Chapter 5.3- One Thousand Hands

XXXXXX- TOSHIRO TAKEHADA- NINE YEARS UNTIL THE OUTBREAK OF THE SECOND GREAT SHINOBI WAR

“Don’t forget the plan” Their sensei said, and then disappeared. He resisted the urge to gulp. How could he ever forget the plan? It was his plan, after all. They stood in the treelike, watching the bandit encampment through fuinjutsu enhanced binoculars. Having a Senju on the team was such a hack. They got the best stuff. His mother even said that these binoculars weren’t cleared for issue to Jounin yet. And yet, Shorirama had just fished out four of them from the bag like it was nothing. It probably was. Toshiro had seen the kind of ballpark Senju wealth existed in.

“I trust you” his friend said, and then clapped him on the shoulder. It was a classic example of bad intelligence. On their seventh mission in as many months, they’d been sent to root out and destroy a bandit camp. He was noticing a theme. Unlike virtually every other team in their graduating class, they’d only been sent on one type of mission. The kind where direct combat was probable. Nay, it was expected. They were expected to seek out opponents and fight them. His best guess was that the adnministrative arm of the village thought his team wouldn’t be good for much else. He couldn’t disagree, he thought, looking at his teammates. Uzume had fished out a gunbai of all weapons a few months ago, and now she was giving the very large and unusual weapon a few anticipatory swings. She was deadly with the thing, he knew. Shori already had an easy smile on his face. The kind of smile that was a harbinger of mischief. That was what he was taking advantage of with this plan, Shori’s natural skill with deception.

Like he could sense his thoughts, Shori smiled at him and then dropped out of the tree they’d been standing in. As he landed, his appearance shifted with an application of chakra so precise that the telltale puff of smoke that marked the transformation jutsu was nowhere to be found. A medical ninja for a cousin meant Shori had the best chakra control of them all. Even better than Sensei if the man was to be believed. Toshiro had since learned that Sakumo Hatake rarely ever spoke the truth. And in the few instances he did, there was always an extra layer of subtext only available to those who bothered to look ‘underneath the underneath’.

Shori’s gait shifted, becoming more panicked and hurried. He always found it fascinating just how many messages humans could pass with nothing but body language. It fascinated him, but people like Shori and Kizuru- they obsessed over it. Years ago, he’d found it quirky how they played games where they took on different personas and kept poking at each other to get the other to break character. Now, he could see how useful that had become. Observant as he thought himself to be, he couldn’t see a single sign that Shori was anything more than what he presented himself as. A scared child running into a group of bandits, unknowing of the fate that awaited him.

“Help, help” He shouted, voice sounding higher pitched than usual, and also much louder than the whisper he preferred these days. Wind release training had a habit of straining the vocal cords, he’d explained. Toshiro looked to his side and noted Uzume watching everything with her bright red eyes. Ten months as a genin had- between training with a jounin and missions where combat was guaranteed- developed her Sharingan to the perfect state. Three tomoe in each eye. His reading told him that most Uchiha didn’t get to that level until they were well into adulthood. Uzume was just eleven. They all were.

“Hey. It’s a kid” One of the bandits said, looking down from the wall of the encampment they occupied to get a good look at Shori. Encampment was a hell of an understatement. Somehow, the bandits had managed to find and take possession of an old fortress from the warring states period that had been abandoned by the Clan after they’d moved to Konoha. He couldn’t quite tell which clan it had been, but he would make sure to ask Shorirama after they’d taken the place.

“What do you want, kid?” Another asked as Shori kept shouting for help.

“M-my fat-fat-father. He’s in trou-trouble” Were those tears? Shori’s commitment to the act was commendable. The bandits on the wall wasted no time in dropping their guards.

“What happened?” One asked

“Our ca-caravan. A wheel broke and when da-dad was try-trying to fix it, his leg. It br-bro” He collapsed into further tears. “Please help us” He finally screamed out through the tears.

Toshiro knew that if he could look at the bandits’ eyes, there’d be ryo signs floating in them. Free money. They were unlikely to say no. They were also very likely to do the stupid thing and abandon their posts at the gate without waking up the others. They’d be keen on keeping as much of the loot for themselves as possible. Their intel said that the leader of this particular group was a greedy man who did little if any sharing of the loot with the subordinates.

His gamble paid off as the men whispered to themselves before one of them spoke, “We’ll help you kid. Stop crying. Just take us to the caravan” Toshiro’s heart skipped a beat as it seemed like only half of them were going to follow Shori, but after a short argument, the half that had been supposed to wait behind joined in with the half that were going to follow Shori. All thirteen of them trooped out of the gate, greedy smiles on their faces and weapons clutched in their hands.

“Take us there, Gaki” One of them said in the kind of tone that made Toshiro itch to put a kunai through his head.

Shori did his job and began to lead them away, making him release a breath he hadn’t even known that he’d been holding.

A/N; Small timeskip, yeah?