Fourteen Years Old
Makoto wasn't quite the youngest full Warden ever, but he sure as hell was south of the average age. Kanashimi had told him not to get a swelled head over it, but honestly? This felt like a pretty good accomplishment. Saito hadn't even wanted him to take the rank-up exam yet, but he'd sure proved he deserved to.
To the point he was being assigned an actual mission barely a week out of it. Normally, that took longer. They had to have seen something in him, right? Right. He had some kind of talent (or, equally likely, intelligence) that they considered important for this particular mission.
And no one on his team would dare call him the annoying rookie, not with his family. They might be thinking it, but he didn't really care about that.
"...so we'll be tailing him from the docks," the man debriefing them finished. Makoto hadn't bothered to remember his name, since he wouldn't be on the mission with them. Anyway, if it was important he'd hear it later. "Any questions?"
One of the others, a tough-looking twenty-something called Rokuro, spoke up. "How do we know he's not going through the pirates for the shit he doesn't want us to see?"
"Either way he has to go to the docks," one of the others, a silver-haired woman named Shinju said, idly twirling a kunai on one finger. "It's not like there's anywhere else to park a boat around here, and it isn't as if he can manage to get any type of illicit cargo overland from the other coast." There was a distinct tone of disdain there, like she felt Rokuro wasn't worth her time.
The man laughed, seemingly unbothered, and scratched his chin. "Oh, right. Yeah, I knew that."
The other teammate, an older teenage girl--eighteen or so?--just smirked and shook her head, dark pink ponytail bouncing as she did. He thought her name was Hana or something else flowery.
"Anything else?" Their superior glanced at him, then at Hana, neither of whom said anything. "All right. Get out there, and see what's going on."
The four of them left the briefing area, walking quietly to the preparation area. Several times, Rokuro would cast a glance at one of them and then make like he wanted to say something, but the persistent sneer on Shinju's face stopped him.
Finally, they made it to the Warden's prep area, or rather one of several. It was a small room off the second hallway of the Wardens' training area, tables of equipment set out for those who did not have their own weapons or who needed arrows or bolts restocked and could not afford to do so themselves. Not that anyone on a Warden's salary should have been unable to afford ammunition, but some people were cheap.
Makoto did not need any of that, nor any of the other equipment either, given that his family were the ones who made half of it in the first place. Instead he pulled out and checked his parasol. He'd recently given it a tune-up, enhancing the fabric between the titanium spokes and threading it with metal fibers. They were woven in with chakra, something that had taken him multiple several-hour sessions to learn and later perfect. It was an unconventional weapon, but one he'd trained himself extensively in.
His family was pretty good at the unconventional weapons thing, too.
There was even a rapier embedded in the hilt that he could draw if he needed such a thing at any point. He might not be the best blacksmith in the family, but he'd been able to work in the forges since it was deemed safe for him to do so. He would likely have to do more over the years to perfect his parasol, but for now, it would more than suffice.
Especially in a mission that likely wouldn't involve a lot of combat. It had the advantage, here, of not appearing at first glance to be a weapon at all.
Satisfied everything was in working order, he turned back to the rest of the team, who were putting the finishing touches on their gear. He'd packed his that morning, at home. He really didn't want to be the one holding up the mission, so he had prepared himself not to be.
Well. It didn't look like he would be the one who was, anyway.
Hana was giving Rokuro a look, and mimed something with her hands. Shinju snorted, and nodded.
Apparently seeing no other recourse, Rokuro turned to Makoto and gave him a lopsided grin. "Hey, Kyou. First full mission, right?"
He scowled, gratified to see the smile falter. The other Wardens called him that because there wasn't an easy way to make a nickname off his name, and everyone in Moon knew his family's old clan name. But he'd always disliked it, and there was no point in hiding that fact. Especially when he wasn't any worse or less useful than any of them.
Especially that guy, apparently.
