Even from a distance once could see the unearthly green flame rising up over the treeline. As before the surrounding foliage quickly caught flame and billowed upwards, fed by a continual stream of fresh air. Unlike the earlier red flames, General Hashimoto Daisuke’s green flames burned in a much tighter area as they swept around the jungle. It resembled less of the uncontrolled bonfire from his altercation with Len Sosu and more like the focused type of flame one would see at the end of a candle.

The unnatural green flame circled slowly around where Daisuke presumably still stood and devastated a wide swatch in all directions as it moved. The fires from before also still smoldered and the black smoke that dying inferno still cast off was joined by a newer, smaller plume of smoke. It painted a very clear line for miles for anyone to follow. Even in that dense jungle one would merely have to look up to see what direction to head in. If just a little bit of fortune would come his way this would keep all the various third parties occupied and away from the graveyard.

Motonubu lowered his spyglass and glanced back towards the undisturbed nature behind him. One could never rely on the whims of fate, though. He needed to make haste.

He slid back down to the base of the tree he had been using as a vantage point and rechecked his belongings. The crystal hourglass still rest safely away within his cloak, its inscrutable clock ticking away. Motonubu was at this point fully used to the disorientation that came with every jump, at least insofar as the physical side of the equation was concerned. One couldn’t as easily shake the disconcerting feelings that came from reentering a world without knowledge of what had just transpired. The only memories Monotubu held now were the ones that he took with him prior to setting off after Daisuke handled Len Sosu- a meeting that must have gone horrible, considering the General was now torching everything in an effort to guard against imagined traps.

Glancing down Motonubu again referred to a small brown notebook. Indecipherable black ink covered the pages. Replacing it on his person Motonubu breathed just a bit easier, possibly because the smoke wasn’t so back down on ground level. He was the Motonubu of the past now and couldn’t recall anything that had transpired in the last few hours, because hadn’t been there. Yet not all was lost. In his last moments the Motonubu of the Future had sent the past a clue.

“If you end up by the tree with the three knotted trunks,” the message read, “General Hashimoto Daisuke is relatively healthy, refused our offer, but is unaware of our scheme.” Motonubu closed the book and thought for a moment before replacing it on his person. The hourglass wasn’t terribly precise during jumps, especially ones done in the panic of a life or death moment. Preparing for his encounter with Daisuke required him to stand beside numerous specific trees for some time, just in case he overshot by accident. Each tree represented a different possible outcome such that by jumping back a specific amount of time, Motonubu could determine what had happened at the now apparently ill-fated meeting. That gave Motonubu just enough information to know what his next step should be. Judging from the green flames still roiling out of sight, Daisuke must have still possessed some piece of the Sixeyes as well. What an ugly situation to be in. Drawing his cloak around him, Motonubu gave a quick look up to verify the time of day. Still so much work to be done.

-

The first expeditions across Jinchi uncovered no biological remnants of human life. Oh, to be sure, there were ruins. Large crumbled stone hovels could be found here or there, colonized entirely by vines or moss or if one was unlucky a family of wild boars. Most perplexing of all to Annitou’s would-be graverobbers was the lack of bodies. No skeletons lay in these closets. Sizable salt-encrusted stone tablets and spires dotted Jinchi’s rolling jungle hills but even when dug up those apparent gravesites revealed nothing but rocks and rubble. Early in Jinchi’s surge of exploration some of these graves provided a fragment of an artifact or some half-completed bauble, causing Annitou to undertake a massive effort to unearth every grave they came across. What resulted was instead months of digging up basically nothing.

Perhaps as some kind of cosmic joke, the past residents of Jinchi seemed to have spent quite a bit of effort burying not bodies, but just more gravestones. At one such site Annitou’s archeologist dug up grave after grave only to reveal more graves beneath. Hundreds of carefully carved stones in various shapes and sizes, spread out like veins across a valley between two unassuming jungle hills. Annitou’s military had been so nice as to clear out all the vegetation in the area as well, letting one step out of the forest and into a mile wide clearing covered in freshly upturned earth and numerous scattered stone markers. Some of the gravestones rose up as high as a tree and one could be forgiven for thinking they might hide some greater secret- but, alas, no temple of goodies nor vault of gold was to be found anywhere near the site. At a glance one could see just how deep Annitou’s greed had dug into the mountainsides with nothing to show for it but more rocks.

