"You'll have to leave before sunrise, so say your goodbyes while you still have the chance."
"I understand." Neji's voice rang hollow, his bowed head hiding the same hollowness in his eyes.
"Dismissed," Tsunade said.
Neji turned and walked out, a strange sense of peace coming over him. He made a mental to do list, as he did every day, when he knew he should be outraged or trying to find a way out of this.
Neji stopped and looked up at the moon, civilians passing by him going unnoticed. It looked just as it had the last night. Plain, unadorned, shining with hope. He had expected a sense of doom, yet was met with a sense of peace.
"Hey, Neji!"
Neji looked away from the moon to notice Naruto running toward him, goofy smile on his face. Normal as it was, the sight struck Neji as odd. Nonetheless, he managed a slight smile and a half-hearted wave.
"Evening, Naruto."
"You'll never guess what happened on my mission!"
The conversation continued, but Neji's mind remained elsewhere. This was perhaps the last time he would ever speak to Naruto again, and he spent it thinking about the mundane. However, he stayed mellow. It frustrated him that he felt nothing.
"Naruto," Neji said, interrupting his friend. "I'm going to be leaving soon."
Naruto blinked, surprised at the sudden turn in conversation. His signature smile was back as he said, "I guess I shouldn't make you late, then."
Neji started to raise a hand to stop Naruto, but a thought stopped him. What would he say to him?
He wasn't given enough time to figure that out, however, as Naruto sped off, waving a farewell. Neji sent off as well, though at a much slower pace.
As the minutes ticked by, Neji found himself more infuriated with each person he passed. He tried to rationalize with himself that it wasn't their fault they paid him no heed, but to no avail. His fists only clenched harder.
Just as his vision started to blur red, something caught his eyes. It made him stop a moment and hesitate.
He took a few steps forward, hesitated, then walked in to the bar.
Many shots of sake later, Neji was throughly intoxicated.
Waving his hands around in a sort of lost gesture, Neji spilled more than his drink. "I hafta kill meself, see. If ah don', ma famile 'ill dye, ya see. Buh dere's always dis chance tha' ah could kill meself and ma famile'ill dye. S'a confuddling confunnydrum!"
The drunk chunin he was splashing sake on tried to put his hand on Neji's shoulder, but ended up groping his leg instead. "I 'ear ya! Las' week, me wife 'icked me'ou' tha door fer usin' me turn ta cook dinnah asa sorta trainin'!"
Neji nodded his head sympathetically. The bartender only shook his head.
The chunin slammed down some yen, which the bartender quickly grabbed before they could slip off the counter. He rose, knocking his chair to the floor.
"Me wife es waitin' fer me, an' ah dun wanna be late fer her panache brekfest."
Neji stood up suddenly, and stumbled around until he grabbed the bottle of sake. "'Most fergo' 'bout me mishon! Tsunami sai' ah hadta lef' beeffor tha sun drowns!"
Both drunk ninja stumbled there way out of the bar and went their separate ways in the wrong directions.
Neji, sake bottle still in hand, wandered along with an unsteady gait. The village gate waited for him in the opposite direction of where he was going.
"We're off ta she tha wizarr, tha wooden wizarr of ozzy! Buh thar's no sens' cryin' ova evra mishtake, yoo jus' kee' on tryin' till your run ou' ta cake!" (1)
Trees rose around him. Owls hooted down. Neji kept singing off-key.
"I'm gla' I god brned, maybah tha' Naethar, it's sho 'lishous and mosht!" (2)
Neji continued on, oblivious to the human pair of eyes following him.
The sound of rushing water got louder and louder. Soon, Neji came upon a river. Thankfully, he wasn't as drunk as to jump in.
"Neji Hyuuga."
Neji turned around at the sound of his name, blearily trying to see what that white thing was in the trees. Before his eyes could focus around the figure, it disappeared.
"Wha-"
Something bubbled in Neji's throat, jumbling his words into incomprehensible sounds. That something clogged his airway, choking him. Neji started to bring his hands up to his throat, but his eyes drooped. As he flicked into unconsciousness, something echoed in his head.
"Essi possono dimenticare, lei non ci sarà." (3)
Tsunade leered at the paperwork currently taking up residence on her desk. She stared at it for a long while before deciding she would get back to it after a few drinks. Just as she opened the secret stash of sake, Shizune came in. She held a scroll in her hand.
Handing a flustered Tsunade the scroll, Shizune said, "This came from the team stationed in the Sound village. It appears that Neji hasn't arrived yet."
Tsunade ran her eyes over the contents of the scroll a second time, her eyebrows furrowed.
"That isn't right. Neji should be there by now. Shizune, get me Team 8."
