The second to the top floor was completely sunken in darkness, save for a handful of long glowing lines on the floor that extended to the end of the room. They appeared to glow similarly to those neon lights that were becoming so prominent in Konoha’s nightly ads and vendors. Navigating such a room was difficult especially when the two were worn out and wounded and had no idea just where the staircase to the next floor even was. Jeandette was already breathing heavily and took a couple of stops to cough for quite some time with gurgling sounds that Kouta didn’t like as a young medical ninja.
It was during one of those coughing sessions that Jeandette exclaimed a surprised yell and fell to the ground. Kouta jumped up and wanted to rush up to the woman but he noticed a shadow moving through the briefly lit shadows of the floor’s corners. Could someone have snuck up on them? That should’ve been impossible, Kouta was a ninja! He was the one who was supposed to be the one sneaking up on people if he had enough time to waste on stealth. How could this one assailant possibly sneak up on a ninja? Maybe his low chakra resources greatly impacted his perception?
“It’s Mortenson… Don’t come any closer…” Jeandette cried out in pain. Whoever this “Mortenson” was, she must’ve wanted to lure Kouta into lowering his guard helping Jeandette so she could take him out as well. She was a fast and sneaky one, fast and sneaky ones usually couldn’t do well in an open one on one fight which must’ve been Kouta’s only chance.
“Jeandette, you old crone, couldn’t die alone in a puddle somewhere?” a feminine voice emanated through the room, taunting both Kouta and his new acquaintance. “Do you really need an old acting friend to deliver the killing blow? Did you become sentimental in your wilting years?” the woman kept on talking but she was constantly moving, by the time Kouta would’ve made his way to the location she was speaking from she’d have moved once again.
Sharp pain hit Kouta in the gut, it was a fist-sized round sphere of iron that must’ve been launched at high speeds, possibly from a kunai dispenser, the sphere sent Kouta tumbling backwards and hitting the wall after it blew up close to his body and sent him off his feet. It wasn’t an efficient weapon, he had very little chakra augmentations left and his endurance was slowly approaching the simple point of whatever his body offered without any enhancements. If the explosion didn’t incapacitate him it’d probably not kill a normal human, it must’ve been a weapon of displacement and torture rather than murder, then again, it wasn’t like kunai dispensers were the most lethal of weapons unless a whole barrage of blades were fired or a vital was hit.
The medical ninja instinctually rolled to the side avoiding a couple of more blast shots opening up the wall behind him and breaking the lighting situation by forcing the building’s emergency lights to flare up and lighten up the room.
Mortenson cursed from the other side of the room spitting the cigar from her mouth to the floor. She dressed similarly to the other Syndicate goons but with a more slick and feminine version of the outfit, her hat was more compact and rotund in shape and she wore classy red shades that probably helped her see in the darkness of her room where she saw everything that transpired in the room. Then again, all of her secrecy and stealth must’ve been pointless, after all any assailant would’ve been gunned down or beaten long before they reached Mortenson’s floor so it must’ve been just her way of life.
The female mobster played with her dyed blood crimson hair with streaks of blue on them. Once again she pointed her long and complicated looking kunai dispensers at Kouta forcing the medical ninja to bite his own lip and fighting through the pain evading her shots and seeing them leave large gapping holes in the walls and the floor. If he got hit by that again he’d probably be down for the count, just waiting to be finished off so Kouta decided to just not get hit.
The two clashed, Kouta’s elbow slammed into one of the long kunai dispensers, Mortenson swung the other, lifting her knee upwards aiming at Kouta’s crotch. The young man met the woman’s attacks with an upwards block from his arm and a block of her knee strike with his own. The two exchanged close distance blows again and again, occasionally firing a shot or two to try and tag Kouta some more. Mortenson appeared desperate to aim at the young man and fire away at him at point blank range.
