Solo training

Ningyo worked with the mind file that Dr. Morpheus had given her. He had given her certain exercises to do, to prepare the mind for programming. She was told to do different mnemonic anchoring exercises, similar to keeping one eye forward and one eye crossed. These exercises, Morpheus explained, would make her a genius.

Ningyo didn't actually consciously remember all of the information, the mind file worked so that Dr. Morpheus could access the information when a certain mind file was pulled up. "You have infinite space on your mental hard drive." Ningyo could hear him say in a voice that echoed through the virtual labyrinth of her psyche.

Ningyo lstened to a clear pink tape of cybernetic drum and bass vaporwave songs that Dr. Morpheus had given her. The songs seemed to activate a 3D palace inside her own mind. Within the pictureplane maze of her psyche lie the mind files, rotating around a central carousel.

Not anybody could access these mind files however, it was necessary to use the proper codes to bypass the amnesia barriers of the various personalities that were in possession of the information. This served as a double bind if classified information were to be written on her "hard drive".

For now Ningyo listened to the hypnotic echoing voice of Dr. Morpheus on the tape as he fragmented the mind file. She floated within the cityscape of her cognitive architecture. A neon world of isolation.

"execute path Anastasia-93" Ningyo navigated the neon maze until she found the liquid mirror with the pink haired version of herself. This  version whispered something in her ear that she immediately forgot. "execute path Charly 54" again rode the cybernetic pathway to the mirror of herself with blonde hair and dark eyeliner.

"Remember Ningyo, you are a slave of Konoha, a tool used to enforce the will of Konoha. You will fulfill all assignments given, unceasingly without question."

Ningyo repeated her mantra, the one written deeply into her core unconscious, to be a tool in the service of Konoha. Her allegiance was secured by deep brain entrainment and technological hypnosis.            
 
Ningyo travelled her mental architecture, vast memory palaces that housed the programming needed for her to further Konoha's agenda of political domination. These included alters for assassination, seduction, information retrieval, and codes to protect the personalities from dangerous subroutines.

"When you wake up from this sleep Charly, you will forget everything I have told you. You will continue to be Ningyo, and live the ordinary life as a member of you village and a member of the Uchiha clan." Morpheus' voice flickered and modulated. " as you hear the number 4... you will prepare to awake, stretching your arms and yawning... with the count of 3... you are forgetting and returning to normal consciousness 2... you are feeling alert, and 1... you are awake."

Ningyo sat up in bead and took off her earphones sleepily, stretching her arms and yawning as she woke. She scratched beneath her eye and looked at her alarm clock as she prepared for another day of training. "What a beautisul day. I love Konoha."

Ningyo practiced her combinations. She performed the Snake and Rat handseals, for Demonic Illusion; Hell's Viewing, and then began running forwards. As she was moving forward she quickly performed the Dog and Tiger seal and summoned two Haze Clones. She then threw two shuriken, and allowed her clones to place a diversionary attack before using Body Flicker and striking the practice dummy with her kunai.

She was attempting to string jutsus together to be able to attack effectively. Her adrenaline grew as she continued to practice, making her motions quicker and her senses sharper. If this were real combat she would have been just as prepared.

She tried again, conjuring two Haze Clones, and then throwing several wire manipulated shuriken that struck and bound the dummy from strange angles. She used body flicker again, this time flashing behind the dummy and hitting it with a backstroke strike of her kunai .

Despite her modest skills and her beginner jutsus she practiced as seriously as she was able, attempting to push past her limit. The only way she would be able to grow was developing attack patterns with the jutsu she had.

She body flickered away while grabbing three shuriken between her fingers. As soon as she felt them in her hand, she flicked them in a dexterous flash at the dummy. They spun through the air and stuck themselves in the wood with a satisfying clunk. She threw a kunai which unravelling the wire it was attached to with a twisting spool sound. Using her elbow to bend her part of the wire and navigating her chakra through it she was able to command the kunai to wrap around the wooden practice dummy.

Then she performed the Haze clone jutsu and prepared to go all out. She summoned six clones that moved towards the dummy quickly, so fast that they kicked up a breeze. They struck one after the other with crisscrossing slashes. Finally Ningyo body flickered to close the distance again, spinning with a kick and a momentum driven kunai slash that finally broke the dummies head from it's body.  

She willed her clones to disappear and they exploded into the typical smoke. She had been practicing all day and now was breathing heavily, her chakra depleted to it's lower limit. Her mouth remained open and she wiped beads of sweat onto her sleeve. It was beggining to become dark and so she decided to head home.

She walked home as the night-time world began to take the stage. Then shops closed as she travelling with her weapons gear down the streets. She climbed the stairs and arrived at her families' apartment.  

Opening the door, she set down her gear and sat for meditation. Tonight in her meditation, she could sense some strange feeling in her circulatory centers, a dark chakra that she wasn't sure if she had experienced this way before. It was as if something inside of her was awakening. It felt as thought it would culminate into something. She kept meditating. She opened her eyes and looked at the Uchiha symbol on her parent's ancestral altar.

"It's time to sleep Ningyo" said her father who walked into the room patting her on the head "you'll have another day of training tomorrow."

Ningyo trudged up the stairs to her mom and dad's apartment after another long day of training. Over her shoulder she carried her crossbow and weapons gear. Carrying her gear to and from practice alone was a sort of trial. Her entire body was covered in sweat as she drug each foot up the staircase.

She pushed open the apartment door. Her father Onmitsu, sat at the table. "Good evening Ningyo" there was a long silence. "Hey Dad." "How was practice today?" Ningyo let her tools slump at the door. "Just another day Dad, tomorrow I'll have to work just as hard." said Ningyo resolutely.

"Ningyo, I know you have alot of sensei, teaching you different aspects of shinobi life, but I want you to know that your father I still have things to teach you. Things that only I and your mother can teach you, as Uchiha." her father said. Ningyo listened intently. "One day you'll be a strong shinobi and you'll sent to complete your first missions." Ningyo nodded, her father put his head in his hands. "I don't think anything will prepare you for the things that you'll see out there in the field, the horrors of war that are beyond my ability to communicate to you." said Onmitsu.

By now Ningyo had sat at the table, somewhere she heard a whimpering. "Dad, what was that noise?" asked Ningyo. "Ningyo, a moment is going to come, in a sense you could say the moment is already here, where our ability to make the decision between living and dying, betwen killing and being killed will be tested."

"The ordained moment, when we will make this decision is always hovering over our heads, and it often arrives in a split second" her father paused "and when that crucial moment comes for you, I want you to be ready, you will not hesitate." Ningyo was growing more concerned, not exactly understanding. "Dad.... what are you trying to say." her father paused "Maybe the only way is to show you" said Onmitsu.

He went into his room and shuffled around. Ningyo could hear the whimpering intensify. Oh God, please don't let it be true thought Ningyo. Her father emerged from the room with a carboard box and set it on the table. "Being a perfect shinobi means sacrificing everything you love, you can never hesitate, it means starving our weakness until we eradicate it and never hesitating to take life, in the blink of an eye for the completion of the mission."

Ningyo became scared. "Ningyo, I want you to open the box." Ningyo moved a cold hand slowly and opened a flap on top of the cardboard box. Inside she saw two scared shivering tear filled eyes staring back at her. They were the eyes of her lovable dog, Toto.

Her father handed her a kunai and looked at her intensely. "What?" said Ningyo "Ningyo, honey..." he father paused "Obey your father." Ningyo shook holding the kunai in both hands, Toto shook also "I don't understand Dad" her father grabbed her hand over Ningyo's hand and raised it over the table. "Dad no!" using her own hands he shoved the kunai down and stabbed Toto. Dog blood smeared on the table and Toto let out a cry. NIngyo pulled out the kunai and the dog still whimpered softly.

