Reborn in the Mist

Even though it was wet, sky gloomy and jailed up with traitors and Samurai, Junko couldn’t say she minded the luxury becoming warden of Koorijima’s capital city provided.

Koorijima’s soil was blessed with an unnatural fertility, it’s capital city and the ancient bloodline that ruled since time before the Daimyo and even now being cited as the source of the blessing. Plant life took to the earth with greater ease than anywhere in the five nations, even the Land of Fire.

Farmers made a bounty harvesting crops long out of season and their liege lords made even more off sustaining half of the country’s food demands alongside the booming timber trade. Smart thinking noblemen weren’t far behind either, several having set up large shipwright companies that shot Koorijima to second place right after the Daimyo’s seat of power in terms of economic worth.

All this without a single mine or shinobi base. As such, it didn’t surprise Junko to find that the Daimyo’s enemies hadn’t risked permanently deposing the ancient family the fertile land was attributed to. Junko was much the same as she politely took charge of the city to further prepare.

She couldn’t waste time though, as much as she would like to take her time fabricating accounts as she siphoned a mere portion of the wealth of crops, livestock and the silver ryo to enrich her clan, there were more mice to catch.

The naval victory had come at some cost. Two careless Jounin had been torn apart by canon fire despite their collective efforts and while they’d made it to shore fast enough to catch the enemy with their pants down in the city, several more groups of militia and their Samurai had escaped.

Interrogated prisoners all confirmed there were at least six Named Samurai left to surrender. That was less than Junko expected but she supposed some of the corpses sunk to the bottom of the sea would account for the lesser number.

Koorijima was a vital target, one worth salivating over if only for the daily riches the capital city and the neighbouring towns provided, but it’s position at the head of the country as well as the infrastructural development made it possible for any active military body to move where needed. Kirigakure wasn’t underestimating its worth any more than Baron Watanbe and Tetsuya were, that was why the Lord Fourth sent her here after all.

Two dead Jounin aside, Junko’s invasion force was still at full strength with twenty Jounin active albeit recovering their chakra and an idle squadron of Chuunin just looking for something to do. And she had just the task.

There was no point resting on her naval victory when she could continue pushing forward and ensure the escaped Named Samurai and their militia couldn’t set themselves up to be a thorn in her side. As such, she was personally leading her squadron of four 3-man Chuunin teams to scouring the surrounding areas for runaway Samurai.

Jounin Karashi landed at her side, his weight straining the branch just a bit as he gave his report, “Team Karashi’s located and confirmed the target, it was just as the informant said, there’s an underground entrance in the abandoned warehouse. But besides that, we’ve got eyes on the two Samurai and a bunch of militia trying to fix up the place.”

Junko nodded and eased her shoulders against the tree bark. Jounin Karashi was another Funato, the second in command to her predecessor to be specific. She’d left said predecessor to organize the city, commission ships and munitions as well as ensure a constant patrol of the coast was held. Baron Watanabe and Tetsuya would want to take Koorijima back as soon as possible, which kept their time short.

But they’d be done with the mice hunting and back to relieve him of command in a jiffy, as soon as he’s done all the boring but necessary preparations anyway. Junko turned to Karashi and flashed a grin, “Well, let’s pay them a visit before they get to barring the back door shall we?”

He gave a curt nod and leaped away, returning to his team. Junko gave the signal to hers waiting patiently behind her on tree trunks and they communicated the orders to the rest of the squadron in seconds.

She leaped down and led her team ever forward through the thick of bushes and overgrown weeds. Their informant or prisoner had sent them in the right direction after all; an abandoned warehouse south of the decommissioned docks. There was a town here once but for whatever reason it saw losses and degradation to the point where nature reclaimed everything that once marked human presence.

It was a good place for the Samurai to hide and lick their wounds but it was too obvious. Even if they hadn’t a prisoner to extract the information from, they would have found it in record time either way. Still, the accuracy was appreciated.

Peeking at the forest broken warehouse from behind a tree, Junko could spot Karashi’s team moving into position. There was another reason why she left her predecessor behind to manage the city and costal defence, the same reason she let Karashi take point.

The Mizukage was quite obviously punishing the Funato clan for their insolence by having them shoulder the war with their numbers and even their war chest but Junko was head of a clan herself and had an image to preserve. Mizukage or not, she couldn’t be seen to be siding so blatantly with him and so she threw the Funato a bone.

A head in charge here and there to drum up a few war stories with their names stamped all over and their egos assuaged. Her predecessor would have a few days to siphon funds for his clan if he so dares and Karashi Funato would have his name on an easy mission win, and no one would say Junko was selfish. Least of all a fellow clan head.

The second team moved into position, surrounding the budding swamp and the warehouse seeping in it on the east, leaving her team to cover the only vector of retreat. Both teams would attack and the Samurai would retreat into Junko’s deathly arms.