~Later~
Tsunade looked up from her mountain of paperwork to see Shino walk in.
"Report."
"We followed Neji's scent to the river, where we found dry blood that was about fours days old. We found no evidence of a struggle. Neji's scent ended there. We searched along the river and found Neji's body snagged on a fallen tree branch."
Tsunade nodded, and bowed her head for a moment of silence.
"What did you do with the body?"
"We carried him back to the village and left him in the care of the Hyuuga clan."
"How are Kiba and Hinata taking it?"
"Not very well. Kiba is at the Hyuuga compound, comforting Hinata. Naruto is also there."
"Did you find any leads to how this might have happened?"
"Naruto said he talked to Neji last night, and that Neji mentioned he had a mission. A chunin, Ryouichi Youta, said he talked to Neji at a bar last night as well. From what I could gather, both were drunk."
Tsunade contemplated the new information and said, "Your team can have a two weeks break from missions. The Investigation Squad will take on this case. Dismissed."
Shino seemed to hesitate for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, before asking, "If I may ask, when will the funeral be held?"
Tsunade said softly, "In three days."
Shine bowed his head. "Thank you." And left.
Tsunade sighed and buried her head in the papers. She regained her composure, then opened a cabinet drawer and pulled out a file. She wrote the date on one of the papers in it, then sorted Neji's file next to his father's in another drawer.
Blood on the Knife -chapter 3
A man looked up, squinting against the glare of the sun. Loose rocks trickled off the side of the building. The wind lay still. He skirted around the wall to find a better vantage point, but try as he might, nothing appeared. he muttered a curse under his breath in italian and shook his head. Shoving a hand in a pouch at his belt, he continued on.
The farther he walked, the more skittish he became. He jumped at every little sounds, shrieked at every little trick of the eyes. Whistling became the whistle of a flying dagger. A friendly wave became the executioner's axe. A beggar in the shadows became a creeping assassin. Dropped objects became dropped bodies.
Far too soon for the man's liking, the guards disappeared and the open road lay empty in front of him.
He looked over his shoulder, heart racing. Then, all his worry washed away. No one stood between him and the city gates; no one had followed him. He was finally safe.
Smile clear across his features, he turned back to the bright road ahead.
One might think it ironic that it was then that a dagger planted itself in his throat.
A man clothed in all white walked through one of the many entrances of the guild headquarters, flipping an abnormally shaped coin in the air.
Despite having a strip of cloth over his eyes, the man confidently navigated over to a table dotted with several scrolls. He picked up one of the scrolls, and while still tossing the coin, picked up a pencil and slowly wrote. When he finished, he dropped the coin, and sketched a rough copy of both sides of the piece of currency. He played with the pencil then, unsure as to whether or not write something else down.
He left the coin and scroll, grabbed a fruit from a bowl, and sat in a chair. He picked up a book and opened it to a dog-eared page.
He reached for the blindfold over his eyes, but hesitated. He slowly pushed it to his forehead, wincing from the harsh light of the torches. Forcing himself to avoid squinting, he tried to make out the curly Italian words painstakingly written in the tome.
Finally reaching the end of a line, he trailed a finger to the start of the next paragraph, but something caught his eye.
A speck of bright green, resting on the table right where he had put the coin.
The man put the book back where he had picked it up from and stood up. He walked over and picked up the green object. Bringing it closer to his face, he could see that it was the coin he had pocketed from the traitor. A quick glance at the illustration he had provided in the scroll revealed that the markings had changed.
He pulled a chair closer to the table so he could work on this new sketch with more concentration.
A door clicked, followed by the clinking of metal weapons as someone carrying a lot of weapons entered.
"Ah, Norio! I take it your mission was a success?" A voice asked, sounding pleased.
Slight gray pupils appeared in Norio's white eyes for a moment, then disappeared. He chuckled to himself; Ezio must have procured at least five more weapons since he went out on the mission. Feeling at ease with such a competent ally nearby, Norio readjusted the piece of cloth over his eyes.
"It was. However, I found something I thought you would find interesting." Having added the finishing touches to his masterpiece, Norio rolled up the scroll and held it out in the direction of Ezio's voice.
There was a slight shuffle of cloth, then the scroll left his hand. Norio bit his lip, telling himself he should have followed the sound of metal, instead of voice. He heard Ezio unravel the scroll and waited.
Finally, he said, "The first drawings don't match."
"I drew it as I saw it with my vision, then drew it again with my eyes."
"I'll show these to Machievelli. In the meantime, I have another mission for you."
"Another?" Norio asked, grinning. "At this rate, I'll never finish my book."
"You can always bring it on missions."
"There's this small issue of my eyes being seen. Also, do you know how hard it is to read on a horse?"
