Becoming The Mask (Trade Mission)

[Kairyuu]

Those golden eyes study the display before him, various masks set out to represent different things. There were animals, people, demons, even inanimate objects; it was quite a feat to make a mask representing a chair for instance. He was here for knowledge, knowledge was power and Hoshikata intended to become powerful after all. A notice was sent ahead already to Hasaki, and he hoped his family did well in grooming the man towards their goals already.

Hoshikata stood in his confiscated outfit, the white undershirt, with black slacks and jacket and gloves. He looked almost like the nobleman he was, missing only a hat. Perhaps he'd get a top hat. Those were all the rage these days. He was standing in the Shrine, just outside the office of the man he was here to see.

He was here to learn.

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

Seirei Hasaki
Warden Overseer​

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Not out from his office but down the hallway Hasaki strode, throwing his naginata into a sling on his back as he walked. He was cutting his appointments a bit close, but not dangerously so. Besides, it would be better to go into this particular encounter relaxed, especially if the man waiting for him was as well-informed as he had reason to believe.

"You must be Isaki Hoshikata," he said as he drew even with his office door. "I got your message earlier. Just have to make absolutely sure of your intentions before we proceed."

An interesting clan by all accounts, the Isaki were. He already had a decent idea of the man's intentions from what he had learned previously, but it was part of the process. If he was anything like what they had on the rest of his family, those intentions weren't especially noble. That wasn't anything new to him.

He unlocked the door and waved Hoshikata in, stepping over to retrieve the contents of one particular desk drawer as he did so. It was exceedingly unlikely that the other man was unaware of his dual identity, so he didn't have a problem taking out his mask in front of him.

"So you want to learn how to be a warden--what most places call an ANBU. I'm curious why you think that our skills will be useful to you?" He played with the mask in his hands as he spoke, but his tone had gone dead and blank. Even without actually wearing it it was clear he'd swapped mindsets. "You are technically considered a resident of Moon and I technically have to train you regardless of your answer but I would rather you answer."

He didn't have to indicate that he was capable of drawing his naginata extremely rapidly, even with both his hands seemingly occupied at the moment. Undoubtedly Hoshikata already knew that.

 

[Kairyuu]

He turns at the voice coming from beside him, golden eyes meeting the darker brown of the man before him. There was much to be said of this man, and his family wasted no time in finding the cracks of the village and getting into all of the nooks at crannies. The Isaki were good at rooting around for anything to aid them, a thousand years of experience aided them greatly. A smile blossoms on the Seer's face, a simple nod of agreement to the words.

”That I am. I take it you are Seirei Hasaki.” The leaders were known to his clan. And what they knew, he learned. And they knew much already. Though only here for a few years, the clan was doing all it could to integrate itself as close as it could to how things were in Mist. ”By all means, I think you'll find them fitting.”

He follows the man into the office, taking note of the surroundings with a trained eye. You could tell much about someone by how they furnished their space. A bare, spartan office usually meant someone with no social ties, a recluse devoted solely to work. A mess of everything spoke of flighty fancies, someone on the extreme opposite of the spectrum. Hasaki was a good median, the man likely wanted people to think he didn't care for his job, but the clues that he did were all over the place.

And then he removes the mask. That was what he needed, the final proof to lay the puzzle pieces in place. ”I've grown rusty. Back in Mist, I was a member of several groups. As did all, I began in the main branch, and I think I made a good showing of myself. I was recruited into the ANBU as a chuunin, and quickly proved myself in that position. At the behest of my family and village, I switched to the medical field to gain as much variety of skills as I could.”

He smiles, forming a few minor seals until a mask appeared in his own hands. It was old, no doubt. A pure, porcelain white in the shape of a beautiful man with pursed lips. Red markings go from the temple to the cheek, wrapping the eye slot in a rogue circle as they go. At the end they flower off. He sets the mask on the other's desk.

”I've been perfecting my abilities as a medic these past years. Through my tenure as Mizukage I practiced, through the past years wandering the world I've practiced. I think I am as good as I shall be at that art. But my skills in the field stealth and policing have suffered. I think a refresher would help there. Something to put me back on track.” His hand turns the mask slightly to it appeared to be facing Hasaki himself.

”I wish to do this to become the best I can. Is there no higher calling than attempting to attain perfection?”

 

[Shiruko Makoto]

"The one and only," Hasaki said flippantly. "As far as I know. Please report any impostors to me if you find them."

He studied Hoshikata intently. Neither of the new clans to Moon's shores seemed to fit the mold of a stereotypical noble, and the clan leader of the Isaki definitely didn't. Despite his dress, he most definitely wasn't someone useful only for his connections, though he clearly had those as well. That he was trained extensively and had previously been Mizukage was something Hasaki already knew, but the extent of his other background and skills he had not. Still, he just nodded along to it all, not giving away surprise at any of it.

He did not reach for the mask, but instead examined it, leaning over slightly to do so. It would not be wise to touch another's mask, even if it were offered.

"It's good that you have past experience. It means I don't have to start from the beginning." He had been slightly worried of that, but it was unlikely Hoshikata would have too much difficulty catching up--unless Mist's training had been substandard, which seemed unlikely.

Far more likely they had angered something far above their power.

"Honing one's blade at their chosen craft is indeed a worthy goal," he said after a moment of apparent deliberation. "Very well, since stealth is one of your primary aims, I have a mission ready for you."

He flipped through the files stacked to one side, then pulled one out and slid it over.

"Inside, you'll find info and an artist's rendering of someone we believe has been engaged in blackmarket deals near the port." Hasaki did not bother adding that it was just because this particular man wasn't sanctioned they wanted him. "He may be connected to smugglers. Your mission is to shadow him, determine if he is connected to any bigger fish by obtaining descriptions of anyone he is working with, and to apprehend him for questioning."

Data File
Suspect Name: Unknown, alias 'Grizzly Bear'
Crime: Blackmarket Trading, Dealing With Smugglers
Description: Short, stocky, greasy black hair with a scar across his forehead. Frequently seen wearing a heavy brown coat.
Suspected Powers: May have the Sharingan; caution advised.

"Any questions, or do you want to get started?"

 

[Kairyuu]

The man did not touch his mask. Perhaps superstitious then. Or courteous. Hoshikata smiles and forms the same seals, the mask vanishing once more. So far it was all going quite well. The man was letting him in, which was a plus. He looks down at the data file, reaching up to stroke his chin for a moment as he eyes the information on it. Sparse, but enough to get his job done. He was to find out anything he could before taking the man in.

Hoshikata looks up at Hasaki. ”This is plenty. I'll be back when I have him.” And with that, he heads to the new Isaki manor. It would not do for a noble in a three piece suit to show up looking for all the world like what he was. Instead he summons the beauticians for a physical altering of his looks. His skin was too dark to cover up entirely, so instead he forces the poor women to dirty his features. Scarring is easy enough to add also.

Then he takes the worst outfit he can find, giving the kid wearing it washing the windows his own fine apparel in return. Over this ratty, holy getup he puts a threadbare woolen cloak and grabs a knotted, misshapen stick. Soon a figure with a hood up comes stumbling towards the docks area. A quick stop at the bar and he not only weaves, but he smells to high heaven of alcohol. Now to find this Grizzly Bear...