"Not really," he said, sheathing his parasol. "I've been on full missions before. Simply with more assistance."
"It's a bit different with this," Shinju said, and Hana nodded. "Not that this should be anything but a cakewalk--I've heard of this guy before, and he's small fry. Hana did the intel op that led us to him a couple weeks back."
Hana gave a jerky nod, a light smile on her face. Now that he was looking for it, he could see scarring on her throat. So she wasn't just quiet by choice, then.
"I don't ever underestimate anyone," Makoto said delicately. "But appreciated all the same."
No point ticking off the apparently competent people.
They headed down to the docks, ghosting through the lesser-traveled alleys and back pathways. Makoto had done stakeout duty before, and it was never particularly interesting. With a team of four, they could trade off where they were watching to avoid getting bored, at least. Or maybe not; it would be bad to miss something.
They reached the docks about an hour after lunch, and settled in to wait.
Most people thought all shady business on the docks went down extremely early in the morning, or after dark. This was not so, at least in Moon, as the Wardens well knew. Quite a few smugglers and thieves attempted to disguise their illicit goods trafficking with the hectic nature of the docks in full daylight on common shipping days. This had the tendency to backfire sometimes, as Moon's dock officials were very efficient, but it was a sight easier to pull off than doing anything after dark. There were always patrols in the hours when no one other than specially licensed boats were allowed to dock.
That didn't mean people didn't try it, of course, so they might be there a long time. But since they were after a specific person and not just anyone shady, they would be there until they saw him.
Which, as it turned out, was quite a while.
The main use the girls seemed to make of Rokuro was sending him out for food. As the youngest, this would normally fall to Makoto, but as his file indicated he had heightened senses and sharp eyes, not to mention that he was much smaller and less obvious, they wanted to keep him with them. Certainly most of his extra senses pertained to chakra, but he was assuredly better at it than the other man, by the way the others acted.
Either way, there was no way for a swordsman like that to contribute until they actually had eyes on the target. So, barely grumbling, he consented to be sent out on several runs for food and drinks--first a late lunch, then power bars for the afternoon, then boxed noodles for dinner.
The sun had long set and the docks traffic quieted to the end of day final stragglers, consisting mostly of the supply shipments from the southern farmlands. Shinju had pulled out a dark blue bandanna when the sun started setting and covered her hair with it, and Makoto had drawn the hood of his own jacket up over his head. Hana's dark pink hair and Rokuro's short black did not catch the setting sun and moonlight in the same way silver did, but the two of them had to be careful when on stealth duty,
Still, none of them so much as grumbled. Makoto's muscles ached from the tension of being ready to move yet not being able to do so for hours, but he wasn't going to mess this up.
Finally, Hana sat up as if a bolt of lightning had struck her, and flipped a knife out of her vest to point with. All of them silently looked where she pointed, to see a boat coming in. It was drifting, no sound of engines running, and seemed to have been deliberately covered with mud and dust in places so it did not reflect light well. As they watched, one of the dock guards stepped out, glanced around nervously, and waved it in.
"Bribe or blackmail, that's the question," Shinju murmured, voice barely a whisper. "Can't say as it's a surprise they have someone on the inside."
Hana made a single quiet clicking sound with her tongue. Makoto tilted his head, considering.
"Bribe, or on the payroll, I agree." Translating Hana's speech substitutions wasn't very difficult. "He seems willing enough."
"I'll mark him down then, and we can let someone else pay him a visit." Shinju flicked a notepad out of her inner pocket and scribbled a basic description of the guard down, along with his shift time. "Now...aha. Makoto, you have the best eyes here. Is that our man?"
There was a figure climbing down the ladder on the side of the boat, who briefly conferred with the guard. Both of them nodded, then the figure from the boat waved back up at the boat, and a ramp descended.
"That's him," Makoto confirmed, barely squinting. The moon meant business tonight; it wasn't hard for him to match that man to the picture they'd seen earlier. "Do we radio it in now, or tail him?"
