Tales of a Ninja Magician: Of Games of Body and Soul

One of Seven Draws Their Sword

Kouta looked around, scanning the area from a bird's point of view in an attempt to find his teammate. It was difficult finding a kunoichi who fought by concealing herself through camouflage or ninjutsu and laid traps for her unsuspecting opponents. If Erumo could just be found like that, she'd be quite bad at what she did. A good support ninja never showed themselves off enough to be chosen as a prime target as they were usually easier to take out as a result of being weaker than their more combat focused teammates.

The floating Juugo clansman observed a small, slate grey skinned man with a head easily half the size of his entire body charged at the central figure of the assassin organization – the dreadful, lantern-helmed specter of the battlefield in the middle. The toddler-shaped man was one of the four ninja doing their best to bring their enemy down, so far their combined efforts appeared to result in a stalemate.

Kouta's eyes ran across the nearest battlefield like through lines of a book he was interested in. The Juugo changed the position of his body, directing his head down and then blasting downward like an arrow, towards the location of the clash. The fight was even. His involvement could have changed that. Erumo likely thought the same...

A moment of doubt smoldered in the young man's mind, was this truly his assessment of his friend's process of thinking or did he merely make it up on the spot to justify involving himself in this brawl? The young man bit his tongue hard enough to squint in pain and then moved his jet-feet closer together to make his descent more streamlined. Like a rocket, he shot right at the ghastly man.

Pain reverberated throughout Kouta's entire body. It felt like multiple daggers had pierced his every limb, stringy, tearing sounds echoed through the young man's body overwhelmed by a deafening pop that then transitioned into weaker cracks somewhere within his inner ear. Even while his body became completely battered by the massive opposing force stopping his reckless rush at the very last moment, out of sheer instinct, Kouta dashed back before even noticing the devastation rampant all over his morphed body parts. All of them were covered with severe cracks, exposing bleak, fleshy bits under them.

"You're not one of the Blood Lagoon and yet you've come here to die regardless?" the lantern-helmed, spectral ninja wondered out loud even though, judging from his tone, the remark was meant more to be kept to himself.

"Well, well... You've dodged Mizoma's kill shot in there. Nice moves, kid." The Blood Lagoon kunoichi in the long, elegant dress, favoring offensive taijutsu style licked her lips.

Kouta did not quite understand what the woman was talking about. He did not see any follow-up attacks... Then again, maybe that was the point? He didn't see them because someone of his level of skill should not have seen it and died rushing at the vastly superior opponent? In that case, Kouta only dodged the enemy's attack due to relying on sheer instinct. It was the way his father fought and tried teaching Kouta to fight – no thought, just the movements one fighter's gut commanded them to make. It may have just saved his life...

"Who's this now?" a feminine-looking man in a frilly undershirt, a leather vest and a crimson, silken cloth that remained firmly held upon the man's back due to a pair of massive, metallic crosses, both of which were connected by their longer, lower parts like crossed blades. "More importantly, why are you helping us?"

The toddler-shaped man giggled just like one. His childish mannerisms creeped Kouta out having in mind the facial features of a seasoned man stuck on the grand cranium of the miniature ninja. "Who in their right minds would help us? He's a Konoha ninja, can't you see? It would make sense for a Konoha ninja to just want to off Mizoma. It's dangerous for one of the Seven Swords to roam the Fire Country..."

"Any threat to the integrity of my head on my shoulders is worth the reward of removing your cancerous existence from this world!" the spectral titan whom the Blood Lagoon ninja referred to as "Mizoma" growled while stepping forward. Kouta took note of the loud and heavy clinging noises coming from the busted up black cape covering Mizoma. Undoubtedly, this man did not share the affinity for strange, gothic or Lolita-styled clothing that bound these Blood Lagoon ninja, although the hatred in the man's voice sounded almost... Personal.