The ninja flew across the lush hills, clothed in a dark silken robe, which covered a silk sheet that held his weapons neatly around his waist. In the wild gardens below him, dew lingered on the crimson red roses and royal purple violets like crystals, before crashing towards the ground and melting into the viscous, sticky, and granular mud. Dashing above the towering grass, he did not leave the smallest dimple of a trail. Cold morning air pierced his practice-hardened skin, and the aggravated ribbon of his black cloak flapped wildly behind his thin frame.

As the grass passed below him, his hands slowly gravitated towards the round handles of his worn, sixth generation kunai throwing knives. His fingers laced through each handle anxiously, as the red banner of the Katsuki clan erratically fluttered in the dynamic winds. The profuse fields of grass disappeared behind him, to be replaced by a forest. The ninja glided towards a soft mat of pine needles. Without a sound, he crouched through the ever-intriguing forest. His kunai spun faster and faster within his grasp as he dug deeper through the trees; closer to his target. Moss hung limp from high branches. Dense fog seeped under the canopy of branches, closing on the ninja like children around a vat of honey. Hairs on the back of his neck rose as he probed his unknown surroundings, before making a courageous leap above the fog, and into a pine. A whirlwind of needles followed him, marking his path. He quickly left the tree just as it was before he came, knowing that soldiers would be about. From the ninja’s constricted lungs, a brief exhale escaped. Time melded past into present, as he traversed through the dark forest.

Thick leaves prevented the sunlight from entering the cave-like gloom. Silently, he settled his feet down on a stable tree limb. He watched as briefly, a deer poked its head above the fog, before abruptly falling back towards the ground with a harsh thud. Reacting quickly, the ninja threw a knife where the deer had fallen seconds ago. The forest rang with a screech of pain. He drew his kunai and dove into the unknown. Falling with a heavy thump, his arms swooped together, forming wide arcs which met a foot that had appeared in front of his face. Another scream came. Quickly, he grabbed the figure before him, and then retreated back to his vantage point. A Katsuki soldier’s pale body lay limp in his strong arms. Blood blemished the fibers of his dark robe. Behind the soldier’s helm, an expression of horror was fossilized, white eyes rolled back, mouth agape. The ninja silently reclaimed his bloodstained knives and slid into his cloak.

Heavy boots crashed against the carpet of leaves behind him. He drew his Jigita shuriken, and tossed them forward, before a sharp scream rang out through the forest. When the fog cleared, the ninja’s body was found with a kunai throwing knife neatly embedded directly between his shoulders.