“You’ve done your girl in, old hag Jeandette’s been stabbed in the back with my signature poison, she’ll be dead in an hour or even less, right now her body is being torn apart from inside, every cell is being corrupted and corrupts the others. If a cutie like you had anything in that big hairy head of his he’d bolt just about now…”
Kouta tried disarming the woman, grabbing her kunai dispensers and just pulling them out of her grasp, maybe pulling them apart or disassembling them by pulling out the sensitive and needed parts. It didn’t work, Mortenson was just too skilled for that, she was well trained, well enough to match a low ranking ninja without chakra augmentation hand to hand, she’d have completely dominated someone with no skill at taijutsu. Had it been not for Kouta’s skill of evasion he’d have been tagged long ago and had his limbs blown off.
The young man realized that he’ll score no hits up close, the woman was just too well trained and skilled, he was just too injured. He took a couple of backflips and rolls to avoid any follow up attacks and made some distance, it’ll be easier to dodge her at a distance than point blank. By that moment Kouta realized that he was fighting a lost battle, he could only fight off his own death, her nails had traces of blood on them, it was likely what carried through the poison. Maybe if Kouta could inflict injuries on the tips of Mortenson’s fingers she could get poisoned by her own supply? Then again, it’d probably never work, he’s having his hands full just trying not to die and even if Mortenson got poisoned she’d still take an hour to die…
A couple of whizzing sounds interrupted Kouta’s train of thought, Mortenson grunted in pain and slowly shook as she turned around to face Jeandette. The woman held a kunai dispenser in her hands and fired at her old friend from behind. Mortenson turned around, shaking in pain of kunai being lodged in her back deeply. “I’m dying anyways, you dumb bitch” Jeandette exclaimed as the poisoned musician fired a couple of more series of blades at her old friend taking her down, slowly Jeandette approached the downed mobster and fired at her again just to be sure. At some point the kunai dispenser broke down, it was overstressed while being empty. Such a strange and unperfected weapon…
“I didn’t know you did acting…” Kouta huffed out looking at the unfortunate turn of the friendship of the two women.
“In a manner of speech. I was so bad it technically wouldn’t count as “acting”. I was desperate at one point. I was already into crackers and I was losing my artistic flare. That’s where I met Mortenson, she was already a beloved girl of the Syndicate… Back then she wasn’t an actual mobster, just their plaything, must’ve picked up a thing or two during the years we’ve not seen each other” Jeandette complained falling to her knees.
“We’re almost there!” Kouta shouted out taking the wounded and dying woman up on his back and slowly carrying her to the staircase to the top floor, now that the shining lights of the village and the moon with the stars came into the artificially darkened room the staircase was revealed and the final stretch could’ve been made. Jeandette was pressing at his shoulders, breathing heavily and coughing. She must’ve been in a lot of pain as her own sickness as well as the poison must’ve been doing theirs. The woman never intended to make it, it was always just the top of her bucket list, the only thing in it, actually.
The top room was better lit, round lamps spread beams of light diagonally inwards to the room’s center. The floor was covered in rich purple heart wood tiles and the room extended seemingly into oblivion as the sides of it couldn’t be seen. Something rustled and whined in the darkness creeping Kouta out to no end. The young man just kept on walking because Jeandette had more courage than he would’ve thought it was wise to have at that moment and did so as well. The ceiling also appeared to be sophisticated and it was made of marble and extended into large and very wide marble columns descending from the top and connecting to the rich wood tiles below. It certainly looked like the top floor was bought for numerous human lives. A room which the devil bought from profit made of human souls.
“If you wanted more crackers you could’ve just called. Then again, you would know all about how to get crackers, there hardly is a substance in this rotten shithole you have not tried yet…” a loud and somewhat husky tone came from the most northern parts of the room where an expensive leather chair laid turned at the massive glass structure and brief details of the man sitting in the chair could’ve been made out. Gruesome and creepy details.
“It’s done Croquette… Remember when we last saw each other and I begged you to help me up from the puddle of vomit and rainfall I was in? You admitted to me then that you wished for redemption, that you never liked this line of work… I’ve come to free you from your nightmares” Jeandette declared looking at Kouta who placed her on the floor and looked at her questioningly, the ruined woman remained kneeling and didn’t even try to stand up.
“It’s true… I never liked this, any of it. I mean I understood what I was doing, buying and selling death for those to whom it felt pleasant… But I always knew it would be something to keep me awake at night” the man sitting at the end of the room named Croquette admitted.