So lay to rest Jinchi’s ‘graveyard’. Rather than buried bodies, it was the site where many a dream of riches had died.

The sky’s colors only just then began to shift from blue into the early evening red as Motonubu entered the clearing himself. The wind carried much of the smoke from the now distant fires away from this location, a small blessing given how Motonubu had been trying to cut back on his own smoke intake. Slinking around the outside perimeter of the graveyard he made sure to verify no obvious third parties lay in wait for an ambush. Once he was satisfied Motonubu slipped quietly towards the heart of the graveyard, the lowest point where the largest and most useless of the stone carvings still lay.

The oblong shadows cast by the evening sun gave him ample ability to remain mostly stealthy. The soles of his sandals made barely any noise at all as he stepped carefully in between the soft earth and avoided knocking over any pebbles or snapping any twigs. Even if one was to lay direct eyes on him, a purple-black haze flowed off him to diffuse light and conceal his exact location. Wispform’s smoke generating power might not be a terribly powerful jutsu, but Motonubu could still squeeze use from it when he could.

Near the most central part of the graveyard lay a series of long spikes of rock, piercing upwards about ten times higher than the average man. This formation almost looked like a spike trap for a giant to step on. Each spire stood close enough to the other to almost make a maze, and the deeper one woven between the spikes the harder it became to squeeze between them. The smell of freshly upturned dirt clung here quite heavily as this location was the last place Annitou excavated before giving up completely. It rested at the bottom of the ‘bowl’ the islanders had dug out in their frenzied search for treasure, and as such water tended to collect there after big rains. The island was due for a storm any day now but, for now, the tropical sun still seemed content to prevail.

Motonubu lowered himself further, nearly crawling on his hands and knees now. With that planned movement he finally pressed close enough to a rock that his lips nearly touched it. He removed the dagger from his belt and with a very slow, deliberate movement, scraped it across the hard surface of the stone.

He waited, listening intently. He did it again. The steel edge of the knife did little to mark the stone at all. Yet he repeated this, again, then again, each time waiting for some kind of response.

Rather than hearing the expected return scraping, the voice of an agitated woman wove its way through the gravestones instead. “I ain’t in the mood to play your dumb games, Motonubu. Get your ass in here.”

Motonubu’s lips pursed in displeasure. Nobody appreciated the power in secrecy, apparently.

Despite the invitation it would be another few minutes before Motonubu pulled into where Junko and her hostage had holed themselves up. This particular pocket was indistinguishable from the rest of the graveyard, apart from the fact that some of the tombstones had been knocked over to form a sort of lean-to roof. The Annitou workers originally used such locations to take a break from the humid Jinchi weather. Amusingly enough they seemed to be serving the same purpose now. As he entered he saw the always uptight Kiku-Ichimonji Junko standing at the ready just feet away, both hands on her blades. As Len Sosu had said, she looked awful- her clothing looked torn and stained in places, and the bun she kept her hair tied up in was in danger of collapsing at any moment. A quick scan didn’t reveal the location of the Annitou cadet anywhere. Motonubu’s displeasure only seemed to piss Junko off more.

“You’re late.”

“It has been a busy day.” Motonubu edged forward but Junko shifted her posture enough to dissuade him. “Is the boy alright?”

“Is your boy alright?” Junko almost seemed to be accusing Motonubu of something, but how could she know anything? “It sounded like a volcano went off just a few miles from here, and its smelled like fire all day. And that twister-”

Motonubu gave his usual shrug. “My associate Agent Len Sosu will not be joining us. General Hashimoto Daisuke has been dealt with, though. If all parties are present, we can proceed-”

“Don’t interrupt me.” Junko snorted. “I ran into some Metsina kids on the way here. They’re out for blood.”

“Daisuke’s blood,” Motonubu offered.

“My blood too.” She spat. “They have your precious dagger.”

“So I have heard.”

“Well, well.” Junko shifted her weight from one leg to the other in an odd way. Was she injured? “Garion’s gonna be happy you screwed everything up, aren’t they? No dagger, no Daisuke. What are we even doing here?”

