Hired Muscle

D-rank: Hired Muscle:

Businesses came and went from Konohagakure’s shopping district like the tides that lapped at Fire Country’s eastern shores. In the rising water of a good economy, each storefront played host to an eager salesman hoping to part all-too-willing passersby from their hard-earned ryo. Meanwhile, as the economy ebbed and crowds grew reluctant to part with what little money they had, storefronts stood empty, like boarded-up gaps in a once vibrant smile. In these hard times, however, several truly savvy men and women were able to guide their businesses through adversity and endure—Naoki Hashimoto was one such man.

Beyond his obvious business savvy, Naoki had built quite a reputation for himself over his 65 years of life. He was a loving husband, father of five, and uniquely gifted in calligraphy. Oh, and he hated shinobi. In his younger years, the love of his life, a promising young kunoichi, was sent on a mission to the borders. In theory, the mission was supposed to be a risk-free patrol of the relatively quiet border with Rice Country. However, she never returned, and since that day Naoki vowed to never associate with the shinobi world.

Unfortunately, Naoki was also stubborn. The past few weeks had seen reports of vandalism and attempted extortion, all happening within the walls of Konohagakure. Despite his plight and the offers of assistance from the village, Naoki could not bring himself to accept the help of shinobi once again. Instead, he put out word that he would be recruiting samurai to guard his shop, something his considerable wealth afforded him.

It seemed that the village leaders, however, had an interest in ensuring the job got done right. Samurai, while certainly serviceable, often caused more trouble than they were worth. As such, the village sent down orders to have one of their shinobi see to it that the vandals were taken care of, all without further stoking the enmity of Naoki. Merchants such as Naoki were a key part of Konoha’s economy, even if he hated the system his tax money helped fill the village’s coffers.

And so, this was how Natsumi Nara now found herself standing in front of Naoki’s establishment dressed in the garb of a man alongside a rag-tag group of samurai. The mission was quite simple: eliminate the threat of vandals without being seen as a shinobi or, in Natsumi’s case, a kunoichi. It wasn’t exactly the teen’s idea of a good time on a Saturday night, but she needed the money and couldn’t say no to a direct order.

Earlier in the day, she had gone through the interview process with Naoki. He asked questions, checked references, and pitted his would-be bodyguards against each other. The whole process was meant to test the mettle of those who would later be protecting the shop and, all while maintaining her cover as a boy, Natsumi passed each test put against her. While she lacked the strength of those around her, she used her speed and guile to make the cut—though she did try to minimize speaking as much as possible, using a deeper voice than she was used to was grating, to say the least.

“Here they come,” the samurai to her right grunted. “Let’s get this over with.”

Emerging from a distant alleyway were five figures, one for each of the gathered samurai. At least it wasn’t too big of a group, Natsumi thought to herself—that could have been a headache and a half. She wasn’t much for close-quarters combat, especially when falling back on clear uses of chakra would raise suspicions. The clash that followed would either require her to lean on her physical prowess, which admittedly was lacking or some kind of trick.

Natsumi was banking on a trick.

Before night fell over the merchant district, Natsumi had sent a shadow clone to a different alleyway. From there the clone would be able to provide discreet support to the Nara. What followed would be far from a fair fight; the genin had little interest in going home with a black eye or worse.

The melee started slow and then erupted all at once. Both groups, samurai and vandals alike, stalked forward sizing each other up. Natsumi, for her part, found herself paired up with a larger man with long greasy hair and a metal pipe. The pair split off as they paced about until, at last, the man charged with something approximating a battle cry.

With her clone already in position, the greasy-haired man made it four steps toward Natsumi before stopping. The clone’s shadow connected with the man’s, and he was helpless against Natsumi’s barrage of attacks that followed: a punch to the gut, a kick to the shin, and an uppercut to the chin that sent the man onto his back as the clone released its hold. Fortunately, the mess of the melee disguised the use of ninjutsu, and the greasy-haired man would have no time to warn his friends as he lay unconscious from knocking his head against the street.

Naoki surely had a good idea for talent, because the group of samurai quickly dispatched the vandals and sent those that could still move running back into the shadows. And just like that Natsumi’s mission was complete. Naoki congratulated his samurai and never once would have guessed that his shop was safe thanks to those that he hated.

Natsumi did not stick around for the drinks Naoki offered his protectors, though the idea was tempting. Rather, she slipped back into the darkness and followed the familiar path back to the village’s administration annex. It was late, but every mission required a debrief, and she didn’t much like the idea of having to wake up early in the morning to recount her success.

She wrote up her report, submitted it, and went on her way. The village at night was surprisingly peaceful. For the first time in quite a while, the Nara was happy with a job well done. Perhaps there was something to this whole kunoichi thing that she didn’t totally hate.

Another mission done.

---
Exit/Thread Closed.

TWC: 1013
+2000 ryo and 10 ap from completing the D-rank: Hired Muscle mission (1000 WC req)
+ 10 speed
+ 513 words toward training Shadow Stitching Technique [ 513 words + 2237 words = 2750/2750 jutsu fully trained]
+ 500 words toward training Shadow Neck Choke

WC Math: 513 words toward shadow stitching + 500 words toward shadow neck choke = 1013/1013