| abstract | - Because of his birthright, being the second sibling, he was not destined to be the Kazekage should Gaara, or Kankuro, fail to produce children, nor was he eligible to serve his clan as their faithful leader. Even distantly, his brother was set to inherit his father's position as the Jōnin Commander and hokage's second hand. It had been up to Shikaniku to carve his own destiny; hard work, and dedication ultimately provided him with the life he pursued. In midst of his thoughts, three knocks echoed from his doorway, in a particularly rhythmic pattern that every konoha shinobi could recognize. He stepped away from his reflective beauty and opened the door. One of his operatives, bearing a cat themed mask, met him with a brief statement. "Lunch within the hour." Shikaniku expressed his gratitude, and with a flick of the hand, issued an order. The shinobi flickered away, leaving a cloud of smoke in his wake. They were trained well. Closing the door, he walked to the balcony of his own room, and stepped outside. The sun illuminated the leaves of the trees that surrounded the particularly large estate, encapsulating the surface in a piercing light that only the strengthened the shadows that rested beneath it. Shikaniku smiled at the beauty of the world; the symbolism was as strong and evident, yet it was only very few individuals with the mental abilities to detect its subtleness. Leaping from the balcony, Shikaniku leaped into the dense forest, walking in the shadow of the leaves, held up tall by the roots of the tree. The creation and spread of legends are a major presentation of the power possessed by one's mind. Simple rumors snowball into myths whispered at campfire or told to children. Eventually these myths become supernatural stories with a plethora of purposes. From morals to entertainment, the stories gather their own unimaginable power. A strength in words capable of halting armies and manipulating the world upon whispers. Although legends that acquire such ranking are often regarded as childish fairy tales told before bedtime, there exist a grain of truth in each word; a primordial explantation from which the current rendition evolved. Every country had an immense catalog filled with these stories and tales. Regardless of their current ridiculousness, the story possessed a seedling of reality. These legendary figures existed throughout the generations in various stories. Currently, Kirigakure spoke of the Phantom of the Hidden Mist. An identifiable shinobi who serves as one of the hounds for the Mizukage while satisfying his personal bloodlust. A man whose skills in assassination lead a lack of public identification. Simply put, the Phantom of the Hidden Mist had transformed into the name of this enigmatic being. Shinobi would use his title as a method of securing power while criminals fled at word of the Phantom's approach. Unfortunately, those who managed to discovered the Phantom's identity could only speak about it from the Pure Land. An aftermath his next target would suffer from. The Phantom despised the heavy sunlight covering other lands, preferring the cool breezes of his homeland. He enjoyed the ocean breezes and the livening sensation of snow pressing against his face. The brightness of midday was also disadvantageous for one of his profession, which was due to the limited timeline offered to him. Regardless, the Phantom moved with an utter silence through the dense forest surrounding him. The Land of Fire's reputation for lush fields and dense forest is more than I'd expected. The Phantom sighed as he stood atop a large branch. My target is around here...The bastard is a known criminal of the Land of Water who has claimed allegiance to the Land of Fire. We cannot risk him revealing anything. The Phantom quickly leapt to another branch, seemingly shimmering into existence at different locations. In case he's heavily guarded... His greatest weapon was not the infamous blades he alternated between throughout his missions. No. The Phantom took great pride in his ability of contemplation, concentration and problem solving. Every situation was escapable if one dedicated the time to explore and investigate. He spotted an opening nearby and landed at the center of the forest's clearing. A wide space where leaves fell at every urge of the wind. Quickly, the Phantom gathered ten explosive tags and proceeded to bury them in a circular formation. He followed by carving three lines into a nearby tree. The Phantom immediately vanished afterwards, darting towards the enemies headquarters. However, the Phantom surveyed the area for potential barriers and traps in an attempt of better preparing an escape route. Doing so, he stumbled upon a lone shinobi whose appearance could hint at a familiar relationship. I should clear the area before I continue onwards. Can't have any surprises when my job is complete. The Phantom, clad from head to toe in black, wore a shitagi covered with a sleeveless uwagi, tied at the waist using a dark purple sash. And below his waist, he donned hakama style pants secured at the ankles by footwear consisting of ankle-high boots. With the infamous needle sword, Nuibari, tied tightly around his waist. The lavender eye'd shinobi had a sharpened gaze due to the dark ring surrounding each eye. Of course his eyes were the only part of his face unobstructed by his black mask and blank headband. Which, when considering the obsidian scarf tied around his neck, helped the Phantom faze into the shadows created by the tree's foliage. I'll kill you first. The Phantom drew Nuibari with a wire wrapped around his finger for enhanced control. Rather than allow impulsiveness to disrupt his concentration, the Phantom took a deep breath before tossing it at incredible speeds The needlelike blade soared through the air silently, piercing five leaves cleanly. He moved his finger slightly, guiding