--Orochi--

achio was on his way to his home,after witnessing some rather peculiar occurrences that occurred many hours ago. The time now was about two in the morning, but the things that were saw and the words that were said weren't forgotten. No, they wouldn't be gone for a long while, not until the end of this was seen and had unfolded how Sachio intended. How such a thing was supposed to end in the mind of Sachio was one of two ways. But he'd continue to play with the thoughts once he got home, it wasn't safe to walk out in the streets of Sunagakure so late at night that it was the morning and not be fully focused on one's surroundings. Given he lived in a more poverty stricken area, not poor, but not well off, crime was frequent and small alliances of men, gangs, weren't something foreign to the inhabitants. A carton of orange juice was gripped in his idle left hand and a kunai was in his right, hidden by his kimono sleeve as he walked the streets approaching his apartment home. Four rooms, a bathroom, bedroom, living room, and a studio for working on art. It was originally a bedroom, but Sachio had no need for another since he never invited people over his home or even told people where he lived at that. With him being a shinobi, now of Chunin rank, him living in such an area would be odd and unexpected in the eyes of many and that's how he liked it.

"Voltaire Hayashi . . ." Sachio was sure to remember the name and was plotting on this man's fate while he painted what impression the scene had left on his twisted soul. He was now in his studio, the doors to his home being closed and locked and with the studio being a room that was inside the house and not near the exterior there were no windows to the outside. The door was also nearly fully closed, squeaky little fucker, so no light crept out from Sachio's home into the area to let people know he was awake or even home at that. But it was so late, who wouldn't be asleep?

Back to the painting. It was a Cobra coiled around the bodies of two warriors. These warriors were the man Voltaire and the boy Satsujin. The bind wasn't tight however, it wasn't even touching them. Sachio was the cobra in his eyes and the two that were in the center of this potential clutch were the two named ninja of Sunagakure. Both with their heads potentially on the chopping block for the act of murder and the treasonous act that consisted of no consequential actions against a murder. The thing about the cobra was that it was actually composed of many many fuinjutsu matrixes. This made the serpent tedious to manifest onto paper, but Sachio could get practice drawing matrixes as he painted. It was a light exercise he did with projects he probably wouldn't be selling, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't sell a few good looking pieces with seals imbedded in them. The man had truly fucked up and with this information, Sachio had the man in his clutches, the boy as well, but Sachio didn't really care for him, at least as far as exploitation went. With dirt on a Jounin, Sachio truly had a face card, perhaps even an ace in his hand in the card game known as life. There was also rumor of some tournament involving ninja from the village competing for a spot in the council or something like that. Sachio's skin crawled in excitement at the thought of having the power over one of these while staying hidden in the shadows.

"Boy oh boy." Sachio found it amusing, staring at the image of the snake with the warriors that is. Both of the men were shaking hands coming to an agreement, while the serpent of death unknowingly loomed over them with its tail forming a close perimeter around them ready to squeeze down and strangle them to death at any moment. But what if his plan wouldn't work? Sachio began to play another scenario out.

What if the man died, such a thing was inevitable in the world and death was always at the door in the lives of shinobi. Perhaps Sachio should report to the Council now. He mulled over the thought as he continued with his piece. In the event he could prove the man guilty of such a treasonous act Sachio could be moderately awarded with his death, along with the boy's death, Satsujin. The Chunin had been studying the art of puppetry as of late and read of a forbidden art called Hitokugutsu. This being Human Puppetry. Or on another plane Sachio could have Volataire Hayashi blackmailed for his actions of treason against Sunagakure. The boy, Satsujin, was barely of Sachio's concerns. In the arrogant man's mind this piece on the board was easily disposable, but yet he was so powerful. He had no real strength in the physical realm with his skills, but he had power in how this would play out. Given he'd be thrown under the chopping block with Voltaire in the case of Sachio reporting to the council, he'd obvious pled innocent right? It would be Sachio's word, the only witness, against he word of a Genin and a Jounin, a Medical Shinobi at that. Things certainly wouldn't play out in his favor, he'd need proof. He'd need that useless piece on the board on his side or at least in his possession. He just needed him long enough to get the truth about his murder confessed to ears other than his, Sachio needed numbers and authority on his side.

He took a sip from the carton of orange juice, cursing in his mind. He should have killed the man on the spot. "Treason is no joke and you'll learn that may it be sooner or later." He shook his head side to side, putting the orange juice carton down careful to spill none of the juice.
Word Count: 1,027