Tales of a Ninja Magician: Of What Defines Us

The New Plan

Feeling a little bit down, after the revelations that the research about Hoshigakure lead her to, Mana rushed to the Hiro's Hall where she was supposed to perform in a very erratically put together magic show. Despite her rush, the magician's eyes did notice a couple of posters stuck on info boards and building walls with her face on it, desperately trying to capture some eyes and do some tragic, non-advertised show course correction.

The hall had an awkwardly smoky and stuffy feeling about it, something that was not its usual feature. Mr. Hiro liked to keep his properties classy, obviously, as long as it cost as little as possible. Mana tried remembering if Mr. Hiro mentioned something about what was supposed to happen in this hour instead of her show but nothing came up. The magician did not want to infringe on anyone's time and she was a big enough earner for Hiro, when she did actually perform, for the man to move his performers around just for her.

This show was no silly and unlikely miracle, the hall was not filled, not anywhere nearly so. It appeared that only the people in whose lives sleep took a tertiary, supporting role, as well as those who just happened to accidentally stumble into the reserved and smoky light show of Mana's impromptu show showed up. Mr. Hiro will not praise her too much, but he was still making a profit, which, given the state of his hall currently, would not be happening if he screened some late-night movie.

Mana's show was hardly anything to write home about as well, not her finest work, coming, obviously, because of the erratic nature of the performance, lack of overdrawn weeklong preparations and long-term planning. She did not use any fancy metallic death traps of anything like that. It was just cold, calculated magic. It was some good as shit magic, but it was completely devoid of emotion or Mana's usual love for the craft.

If there was emotion behind Mana's performance, it was rage. Desperation and rage. Anxiety for the unknowns in the future that was more mature than most gave it credit for, desperation and rage. Mana forced her magic, not in a way that the tricks looked forced or that she was easy to see-through, in a way that an angry martial artist threw punches. The punches were quick, strong, lethal and ruthless, more than capable to do their job and then some... Nevertheless, dark and somber emotions still fueled them, which influenced the "art" part in martial arts.

After Mana finished and bowed to the audience. She received very reserved but consistent claps. There could have been more than forty people watching the show, most of them displayed some sort of a warm reaction but this audience was different from what Mana was used to. These were the people who ruled and thrived in the night, both because the day was too bright for their goals and desires and because some of them simply liked the night better because it was the time when everyone else was asleep and needn't be their problem.

Mana decided not to even go back to her little closet to change and just go back home in her uniform. She felt tired but also quite satisfied. This emotionally fully loaded show kind of helped her do what needed to be done – clear her mind for a good forty-nine minutes and just let go of everything that was holding by her foot tightly and dragging her underwater.

"Not bad, kid. I promised an after-show meeting on the poster, figured I needed something special for this shitty case. Hope it's not a problem"? Mr. Hiro mumbled, as he counted up and handed to the magician her much more modest than the usual fee, in his childish-like tone. It was tough to say if he was angry at Mana from just his eyes, they were always squinted shut and rarely ever let anything but a little bit of light in.

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry, Mr. Hiro, I just... Really needed this, I know nobody came..." Mana apologized because she figured it was in order for her.

"What? Come on, kid, I'm still making money when, otherwise, this place would be only occupied by moths. If you want to see more faces, plan something a bit further ahead, you've got the chops to fill these halls, don't forget that"! Mr. Hiro nodded erratically a pair of times slapping his round belly according to some gloomy music tune that was filling the air in between the shows.