Tears softly began rolling down Ningyo's face. "... put him out of his misery Ningyo." Ningyo sobbed uncontrollably, she raised the knife and grabbed her bleeding dog by the scruff of the neck, with tear filled eyes she slit the dog's throat mechanically, as she had trained one hundred times before.

Her eyes glowed a deep red.  

Onmitsu sighed "Get back in your cage Ningyo." she acquiesced crawling back into her kennel. Ningyo could hear the locking of the cage door. Her father grabbed the dog and threw him in a burlap sack. Nngyo heard the reverberating footsteps as he trudged down the stairs to the street curb. Lifting the can of a garbage bin he threw the burlap sack into the trash.

Ningyo sat in her cage, arms arond her knees, her one friend, her one companion was gone. Now she was completely alone, and a darkness engulfed her. The world around her seemed to be bathed in a red murderous glow and Ningyo knew she had a heart because it was breaking.

Ningyo stood before an arc of targets. "Sharingan!" she said, her eyes flashing red. A singular tomoe rotated around her pupil. Vision through the Sharingan was a clear red, reminiscent of blood, and passion. She threw her usual kunai and shuriken with ease, feeling satisfied by the static thuds that reverberated from the targets as they struck bullseyes. The objects in her visual range appeared more clearly, and the outlines were more crisp and precise.

She drew the weapons and threw them more rapidly as the projectiles splintered the wood and knocked closely against the knives still embedded in the bullseyes. The weapons seemed to arc and curve as they found their homes, the sharingan definitely helped her training speed, it made things possible that would not have been possible with normal vision.

Her face however, was a mask of emotionless indifference. Her eyes only cared for the targets. She did a controlled spin, drawing kunai. Then a somersault flip, releasing the knives while aerially upside down. She did another spin releasing the knives in another direction, before landing. Had time appeared to have slowed slightly? Or was it just because everything was coming in so clearly? The kunai landed in the red of the bullseye.

Her reaction times and acuity with the sharingan messed up her timing a little bit. While Ningyo was still able to practice her technique, the sharingan trained at only this level made it more difficult. I understand, the sharingan is something that also requires training and heightened control. she thought. She looked at her arms, and a burning blue aura emanated from them. She considered that this must be an impression of her chakra.

She retrieved the weapons and tried again, the sheer sound of metal cutting through air could be heard as Ningyo quickly unleashed her arsenal of thrown projectiles, her hands moving in a blur and the rest of her body catatonically still. Her hands shifted from pocket to holster to throw and back, in mechanical rehearsed motions, memorized where she could grab her weapons. With a click a weapon appeard from an automatic loader and was thrown. Her sharingan glowed red Again! she thought.

Ningyo tempered the fire of her anger with devotion, the pursuit of a flawless technique, and the fleeting satisfaction of accuracy. After a while she released her sharingan, her eyes returning to a simple black. There was a small effort in maintaining her new vision that she would have to grow accustomed to.

It was the same routine. Wake up, go to the convenience store, do 100 sit ups. Get a carton of milk. NIngyo disassembled and reassembled her crossbow. She sharpened all of her knives and throwing stars and looked over all of her equipment. The street below looked the same through the scope mounted on the crossbow. The individual lives of it's pedestrians so distant and ephemeral.

And this life, the one tempered into something else through training, what was this? Was it not also sculpted in ozymandius' wake? Ningyo could hear the sound of an insect buzzing. If she concentrated, she could hear the sounds of motion, and the gentle murmurs of conversation through the apartment complex and into the street. She was alone again, In fact, and felt more alone than usual.

She sharpened a knife diligently.

Ningyo knew that the new missions at the administration office were counterfeit. They would do more to dull her skills edge than to temper it. And her sense of honor and patriotism, her naïve childlike duty to protect Konoha and it's citizens, that was the only thing left keeping her mind glued together. She ran the knife through her hand dexterously, flipping it between her digits.

All of those little intrigues that made up the sum total of a pedestrian life weren't of any use to her. She was made for, and was working for a higher purpose. What that was she wasn't exactly sure of, but it seemed destined to include violence.

For now, the mundane toil of practice, the target range, the analytical training, the familiarity with her tools, this would be the habit that gave her feelings continuity. Some people had hobbies, all that Ningyo had was work. Within the simplicity of such preparation was hidden, presumably, the profundity of it. In fact the more simple, the less assuming, the more second nature.

Ningyo held up her black tactical undervest, a sort of organized mess of spools of wire attached to mechanical kunai loaders. Smokebombs and shuriken armed and stowed, explosive tape within reach. It was organized by utility, and while it wasn't perhaps the most convenient, Ningyo used it because it worked. She had streamlined the design, to make everything easier to reach swiftly, and give her more ease of mobility.

Obviously, when quickly drawing all sorts of weapons, her equipment, suit, etc. should be as much like a second skin as possible. Ningyo slipped into the undervest, whipping a coat over this to disguise all of the equipment. To the outsider she would appear unsuspicious.

Ningyo awoke, she went to the store and got milk, did 100 sit ups. Dr. Morpheus said all of her instructions were to be found in the crossword section of the newspaper in ciphertext. Sometimes these messages were rather banal, but Ningyo knew that the training was also in the solving of the ciphers which was very difficult.

Her instructions were to study classical shogi and western chess. When she had finished her day at the target range, she stopped by the library on her way home. Ningyo had an intuition that the books on chess theory would help her with the encryption problems that Morpheus was training her to solve.

She had learned that military intelligence was a game of picking up on the small ques in things hidden from common sense. In her short time, at the academy, in her work with Konoha Intelligence, and as a Genin, she absorbed all that her naïve adolescent mind had allowed. Even this much, had ignited the spark of inspiration by which the method, the general theory, the golden paved road of mind-games by which Ningyo could take the first steps.

She had learned that an acrostic was a hidden message within the rows of phrases or poetry, that when added altogether could make a name or date. The knight in western chess moved in an L-shape. That 81 squares made up the Shogi board.

The shinobi world ran and relied on simple technologies, and for this reason simple organic keys and codes were used. The work must all be done in the shinobi's head. It was important for getting instructions to operatives in the field, protecting information that was discovered, and eventually in counterintelligence applications such as breaking enemy codes and feeding false or disinformation.

On both ends, the agents had keys, which were used to generated encrypted text. It was best to make the encrypted text mean something intelligible also, so as to mislead the interceptors. Using this basic formula, a chess game itself could become the means of passing information secretly. Pieces and playing cards used to signify real life threats and enemy operatives.

Ningyo read that simple symbols could also be used, in the motif of a business design (operating as a cover business) or hung in the window of a home, indicating a safe house. These simple symbols could be used by both allied and enemy networks, and it was important to have cursory symbol literacy.

She read on until she reached mathematical formula too complex, Euclidean algorithms, sets based on prime numbers, encryption techniques more elaborate than sudoku puzzles she was used to. Eventually, in mental exhaustion, her face collapsed in her text books.

Ningyo meditated as the simple incense wafted past. Before her on the small shrine, sat the red and white Uchiha emblem. This wasn't a form of ancestor worship, but a simple acknowledgement of the Uchiha lineage and current. Once done, Ningyo arose and walked down to the convenience store. She smiled a faint smile as the shopkeeper attempted his friendly banter. She purchased a carton of milk and a newspaper.

She climbed the stairs back up to her apartment door, entered, and set the things on the table. She used an E-Track strap and tied it down to mattress, fastening it as the mattress squeezed. Hooking her feet through the strap she counted out 100 sit ups.