"Tail him," Shinju decided. "We want to bust whatever ring he's trafficking to, not just him."
The rest of them nodded silently, though Rokuro shifted uneasily.
What is his problem, even, Makoto thought irritably. I'm fourteen and I know how to sit still; he's nearly twice my age.
They watched as the merchant unloaded his cargo with the help of three workers on the boat, then loaded it onto a rolling dolly. These were often used to ship legitimate goods, but something about those crates made him uneasy. The man seemed to keep checking them, to make sure they were all right. Finally he seemed reassured enough and handed a wad of bills to the guard, then smaller ones to each of the workers, before proceeding on alone, rolling his cargo down the docks to a bicycle which he swiftly attached it to and mounted.
The merchant was rather quick on a bike, and they waited for him to exit the dock area before following him. Fast ona bike or no, a ninja was much faster. He pedaled and they followed through the warehouse district, and then toward the north-central area of the city. Makoto's senses itched; this was 'neutral' territory, not fully controlled by either the Shrine or his family and their allies. This was where the smugglers who bypassed the warehouse district tended to go, he knew, and also explained why the man was doing this after dark.
They landed on rooftops around the alleyway that the man stopped in, Makoto and Rokuro on one side, Hana and Shinju on the other. He could see the grim set of Hana's expression and Shinju's scowl even across the alley thanks to the bright moonlight.
The merchant knocked in an apparent passcode to one of the wooden doorways bordering the alley. After a moment, a hole near the top opened and muted words were exchanged. The door clicked open, and the four of them moved.
Hana and Shinju touched the ground a bare second before he did, Hana already spinning knives out into her hands. They were dull and serrated, not reflecting the moonlight at all, especially compared to Shinju's polished kunai and Makoto's silver-lined parasol. And Rokuro's sword, no doubt, though he was in the back.
The merchant darted inside and a man inside stepped out, but Shinju jumped at him, flinging several kunai at the man. He attempted to dodge, but two of the knives shredded his sleeve and a third narrowly missed his side anyway. Now he was off-guard, that would be the perfect time for Rokuro to take him out so that Makoto and Hana, both smaller than the others, could easily duck around him and pursue while tracking everyone on the inside.
Except their swordsman wasn't attacking.
Makoto glanced backwards, and so was just in time to bring his parasol up to block a glancing blow from a heavy blade. Rokuro's expression was set, not friendly any longer.
What the...
"Shinju!" he managed to call. "Move!"
Her head whipped around and she narrowly dodged another swing of the blade. The man in the doorway was laughing.
"Nice, Ro," the man in the door said. "C'mon in, I'll get you your cut. We won't be here tomorrow anyway, thanks for the alert, so handling these three doesn't matter."
It didn't take much to translate. Our lives aren't worth shit if we kill three Wardens.
"Right then," Rokuro said after a moment, giving Shinju a look of contempt. "Was hoping for a few swings at the bitch, but I can wait."
"Fucking traitor," Shinju spat. "How much they pay you, huh?"
"More than the Wardens do," he said, unruffled. "But this isn't about the money. Don't get me wrong, the money's great, but this is about a lot more than that."
Hana lifted one of her knives and drew it across the air in front of her throat.
"Yeah, I'll kill you too, sweetie," Rokuro said, almost good-naturedly. "You'd be dead instead of mute if it weren't for me, but go on. Chalk this one up as a loss and get out of here."
Makoto's hands clenched around the hilt of his parasol, but he did not move a muscle. What could he even do? They were in close quarters, and neither of the others seemed like they wanted to push it.
Rokuro seemed to notice none of them were moving, then nodded and backed into the building. The man in the door chuckled, gave the three of them a mock salute, and slammed the door.
The adrenaline went out of all three of them at once. Hana slumped against the wall, and Shinju pulled her bandanna off, scowling.
Makoto broke the silence a few moments later. "Fuck."