As Junko watched the last man of both attack teams slip into the warehouse she simultaneously heard the grind of metal against metal behind her, which, naturally shouldn’t be so unless..

She turned about just as the hairs on her neck stood in alarm, bringing up an elongated set of emerald fingernails to block a strike that would have surely lobbed her head off. Her eyes focussed and she mentally cursed at the sight of one of her Chuunin impaled against a tree, dead by tanto through the neck.

Worse, as fingernails cracked as chakra vibrated through the sword pressing against them. She leaped away from her cloaked opponent just as their weapon spurt lightning, zapping around the space and licking her fingernails.

An explosion rocked the warehouse behind her now and Junko was tempted to look but dared not. There were four cloaked opponents before her now and she only had two struggling Chuunin as allies.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied their features, each wore dark brown or all out black cloaks and had the beginnings of Samurai armour underneath them; the boots especially looked as Samurai wore not to mention the glistening katanas swiping down at her team.

Three of said opponents troubled the remains of her team to no end and they were as ill-prepared for a counter-offensive as she was, only wielding kunai to defend themselves against chakra coated weapons, might as well have no defence at all.

She bit her cheek and dashed forward, reinforcing all her fingernails till they were as sturdy as the kunai themselves but far deadlier. Junko swiped at her faceless opponent and they swiped back with far longer reach. She bit her cheek and brought her fingers together to cast jutsu but her opponent lurched forward, bringing the lightning crackling katana down with decapitating force.

Junko’s fingernails smacked the blow aside, she held back a curse as they chipped but allowed her to push into the fiend’s guard without being electrocuted. She stabbed at his exposed torso, trusting her nails to puncture a hole through that darn Samurai armour. She barely brushed it before he snatched her wrist, clenching with desperate strength to crush the joint there and then.

Switching stances, Junko raised a leg over her head and over his to deliver a her spiked-heel to his shoulder. He yelped but stifled it in an instant as he set her wrist free and broke away. The two measured each other, one already bleeding though Junko wish she’d gotten him with her nails rather than a spiked heel, first blood was shed and she savoured the scent.

She could but spare a glance at her Chuunin as they were pushed back, cornered by three opponents to their two before hers set his stance and burst with more chakra than she ordinarily expected. Junko readied herself as his katana crackled intensly with lightning chakra, her eyes narrowed at the sight and in a second her foe lurched forward, assuming what was the most basic Samurai swinging form to bring his blade down on her.

Junko expected as much though and as the sword sliced through her pre-prepared [Substitution] Jutsu kicked in, replacing her with a boulder roughly the same size as her.

Sunk in the bushes Junko wasted no time rushing to the aid of her Chuunin. One was barely hanging on with his right side paralyzed by the tear of lightning chakra and the other doing her best to protect them both.

“Water Release: Water Clone!”

Two more Junkos rose from the swampy water, equalizing the surprise battle a bit by unleashing four [Water Whips] on two cloaked fiends, ripping them off their feet and dragging them through the mud by their necks. As they struggled Junko lurched through the third, her elongated fingernails were sharper than talons as she struck, stabbing through what should have been stronger armour with far greater ease than she expected.

Her victim wasn’t expecting it either. He ripped himself free, yowling as he immediately sprawled face first into the mud and coughed blood. “Are you two alright?” Junko spared a moment of concern for her charges, looking about for the fourth and initial opponent. The pair of Chuunin nodded, quickly arming themselves with better weapons and chewing solider pills to mute the agony of an electrocuted system.

Junko watched the man continue to crawl and hack blood like an infected pig. She would smile at the sight if several things about it didn’t worry her. For one, the armour was a fake, part of it, especially the helmets, were even Genjutsu illusions.

These were tricks Samurai weren’t privy to. She glanced back at the heavy burning warehouse and let out a string of expletives. Now not only had she lost two Jounin in the naval battle, she’d lost another one trying to finish the job. Junko didn’t want to underestimate Karashi Funato but she failed to notice there was anything wrong with their approach and he seems to have gotten the worse of the sprung trap.

This will be a headache to report but… She cast a side glance at the man choking on his own spurt blood and saliva, her fingernails weren’t simply strong and sharp, they were poisoned enough to bring down a Class-C Summon Animal if she so needed. These are obviously shinobi…the only shinobi meant to be in this war are Kiri shinobi.

There was a chance that it was rouge-nin but what rouge-nin would be stupid enough to throw themselves against the war effort of a Hidden Village? No, there was something else here.

She knelt down beside the man and pulled out a vial and syringe from her pouch; the Second Shinobi war taught her the value of an antidote was just as great as the poison. Without a word she stabbed the filled syringe into the man’s neck and watched his eyes roll back in relief and unconsciousness.

“We’re taking this one back to base. Watch him while I put out that fire, see if Karashi and his team are still alive.”