a picture in a handsome wooden frame. In it was a pretty woman, maybe ten years older than Yuji at the time of the photograph.

“This is Mihiko. My wife.”
Masahiro clutched the picture to his chest, sighing deeply, a forlorn smile on his features.
“You see, she left me. Before I participated in that rape. To which I answer your question- yes. I regret it. I haven’t stopped regretting it. Orders aside, I could have said no. But I think you can understand this:”
Masahiro took another picture out from inside the house. This one made Yuji’s blood boil.
“I serve my master with the same loyalty you give to your mistress.”

Yuji stepped up onto the porch. He was quiet, his eyes down. No surprise attack came. Nothing happened. Just he and the older man stood there for a long while. Eventually, Yuji looked up, bowed at the door, and took off his boots.

“I’ll hear your story,” Yuji told him. “Don’t make anything for me; I won’t eat or drink because I don’t trust you. But you aren’t like those other two, either.”

Harunobu returned the bow, grinning as he welcomed Yuji into his home.

Two hours later, they were still talking.
-

There was nothing left to be said. Well, on Yuji’s end. Masahiro still had a question.

My, how our conversation took twists and turns. The young man is very complex. He’s accepted my story. Is that because I agreed to turn myself in to the Leaf authorities? Or is it because we are indeed kindred spirits? Oh well. I’m old now; it’s my duty to pass knowledge on to the next generation.

“Before we depart, Itou-kun, may I ask one more question of you?”

Yuji looked up from the tea that had been set in front of him out of politeness. He nodded once, slowly, agreeing to hear Harunobu out.

“The drug…how long have you taken it?…”

Yuji didn’t even blink.
“Not for long. And once I’ve turned you in, it won’t be necessary anymore. What gave away my use of it?”

“That drug…it’s nearly tripled your power since we last met…” Masahiro noted sagely. “But your body…Is that why you’re so covered up? So no one else will see what’s happened to your body?”

Yuji gave another slow nod. “The effects are reversible, so long as I stop within a month. My skin should return to normal. The psoriasis will stop.”

Harunobu gave him a stern look. “That is not what I meant. You do know what that will do to you internally?”

“There’s a girl, lying helpless in a hospital bed,” Yuji told him, voice solemn. “She’s been that way for a year. I don’t know if she’ll ever wake up. But right now, she’s helpless, and with each passing day, her chances for being the girl she was dry up. Every day, her muscles atrophy, and her brain functions drop.”

Yuji stood up, his face set firm in an expression of defiance.
“I belonged to her for only a short while. And only once did we truly connect. But to me, that one moment was an eternity. A wonderful, blissful eternity. One that was going to continue the rest of my life. We were going to build a life together. And then, just as that’s going to happen, she’s raped. Emotionally and physically scarred. And I was broken along with her.”

Yuji reached into one pocket, a gloved hand extracting a syringe.
“A comrade from the Leaf was stolen by power, in the form of the evil Orochimaru. His power grew impossibly in a short time. This is part of what allowed that. This drug. I tried every ‘honest‘ way to get the power I needed. I trained constantly for a year. But it wasn‘t enough.”

Harunobu shook his head sadly. “But to resort to this! An honorable warrior… You were strong on the battlefield.”

“Because I had conviction!” Yuji declared powerfully. “I knew that I was fighting for the right reasons. There had to be a happy ending! It wasn’t possible I could be wrong. Failure was not ever an option. But when all was said and done, and peace came, what did I have for it?”

Yuji’s eyes narrowed as he stared at some memory that was almost tangible in front of him.
“I saw happy couples, promotions, families…and even prayer and offerings for those who had died. I saw a world that had changed for the better. And yet…In the midst of that ‘new world’, there was a black spot. My own failure to protect what mattered most to me. The one thing I had to really show for, besides the guilt of ending so many lives. I had failed. There was nothing left. No reason to go on.
So I thought: Why not just die?
But that doesn’t happen easily to someone who’s whole life has been about survival. So there was a choice: Inject something lethal and die, or inject something bad and live. Because if I didn’t do something, I would die, mentally or physically.”

“So this drug is saving you and killing you at the same time?”