Makoto wasn't quite the youngest full Warden ever, but he sure as hell was south of the average age. Kanashimi had told him not to get a swelled head over it, but honestly? This felt like a pretty good accomplishment. Saito hadn't even wanted him to take the rank-up exam yet, but he'd sure proved he deserved to.
To the point he was being assigned an actual mission barely a week out of it. Normally, that took longer. They had to have seen something in him, right? Right. He had some kind of talent (or, equally likely, intelligence) that they considered important for this particular mission.
And no one on his team would dare call him the annoying rookie, not with his family. They might be thinking it, but he didn't really care about that.
"...so we'll be tailing him from the docks," the man debriefing them finished. Makoto hadn't bothered to remember his name, since he wouldn't be on the mission with them. Anyway, if it was important he'd hear it later. "Any questions?"
One of the others, a tough-looking twenty-something called Rokuro, spoke up. "How do we know he's not going through the pirates for the shit he doesn't want us to see?"
"Either way he has to go to the docks," one of the others, a silver-haired woman named Shinju said, idly twirling a kunai on one finger. "It's not like there's anywhere else to park a boat around here, and it isn't as if he can manage to get any type of illicit cargo overland from the other coast." There was a distinct tone of disdain there, like she felt Rokuro wasn't worth her time.
The man laughed, seemingly unbothered, and scratched his chin. "Oh, right. Yeah, I knew that."
The other teammate, an older teenage girl--eighteen or so?--just smirked and shook her head, dark pink ponytail bouncing as she did. He thought her name was Hana or something else flowery.
"Anything else?" Their superior glanced at him, then at Hana, neither of whom said anything. "All right. Get out there, and see what's going on."
The four of them left the briefing area, walking quietly to the preparation area. Several times, Rokuro would cast a glance at one of them and then make like he wanted to say something, but the persistent sneer on Shinju's face stopped him.
Finally, they made it to the Warden's prep area, or rather one of several. It was a small room off the second hallway of the Wardens' training area, tables of equipment set out for those who did not have their own weapons or who needed arrows or bolts restocked and could not afford to do so themselves. Not that anyone on a Warden's salary should have been unable to afford ammunition, but some people were cheap.
Makoto did not need any of that, nor any of the other equipment either, given that his family were the ones who made half of it in the first place. Instead he pulled out and checked his parasol. He'd recently given it a tune-up, enhancing the fabric between the titanium spokes and threading it with metal fibers. They were woven in with chakra, something that had taken him multiple several-hour sessions to learn and later perfect. It was an unconventional weapon, but one he'd trained himself extensively in.
His family was pretty good at the unconventional weapons thing, too.
There was even a rapier embedded in the hilt that he could draw if he needed such a thing at any point. He might not be the best blacksmith in the family, but he'd been able to work in the forges since it was deemed safe for him to do so. He would likely have to do more over the years to perfect his parasol, but for now, it would more than suffice.
Especially in a mission that likely wouldn't involve a lot of combat. It had the advantage, here, of not appearing at first glance to be a weapon at all.
Satisfied everything was in working order, he turned back to the rest of the team, who were putting the finishing touches on their gear. He'd packed his that morning, at home. He really didn't want to be the one holding up the mission, so he had prepared himself not to be.
Well. It didn't look like he would be the one who was, anyway.
Hana was giving Rokuro a look, and mimed something with her hands. Shinju snorted, and nodded.
Apparently seeing no other recourse, Rokuro turned to Makoto and gave him a lopsided grin. "Hey, Kyou. First full mission, right?"
He scowled, gratified to see the smile falter. The other Wardens called him that because there wasn't an easy way to make a nickname off his name, and everyone in Moon knew his family's old clan name. But he'd always disliked it, and there was no point in hiding that fact. Especially when he wasn't any worse or less useful than any of them.
Especially that guy, apparently.
