In Kuirsu's forty years of service to Sunagakure, he had been a part of numerous atrocities, cleaned up after dozens of others, and seen the worst the world has to offer. Shinobi are often said to have shorter-than-average lifespans compared to the average civilian due to the dangerous line of work they partake in, but the mental wear and tear was a factor some rarely ever considered since many died before it set in. Being past the expected age, the Captain had sustained his fair share of injuries, physical and mental, and with each new tragedy, it marred his soul further. Many would eventually have a breaking point, living in the worst filth Wind Country could dredge up, but it only strengthened his resolve and he would only allow himself to crumble after his mission had been fulfilled.
The people of Sunagakure had just lived through a terrible ordeal and had lost faith in those duty bound to protect them and it would take time to regain that trust. Kurisu would restore that, but first they had to stabilize their current surroundings. On short-radio he heard the call for a wounded young girl and he was quick to move on it. When he arrived she had already been taken to the hospital, but the trail of blood had led him straight to the crime scene where a good samaritan stood outside the door and stopped any curious onlookers from going in. Flashing his ANBU mask like it was a badge of authority, he was granted access to the apartment and set upon the grisly scene from which the girl had survived.
Blood and death were not new to him, nor was an attack against someone so young, but it was the time in which it occurred that mattered. If the children were not safe, could not find comfort in their own homes, then who was truly safe from whatever evils were let into the village? Handseals breathed light into the entirety of the apartment, orbs of pure glowing chakra fanning out and illuminating every dark corner they could find. A mental pen was taking notes, writing lines upon lines of information down and dedicating them to memory. Gloved hands investigated the fallen strewn throughout the apartment, observing wounds, bruises and patterns of movements, painting the attack from the assailant like a frame-by-frame movie. The family had been transplants or world travelers who had many items that were uncommon for Wind Country; or they had spent a lot of money importing them.
A picture frame caught his eye and he instantly recognized the parents, the two dead in the abode, and the girl...one of his students. While she hadn't been back into one of his classes, reports had been passed around that showed her performing poorly in her schedule.
Handfuls of other dark garbed shinobi would show-up and would help him process the scene, bagging, tagging, and recording all the evidence. They even stumbled upon the remains of what appeared to be the arm of the female who had been rushed to the hospital. Once the last body had been moved out, Kurisu left standing orders to lock the apartment and keep it under watch in case anyone came snooping around. To torture a girl was heinous in itself and there had to be purpose. Whatever it was, Kurisu would get to the bottom of it, but first he had to see to the girl; someone whose name he still hadn't acquired.
Since he had been back, the hospital had become a frequent stomping ground, the staff starting to recognized the dark haired visage and greeting him with a reserved smile. They didn't give him any trouble and upon inquiry was pointed to the room with their most recent admission. They had done well to chase away any others who had attempted to see her. Given the recent attempt on her life there was no way of knowing if any others were additional assailants here to finish the job. Dressed in his usual sharp attire, the blacks slacks, white long-sleeved shirt with cufflinks, polished boots, and a dark grey long coat that was left open left him with the air of stone cold detective, but the katana strapped to his waist said otherwise.
When he arrived at the room, he slipped inside quietly and sat down in the chair adjacent to the bed, waiting for the girl to come to, however long that would take. Given her recent traumas and any amount of drugs they might have pumped into her system, it could take awhile.
[mft]
The people of Sunagakure had just lived through a terrible ordeal and had lost faith in those duty bound to protect them and it would take time to regain that trust. Kurisu would restore that, but first they had to stabilize their current surroundings. On short-radio he heard the call for a wounded young girl and he was quick to move on it. When he arrived she had already been taken to the hospital, but the trail of blood had led him straight to the crime scene where a good samaritan stood outside the door and stopped any curious onlookers from going in. Flashing his ANBU mask like it was a badge of authority, he was granted access to the apartment and set upon the grisly scene from which the girl had survived.
Blood and death were not new to him, nor was an attack against someone so young, but it was the time in which it occurred that mattered. If the children were not safe, could not find comfort in their own homes, then who was truly safe from whatever evils were let into the village? Handseals breathed light into the entirety of the apartment, orbs of pure glowing chakra fanning out and illuminating every dark corner they could find. A mental pen was taking notes, writing lines upon lines of information down and dedicating them to memory. Gloved hands investigated the fallen strewn throughout the apartment, observing wounds, bruises and patterns of movements, painting the attack from the assailant like a frame-by-frame movie. The family had been transplants or world travelers who had many items that were uncommon for Wind Country; or they had spent a lot of money importing them.
A picture frame caught his eye and he instantly recognized the parents, the two dead in the abode, and the girl...one of his students. While she hadn't been back into one of his classes, reports had been passed around that showed her performing poorly in her schedule.
Handfuls of other dark garbed shinobi would show-up and would help him process the scene, bagging, tagging, and recording all the evidence. They even stumbled upon the remains of what appeared to be the arm of the female who had been rushed to the hospital. Once the last body had been moved out, Kurisu left standing orders to lock the apartment and keep it under watch in case anyone came snooping around. To torture a girl was heinous in itself and there had to be purpose. Whatever it was, Kurisu would get to the bottom of it, but first he had to see to the girl; someone whose name he still hadn't acquired.
Since he had been back, the hospital had become a frequent stomping ground, the staff starting to recognized the dark haired visage and greeting him with a reserved smile. They didn't give him any trouble and upon inquiry was pointed to the room with their most recent admission. They had done well to chase away any others who had attempted to see her. Given the recent attempt on her life there was no way of knowing if any others were additional assailants here to finish the job. Dressed in his usual sharp attire, the blacks slacks, white long-sleeved shirt with cufflinks, polished boots, and a dark grey long coat that was left open left him with the air of stone cold detective, but the katana strapped to his waist said otherwise.
When he arrived at the room, he slipped inside quietly and sat down in the chair adjacent to the bed, waiting for the girl to come to, however long that would take. Given her recent traumas and any amount of drugs they might have pumped into her system, it could take awhile.
[mft]
