Hunt Me-

[Forsaken]

They come into my territory once more, and again I am forced to hide. Once more, I'm demanded by circumstance to conceal myself within these forests I know so well. Evidence of my camp had been discovered by a pair of hounds, and in no time, my home has been filled with low grade hunters. There are five of them, and thusly, five that must be taken care of before I am forced once more to flee. I cannot allow anyone to know where I am, lest my presence trigger my own untimely demise. I fear death not, but it is too early, too soon. My task remains unfinished and thusly, I cannot afford to die yet. The obvious traps I laid have lulled my opponents into a sense of false security, and this complacency will be their death. Once more I write by the light of the moon, the hour grows late, and the team is getting tired, making foolish mistakes. I lay down my pen, for now. I will pen my vengence upon completion of the act.

The tsumari kissed his journal, replacing the clasp and sliding it into a pouch under his shirt and sword. The blade made no sound as it was released from it's sheathe, nor did the shinobi nin make even the vaguest hint of noise as he dropped to the ground. The underbrush was his sanctum, and he lay there patiently awaiting his first target. His senses tuned perfectly to his surroundings, it came as no surprise when the first "snap” rang out. These were no jounnin, possibly not even gennin. Their movements were easily traced, they were awkward, and though they weren't overtly loud, their presence was still noted. His first target had arrived.

The light of the moon was all the illumination Yuukuru needed, and he could plainly see the figure in front of him. Concealed by the brush, the tsumari was all but invisible. Pulling a small rock from the ground, he flung it, connecting with a tree behind the stalking gennin. Her attention snapped over, staring hard at the region the sound echoed. Her sudden shift in attention distracted her from his movements, and he was allowed to crawl from the brush without being noticed. He came inches away from her, briefly touching her leg with his drawn blade before disappearing into the trees. He smiled viciously, deciding to toy with her for a while.

Her composure was returning, her breathing still rapid and shallow, but regulating as she shook her head left to right searching for the specter that had made contact with her. To her credit, she remained quiet, leaping into the tree not three feet from where he stood perched. He snapped his fingers, catching her attention. Her eyes widened, as did the tsumari's smile.

"You don't want to be here.” He said slowly, his voice barely audible.

The young girl didn't seem to be interested in small talk, a fact made apparent by the pair of shuriken that whistled by his head. He dropped down, hurling a stone into the tree where the girl was. It hit nothing but air, and the only forewarning he received of the attack behind him was the dull thud of someone returning to earth. He fell to his back, watching the punch fly over his head. Without hesitation, Yuukuru threw his weight backwards, rolling his momentum to plant his feet against the shoulders of the girl, knocking her down. It was easy from there for him to continue backwards driving his elbow into her sternum. He heard a gasp as the air was forced from her lungs, and rolled off. Delivering a sharp kick to the side of her head, the girl was incapacitated for now. He quickly searched her pockets, finding a spool of shinobi wire by fortune alone, as well as a few kunai.

In a few moments, he had her bound tightly and pinned to the trunk of a tree. He could kill her, take from her her very existence. Something stayed his hand, the sword hovering mere millimeters from the major arteries in her neck. Was it compassion? Mercy?

He shook his head slowly, removing the village amulet from her head and bending it against the trunk. He dug it deeply into the bark next to her head. I could have killed you. He whispered lightly nicking her cheek. A soft sigh fell from his lips, and he ran off. He knew the smell of the blood would draw the hounds, and he didn't want to be there quite yet. The ninja wire spool now strapped to his hip would come in handy, and the sharp yelp that followed brought another faint smile to his face. The hound had found the girl, as well as the tension trap. By no means was the trap complicated, he had merely bent a low-laying branch backwards that had been studded with shuriken, left secured by a tension line that ran invisibly in front of the unconscious form. While he somewhat regretted the dog's injury, it had to happen. If he were found, if he were captured, the only thing that would come of it would be his own death. Just like his family. He had to keep that in his mind, he had to keep the wound open or run the risk of losing his will to fight. Just as he had faltered with the girl. He shook his head and ran off once more, this time, his hand was not on his blade. It clutched a small scrap of cloth. For tonight, this battle was over.

Or was it?