"Not really," he said, sheathing his parasol. "I've been on full missions before. Simply with more assistance."
"It's a bit different with this," Shinju said, and Hana nodded. "Not that this should be anything but a cakewalk--I've heard of this guy before, and he's small fry. Hana did the intel op that led us to him a couple weeks back."
Hana gave a jerky nod, a light smile on her face. Now that he was looking for it, he could see scarring on her throat. So she wasn't just quiet by choice, then.
"I don't ever underestimate anyone," Makoto said delicately. "But appreciated all the same."
No point ticking off the apparently competent people.
They headed down to the docks, ghosting through the lesser-traveled alleys and back pathways. Makoto had done stakeout duty before, and it was never particularly interesting. With a team of four, they could trade off where they were watching to avoid getting bored, at least. Or maybe not; it would be bad to miss something.
They reached the docks about an hour after lunch, and settled in to wait.
Most people thought all shady business on the docks went down extremely early in the morning, or after dark. This was not so, at least in Moon, as the Wardens well knew. Quite a few smugglers and thieves attempted to disguise their illicit goods trafficking with the hectic nature of the docks in full daylight on common shipping days. This had the tendency to backfire sometimes, as Moon's dock officials were very efficient, but it was a sight easier to pull off than doing anything after dark. There were always patrols in the hours when no one other than specially licensed boats were allowed to dock.
That didn't mean people didn't try it, of course, so they might be there a long time. But since they were after a specific person and not just anyone shady, they would be there until they saw him.
Which, as it turned out, was quite a while.
The main use the girls seemed to make of Rokuro was sending him out for food. As the youngest, this would normally fall to Makoto, but as his file indicated he had heightened senses and sharp eyes, not to mention that he was much smaller and less obvious, they wanted to keep him with them. Certainly most of his extra senses pertained to chakra, but he was assuredly better at it than the other man, by the way the others acted.
Either way, there was no way for a swordsman like that to contribute until they actually had eyes on the target. So, barely grumbling, he consented to be sent out on several runs for food and drinks--first a late lunch, then power bars for the afternoon, then boxed noodles for dinner.
The sun had long set and the docks traffic quieted to the end of day final stragglers, consisting mostly of the supply shipments from the southern farmlands. Shinju had pulled out a dark blue bandanna when the sun started setting and covered her hair with it, and Makoto had drawn the hood of his own jacket up over his head. Hana's dark pink hair and Rokuro's short black did not catch the setting sun and moonlight in the same way silver did, but the two of them had to be careful when on stealth duty,
Still, none of them so much as grumbled. Makoto's muscles ached from the tension of being ready to move yet not being able to do so for hours, but he wasn't going to mess this up.
Finally, Hana sat up as if a bolt of lightning had struck her, and flipped a knife out of her vest to point with. All of them silently looked where she pointed, to see a boat coming in. It was drifting, no sound of engines running, and seemed to have been deliberately covered with mud and dust in places so it did not reflect light well. As they watched, one of the dock guards stepped out, glanced around nervously, and waved it in.
"Bribe or blackmail, that's the question," Shinju murmured, voice barely a whisper. "Can't say as it's a surprise they have someone on the inside."
Hana made a single quiet clicking sound with her tongue. Makoto tilted his head, considering.
"Bribe, or on the payroll, I agree." Translating Hana's speech substitutions wasn't very difficult. "He seems willing enough."
"I'll mark him down then, and we can let someone else pay him a visit." Shinju flicked a notepad out of her inner pocket and scribbled a basic description of the guard down, along with his shift time. "Now...aha. Makoto, you have the best eyes here. Is that our man?"
There was a figure climbing down the ladder on the side of the boat, who briefly conferred with the guard. Both of them nodded, then the figure from the boat waved back up at the boat, and a ramp descended.
"That's him," Makoto confirmed, barely squinting. The moon meant business tonight; it wasn't hard for him to match that man to the picture they'd seen earlier. "Do we radio it in now, or tail him?"