the blade so it flew towards the heart of Shikaniku. Having studied his clan's encyclopedia—his father made it a requirement for his children—Shikaniku had always been fascinated with the variety of terrestrial plant-life that the Land of Fire hosted. Whenever he took a walk, he inspected the land looking for specimens that he could recognize, and if he couldn't, he would add them to the collection within his clan's vast library. Looking downwards, he spotted a violet flower with star petals. Catching his attention, he bent downwards, picking the flower, simultaneous with Daiyi's throw. When he stood back up, he saw a rapier soaring through the air. "What the...?" Shikaniku turned around, looking into the foliage around him, yet, even his eyes could not pierce the leaves that enshrouded the forest. "Who the hell is there?" His tone did not betray his emotions. It was harsh, as if he was frustrated with the world. Afterall, he was. The world was trying to kill him. Shinobi who lived by specific codes of honor and chivalrous ideals are shinobi who deliberately choose disadvantageous odds. To live the life of a shinobi meant indulging oneself as an agent of secrecy and deceit. Shinobi gained infamy for their skills in the manipulation of darkness, not their valor or nobility. Although the Phantom enjoyed crossing blades fairly, the Mizukage ordered him to dispose of this official. Which meant suppressing his own personal desire for entertainment and removing the intimate relationship he possessed with murder; essentially transforming into an emotionless machine. A sword used to claim souls without questioning a single order. Regardless, the Phantom of Kirigakure yanked his arm backwards in an attempt to immediately call Nuibari into his grasp. However, the assassin utilized an excellent control over his energy to efficiently vitalize the upper portion of his body. Resulting in the Phantom retrieving Nuibari at an untraceable speed without wasting an ounce of chakra. When his hand grabbed Nuibari, the Phantom seemingly vanished into nothingness, removing his auditory, visual, olfactory traces as well. A thick silence suddenly emerged, only broken by the occasional winds peacefully blowing through the Land of Fire's massive trees. The local fauna remained undisturbed by the invisible phantom swiftly circling around Shikaniku. Combined with his invisibility, the Phantom used the natural protection provided by trees to further obscure movements. With the element of surprise lost, the Phantom had formulated another stratagem. Smoke silently engulfed the Phantom's person, which he used the land's natural foliage to cover. A chipmunk leapt forward, through the trees and bushes before eventually scurrying towards Shikaniku with a rather noticeable yet feigned limp. It used it's small body in an attempt to swiftly climb his clothes. The small creature had a single goal in mind, to reach the flower in Shikaniku's grasp for food. Most found chickmunks simply adorable, if not outright irresistible, but for Shikaniku, anything other than his wife touching him was an abomination to god. As the creature leaped the flower, Shikaniku, realizing it'd be a waste of energy to bother himself with a rodent, carelessly tossed the flower away from his being. Five paces; the lavender flower floated towards the earth gracefully while the wind seemingly died, leaving the brown haired man in utter silence. Four paces; the rodent increased in speed towards the falling flower hungrily and in extreme anticipation. Three paces; the Phantom reappeared with Nuibari drawn and prepared to strike. Immediately, three identical Phantom's emerged from the center assassin dashing towards Shikaniku. They moved in unison while dancing around one another at blinding speeds. When within distance, three blades lunged towards Shikaniku in different locations. The first Phantom silently thrusted Nuibari towards his neck while the second aimed for his heart. The third Phantom flickered behind Shikaniku, snapping a twig beneath his feet, before swiftly pivoting and lunging his sword towards the leaf shinobi's liver; using his extensive knowledge of the human anatomy to skillfully locate his target. Each landing just as the flower fell, the threefold attack was a maneuver of absolute elegance at an untraceable momentum. It had been in his family's genes for generations; their ability to visualize the world, take in the information, and strategize within seconds had been what ultimately allowed them to remain the leaders of their clan. The instant that Daiyi had released his transformation, the nara had been thinking of an appropriate strategy. Channeling a blue hue of energy into his blade, Shikaniku unsheathed his katana, and in a continuous motion, aimed to counter the sword thrusted towards his liver with a downward swing. The Phantom smirked, surprised that his adversary could discern his movements with such an unseen ease. The two phantom's before Shikaniku disappeared into nothingness, a memory forgotten by the world. Those who mastered Róuyún Jiànfǎ possessed an intimate understanding of the methods of utilizing speed and precision to overwhelm brutal strength. And during such instances, masters relied heavily on footwork instead of barbarically clashing blades. Especially considering the power Katana's possessed in comparison to his unique single-handed swords. As Shikaniku's arms swung downward, the Phantom realized the intention before swiftly rotating his wrist in an attempt to perform a disengage; essentially maneuvering Nuibari behind the Katana's hilt in an effort of piercing it through its master's wrist. The advantage of the Phantom's choice in blades, including his family's signature weapon, was the incredible lightness which allowed masters to control their sword mid-motion without wasting movement. Ultimately resulting in an unrivaled