Of Blood and Bone
Written: 2-12-'06
The masks are smooth and light and white as snow, baked in fire and frozen in ice, blank eyes seeing their creator before anything else in the world. The materials used to make them are a secret, like many other things in the world of shinobi, and entrusted to one person only. That person's life revolves around those facts, that secrecy; it is what makes his very existence. He lives to cake his hands in white dust and carve the faces of animals from the forbidden substance.
The last step. He bites his thumb, ripping off skin that has calloused over too many times to count, and draws it across the face of the ANBU mask, leaving a red streak. A dab here, there, and it is done. Ready for use.
A true killer's mask must, after all, be made of bone and blood.