"You're not meant to be seen." He ignored the comment about the horse.
"By the target or by those you send with me?"
"In this mission, neither your target nor comrade have any contempt for your eyes."
"So, who am I to kill and with whom?"
"No killing, and you shall accompany me."
Norio nodded in understanding, retrieving the small fruit he had picked up earlier. "I see, an infiltration and information gathering mission. Where?"
"One of the recruits found another Romulian shrine to the northwest. He reported seeing an individual who was clearly not happy to be there."
Norio raised an interested eyebrow as he calmly took a bite of the soft fruit.
"We have reason to believe they have your cousin."
The chunk of loquat sailed across the room.
Ezio narrowly avoided both the fruit and the rapid-fire questions.
One week prior.
His breathing came in ragged gasps. His feet slipped and slid on the tiles slick with blood; his blood. He hardly noticed the jolt of pain when he veered off and hit the wall, jamming a knife deeper in his arm.
"He's gone down the left tunnel!"
"For Romulus!"
He barely heard them over his heartbeat, and didn't bother turning to check if they were actually there. His milky white orbs searched the wall and ceiling, knowing that there must be some way of escape. For now he ran through the underground labyrinth, trailing blood behind him.
He thought of doubling back and using the trail to confuse his pursuers, but knew that it would take hours to figure out a way back and then way to sneak by the sentries the overzealous fanatics would have set. For now, he would have to settle with finding a way to the surface.
He could feel his head throbbing. Be it from an injury or from using his eyes, or even from the twisted howls from behind, he couldn't tell. He ignored it and willed his legs to run faster.
A break in the constant wall of stone and dirt appeared; a glimmer of hope. He veered off to the wall and ran right up, grabbing onto the ledge and pulling himself up with a grunt. As soon as he was out of reach of the chasing fanatics, he ran again. He still didn't have enough time to catch his breath, as the Followers of Romulus would soon find a route to him.
The path came to a stop and continued in the form of poles sticking out of the wall. They were the remains of failed construction, yet he took his chances and jumped across, landing on them for barely a second before leaping to the next.
Blood dripped to the tiles below. A grim smile appeared on his face, knowing this had two meanings: it would lead the fanatics away from him, but it also meant he was losing too much blood.
He cursed as his vision spun. His stark white and black 360 degree vision blurred and blinked away, to be replaced with a color description of the path in front of him. Voices growled and howled below and behind and echoed around him. He could only hope he found an exit before he collapsed of fatigue.
Pillars and paintings sped past him, leaving him weary and dizzy. the Followers' maniac laughter rung in his ears. The wall showed no sign of giving him any more hope.
Wait. There.
A flash of light.
He turned sharply to the right and dashed over, leaping across the gap. He hit the edge and cried out, feeling something tear. He wasted no time in climbing up and moving again, his sprint slowed to a jog.
He raced toward the light, the light that teased him now with its promises of safety.
The light broke into sky. Ruins and flowers lay all around, yet he ran by all of them without a thought. Soon after, men clothed in wolf pelts followed out, their faces painted with feral glee.
He ran to the city, hoping to lose them in its maze-like streets. As he entered, guards took up chase and innocents screamed.
Determined to lose the pursuers, he ran up a wall and swiftly climbed to the roof. Few guards followed, yet the entirety of the zealous party followed.
He bit his lip as he leaped from building to building, steadily gaining altitude in this deadly game.
Finally, he found he couldn't run any farther. The tower was one of the tallest buildings in the city, and the only way down would be to jump, which would surely be his death.
Metal clanged behind him. He turned to see armed fanatics climbing over the wall lining the tip of the tower.
The grinned at him, that grin of a predator who had finally cornered his prey. They stepped toward him. He took a step back.
"There's nowhere to run, assassino," one growled, a slightly crazed gleam in his eyes, rending him unable to be picked out from the others. They stepped forward.
He stepped backward.
"Come quietly," the fanatic continued growling, "and we might not have to poke more holes in you."
He thought quickly, his eyes darting this way and that. His eyes landed on several barrels. Turning his gaze to the fanatics, his hand reached to a pocket that hadn't been ripped.
His hands closing around a familiar weapon, he whispered, "Requiescat in pace."
Before the Follower could say anything more, he flung the dagger to a barrel, where it scraped and sparked, causing it to explode.
The fanatics almost immediately caught fire, making them forget about him for the time being.
He turned away from the tower and walked to the edge. Spreading his arms, he let himself fall. Fleeting memories flew through his mind, and he savored every one of them as long as he could. He held onto one memory the longest; that of his cousin, a younger brother if he ever had one. He came to a memory of his cousin smiling up at him, and kept that in his mind as he hit the bale of hay and fell unconscious.
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