It had almost been three weeks since Vizier and Nibui ventured out of town with no form of contact with the rest of Blackbox; the remaining few were beginning to worry and question their position within the organisation. The escapees remained quiet and lurked around Hokorigakure causing little trouble – they had to let the government awareness levels die down, and without the leading forces of Blackbox; they were running low on money and drugs.
However, for them the celebrations did not end here.
The new base was slightly more secluded than the previous one which is now under investigation, and this gave them a bit more freedom.
“Grab me another bottle of Sake” a raspy voice commanded from a leather sofa that curves around a medium-sized gambling table.
Blackbox had invited friends and prostitutes over at their trap house. The atmosphere was thick with smoke from burning joints and the scent of alcohol was heavy in the air.
An attractive blonde woman made her way across the wooden floorboards with the desired alcoholic drink in her hand.
“Deal me—“ he was quickly interrupted when a white glass bottle swooped before his eyes and crashed on the table.
A moment of silence dawned between them - the gambler took this time and adjusted the blunt to the corner of his lips. He turned to the prostitute and blew the cannabis smoke into her face.
“Fuck you, Konohuro!” she yelled out and took a step backwards; her face crunched up with disgust as her hands began to flap in her face.
His mouth widened with a deep chuckle; he was callous and took his membership with Blackbox for granted and as a permit to mess with people.
Konohuro was not native to the Hidden Dust, he was born and raised a warrior from the Hidden Volcano, and therefore never fully complied with Hokorigakure regulations – he would often get in trouble with locals, but always found a way out.
“Fam, Konohuro, relax—“ a young voice called out from the bar before the wooden entrance door burst open, silencing everyone in the room and attracting attention.
Nibui stepped through with Vizier tight on his trail.
Every face began to gleam with hope and excitement when they recognized their leader and realized he made it home safe… but something was off.
Kunoichi began to make their way towards them and men spoke up from behind.
“Look who finally decided to show up” Konohuro could be heard in the distance.
Nibui was the odd one out; he had a serious tone, barging through and pushing away prostitutes who began clinging and grasping onto him with drinks still in their hands.
He kissed his teeth in annoyance and raised his katana forth to clear the clustered lane.
“Move, man”
Konohuro stood up and leaned against the wall next to him, waiting for Nibui to walk through the middle.
“What’s going on, bruv?” he questioned in confusion.
“Move over” Nibui shook his blade towards the direction of the inner corner of the sofa, but he didn’t look up. Everything seemed a bit too much for him right now, especially after what he had been through.
Konohuro shifted through the leather, enough to provide space for both returned shinobi. He could sense that they weren’t feeling it tonight, and he could assume why that was the case.
He was a blind shinobi with long white hair. He lost his vision at a young age and is now geared up with a black ribbon around his head; his other senses excelled at their profession – he could almost perfectly visualize the exact location of objects through echo-location and thermal radiation.
Three of them were mutually sceptical about engaging a discussion.
Nibui’s tanned hand glided across the table and picked up a rolled blunt. He stared at it for a moment and turned to Konohuro.
“It’s Indica” he announced.
Nibui nodded with acceptance before placing it in his mouth and sparked the tip.
He inhaled deeply before releasing the residue through his nose.
“Where’s Kimoto?”
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Topic: Chapter 5 - Party Time (Read 6173 times)
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