Disclaimer: The following is not owned by Sasswot2000, nor are they making any money from it's distribution. This is done for fun, not profit.

-

There was always something about seeing a dead body.

Especially one that was shot in the head.

"Pretty going in. Ugly coming out." The ninja said, looking at the shattered remains of the skull that formerly belonged to a guard.

"What's this mean?" Another asked.

"Mean's someone else is here. A senshi, most likely." The first replied, looking at the hole in the head, the hole in the wall behind him, and the hole in the window ahead of him. "A very good one by the look of it."

"Why would there be one?" The third asks.

That causes Aikishi Nakamoto, member of the elite division of the Konohagakure, the Village Hidden in the Leaves, military, ANBU, to grimace in thought. A good question indeed, he thinks to himself. Why would their be a senshi here. Not a guard, he just killed one of his own. An assassin?

"Don't dwell on it too much. We have a job to do, remember?"

And they did have a job to do. Some gangster had a scroll that did not belong in the hands of someone that was not a ninja.

The things anyone could glean from that would be… insurmountable.

It shouldn't take that long. Or be that hard. All they had to do was get to the gangster's study. Then it's just a matter of grab the scroll, kill the gangster, leave.

However, when they opened up the door… what they saw made Nakamoto's heart skip. It was a man, dressed in a slick, fancy slate grey silk suit with blood red pinstripes, a matching slate grey silk hat with blood red band, black and white spats, a blood red silk tie.

However, the thing that was truly horrifying, was the mask the man was wearing. It was a white noh mask, with black lines painted on it, giving the illusion that it was cracked, as if it had stopped a bullet with the bridge of the nose.

The man also had in his left hand a pistol… with which the chin of said gangster rested… his feet dangling a foot or so in the air. In his right, was the scroll.

"Well, if it isn't a bunch of leafnin looking for their silver medal for coming in second place." The man says, almost in a tut-tut manner. "I'm sorry to say that their isn't one. Not this time. Nor ever."

With that, the shot rang out, ending the gangster's life. Another shot… sounded the alarm.

"Have fun." The man says, before racing out of the room.

"I got him…" One of the ANBU said, giving chase to the senshi, before Nakamoto could stop him.

"That moron is going to get himself killed…" He muttered. Before he could give chase however, in busted what was probably the rest of the gangster's guards. They'd… have to be dealt with.

-

Jin Muasashi was a lot of a things. One of them was headstrong. It was… almost ironic that he lasted as long as he did as a ninja, headstrong that he was. And that's why he chased the senshi that had their objective in hand. All the way to the staircase that lead down, the gangster was rich and powerful and arrogant enough to have a castle.

However, what happened next showed that clear thinking won over headstrong stubbornness time and time again, when the senshi hit the railing with a step up leap, flipped over, kicked Muasashi over the railing and followed after him, a vertical pencil drop, head first.

"Sorry kid. Love and war, you know?" And with that… the man opened fired three times. Three hits. And Jin Muasashi was no more.

The man then did was he was planning to do, grab hold of the falling corpse and use it to cushion his fall to the ground. 5 stories. Turned the corpse to jelly, whereas the man was up and a bout once he got his bearings straight. Only to hear foot steps.

"Time to go." And with that, he was gone, making sure to stop by a tree to pick up his rifle. Oh yes. Assassination and thievery. Definitely worth the cash. And he got to show up some ninja. All in a day's work.

-

It took fifteen minutes for Nakamoto and his surviving team mate to clean out the castle and set it ablaze. The both looked at the body of their late team member.

"How did this happen? It was just a senshi. It was just guns…" Nakamoto looked at the younger ninja.

"That is true. It was just guns. But that was not just a senshi. That was Vin DuKair, greatest of the senshi." Nakamoto said to the other, before hefting up Jin's corpse.

"I thought we were supposed to burn them…" the other asks.

"Normally, yes. However, he does not have a bloodline limit, and I owe it to his mother that he have a proper funeral." Nakamoto says.

With that, they're both gone.

-

"I have to admit, you're one tenacious bastard…" Vin said. It was three months later. And once again, he was facing Aikishi Nakamoto. The senshi had already shot off the leafnin's left leg from the knee down. But still… that didn't stop the angered man.

"Coming from you… I'll take that as a compliment…" Nakamoto replied. It takes a special type of crazy to take a sword in it's scabbard and jam it into the bloody and bleeding stump that was your thigh.

