Irui remained focused on the men out front, watching the handler speak to another customer. The guards were cycled out by a new pair, after the patron proceeded through the doors. As much as he tried, it was difficult to block out the noise and smells of the city night. Cigarettes and alcohol were more than abundant, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Ryuko remained at his side, stoic and commenting on the situation.
She shifted abruptly, and Irui turned to look down at her hand. There in her palm was a small, vaguely wet, turtle with bulbous eyes and a patterned shell. “This is Mozo.” She said, “He’ll be providing you support while you’re inside.”
The turtle offered a stiff greeting, and Irui smiled back, and clasped the turtle in both hands. Mozo wiggled between the two of them, and Irui briefly held the turtle in his arms, close to his chest, feeling his weight. He was a small creature for sure, but carried an unexpected heft to him. He looked down at the turtle, then back at Ryuko, then back again.
“You’re not going to like this,” He said flatly, and twisted around to open his weapons pouch. “But I’m keeping you back here, in case things go wrong and you need to make an exit.” Without another word or hesitation, he fitted the turtle into the pouch, then dexterously pulled out the scrolls and tags, and fitted them into spare pockets. He dropped his cloak over the pouch, concealing the turtle fully.
Irui half-turned back to the orange and red lights.
“I know his face and name….” He thought aloud, scanning the front of the building for more personnel. It was a straight forward objective-- find the target in the brothel, and don’t get caught. So why did this mission make him so nervous? He looked back to Ryuko, and pulled his hood forward, and stepped towards the brothel.
He slipped through the layers of the crowd, with his chakra signature suppressed. Immediately he would vanish from the senses of any lurking Sensory-Types in the area. As he moved, he untied the headband around his neck, and slipped it into his pants pocket. Irui stopped suddenly, and looked back to Ryuko, suddenly unsure of the situation. What should he say? How was he going to explain why a sixteen year old, a minor in most nations, was there as a customer? His eyes darted from the priestess to the crowd, bobbing from face to face hurriedly.
Irui crossed his hands together, and strung his fingers through a sequence of handseals. He squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck it.
A puff of smoke enveloped him, not quite so subtle, but he’d hoped the evening revelry would cover the jutsu.
“Good evening sir!” a wrinkled old man, with a white beard exclaimed, approaching the bouncer. “I’m… Maro Mikiri!”
“M-Maro… Mikiri?” The bouncer repeated, pulling out a small clipboard. “I don’t recall seeing a Maro…”
“Yes, yes Maro. Great Uncle of Ishi Mikiri”
Mozo didn’t seem too surprised when Irui snatched him out of the air. If anything the boys lack of reaction to seeing a flying turtle of all things was more startling then being handled. Just what had the young man seen in his comparatively short life to be so nonplussed at such a strange sight?
“Need an exit? Boy I’m a summon, I can go back home whenever I want.” The turtle complained gruffly as it was stuffed into the pouch. It’s main job was to reverse summon the master in this case Ryuko if they got into a pinch which he could do well enough from inside the container even if he would have preferred riding on the boy’s shoulder.
Ryuko for her part hesitated for a moment as Irui looked back at her. Should she offer him a parting word of advise or two? Ultimately she decided to hold her silence. He didn’t really seem to be responding to her enthusiasm so far so what good would it do trying to prep him up even more with more words about how he could do it or that she believed in him.
Ultimately this was his mission. Trying to helicopter over him wasn’t going to be doing Irui any favors. If she actually believed in him like she had said earlier then she was just going to have to trust in him to get the job done. It wasn’t a big issue if he made a mistake or two or even messed up the whole thing since from the beginning she could have easily done everything herself.
She hadn’t lied when she said it’s be problematic for her to enter a place like that but really that was only if she was caught. The security was good but at her level they weren’t anything she couldn’t sneak by if she really really wanted to. The only real reason she’d brought Irui along was because this was a good learning opportunity for him. The perfect type of mission for a wanna be spy to cut his teeth on.
Her lips curled up into a half smile as she watched Irui transform. Some would say not to try that. Obviously their security was good enough to see though such a basic disguise but it was precisely because they could see though it that made taking that extra step so brilliant.
“Hmmm. Still not seeing a Maro on the list but if you’re a Mikiri it won’t be a problem.” said the bouncer as he double checked the list and made a quick note on it. Adjusting a fancy silver monocle he had over his right eye he put a hand on Irui’s shoulder and began to lead him towards the door. Stopping only to quietly whisper something into the seemingly old man’s ears before allowing him into the building.
“No need for the henge kid. I know you must be nervous this being your first visit and all but we’re very discrete, and we don’t judge either. Welcome to Paradise, the most exclusive gentlemen’s club in all of the land of lightning” said the bouncer with a grin as he pushed the door open and held it for Irui.
Ironically, by playing up his nervousness and transforming Irui had actually made himself seem less suspicious to the guard who was used to seeing those kinds of antics from the club's younger clitental.