Loud whines and cries, both sad and angry came from the sides of the room. Ruined bruised and rotten arms appeared from the shadows, Kouta jumped up after seeing that horrendous view. At the ends of the room there were people, saying people was only a very strict definition to be applied in this case as they were long past the point where they could’ve been defined as such. These were ruined living corpses who were still not told that they were dead, grey and torn up skin, smelly putrid flesh and bloodshot eyes, fallen out teeth that still laid by their side and lodged into their own flesh when these unfortunate people stepped or laid on them.
“Wh…What is that?” Kouta exclaimed angrily demanding an answer from Croquette, so far he had little beef with the man, all that he knew was that the man did bad things to Jeandette once and that he worked for the Syndicate. Now he had a much more terrifying and personal reason to despise the man.
“That is a reminder of my sins. They weep, cry and beg for death but I don’t grant it to them because I crave their punishment. They keep me awake at night, they remind me every living moment of my rotten life that I am ruined to the core and deserve a fate worse than theirs. They are my conscience!” Croquette shouted out as he turned back at the two and leaped off his chair pushing it back so hard that it slammed at the window and bounced off it leaving small dents in it.
Croquette’s awful facial tattoos and paintings that imitated self mutilation being seen right after the nightmare of putrid awfulness that he held in his office was too much. Kouta pressed his fists and launched himself at Croquette, at this point even Mana would’ve done it, even she’d have exploded in rage after seeing someone so ignorant and wicked. Someone who wished to repent and be redeemed but did not change themselves or move past their sins, someone who still did what caused them internal pain and the realization that their life was that of sin.
The man flipped the table angrily tossing it at Kouta, the boy was too slow, too wounded but he managed to slip under the flipped and flying table but right into Croquette’s uppercut. Then another punch, then another one and another one. The man continued to beat on Kouta before kneeing him in the gut and kicking him aside.
“I saw your ventures, I saw you take out my men and so I hoped you could also kill me and bring me to my personal Hell… I suppose that my personal Hell is living this life of mine until the end of time” the man shrugged. Kouta felt the taste of blood in his mouth and heard shrieks and cries of these ruined men, he felt their nasty breaths, he could almost feel their broken and ripped nails digging into his flesh but they were just an inch too far. Whatever they were, their humanity was long since lost…
Croquette pulled out a large stick from under his long jacket and swung it backwards and threw it forwards playing out a hard hit.
“If you won’t kill me, I guess I am doomed to play this role of the salesman of death longer. The Syndicate has heard of you and your friends, we remember you from the Katabami mine, well, not those that have been there, those guys are probably all dead and buried. You’re just as rotten inside as me, you know?” the painted face man swung his bat hitting Kouta’s sides and cracking something loudly. Kouta had no more strength left to either oppose the man or heal himself to make himself able to, both his chakra and his stamina were gone. His only hopes were to somehow bait out a mistake from the man and catch him unprepared or to die a quick death.
“I actually hoped you’d come for us, I mean we knew you kids were dumb but the other Capos said they’d take care of you guys and that I had nothing to worry about…” Croquette swung his stick again hitting Kouta right in his hands that were wrapped around his head. He may have broken them… Kouta was in too much pain to differentiate bruising pain and bone fracture pain.
“And here you are… I never hoped that you’d come with Jeandette though, I mean why would you? These stories of my life are absolutely separate right?” Croquette slammed Kouta with his bat again and again, “And then I see two of my demons combining their forces and there I saw my reckoning, my death and redemption… Finally I’d have a chance to wash my sins away and maybe be reborn a new man in whatever afterlife I went to…”
Kouta’s consciousness almost blacked out. He flung an explosive note he found in his pouch in the air and detonated it, that was about the extent of the chakra levels he could work with. Croquette leaned backwards avoiding the blast but the heat and smoke of it forced water to begin running down from the fire alarm systems. These ones must’ve been really extensive and rebuilt to be triggered more easily, for all the talks of redemption Croquette was afraid of hellfire, literal or otherwise.