She sat at the table. drinking her milk and reading the newspaper. The crossword code was a combination of the shade of squares around the box and the letter in the box, equaling to a new number or letter. Ningyo wasn't given the key to the code in a book but required to memorize it. If the code was ever updated she would be briefed at Konoha Intelligence.

Ningyo worked out the crossword for today. It said that she was going to work on keeping a route and practicing for tailing or being followed. Ningyo had a route worked out, besides what she had already done. It usually looked like; apartment > convenience store > training ground > target range > apartment. This route when mapped out would make a little loop. The idea of re-routing was to constantly shift and update your route, so that you couldn't be expected to regularly be anywhere if tailed. Ningyo realized that she went to the store pretty regularly at the same time, so to make up for that, she would either need to pick different times or different stores to go to.

Today's crossword provided her with a predetermined route for the training exercise courtesy of Control (Morpheus). The route did stop by the gym and target range, accommodating for her normal training habits. She put on her supply vest beneath a coat and set out.

She knew that the object of the exercise was to be perpetually on the lookout for tails. While walking everything from body language, gestures, expressions must be read. She must be so well versed in reading them that they could be deciphered instantly, and therefore give her information as to her surroundings.

The habit became unconscious and even now as she walked down her route, a part of her mind was at work analyzing the cast on the street. She kept a lookout for the other trainees, who given her route, had the objective in the exercise of following her. The tails could be swapped out, so Ningyo had to keep looking inconspicuously around her, ahead and behind her, to try and catch a glimpse of any behavior that stood out.

If anything the entire exercise reinforced the advantage of being inconspicuous, of moving so normally and fluidly and adapting the style of your dress and mannerisms to local custom so completely that you did not stick out even when looked for.

If Ningyo was ever captured or questioned by an enemy while working an operation, she was instructed to prepare a cover identity, including among other things a name, birthday, and documents to verify the identity. These identities all needed to have stories and little facts about them, an occupation, interests, histories, that must be regurgitated convincingly and without hesitation in the event of questioning.

The covers were prepared using the mind file system and Ningyo already knew them, she just needed to practice freely accessing them.

Ningyo left the target range and set out on her route back to her apartment. She was passing a ramen shop when she noticed that someone had been walking on this same street behind her for several blocks. To test her theory she turned left onto another street. Sure enough her tail followed. She smiled inwardly. Now that she had caught one, she could perhaps use her knowledge to find the others.

She continued on her route slowly attempting to give no indication that would tip off her tail to her discovery. She maintained a slow steady pace. She passed beneath a canal section and a walkway, and then across an overpass. The man still followed. At the end of a block she turned right and then quickly darted into an alley and used chakra climbing to climb up the walls.

Hidden by the shadow of a fire escape in the alley, Ningyo could see her pursuer pass without looking down the alley. Ningyo waited still, she remained in the alley breathing quietly. Another pursuer passed and crossed the street.

Ningyo then then crawled out from her perch, quietly climbing down to street level. She turned out of the alley and looked down the street, the two followers seemed mesmerized looking around, and signaling to each other. She had eluded them. They quickly went down the street and Ningyo, now followed.

Following them several blocks proved to be tricky, since she was their target, she had to keep her distance well behind them, and now since they didn't have her in their line of sight they had signaled to each other to split up, (the gesture could be so simple as pulling at a certain earlobe, or brushing the nose).

Ningyo made ground on her tail and, knowing which way he would be coming from a certain direction, switched streets to wraparound and meet him head on coming the other way. As she turned the final corner they stood face to face, headed in opposite directions. Ningyo tapped the tail on the shoulder as they passed. With this small tactful gesture the tail was bewildered, and took his hands out of his pockets as if to say "you got me."

Ningyo was elated and headed into a coffee shop to shake all other tails. She got a coffee and went to the bathroom. She ended up just pouring the coffee down the sink in the bathroom because she didn't drink coffee, but the coffee shop served to let her cool off her pursuers..

As she walked outside with her empty cup, two Uchiha police officers stopped her and pulled her over. "Police" they said as they spread her legs and put her against a wall. After searching her they took her off for questioning. They asked her name, to which she gave her cover name "Dorothy Gale" she said politely "Genin, Hidden Leaf Village."

The police kept her in holding for a while and then released her. Ningyo didn't know if they were in on the exercise or not, but she knew that Morpheus wanted her to keep using codenames and covers, and to keep alternating and switching those covers frequently. She was supposed to be prepared for the police, and that they had their own exercises also and she should be ready to give her story when necessary.

100 sit ups, newspaper, and a glass of milk. The puzzle in today's paper mentioned lockpicking. Ningyo found a few books on hold in her name at the library, courtesy of Control. She did her route home from the target range, which was becoming convoluted, and kept an eye over her shoulder for any tails.

Mastery of security systems necessarily included physical security, and so Ningyo was expected to train how gain entry to most places covertly. The first step was making her own set of lockpicks. Professional sets were expensive, hard to acquire, plus if a person were caught with a set, questions could arise and implications risen. Therefore, it was better to start off using things readily available, screwdriver, safety pins. These normal junk objects were somewhat less conspicuous, and could be disposed in a pinch. Once the apprentice's skill had built up, a professional locksmith set could then give them a magic touch.

Ningyo didn't feel comfortable picking the neighbor's front door, or a bike lock, so she bought a few different types of locks at the hardware store, and practiced on them at home. She used a filed down screwdriver as a tension wrench and a bent needle to slide across the tumblers.

From the hardware store Ningyo brought home pin locks, wafer locks (used for fliing cabinets, desks), lever locks (used for safety deposit boxes, cash boxes), etc.

Keeping a twisting tension with the sanded down screwdriver, Ningyo raked the pins softly with the safety pin. Starting at the rearmost lock pin, Ningyo pushed until she felt and heard a soft click. It took a little Magyvering, but in general Ningyo preferred this sort of work. Oh, how much better it was than her cryptography homework! Her natural somatic sense and finger dexterity from her throwing training and magic skills helped somewhat, because she picked up the trick rather quickly. When all the tumblers clicked into place Ningyo turned the screwdriver clockwise and the lock opened. It was a sort of satisfying release of tension.

Now she moved on to another lock. The kitchen table looked like a miniature workshop, with metal filings and locks of different sizes scattered atop. The wafer locks were a cinch, even easier than the pin locks, because manipulating the tumblers on regular pin door locks required a greater sensitivity and coordination. The trick was imagining how the pins were set inside the lock, since you couldn't actually see in there, it was all based on sensitivity and manipulation.

Next she read about key pad security systems. These were advanced type of electronic lock, not used often in the shinobi world, which emphasized simplicity. If she ever came across one, she was informed that all these had factory reset codes, and Konoha Intelligence just so happened to have somehow acquired these manual reset codes from the manufacturing companies. Once entered the open code could be reset. Ningyo was instructed to store these codes in her mind file and destroy the written text.

There were also card key magnetic strip locks. These were seen infrequently in the Hidden Villages, due to traditionalism, but again it was important to cover all the basics. Card key locks required magnetic lock picks that disoriented the lock. It worked in much the same way as a typical lock only with "magnetic" pins.

She had begun acquiring some basic lock skill, but she would still have to train if she was going to become a master.

Ningyo attended her ritual, the revolving door, 100 abdominal crunches, a glass of whole unpasteurized milk, and a folded newspaper on the dining room table. She had received Control's shogi moves encoded in the crossword section. Her game was moving along, and she was becoming a more sophisticated player.

Out on the street, she improvised a route to the target range, where she did some basic standing, stationary target practice. She knew that if she threw all bullseyes that she would make unnecessary waves at the target range. Here and there she would toss a few intentional duds and pretend to be disappointed.

Also she practiced with her crossbow some. She was approaching mastery with this piece of equipment with do to it's extreme simplicity.