usage of point control or manipulating the sword's tip utilizing only one's wrist. Regardless of contact, the Phantom prepared to retreat a few paces. Daiyi flicked his wrist so quick and spontaneous that Shikaniku found himself with proper time, nor the skill, to counter his assault. When the tip of Daiyi's blade penetrated his wrist, and in almost a similar motion slipped back out the womb, Shikaniku grunted in pain as he dropped his own Katana. By the time he had turned around, his enemy had distanced himself a few steps. Fortunately, the rapier's tip was barely bigger than that of a sewing needle's tip, resulting in a relatively small wound. The blood dripped from the small hole in his hand. It had always been customary for a shinobi, once in battle, to smile and smirk at their own mistakes, their wounds, and their opponent's skillfulness. However, Shikaniku had never been one of those ninja. As his chakra enclosed blade clang against the earth, he gave his opponent a pointed look. "Hey, who do you think you are, huh?" Shikaniku inquired furiously, swinging his arm feriociously as he spoke. The Phantom tilted his head when Shikaniku waved about, noting the blue crescent shaped energy soaring towards him. Chakra instantaneously vitalized his body without the necessity of hand seals, allowing the Phantom to seemingly shimmer as he launched upwards in a powerful leap. Which resulted in the bifurcation of an afterimage while the Phantom descended and tossed four smoke bombs between them. The explosion creating a cloud of smoke that engulfed the area. Although the Phantom despised relying heavily on the subtle yet deceitful tactics inherited by shinobi of Kirigakure, he knew the importance of this mission's success. And so, He silently descended into the cloud, while five splitting images shimmered into existence around him without wasting an ounce of chakra. Despite the thick smoke, the Phantom picked up a slight scent of copper from a specific area as blood dripped from Shikaniku's wrist. Locating his target, a Phantom appeared before Shikaniku while aiming towards his heart. Which was immediately followed by two phantoms dashing at Shikaniku, flanking him entirely and thrusting their blades into his hip. A Phantom from a distance swiftly tossed Nuibari towards Shikaniku's right Achilles tendon, using the wire to skillfully maneuver the sword. And finally, another Phantom descended with a powerful heel kick to his shadow Immediately responding to the threats that approached him, Shikaniku conjured the magical energies within his body. Forcing his body into a twisting motion, he unleashed the transformed chakra in a deafening roar as he wisped the air around him into a deflective vortex, yet as his attack passed through all but the blade, he had stumbled onto it again: clones. Throwing down smoke pellets, Shikaniku encapsulated himself in an aura of smoke. Almost as if he puffed into existence, he leaped out of the top of the smoke, throwing an explosive kunai towards Daiyi, as he prepared for his next assault. Troublesome. The only word the Phantom could think when referring to those who performed nature transformations. Of course, the Phantom used the wires to retrieve Nuibari before Shikaniku would have the chance to grab it. And he swung his sword slightly to deflect the oncoming kunai. In return, he swiftly threw four shuriken towards the shinobi in the air. A puff of cloud surrounded the kunai as Daiyi attempted to deflect it with his Nuibari, and in its stead once the cloud of smoke had dissipated was no other than Shikaniku, who looked Daiyi in his eyes as he approached. With his own blade, encapsulating in an aura of chakra, he swung it towards the moving rapier, hoping to parry it from striking his own being almost simultaneously. On the other end of the field, the kunai surged through the air with a remarkable precision that struck the clone as it poofed away out of existence, just as easily as it had poofed into the world. The Phantom's lavender eyes were open wide as he watched Shikaniku suddenly appear where the kunai had flown.So the adversary took after the Phantom's own clever tricks? As one would expect in a battle between two shinobi. Unfortunately, the Phantom found his body frozen in place through unknown methods. Which left him open for Shikaniku to return a skillful trick. However, the Phantom watched silently while awaiting his chance to retrieve distance. His own chakra infused blade clashed with the Nuibari, sending the sword flying with his own overwhelming strength. Landing on the ground, immediately following his deflection, his sword, seemingly devoid of any chakra at this point, Shikaniku moved his sword towards Daiyi's legs in an attempt to rid him of it entirely. The Phantom bit his lip as he quickly circulated chakra through his person. Although the paralysis was strong, the energy managed to remove Shikaniku's influence from within. Allowing the Phantom to swiftly leap above the sword soaring towards his legs. Unfortunately, his blade managed to make an impressive wound on his hip which he skillfully ignored. Instead, the Phantom flipped backwards in an attempt to regain space between the two shinobi, utterly shock that someone could withstand his subtle tricks. However, he gained enough information to quickly strategize. Shinobi who imitated swordsmen would essentially fall to the blades of t those who pledged their lives to the sword. And the Phantom planned on exploiting this natural law against Shikaniku. He seemingly shimmered for a second before the afterimage disappeared completely. By then, the actual Swordsmen was lunging at Shikaniku from different directions. Three strikes aimed at his heart, stomach and wrist, the Phantom moved with such speed his arms seemingly vanished to those without mastery over blessed eyes
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