he projected voice, but Shinjitsu still heard the cry out for help. The attack was quick, but at his speed he could get there just in time to get the innocent Zealot out of the way. Toes curled into the grass, balls of feet pushing into the earth jut forward— then black.
Shinjitsu felt his body start to fall forward as his mind momentarily shut down into a state of brief unconsciousness equal to a few blinks of the eye. So short but yet too long.
Eyes reopening behind a hard mask, Shinjitsu caught himself, re-positioning on sturdy feet; and when he looked up at his main goal it was already too late. If he were to go in he could add himself to the body count, and he could not afford to put his life on that chance— for a complete stranger. In those few moments of violent light, torrential waters, and gasping cries, time moved quickly; overwhelming Shinjitsu’s mind with all that he saw. The death he wanted to happen, and injury his malfunctioning body prevented him from stopping.
The moment the Zealot fell to his knees, clenched hands clutching a gaping wound on a shaking body, time slowed. The splashing of water from knees falling into puddles echoed. Momentary pause, letting the Zealot take in deep cooling breathes as if they would sooth the pain of more than just wounds. Shinjitsu watched muscles in the Kusa ninja’s neck and shoulders grow taut as his heavy head rose. Dark eyes of soft brown covered by hard disgust, and teeth and tongue tipped with venom as words of sickened hate spewed out:
“And to think, I risked my life for you!”
.
“You were going to let me die!”
A hard face void of life and emotions was all that Zealot could see, to that face the words seemed to mean nothing, but they meant something to a hidden face made out of weak human flesh. What could be said to such hateful words? A dysfunctionality of the brain was not an explanation he’d give out, he doubted the stranger would even comprehend it as legitimate reason, but instead nothing more than petty lie of an excuse. Instead, his words would have to point at the other’s fault in their accusations.
“But you are not dead, am I correct?” He said for the first time during this whole fiasco, slowly, ever so slowly he began to approach the wounded Zealot. ”Or did you not have confidence in your own ability to take care of yourself, that you had to call for help for someone that you told to ‘get out of here' ?"
The voice was soft but when the masked marauder spoke, the softness was out shadowed by the asshole factor. Regardless of what he had said or what he had did, Kiyoshi put his life on the line for the mysterious one who did little to help him in return. Hand still at his side, he pulled it to witness the blood. While not seeping in a flow from the wound, the blood still was leaving his body and he needed to handle business before he bled out.
Sticking his hand in the water beneath him, cleansed it of his blood, he slowly climbed to his feet. He was not going to let this hidden figure leave here alive. With a duty placed on him by his village leader, all intruders must be taken into custody. Regardless of the fact he just helped the stranger, he had an obligation and he would follow it until his dying breath. As from his sheath, he pulled his blade and held it before him, reverse grip fashion. Chocolate irises looked at the blank mask that hid mystery, mind over matter began to run through his mind as he slowly progressed towards his opposition.
“Don’t move.” He ordered.