Interestingly enough, her life was perfectly insulated. Was it something to do with her training? Had she become so non-descript, blended in so thoroughly, that she attracted almost no attention? Socially she really did feel as invisible as the ninja in the manuals she studied, since none of the people at the practice range spoke to her in more than a superficial way, and she received most of her training assignments remotely.

Discipline drowned out her need for connections. After all people, even some of the other Genin of the village could be nosy, non-driven, and waste time. Ningyo supposed that this sort of isolation was necessary to become a high achiever, which is what she aimed to be.

She returned home and opened the door, her key hanging out of the freshly reinstalled lock. She looked over to her study area, it was filled with dozens of books, a chess board and scattered peices, bits of locksmithing equipment and locks, the disorganization infuriated her and she cleaned up everything.

Ningyo's perfect world was stillness, naturally sterile. Outward organization reflected inner will. She picked up a Ninjamaxx magazine which featured on it's cover the typical bodacious, scantily clad, female model in a black ninja mask and a tacky, revealing outfit. Inside the magazine were diagrams and advertisements of various ninja tools, rappels, hooks, claws, blowguns, shuriken. Her fascination with the utility and precise data of the equipment was the one fetishization that Ningyo allowed herself, after all everyone has little obsessions.

Ningyo stared calmly at an athletic male model with white hair in a black mask in ANBU armor. It was aesthetic for those without identity. The advertisement was for the armor itself but the design, the typeset and orientation of elements in the ad but also the nondescript design of the functional armor itself, appealed to Ningyo's perseveration.

The image, the ANBU look, the model, encapsulated the transient, anonymous and psychologically utilitarian nature of the high art of ninjutsu and espionage. Ningyo was transfixed.

She gently used a sharp kunai to cut the ad out of the magazine and used some gum to stick it to the wall on her room in the closet.
The one image gave the small and previously barren area a decoration and some sense that it was inhabited (albeit if merely by an atypical adolescent girl).    

The poster would serve as perhaps an unconscious symbol of her goal, an aim of her dedication.

One day as Ningyo was doing her route she passed by a parade of sorts, it was something Ningyo had never seen before, a group of men and women in their teens and 20s, were marching and chanting slogans. A long haired, tall blonde man in strapped sandals with blue tinted circular sunglasses and a tan leather vest posted a flier on a telephone pole. It bore the blocprint image of a woman in a bandana with her hand to her lips, a blurb emitting from her mouth as if she were shouting: "Stop the Ninja-Industrial complex." in bold lettering.

Ningyo passed, her hands in a brandless baseball-like jacket (somewhat poofy, to hide the dozens of knives and weapons she carried on her person), "What's this all about?" she asked the protestor. "Oh groovy jacket, I'm glad you asked, we're just out here trying to raise awareness about the ninja caused genocides of minorities in the Earth country." he said in a voice that sounded as if it trailed into each syllable. "Ninja genocide? Someone is killing Ninja?" inquired Ningyo "Oh no! It's the shinobi inflicting the genocide man! Everybody knows that. Even here in our city Konoha, we live really in a two class system, ya dig? You have the shinobi on top, and then you have everyone else, the working class." Ningyo nodded "Those born into the working class like us have to either serve these colonialist bastards hand and foot or work like cogs in it's industrial machine! We're sick of it." Ningyo reflected on this, "I guess that does makes sense..." the protester motioned in a direction "Here let me introduce you to the group."

The protesters were a motley gathering of various ethnicities. One woman with flowers in her hair breastfed openly. They marched and carried signs, sang and chanted, and dressed in bohemian earth tones. "Hey nice to meet you my name is Sunflower and this is my partner Starhawk." Said a pretty woman with dreadlocked hair. "Oh hi, my name is Ningyo." Ningyo decided not to tell them that she was not only a ninja, but born into the bloodline of an elite clan that was essentially shinobi royalty. "We're trying to end facism" said Sunflower, in a spaced out voice, her youthful sun kissed skin, beneath a strapless pea soup green and brown-orange dress of hempen canvas.

Starhawk chimed in  "Yeah for too long the shinobi oligarchy has dominated the public discourse, we are relegated to our rank and file role as servants in a system obsessed with sustainable warfare. Do you know how much of the fire country budget alone goes to the production a single Ninja weapon?" Sunflower interrupted "Yes if it's not in the crafting of weapons (meant to take human life), then it's used to build more bases. Any of these things could feed or give medical care to the families of the refugees that have been displaced by war from the Land of Earth and Land of Lightning. But no, the shinobi class doesn't even blink an eye and continues to feed off of the labor of the workers."

Ningyo paused, these people appeared to make a good point. She wondered how they would feel if they knew that her entire life was dedicated to training her mind and body to execute the will of the very system they raged against. Ningyo couldn't help it, all her training told her to play into their thinking, to never blow cover and to agree with them making a connection whereby she could extract information, but somewhere Ningyo really viewed these guys and their ideologies, however misguided, as people. She countered, "Yes but couldn't you also explain that shinobi society has the mandate of heaven?" she ventured to argue (secretly justifying herself).

"Mandate of heaven? That's far out...I can't dig what you're saying..." said Starhawk. "Well..." Ningyo explained "If destiny, circumstance, or however you want to call it, has placed Ninja at the top of the pyramid, perhaps it's meant to be their role lead and guide people, or at least to grapple with that responsibility."

Sunflower laughed, "that's stereotypical shinobi-ist rhetoric, it really just means 'might is right'. It's what the shinobi want you to believe, to get you thinking like them."

Just then a group of Konoha Village guards in green vest descended in a flash and threw smoke bombs into the crowd, the dissidents dispersed and fled in various directions. "Oh hey, wassup Ningyo." said a ripped guard chewing gum. "Tip us off if these guys cause anymore trouble yea?" he winked as his lips curled into an elated grin revealing sparkling teeth. "Seeya later."

It was a morning like any other right? 100 sit ups, a half gallon of milk, and the Daily Leaf. Ningyo in a worn grey tank top, finished her cereal absent mindedly,  the toes of one foot scratched the top of the other as she worked out the crossword. She yawn and collapsed her arms. The decrypted missive read; "Look sharp in munchkin town at 13:23 near payphone, Nd4."

"Munchkin Town" was controls nomenclature for a certain sector of Konoha near the Nara clan district. Nd4 was a chess move. Ningyo cleaned up and slid into her gear. She would swing by after target practice.

Ningyo arrived at the payphone. A blue rose was painted on the side in graphitti. She had looked around her to make sure nobody was tailing her. Suddenly the phone rang. Ningyo answered. A crackling, electronically voice-masked, voice emitted from the earpiece "Hey doll, how would you like to be a star?" Ningyo didn't know how to respond "Are you supposed to brief me?" the electronic voice replied. "Well, that's one answer, I guess I'll cut to the point, Control wants you to do a photoshoot." "Okay, who's picture do you want?" the voice laughed in a smoky modular ring "Yours sweetie!" Ningyo paused "I don't understand..."

The disembodied voice said to appear at a certain apartment at the designated time. Ningyo waited, and made her meandering way to her destination. When she arrived she knocked on the door, there seemed to be some sort of party going on inside. An artsy woman with her hair done up, wearing jeans and a loose shirt with a square graphic answered the door "You must be the talent, thank the devil the agency pulled through." she said dragging a confused Ningyo inside.

The artsy girl clapped getting the rooms attention, "hey guys, our girl is here," she pointed to Ningyo "Everyone this is Anastasia..." she turned to Ningyo "Alright, Anastasia my name is Tammi, I'm the costume director. We're going to have you run through make-up and then costume so you can be ready for the shoot, yeah?" Ningyo had so many questions but she simply nodded.

