Title: Mouroutaru

Rating: K+ (For violence, just in case)
Genre: General

Disclaimer & Info: "Shinobi" and "Hotsuma" belongs to Overworks/Sega. This is a one-shot fanfic on Hotsuma fighting the possessed Oboro. He's one of the coolest avengers ever. It's also my first "Shinobi" fic. Enjoy :)


Tokyo, Japan – a ruined labyrinth

Within the depths of destruction

War is waged.

Under no circumstances, on both sides, can there be hesitation.



(Meaning "to be obscure" in Japanese)

Upon one of Tokyo's less elevated buildings, someone stood collectedly.

A breeze sounded out; a scarlet scarf rippled.

One body flickered briefly within his vision, and the great Akujiki was brandished through shadow. Two blades of steel crashed hard into each other, throwing out an orange spark in between the anonymous warrior and the young Oboro Leader. For a slight moment he caught a glimpse of two black eyes, which belonged to his brave and bold enemy. They were in sword lock; Akujiki shuddered while its owner pushed back. Such strength was amazing, from just a sole enemy with a matching body stature like that of the prestigious Leader. It was a kind of strength parallel to a Hellspawn ogre perhaps; Hotsuma had seen, and killed, many of Hiruko's ugly scum that appeared in various shapes and sizes.

No matter what, there wouldn't be any exceptions, especially not with an inferior. Still it was just one stubborn enemy that Hotsuma had to smite, just one. The enemy was desperate so it seemed; he, she, or its companions lie literally in pieces scattered across the rooftop.


Duties are positioned far before human feelings.

One of many Morals of the Oboro

Continue to be obscure

Remain hidden.

Register your point, your burning anger

With your unconventional skills

That is all


It was astonishing to see the corpses of the Oboro clan standing and walking around the city, not to mention his amazing pets proficient in fencing.

However, Hotsuma wouldn't hesitate. Not for a slight bit, but again the enemy he faced was a tough one. Akujiki, the genius blade passed down through many generations of Oboro leaders, would not succumb easily. It was hungry for more evil, for more negative forces that vitalized Hotsuma's enemies. The demonic piece of steel rended two thirds of the corpse's own weapon before taking out the holder itself. A splash of red colored the night air; the Oboro corpse spun then collapsed onto the roof in half. Sensing no other enemy, Hotsuma slid his blade back into his scabbard and took a moment to regain his tracking capacity and formulate a plan.

He moved his gaze about. To the right, demons perhaps in excess of ten or twenty floated above the eastern side of the fallen capital.


Why speak?

Don't feel guilt

They are being used

They are enemy, but not by choice

At best, minimize their pain

The barriers of a shinobi's missions are many

They are meant to be passed through

Reach the core

Accomplish the primary objective


With fluid motion Akujiki swished left and right through the swarm of flying hellspawn as Hotsuma bounded off from wall to wall, avoiding projectile fire. He left another Oboro corpse crumpled behind him near a curb. "Forgive me…" He breathed.

Hotsuma was not yet twenty years of age, and the handsome burden of Leadership was weighting greatly upon his shoulders. Some questioned him, his wisdom, strength, even though he slew the mighty Moritsune. Of course there would be others that would trust him in his youth.

Revenge was difficult, and the only option left. To see such destruction upon Tokyo, to see the Oboro clan revived as terrorists and used against their will, the young Leader was resolved. Lacking a heir, fighting and killing the sorcerer was just unquestionably sensible.

Hiruko watched from a distance, smirking, under the impression that his most dangerous adversary was "quite angry". He'd truthfully know…soon, very soon.

Homura, Hakuraku, Shirogane, Akagane, Kongou, Kizami-sensei, everyone…

Hotsuma had recollected their faces for a brief moment, before ascending the buildings with his feet. His green enacting role as leader had compelled him to pursue an ambitious, and justified path of vengeance.


Endurance, pride and skill

The highest talent


Do not be aggressive

Or you'll be read

MGW (Jan 14, 2006)