The falling water began soaking deep in Kouta’s broken bones and busted body, cold shivers began joining that wretched pain but in a way it felt refreshing. His blood ticked down in small streaks of droplets onto the building up puddles of water on the rich wood tiles below. The medical ninja noticed some paint slipping into his blood, that must’ve been the facial paintings and tattoos on Croquette’s face washing off. Finally from all those drawn fake injuries and burns his fleshy and sharp cheekbones emerged. He was no demon but a ruined man…
Then Kouta realized that he had one chance, Croquette pulled out his long one handed kunai dispenser from the pocket of his jacket and aimed it to finish Kouta off but the young shinobi had disappeared in the darkness only to be followed by the man firing blindly into it, the knives bounced off the walls with only small scratches being left on the gem incrusted surfaces.
The young man knew what lurked in the darkness but he’d have rather been eaten and murdered by those poor people than killed by someone as disgusting as Croquette. Maybe before his death he could set the poor men and women free? The Juugo moved swiftly up to each and every lock and bashed at it with the bounced off kunai. Croquette stood at his end and did not move into the darkness for he feared his own demons. His refusal to let go of his sins and move past them leaving them behind would be his end…
Slowly one by one Kouta set every single one of these ruined men and women free, Croquette’s weapon cringed and coughed as it failed to fire any more blades into the welcome embrace of the darkness of his own room. His lamps offered no illumination, no sanctuary for his terrified soul. Kouta extended his hands to the side and felt those men and women caress his face, they were feeling up his bumps and blood, his countless scars and wounds he had gathered throughout the day.
“Mask… Mask… One of us…” they uttered and let go of Kouta, suddenly these poor souls decided to leave their limbo of darkness and rebel against their demonic overlord. Croquette stepped back, then back again and again touching his window that laid behind him and marked the end of his fleeing line.
“Wait… I’m… I have my mask… I wear my sins!” he screamed out but realized that his facial markings were all washed off from the bursting water system he himself tampered with. Irony became Croquette’s undoing as the addicts tore into him, Kouta didn’t wish to see the details, slowly and stealthily he slipped out of the darkness and slipped Jeandette into it so that she also did not get mauled and beaten by those men and women. They were ruined and tired but they were many and they were angry. Croquette was armed and he was strong but he was alone and he wished his own demise and redemption. Maybe he’d get what’s his in the afterlife and his desire would be fulfilled…
After having their way with their overlord the addicts let go of him, they tried to open up the drawer where the man must’ve held his crackers but they failed to do so. They quickly bolted out the open door realizing that there was nothing more there for them, just painful memories of being less than what any man deserves to be treated as “ a man.
Bleak rays of the rising Sun began peeking in the horizon as Jeandette was laying by Croquette’s table and crunching on a hat’ash cracker, Kouta was sitting by the other side and looking back at the woman and then at the Sun. These were the woman’s final moments and she wished to spend them in silence enjoying the purest form poison that ruined her life. Mortenson’s poison took away entire hours of her remaining time but at least Jeandette would pass contempt just like she always wished to. This was a woman who never restrained herself from pleasure because she knew she’d not live forever and she’d have rather died that very same day feeling happy than died a thousand years later sad that she didn’t do something she could’ve done. Maybe there was something in that everyone could’ve picked up from it…
“Mana…” Kouta thought to himself before voicing himself out loud. “You know, I thought for a while that maybe your way has something I could learn from, Jeandette. To always try everything it feels right to try and never purposefully not take the shots I could take. Then I realized that this is just what Mana-chan meant… No people are unnecessary, most people would’ve thought you were when they saw you, you laid ruined and looked like you’d given up on life. And here you were teaching me something important… Thank you, Jeandette” Kouta blinked a couple of times before looking back at his companion, she remained silent so the boy crept up to her feeling her pulse and checking for other life signs.
“I just wish you could’ve heard my thanks…” he uttered before standing back up and walking out of the building. Suddenly a powerful ray of light burst from a point in the city piercing the dark dawning sky. Kouta pressed his aching ribs and looked at the purple beam anomaly, wondering if his friends had anything to do with it. Either way this phenomenon was the only lead he had about the location of his friends. Slowly but assuredly Kouta left the collapsing building behind him, walking towards the purple beam of light and the inhumanly loud rumbling noises, fissures and quakes coming from that direction.
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