The entire place was a big studio with raised ceilings, the background walls were white with big loft windows. A group of production people hung around a tray of hors d'oeuvres spread out on a white tablecloth over a formica table. To the right were large light reflectors and free standing studio lighting in a set-up that illuminated a white backdrop that rolled out on to the floor.

The make-up artist was a pretty girl that seemed to make absent minded small talk with Ningyo about her pores and the various skin care products. Ningyo couldn't believe the end result, she looked perfect, almost completely different. She was them guided to the costume director that picked out a designer outfit. "You'll have to wear these blue sandals, they are moving like crazy right now. They are the thing."

Ningyo was brought before a skinny balding man in a striped black and white shirt, he held a large mechanical camera and a scarf. "alright honey." he said, "you're going to be on the cover of Ninjamaxx so show me what you got!" Ningyo didn't know what to think, she moved her arms delicately and struck a pose. "Ou, ou! Purrfect gurl!"

Ningyo spent the next hour messing up her hair, bending down and modeling the weapons in lackadaisical, chic model poses. She stared laconically into the camera, shooting it a dark sensual look. She let the various weapons dangle from her hands as she reclined on exotic furniture.

The production team was astounded, as a few whispered amongst themselves as they drank red wine behind the photographer pointed happily. They gave her a thumbs up.

Lo and behold, the next weekend she picked up a Ninjamaxx at the magazine stand and found her photo inside in an advertisement for kunai. The text read "Deathwish! brand kunai, they'll wish they never made it past the village gates."

Ningyo knew the drill, glass of milk, paper courtesy of delivery shinobi, to front door... "99 ugh, 100." grunted out Ningyo, descending from her position upside down in the doorway. She went to the door and looked over the paper.

The daily puzzle bore instructions to make contact "Starhawk" the only identifier. Interesting that she had just bumped into a fellow by that name, could Control be playing with felicity? Ningyo slipped into some jeans and put on her vest, pulling over her coat and putting on a baseball cap.

After the shooting range Ningyo went about her route. The route for today just so happened to align with Starhawk's, she tailed him from a distance of about a block or so. After a meandering walk he dipped into a café. Ningyo went to the magazine stand across the street, picking up a magazine. Pretending to read, she watched from a distance. Starhawk could be seen through the large window of the café sit down and join a group of free spirited friends.

Ningyo put the magazine back and crossed the street. She walked in through the front door of the café. Inside there was a barista in a green apron. "Hi welcome what can I get started for you?" Ningyo smiled and placed her order, giving the barista a tip of a few ryo. Suddenly seeing Starhawk approaching, she intentionally bumped into him from behind.

A little bit of coffee poured onto his organic shirt. "Oh, I'm so sorry, excuse me." said Ningyo. Starhawk's face lit up "Hey you look so familiar, didn't we meet the other day?" Ningyo scratched her head "Oh yeah I suppose we did, we talked about uh politics or something." a worker at the cafe called out Ningyo's drink "Anastasia!"

"Come join me and my friends, they are all ready open minded people like us. We were just talking about the movement." he guided Ningyo to meet his friends. "Everybody, this is Anastasia." Starhawk introduced her to his friends, a girl in tan overalls stood up and offered her greasy hand "This is Possum, she's an activist" Ningyo shook it passively. A dark skinned man with curly hair and a tweed derby hat raised his glass "This is Brown Bear, he's a refugee from the land of Earth" Ningyo looked him up and down and smiled politely. "And this is Contra, he's a poet" a man with glasses in a bomber jacket nodded her way.

The group went on about class warfare, the proletariat, affirmative action, and the anti-ninja movement. Ningyo played with her sugary coffee drink, whip cream on top. She wasn't allowed to have sugar or coffee, since it could subtly upset chakra flow, so she pretended to drink it while listening to her new friends talk about the rights of the working class.

"To the daimyo, we are slaves. We are the machines used to pave their roads, the labor used to built their hidden villages and fortresses. We are their servants, and the funny thing is, most people don't even realize it."

"What do you do Anastasia?" asked Contra. "I'm a model." replied Ningyo "I work for an agency." "Far out" replied Contra. "That's pretty cool, we could use people like you in the movement, you know, to help spread the word." Ningyo nodded.

As evening crept in Starhawk climbed the stairs to the old pale green door of the flat. He knocked the code 3 -2 -1 solid knocks with pauses. The door slid back and a face peered out from behind the door's chain. The sentry must have recognized Starhawk and, closing the door, unfastened the lock.

The little coterie filed into the flat. Once inside they passed a dark creaking hallway they opened an apartment door and were instantly surrounded by the smoky haze of an urban commune. Anti-shinobi propoganda posters lie on the paint peeled walls and several peace tribe members lay in conversation.

A record player turned lopsidedly next to an oblong ashtray and a glass of paint filled water. Young people, dressed in day-glo pastels and earth fabrics, mostly of college student age, sat on the ground cross legged, smoking and laughing. Others were standing and gesticulating seriously, discussing the movement.

The tall loft windows etched a dampened twilight into the old hidden flat. The furniture in the apartment was all repossessed, repurposed, which meant that while being antique the chairs had the fabric in their backs slashed or were covered in graphitti. There were various mats spread out for the activists to sleep.

The woman Ningyo had seen previously, Sunflower, was walking forward already in a heated discussion with another comrade. "...it inevitably becomes an ontological question, the shinobi-bourgeoise offer us endless freedom, the freedom to chose to sell our children into slavery, the freedom to engage in their organ trafficking networks, to accept their sort of freedom is to view reality as resources and spare parts mined to feed the egregore of capital, the shinobi system."

Sunflower smiled as she walked over to Ningyo and hugged her. "Ah, nice to see you again sister, welcome to our little peace tribe, the headquarters of the Anti Ninja Activism League."

Ningyo bowed and smiled graciously as Brown Bear gave Sunflower a power fist hand signal "Salam Alaikum sista" Sunflower received him in an embrace.

"This is the the central nervous system of the resistance, the hub by which our activities take place." She took Ningyo by the arm and lead her into a kitchen where the peace tribe members were at work with radio equipment and maps. "Here we organize the activities and protests to awaken our class to the struggle."

"And would you consider yourself the leader?"

"Haha, leader far out, where did Starhawk pick you up so wet behind the ears? We don't have any leaders here, there is no mastermind, we are all apostles of the truth. We don't need geniuses, we need apostles awakening the unwashed masses."

"The revolution thrives on enlightenment." Sunflower gave Ningyo a raised fist, "Welcome to the resistance sista."

Ningyo sat up in her bed and rubbed her eyes. She stumbled into the refrigerator to pour herself a glass of milk, and methodically began her abdominal exercises. She had stayed out too late partying with the peace tribe and would have to snap back to her routine.

She decoded the newspaper. It said to report for debriefing. She went about her day, training her bukijutsu in the clearing. She was throwing so hard for so long that she collapsed momentarily, looking at the clouds move slowly through the sky.

She jumped into the rendezvous point through an open window, a white curtain billowing. Inside there was a projector on the wall. It was cycling through black and white images of members of the peace tribe. Silhouettes of a few men in suits smoked cigarettes watching the negatives through thick shades. The room had the general ambiance of an abandoned hospital room.

"Agent 7 nice to see you" replied Morpheus. Ningyo turned to look at the pictures illuminating the projector. The targets were all there, 'Starhawk', 'Sunflower'. "So, you want them cleaned?" asked Ningyo finally.

"What? No, it took a lot of effort to get them there." replied the Director. "So, you mean..." "Yes Starhawk and Sunflower are ours, I thought you knew." said Director Morpheus indifferently.