"You're welcome." Vin says, calmly and casually walking around. Like he didn't feel the ten senbon he had in his arms. Like he couldn't feel the 4 kunai in his obliques. Like he couldn't feel the 8 shuriken in his back.

Already that fine, slate grey suit with the blood red pinstripes was turning blood red, period.

"We're we after the same prize this time?" Vin adds, looking around at the bodies. 2 leafnin. 3 rocknin. 3 cloudnin. And missingnin from various villages. And various forms of other fighters. From what the senshi could tell, the villages hidden in the Leaves, Rocks, and Clouds wanted what was here. And what was here was guarded by 12 missingnin and miscellenious.

"Maybe." Nakamoto replies. The fight didn't go so well. Not when Vin showed up, at least.

"Really? So you weren't after the Moonstone of Al Hazred? No matter. I have it. You don't." Vin replied, shrugging. "And now, I take you life…"

With that, Vin pulls the trigger.

Click.

"Imagine that. Out of bullets. And, unfortunately, out of time…" Vin says, pointing with the other gun. At the window. Trigger pull. Bang. Smash. "Perhaps we'll see each other again. I doubt it though."

Having said his peace, Vin was gone. As for Nakamoto, without his left leg, it was one hell of a crawl back to the village.

-

It was a few months after DuKair's final confrontation with Aikishi Nakamoto. The S-Ranked assassin thought about loosing the only ninja that was truly a worthy opponent. But it didn't last that long. He had another job to pull. Some poor bastard was going to be a very dead poor bastard.

Which was why he found himself on one of the darker roads from the Fire Country towards the Tea Country. His current employer told him that the mark would have ninja guards.

He just failed to mention that they were genin.

Vin DuKair may have been a bit quick to kill, he freely admitted that. However, he never in his life killed a child. No children. That's the rule.

So he flipped his guns in his hands and, as gently as one could be when dealing with genin, he knocked out the team.

"And now for the mark…" Vin said, moving to kill the old, poor bastard…

Unfortunately, the old poor bastard must have been smarter then he looked. Having hired a few bandits along the road just in case the genin didn't do what they were paid to do.

These of course, Vin had no problem killing. With brutal and familiar ease.

"Sorry about that, my friend. Nothing personal. Business and all." Vin said. Once more he was interrupted. The jounin sensei for the knocked out genin.

"Lot's of interruptions today, aren't there?" Vin says with a sigh to the new comer.

"What can I say… I expected a few ronin… but not one of the only six samurai listed in the Bingo Book…" the new comer replied.

"So… you want an autograph?"

"You're head. Brining your's in will definitely boost the prestige behind the name Uchiha Shizamori." That… caused Vin to turn around.

"An Uchiha? Taking on a team of genin? I must say, I'm shocked. However, this will be a good chance to see how my skills hold up against the Sharingan." A laugh comes from the younger man with dark hair.

"They've already failed. I've study you with them during the fight. I figured… the only way to defeat a demon is with his own art..." Shizamori finishes, kicking up one of Vin's discarded pistols. A bandit had lucked out and kicked it way right after he reloaded the empty weapon.

"Then you best tread softly."

With that said… both combatants charged the other. This was going to be a close in, brutal melee. DuKair's years of using his unique brand of taijutsu and kenjutsu versus the unerring power behind the sharingan wheel mirror eye.

It started out simple enough. Uchiha pointed the gun he had in his hands right in DuKair's face. Point blank.

It wasn't a block… or a parry that DuKair did. It was more like forcibly moving the arm in such a way that when the gun did go off, it was off to the left by three feet.

This also set DuKair up for his shot… to be counted in the same way.

At the same time, the other disarmed his opponent, and swung their pistols to the other's face… only to have his aim thrown off by the other. Two shots for the Uchiha so far. He may have completely copied the style down, but he had nothing of the patient that a true senshi had. Especially in this sort of situation.

That's how it went. Aim at the other's face, trying to get that shot to end the bout, only to have the other throw it off, allowing any fired bullet to hit something else harmlessly. Or, they would disarm the other completely. At the same time. The guns passed between hands several times in that bout.

Finally, after a minute and a half, DuKair finally gained the upper hand. In this style of taijutsu/kenjutsu, actually skill beat out strange genetic quirks. A final disarm on DuKair's part, then he shot Uchiha in the foot. Then the other. And a hand for good measure.

The next shot that rang out was for the mark. No warning on that one. And so, Vin DuKair took his leave.

Or rather he would have if the fallen Uchiha didn't attack once more.

Three shots rang out. Lung. Heart. Lung.