Yuji’s gaze darkened. “It allows me to avenge my mistress. That’s all I need. Besides…
If she never recovers, this drug can be synthesized into a neuro-toxin. An easy way out.”

Harunobu didn’t flinch outside, but inside his guts writhed.
The horrors he saw- and committed- on the battlefield, with the added shock of seeing his lover raped… coupled with all that, the drug has changed his personality. I may be speaking to the last remnants of the respectable man who had me dead to rights in combat.

“For your own sake, Yuji, stop using the drug. Do you want Azami to awaken to a man who is no longer the one she remembered? Is this revenge so all-encompassing to you?”

“…”

Masahiro believed he’d gotten through to the boy. That he’d convinced him that this was the wrong way to go about doing this. But then:

“My mistress will not be the same, even if she awakens. Why should I stay the same? To protect her this time, I’ll need to be ruthless. Beyond ruthless. Whatever is necessary to restore her life and vitality, that is what I will do. No matter what.”

Harunobu inclined his head, acknowledging that he understood. He stood up slowly, careful not to make Yuji think he was attacking. He put his tea kettle away neatly, but pulled one cup out from a cupboard. He put it into a small bag of things he was going to take with him to prison.

“That cup…the first time my wife came over for tea, she drank from it,” he explained, turning the rather plain earthenware cup around in his hand. It was black, save for a small pink cherry blossom on one side. It was faded slightly with age and use. He smiled at the cup, then set it in his bag.

Yuji looked at the cup, too. He was starting to feel bad for this man. But then he pictured what remained of Azami, and he had to grit his teeth to stay calm.
“I have no such moment of my…”
He stopped, realizing that wasn’t true. He indicated his feet by nodding toward them. It was impolite to show the bottom of your foot to someone, so unless Harunobu asked, Yuji’s description would have to suffice.
“She gave me a tattoo as she tortured me. It was one of the things that finally ‘broke’ me. At that point, I belonged to her, whatever she wanted to do to me…”

Masahiro opened his mouth to say something sympathetic, but Yuji cut him off.
“Let’s go. If you’re coming with me to the Leaf to stand trial, we need to leave. Now.”

Harunobu lingered only a moment longer, picturing his wife sitting across from him, sipping tea and laughing at his stories. He hoped the memory would sustain him the rest of his life.
--
--

Yuji waited in Tsunade’s office, looking out the window. Tsunade herself was counting out his bounty money.

Denryou Miyazaki: 5000000 Ryo
Aido Namikawa: 1000000 Ryo
Masahiro Harunobu: 15000000 Ryo
Plus ‘alive’ bonus: 500000 Ryo

Tsunade looked up to Yuji, a smile on her face. “When we’ve collected the money from the people who have the bounties out, you will not ever have to work again. You’re beyond rich now, Yuji.”

Yuji still looked out the window, only nodding to acknowledge what he’d said. She frowned at that, wondering what he found so fascinating out there. He hadn’t taken his sunglasses off. He usually observed the rules of courtesy better than that. Then again, he’d had a hard time of things recently, so she supposed she could let him go a bit.

Oh, he’s looking at the hospital. Azami’s room…

Her smile grew. He sure as hell wasn’t going to find her there.
Shizune, who had been standing quietly by, smiled to Tsunade and left.

“Yuji?” Tsunade called softly, recalling his attention. He slid his gaze toward her. At least, she thought he did. With those sunglasses on, she really couldn’t tell. He turned his body to match his eyes.

“Sorry. I’m just tired,” he told her, letting a smile drip into his voice. “I’ve been away for too long.”

Tsunade nodded her head, agreeing with him. She’d actually missed him. Moreover, she’d been worried about him. In his mental state, he could have been capable of anything. But it seemed like he’d been healed.
She pulled him into a hug. Something didn’t feel right. His chakra…it was too big. And agitated.

That last bounty he brought…Harunobu…he told me to check Yuji’s chakra. It couldn’t be that he-

They were interrupted at that point. Shizune opened the door, holding it and trying to coax someone in from the outside.
“He won’t care!” she said, reaching out to grab an arm.

Yuji’s eyes widened. He took off his sunglasses, his mouth dropping open. It couldn’t be…

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