"Well then I don't understand my mission anymore." said Ningyo. The Director paused, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. The white curtain billowed through the window and the still of the projector made a gentle whirring sound. "Anastasia, things aren't always as they appear at face value. These missions are for training purposes. The Intelligence division needs to fabricate little threats like these from time to time to continue our funding."

Ningyo stared into the whirling smoke and shadows that obfuscated the men. "Well then what are my orders?" the director rose from his chair and from the corner pulled another white sheet away from an ornately framed mirror. The details on the golden frame were intricate and subdued, they implied sophistication. "What do you see when you look in this mirror, Anastasia?" said the director, cigarette dangling from his mouth. She paused "Myself I guess."

The director put the mirror aside he grabbed another man from his chair. He pointed "this is Kagaku." said the Director "Your mission is to bring him into contact with the targets." Kagaku was a 6' 3" balding man with a 5 o'clock shadow and thick framed glasses. He wore a black suit. His arm was handcuffed to a metallic briefcase.

"You are dismissed."  

Ningyo trudged home silently with Kagaku in tow, she couldn't help wondering if he was perhaps autistic. He didn't speak at all and merely followed Ningyo home. She felt more at ease by herself, as she had just spent weeks practicing how to not draw attention, and here was this man who stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Please, don't walk behind me like that, it doesn't appear natural." whispered Ningyo. She motioned for him to walk beside her.

NIngyo woke up. "Good morning Kagaku." she said cheerfully. "I hope you don't mind but, every morning I do 100 upside down sit ups." She went to the the convenience store "Let me guess, a half gallon of raw milk?" said the convenience store clerk conversationally. "You got it!" smiled Ningyo uncharacteristically.

Ningyo finished a crossword puzzle, had a glass of milk, and did her 100 sit ups. Kagaku waited dispassionately.

NIngyo slipped into her combat vest and jacket. "Come one Kagaku, I think you'll fit right in with my friends." She figured she would drop him off first and then start her day.

After a walk she made her way up to the door and rapped 3 -2 -1 times on the door. A short man wearing green opened and looked over the chain. "So here she is." he said, closing the door while undoing the latch and opening it again.

Ningyo brought Kagaku into the bustling apartment, full of peace tribe members. Brown Bear and Contra sat on chic inclined orange 1970s couches. "Man, we gots ta organise the means of production brotha," said Brown Bear, in his bell bottomed pants, derby hat, and unbuttoned silken shirt, with golden chain. "Unionization is the first step," Contra sat across from him in spectacles and an old fashioned army cap "Yes well the factories that produce shuriken and kunai, and other weapons for Ninjamaxx staff hundreds of people, we only have a few contacts there and it would take a majority, to unionize. It could take years to start a union in a factory like that."

Sunflower came drifting up to Ningyo and shot Kagaku the peace sign, she whispered under her breath "Who's the square?" Kagaku interrupted "I have something of interest to show you, take me to the kitchen." He mechanically marched his was into the kitchen and slammed his attaché case down on the counter. Several disgruntled members of the group scurried away.

He clicked open the case and a warm golden glow emanated from the briefcase. "No way," said Starhawk, "No filppin way, it's" "It's liquid gold" said Sunflower. "I am a alchemist." said Kagaku. "I know the recipe."

Starhawk fell to Kagaku's feet, "You're Jesus Christ." he said "He's Jesus in the flesh. We just have to test... the purity." Starhawk laughed with joy.

Ningyo waited with her hands in her pockets. "Wow, Anastasia, you sure do know some interesting people!" Ningyo shrugged, "Well anyway, I have to get going, I'm late for work, another photoshoot."

"This is so big, you don't know how major this is...." said Sunflower she reached out and clutched Ningyo's hand tightly "This could mean everything for the movement." Ningyo nodded exiting the apartment.

She made her way to the gym, taking a shower and cleaning the herbal and patchouli smell from herself. She zipped herself into some practice gear and then started where she found herself most at home, she did a handstand flip tossing a knife into a moving human cutout target. She entered a flow state, drawing and letting knives glide across the target range.

"Sharingan!" she yelled.

"We have developed a new machine," said the Director to Ningyo white smoking an expensive cigarette. "Originally we made it as a scenario testing device, but we've found it works equally well as a tool for training shinobi."

"It is a supercomputer, a world in miniature, that contains the data for thousands of self autonomous beings." Ningyo lay down on a reclining chair. "We call this glorious matrix, the Simulacron." Ningyo listened apprehensively. "Inside the Simulacron are thousands of autonomous 'people' hardcoded to believe they are real. It is a miniature hidden village." the Director laughed happily, a streak of grey hair showing at his temple. "One of our scientists said our computer was like the realm of an alien god." the Director tapped his fingers. "Anyway, that programmer ended up having a mental breakdown, and had to be laid off."

Ningyo looked around. "Control, it's not like you to tell me more than you need to, I'm assuming you want me to play around with the machine?" The Driector nodded "Very good Ningyo, yes. The programming team have just finished the last update today. We think the program is ready for alpha testing."

Ningyo watched as a motorcycle helmet like apparatus connected to blinking diodes and wires descended unto her head. She gave the Director a thumbs up.

Suddenly the screen of the the helmet flashed various colored blinking lights. An electronic whirring noise sine waved various frequencies, modulating very low until the sound seemed to generate a feeling of space around her. She had the sensation of falling from a great height through a kind of stargate.

Suddenly her body materialized, and she found herself standing in an all white space that stretched infinitely in all directions. She tried moving her new body. She moved around in what felt like a second flesh. She couldn't even tell the difference. "Wow, control, it feels like the real thing."

There was a pause, and then the Director's voice electronically modulated from somewhere in the 'heavens' above, as if giving deific voiceover, "Yes it is what we called 'hyperreality'. How about it NIngyo, care to try a training simulation now?" Ningyo looked at the front and backs of her virtual hands. "Sure let's fire it up."

Suddenly vectors began to form around Ningyo into the shapes of a warehouse supply shaft loading various cargo. Balaclava wearing shinobi in generic fatigues were scattered amongst the warehouse. Once a skin had settled over the scenery it appeared no different than reality.

The enemy shinobi reached for a kunai and Ningyo instantly reacted throwing her own kunai and knocking his out of the air. She then did a backflipping twirl and let fly a barrage of highly accurate kunai that caught the different shinobi in various vital points.

She landed and ducked for cover behind a box. She watched as a pool of blood radiated from beneath a fallen enemy. "Wow, it's seems so realistic."

"Yes the Shinobi are even programmed with stories about their life, hobbies, we find it gives the programs a sense of purpose and makes them fight more intensely." The program shut down and Ningyo was pulled out.

"That was just a small taste of what the Simulacron can do. Anyway, I'll deliver one of these helmets to your house, and you can hook it up to our mainframe from there."

Ningyo did her crunches, drank her milk, and did her homework. She was getting a little bit tone in her core, there were days when her stomach just burned, but now she had a nice little abdominal ripple showing through. She did her crossword puzzle. Her message said today she was to be prepared for another modelling gig.

Decided to go shopping. After all, since this modelling business was a cover, she could send a receipt to get the items billed to Konoha Inelligence. Although it was extremely out of character for Ningyo to waste time on fashion or even material things not relating to her shinobi career, i.e. supplies, weapons, tools, Ningyo needed more clothes to keep up her covers both in her model life and in her life with peace tribe.

She went to the clothing store, she preferred of course, a basic black, skin-tight, lycra or cotton. The fashions she preferred were ninja clothes, tactical, sleeveless, armbands, bandages, kneepads etc. She tried to get different clothes but she was drawn to the essentials, things with pockets, utility, straps. I need to get in the frame of mind of my cover, what would SHE want to wear? Ningyo found a vintage leather jacket with a belt in he middle, a waist hugger, the belt could be drawn tight leaving the leather to flare on bottom and on top. She liked the jacket as it reminded her of something mysterious and classy. She also got some normal black jeggings, not too different than her usual gear. I can still move around in this she thought.