"Tail him," Shinju decided. "We want to bust whatever ring he's trafficking to, not just him."
The rest of them nodded silently, though Rokuro shifted uneasily.
What is his problem, even, Makoto thought irritably. I'm fourteen and I know how to sit still; he's nearly twice my age.
They watched as the merchant unloaded his cargo with the help of three workers on the boat, then loaded it onto a rolling dolly. These were often used to ship legitimate goods, but something about those crates made him uneasy. The man seemed to keep checking them, to make sure they were all right. Finally he seemed reassured enough and handed a wad of bills to the guard, then smaller ones to each of the workers, before proceeding on alone, rolling his cargo down the docks to a bicycle which he swiftly attached it to and mounted.
The merchant was rather quick on a bike, and they waited for him to exit the dock area before following him. Fast ona bike or no, a ninja was much faster. He pedaled and they followed through the warehouse district, and then toward the north-central area of the city. Makoto's senses itched; this was 'neutral' territory, not fully controlled by either the Shrine or his family and their allies. This was where the smugglers who bypassed the warehouse district tended to go, he knew, and also explained why the man was doing this after dark.
They landed on rooftops around the alleyway that the man stopped in, Makoto and Rokuro on one side, Hana and Shinju on the other. He could see the grim set of Hana's expression and Shinju's scowl even across the alley thanks to the bright moonlight.
The merchant knocked in an apparent passcode to one of the wooden doorways bordering the alley. After a moment, a hole near the top opened and muted words were exchanged. The door clicked open, and the four of them moved.
Hana and Shinju touched the ground a bare second before he did, Hana already spinning knives out into her hands. They were dull and serrated, not reflecting the moonlight at all, especially compared to Shinju's polished kunai and Makoto's silver-lined parasol. And Rokuro's sword, no doubt, though he was in the back.
The merchant darted inside and a man inside stepped out, but Shinju jumped at him, flinging several kunai at the man. He attempted to dodge, but two of the knives shredded his sleeve and a third narrowly missed his side anyway. Now he was off-guard, that would be the perfect time for Rokuro to take him out so that Makoto and Hana, both smaller than the others, could easily duck around him and pursue while tracking everyone on the inside.
Except their swordsman wasn't attacking.
Makoto glanced backwards, and so was just in time to bring his parasol up to block a glancing blow from a heavy blade. Rokuro's expression was set, not friendly any longer.
What the...
"Shinju!" he managed to call. "Move!"
Her head whipped around and she narrowly dodged another swing of the blade. The man in the doorway was laughing.
"Nice, Ro," the man in the door said. "C'mon in, I'll get you your cut. We won't be here tomorrow anyway, thanks for the alert, so handling these three doesn't matter."
It didn't take much to translate. Our lives aren't worth shit if we kill three Wardens.
"Right then," Rokuro said after a moment, giving Shinju a look of contempt. "Was hoping for a few swings at the bitch, but I can wait."
"Fucking traitor," Shinju spat. "How much they pay you, huh?"
"More than the Wardens do," he said, unruffled. "But this isn't about the money. Don't get me wrong, the money's great, but this is about a lot more than that."
Hana lifted one of her knives and drew it across the air in front of her throat.
"Yeah, I'll kill you too, sweetie," Rokuro said, almost good-naturedly. "You'd be dead instead of mute if it weren't for me, but go on. Chalk this one up as a loss and get out of here."
Makoto's hands clenched around the hilt of his parasol, but he did not move a muscle. What could he even do? They were in close quarters, and neither of the others seemed like they wanted to push it.
Rokuro seemed to notice none of them were moving, then nodded and backed into the building. The man in the door chuckled, gave the three of them a mock salute, and slammed the door.
The adrenaline went out of all three of them at once. Hana slumped against the wall, and Shinju pulled her bandanna off, scowling.
Makoto broke the silence a few moments later. "Fuck."