"Shizamori-sensei!" That… exclamation caused the assassin to turn. One of the genin had came too… and found himself staring down that cold, steely barrel as well.

"When you're friends wake… you'll take your sensei's body and leave. Am I clear?"

The child found, some how, a bit of courage when he didn't back down.

"I said… am I clear!" That was followed with the gun firing. That was enough to get the boy to cow.

"Yes…" Was the small reply.

"Good."

And with that, Vin DuKair was truly gone.

There was also a bit of irony, however. Had Uchiha Shizamori not have made the mistake of throwing his life away, he would have made it back to Konoha a day after the Uchiha Massacre.

He dodged one bullet, only to be felled by another, so to speak.

-

It had been two years since Vin DuKair, now trading under his real name of Paul St. John, retired. He didn't need to kill for money anymore. It was over. He was more then wealthy enough to own and operate his own little cafe.

And that Konoha air really was the sweetest breeze he ever breathed.

Oh, people would have heart attacks if they knew who he was. Ninja would have already taken him to see the Hokage, and then to the Daimyo. He never feared capture.

After all, they could only kill him once.

But he didn't think on that. What he thought on was that Haruno Hana was going to be coming in soon.

Which meant that he was going to get his best customer for hot chocolate on these cold mornings. Little Miss Sakura.

With the sound of the bell, the two had entered.

"Ah, Mrs. Hana, I have you're order right here." Paul said to the woman as she came to the counter. Every week it was the same. A dozen danishes.

"And for Little Miss Sakura, one piping mug of hot chocolate." He said to the little girl, handing her a white mug filled with a frothy liquid to the girl.

"Thank you, St. John-san." The ten year old replied as she drank from the mug. "Mmmm… so delicious…" She murmured. That got a chuckle from the older man.

"So… what do you say about her learning some cooking from me, eh Hana?" Paul asks the woman. They had discussed it a few times over the past month.

"I'm not sure. It's up to her really. But, she's got enough to do as it is, what with the academy."

"True. And they're already going to show her one way to get to man's heart through their stomach, I doubt that she'd want to learn another and end up confusing the two. Could get messy." And that got a chuckle from both adults.

However, that wasn't the last that was heard about it. About two years later, in the final year of her academy, Sakura had agreed to work for St. John. It was cleaning, mostly.

"Not just the café, but my apartment as well." He said. And it was a mess. The apartment, not the café.

It was during one of those days, that she was dusting the room, that she bumped the book case, causing a book to fall out. With a click.

The book case slid back, split, and moved to the side. Revealing to the 12 year old something… that wasn't quite from her nightmares, but it was enough that she knew what it was. And that it was bad.

A fine slate gray silk suit with blood red pinstripes. A slate gray hat with a blood red band. A white noh mask with black lines painted on it, giving the illusion that it stopped a bullet.

But that wasn't what really startled her. The pair of exitus-pattern combat pistols. They were illegal in the country of fire. Hell, it was against the law to look at a picture of exitus pistols.

And here she was, staring at a pair of them.

She jumped a foot in the air when she heard that St. John had returned. She scrambled to close the book case up, make it look like it wasn't disturbed. Finish what she was doing, and bam. She was gone. Nearly knocked the man over as she left.

It took some convincing of her mother that they didn't need those danishes any more. That her dad was a bit pudgy and needed to diet. She found herself in her room, just the same. Sitting on the bed. Clutching a pillow.

"What do I do?" She mumbled to herself. She knew about Vin DuKair. They may not have taught about him at the academy, but she did enough study on her own to know about him. Only six non-ninja were in the Bingo Book. And she had been going to one of them for the last four years, drinking hot chocolate.

She couldn't tell anyone. Who's to say that he wouldn't know. That he wouldn't figure it out?

Who's to say that he didn't know that she knew already… and was planning on killing her.

She stopped… and took in a deep breath. She was having paranoid delusions. And those would get her no where.

"No death in the last five years has been attributed to Vin DuKair… he's… retired. That's what." She says to herself. "Then why keep the suit… maybe… it's to remind him of what he used to be? Ninja's do that all the time, when they can't work any more… yeah. That's it. Nothing to worry about Sakura. He's not going to kill you in your sleep…" Her voice trailed off, before she got up and set up a series of kunai traps pointed at her window. "Just in case…"

Satisfied, she dropped the subject. It was easy to forget about the tick that you couldn't see.

However, unlike most parasites, Paul St. John, nay, Vin DuKair would prove himself to be an invaluable weapon to the defense of Konoha.