She arrived at the downtown studio with her new leather jacket and heels, "Ahnasasia darhling" said an art director, who instantly introduced her to the other production members. She could tell this crew was more professional than the other modelling gigs that she had done. She took off her jacket and ran through make-up.

The art director sipped a clear drink with ice and mint out of a crystal glass. He had short black styled hair and black thick sunglasses. He wore an orange sweater and white mod shoes with heels. He sat in a collapsible fabric backed director's chair.

Ningyo sat in a tall windowsill, a curtain buffeted by the wind. She held a full tang anbu issue tanto seductively in her hand, a black mask over her face. A fan delicately blew her hair back as the photographer instructed her to arch her neck at just the right angle. The camera flashed instantly.

Great big umbrella shaped light reflectors stood behind the photographer. Next Ningyo reclined in a red velvet modern chair, of amorphous shape. The chair was positioned subtly in front of an abstract bauhaus painting of various circles and squares. She wore an avant-garde designer black dress made of frilly fabric and red heeled shoes. "Click them together!" yelled the art director.

The next week Ningyo flipped and scanned through the latest Ninjamaxx for her picture. The advertisement was for a sword. "Hanzo Edgez, For Those Whose Words Cut As Deep As Their Swords."

Ningyo woke up and finished her sit ups, sitting at the kitchen table drinking a tall glass of milk. She went and opened her door, seeing at her feet a medium sized box. She picked the box up and brought it inside, placing it on the table. Prying the box open she looked inside.

It was the Simulacron helmet. Ningyo took a kunai and cut the tape from the box, lifting it gingerly out of it's packaging. The helmet possessed a mass of thick and spinning wires at the top, which she had to plug into her phone line and electrical outlets. She turned the helmet on.

Ningyo woke up, had a glass of milk and did 100 sit ups. She went down to the convenience store to get the newspaper "Hey there, let me guess, two half gallons of milk and a newspaper, am I right?" Ningyo responded "You bet mister, I have to drink my milk and become a strong shinobi"

She sat at the table and finished the crossword. The message read "Being with you, and not being with you, is the only way I have to measure time."

She put on her supply outfit beneath her new leather jacket. She went outside and took a slow stroll through Konohagakure. She passed the old Uchiha Senbei, shaking her head in amazement that the place was sill open. She passed the Dango shop, the sign made up of the stick through the dango balls. She passed the quiet, Konoha Library (where she was supposed to go back to return her books).

Yakiniku Q passed on her left, she used to have an older acquaintance that worked there, and she knew it was a nice place that the village Jounin liked to eat at. There off in the distance was the Hokage rock. She squinted, looking at how many faces were there. It's a little blurry, she thought as she rubbed her eyes.

Ningyo realized that Konohagakure was not only a hidden village, but it was a reflection of the world that it was hidden from. Without a 'FIre Country' there could be no 'Konoha' with it's traditional architecture, and seemingly rural values.

Ningyo walked into FIre Park, the Konoha zoo. Here, science had isolated all of the endangered animals kept them in their pre-historic condition. The man at the admission booth waited, idly reading a book. Ningyo paid and went inside. In here, the animals screeched and chirped. It was interesting to think that all of these endangered animals would be dead if released back into the wild.

Before the animals cages were tracts of information about them, propped up on wooden laminate signs. The archaeologists had gone to great lengths to resurrect the identity of these creatures. Here they were restored to their bestial virginity.

The hidden village needed a zoo, a copy of the authentic environment that the animals inhabited. A reflection of the wild.

Ningyo sat in the apartment of the peace tribe. The members talked about the resistance, the petite-bourgeoise, the student's coalition for social change, and the prohibition of ninjutsu. In the kitchen, Kagaku was hard at work, doing some sort of chemistry experiment under certain yellow and blue lights, at certain specific temperatures. Kagaku also kept continually muttering something under his breath about a person named "Anne Hydrous".

Ningyo sat on the floor in the circle with Possum, Black Bear, and Sunflower. They chatted about the what the topic of discussion always seemed to revolve around here 'the movement'. Contra emerged from the kitchen, "He's finished. We'll have the first test batch."

Sunflower darted up and went into the kitchen. Everyone seemed to become very excited, and there was an electric feeling in the room. Suddenly Contra came out of the kitchen with several glass coca cola bottles. "Okay so now, we're going to play a sort of roulette, family." A member of the peace tribe rolled their eyes. Ningyo didn't really understand.

She watched as the coca cola bottles were passed around, Brown Bear, sitting in front of a globe of the earth, lit up a hand rolled perfumed cigarette and passed it and a coke bottle to Possum. Ningyo stared down at her coca cola bottle it they came around to her. It read "drink me" 私を飲んで. She had never drank soda before, because of her training, but she didn't want to appear conspicuous so she imbibed the eucharist with her friends.

"Yes, I think it's our collective bargaining power," said Possum as she puffed the incense "that will ultimately liberate us from the exploitation of imperialistic shinobi forms of government. Awakening the petit-bourgeoise will mean more leveraging power against the shinobi system, fair compensation, and a bill of rights for workers."

As Possum droned on the room began to spin. It was then that Ningyo realized that some of the bottles must have contained a substance. Brown Bear laughed magnanimously, his face a morphing blur, spinning the globe with his hands and chanting a vibrational mantra. The room began to melt away. The words that Possum intoned began to take on physical shape. Contra's face turned into a smiling cat's face.

Ningyo felt as if she was falling, The antique furniture seemed to be levitating, suspended in midair. Her sense of depth perception was distorted. Kagaku came out from the kitchen, seeming to Ningyo to stretch infinitely into the distance, where he stood triumphantly. the lenses of his glasses spinning in black and white hypnotic swirls.

The lights in the room seemed to flash various colors and she stared through the apartments keyhole to the outside. Through the small keyhole she saw the flickering and spinning images of her cover personalities, each with different colored electric neon hair.

The neon colors pulsated through the labyrinth of electric circuitry that seemed to make up the fiber of everything.

Ningyo woke up, and took off her Simulacron helmet. She had accidently fallen asleep with it on. She went to the kitchen, stretching and starting her day.

A glass of milk check thought Ningyo, a newspaper check thought Ningyo. She cracked her wrists and extended them outwards beginning her 100 sit-ups. '

NIngyo shook her head, it was still throbbing from what Control had explained to her were the research chemicals she had taken the night before. The substance she had ingested was supposedly the prototype form of a truth serum.

She crawled out of the cage in the closet room where she slept, her head throbbed. She did her morning meditation and completed her one hundred sit ups. She looked through the newspaper, but the crossword section was just the answers from last week.

She rubbed her head, and went into the bathroom to take an aspirin. She thought about the peace tribe, how did she really feel about them? Were they just targets that she was supposed to watch, or were they her only friends. Was control trying to get her to neutralize the only people she had come to love? She took the aspirin from the shelf and closed the cabinet.

As she closed the cabinet door she saw her own face in the mirror, except her reflection was blonde and had dark eye shadow. "They're not your friends Ningyo." said the voice in the mirror. "They're just targets, plain and simple, it's just a mission." The serious face in the mirror and it's dark battered eyeliner scared her and she dropped the pills which rattled on the tile floor.

She threw on her supply vest and jacket, and ran out of the apartment and walked briskly, headed to the target range. Maybe she could get her mind off of this by practicing. On the way to training she saw Possum "Oh hey, Anastasia, what's going on? Last night was pretty groovy huh? Man that stuff was the real deal." Ningyo paused. "Yeah, bet, hey look have you seen Starhawk around?" Possum looked bewildered "Starhawk?" she asked  "I know that stuff was pure but I think maybe you've got a screw looose." Ningyo stammered "No, Starhawk, you know, the tall blonde guy, Sunflower's boyfriend."

"Uhhh... Sunflower has alot of partners..." said Possum "but monogamy, as you know, is a tool of the bourgeoise to keep the laborer in bondage." Ningyo looked at the ground in confusion "Are you sure you're alright? Last night was pretty heavy." said Possum, reaching out. Ningyo looked up at Possum, narrowing her gaze. "So you're sure you don't remember a Starhawk?" pressed Ningyo skeptically, "How many times do I have to say it? NO! Look, you're acting like a real ninja right now, playing 20 questions with me, no I don't remember any 'Starhawk' ever! Is that clear enough for you? God Ana, get a grip."

Ningyo paused "I'm in a hurry," she said finally, almost under her breath, leaving Possum to stand in the middle of the thoroughfare with a bewildered and suspicious look on her face.

At the target range Ningyo considered these events as she let various weapons fly from her hands, Starhawk, disappeared? It doesn't make sense. It was as if the person named Starhawk had never existed. She did the usual tricks and acrobatics and hit the usual bullseyes.

As she threw another kunai in slow motion, some part of her mind was still thinking of Starhawk. This went further than him being unalived by Control, he had disappeared altogether.

Ningyo stared at herself methodically in the mirror, as the make-up assistant applied delicate lightening effects on her complexion. She had been given orders from Control that Sunflower was to tag along to this shoot, to find wider markets for the new product. To that effect, everybody at the shoot seemed to be having a good time.

The art and advertising crowd was the ideal market for the sort of wacky and visually complex, mind altering product that Kagaku cooked up. Ningyo watched through the reflection of the mirror as she saw Sunflower fraternizing with the crowd. She had toned up her image some, and now her image had turned from true bohemian, to a sort of faux bohemian-chic. She had shored up her hippie act to appeal to the jet-set. Ningyo turned back to look at the hair stylists work in the mirror. The cosmeticians were very talented as usual.

The art director told Ningyo to hurry and get dressed for the shoot, so she slid behind a little rice paper partition. There, only the shadow of her figure could be seen slipping into a little black dress. Sunflower tip toed up "Hey love, these people are faaar out, I'm getting rid of so many of our little love potions." Sunflower giggled "That's good" replied Ningyo "I'm on a little bit myself man! The walls in here look trippy. You know, I figure this potion is really going to wake people up, our recruitment for the peace tribe is skyrocketing. Once they take our love potion, it will naturally open their eyes to the truth and they'll become awakened."

"That's great Sunflower" Ningyo interjected. "Hey... I wonder," she transitioned "You haven't seen Starhawk around much recently huh?" Sunflower laughed "NO, butt that name sure does sound familiar, who was that? Did he ever come around the peace tribe?" Ningyo fastened her clothes "Huh, you're sure you never remember meeting a Starhawk?" Sunflower frowned "You're scaring me Ningyo, you're going to give me a bad trip, what are you talking about?" "It's nothing, nevermind."

Ningyo strutted out and was handed the katana and other weapons and accessories she was supposed to model. The photographer walked backwards snapping pictures. He lay on the ground to get a full vertical view as Ningyo unsheathed the katana sensuously. Little droplets of flower petals descended upon the set. The red of the petals matched the red of Ningyo's lips.

She rolled around on the ground in a sheer material fabric in the petals as the photographer stood above her, snapping photos. She lay in a bed of petals and sheer pink material, with the unsheathed katana shining like a breath of clarity. She licked the edge of the sword carefully.

The printed advertisement read; "Battletech, make your friends love you and your enemies disappear."

Ningyo made her way up the pale blue steps of the peace tribe's enclave. She entered the dark hallway of the apartment complex, with it's damp smell and peeling paint. knocked on the door of the peace tribe's tenement. "Hello?" she said "Anybody home?" There was a pregnant pause. She looked both ways down the hallway, her reflection caught within the fisheye lens of the peephole.

The door suddenly opened and Brown Bear stood in the doorway. She activated the quick spring release on the wrist loader of the kunai which made its way into Brown Bear's stomach. She retracted the blade with a metallic clink as blood poured from his confused and dying face, dripping from his lips as he collapsed in the hallway clutching his bowels in agony.

Ningyo kicked his lifeless body through the doorway and entered using her tactical home invasion skills.

Ningyo entered the scanning apartment with two kunai in her hands, her arms crossed in an X shape. She extended her arms in a cross, throwing the knives simultaneously in two separate directions. They embedded themselves in the foreheads of Possum and a floral dress wearing communist. Blood splattered against the vintage orange furniture and record player, against the posters and fur rug of the enclave.

She spun slashing releasing a series of short melee kunai strikes and thrown projectiles at point blank range with deadly accuracy and brutal efficiency, mowing down several cult members. Sunflower came running in from the kitchen only to catch a volley of kunai in vital areas and head. Her body went limp as she collapsed to the ground.

She gazed about at the slaughter of corpses strewn about the flat pooling in their own dark blood.

She removed the SImulacron helmet. Taking a deep breath. Going to the kitchen she poured herself a glass of milk and finished 100 sit ups. She was prepared to go to any length to complete her assignment. She decoded the message in the crossword of the newspaper. It simply read "we make our move against the peace tribe cell."

Ningyo decoded the message, ultimately, it meant her friends were in trouble. Ningyo had a sudden crisis of faith, what did the peace tribe do wrong except having a certain naivete, a lust for freedom, and experimental lifestyle choices? Did they really deserve to get liquidated? Cleared out? Ningyo considered it over and over in her head.

She picked up the newspaper and stared down at the message. "prepare to make the move against the peace tribe cell" It was certain then, Control was going to target them. She felt regretful for her weird misguided decision to practice in the simulator against her friends. It was maybe an uncontrollable anger that made her act that way.

She put on her supply vest and raced towards the safe house, she had to tell her friends what was coming for them, a powerful covert force. The best-case outcomes looked bleak, they could face criminal charges for distribution or just be the victims of a well orchestrated hit.

Her thoughts raced as she sprinted down the street. She leaped over a fence taking a shortcut. She turned a corner making her way to the flat. She raced up the steps and opened the door. No guard on duty, she thought. She tip toed through the corridor, an eerie silence seeming to linger.

Ningyo gently pushed open the already unlocked and opened door to the peace tribe's safe house. She looked around the apartment in shock. Everything was cleared out. No furniture, posters. She walked inside, it was all anti-septic, there were no indications of life. She walked into the bathroom, the kitchen, the boudoir. It was all vacant and strangely clean.

What could this mean? Thought Ningyo. Could they somehow have been tipped off, and they cleared out? But that couldn't be possible, the peace tribe had nobody inside the KIB. Or maybe it was too late, the black ops team had already come and eliminated them.

Ningyo fell to her knees. When suddenly Control entered the room appearing from behind a swinging door, wearing a beige trench coat, with hat, black gloves with his combed salt and pepper hair.

"Are they dead?" Ningyo asked. "You're a little late." said Control. He paused then added. "there is no room for remorse Agent 7." Ningyo looked around at the clean apartment. A silent tear streamed down her expressionless face.

In a flash she could see the apparitions of her friends laughing, drinking coca cola. "What really happened I may never know." whispered Ningyo. "You're right, and it's better that way. That information is classified." they both were silent. "Get up Ningyo and I'll take you to go get an ice cream."

Ningyo got up and the Director took her by the hand. Stepping out of the apartment she stopped to take one last look behind her.