“Worried about your payment?” Motonubu took his eyes off Junko’s swords for another moment to look for the boy again. “Fret not. You will be paid regardless of our success. That is, assuming you were successful.” His dark eyes fell back towards the furrowed brow of Junko. “Is the boy still capable of translating?”

“I don’t know.” She scoffed. “For some reason he’s very uncooperative. Might have to do with the whole kidnapping thing.”

A little bit of tense silence floated through the air, punctuated briefly by the distant call of a bird.

“Bring him out. We will talk.”

A dangerous sort of look appeared in Junko’s eyes. Motonubu tensed his muscles.

“Give me my payment and I’ll bring him out.”

Breathing through his nose, Motonubu kept his tone calm and steady. “Surely you can let me see him first. I will not pay for damaged goods.”

“I could just take what’s mine, if you are going to be difficult.”

“Hm, really?” Motonubu stood as still as a statue. Junko looked like a mousetrap that was about to go off. “Did not the Kiku-Ichimonij clan have a particularly cruel punishment for thieves? Something relating to being forced to swallow hot coals, if I recall right.”

“You aren’t exactly giving me a convincing argument here, Mr. Garion Bigshot.”

“Quite right.” He stopped breathing entirely and waited.

Right before it seemed as though Junko was about to speak, he replied again. “Annitou is sending five additional Generals to Jinchi.”

Junko’s eyes widened a bit, more in confusion than surprise. “What? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Reinforcements. You have not heard, but General Gounomouno got in an altercation with some powerful Garion Agents last night. There is a fear Jinchi might become a battlefield” Again he waited to see her response. Though Junko’s focus didn’t leave Motonubu, she did seem to be parsing his words with some thought. Better to paint a clearer picture, lest she draw the wrong conclusions.

“The Annitou Navy was stretched thin, but with the arrival of more of their troops, they’ve been able to increase their search efforts.” Another dense pause. “Squads of them are moving through the jungle as we speak. They are looking for the cadet.”

“What? Who would care about that little runt?” Junko’s scoff didn’t come out quite convincing enough. Motonubu decided to hazard another stab in the dark.

“Regardless of your personal opinion, attempting to leave the island now by yourself would require facing half a dozen Annitou Generals. A feat perhaps you think yourself capable of, given the clans you’ve massacred in the past, but...”

“But?”

“I must leave the island too, you see.” Motonubu slowly and non-threateningly lowered his head, almost like a bow. “I can offer you not just the hourglass, but safe passage home as well. I believe that is a suitable enough exchange for us to continue to work together, is it not?”

“Why should I trust-”

“I will give you the artifact.” Now he wasn’t even blinking. “The hourglass, which houses the only known remaining Assate’s Tears in existence” Now he finally moved in the small window of time allowed to him while Junko’s thoughts were tied up in this development. From beneath his concealing cloak emerged the coiled form of the crystal hourglass. Inside it still swirled various opaque liquids moving along unseen currents. The sight of it caused Junko’s eyes to snap back to attention. The tendons along her wrist tightened. Was she really still considering it?

“You’re sure?” Her words came out in short grunts now. “How do you know for sure?”

“Please.” Motonubu intoned. “No other nation but Garion is even aware of the existence of Assate’s Tears. Nobody on this island but myself and General Hashimoto Daisuke could identify the Tears, and he has nearly killed me several times in pursuit of them. You yourself witnessed its power- you would not have taken this job otherwise, am I wrong?”

It was almost imperceptible, but Junko’s throat clenched up just a bit. Was that a good or bad sign? She had allowed him to talk this much, the time was ripe for driving the point home as deep as possible.

“Years ago, a deranged priest in Garion used a similar artifact to revive a great number of Garion’s old enemies,” Motonubu rotated the hourglass slightly as if pouring out its contents. “I myself, as well as General Hashimoto Daisuke, were directly involved in resolving that conflict. I can verify the accuracy of those claims.” Talking this much while taking such shallow breaths was very exhausting, but he couldn’t drop his guard even for a moment. “Of course, these Tears will mean nothing if you cannot take them off the island. That is why I am giving it to you.”

Not much of a breeze could move between the wall of tombstones surrounding them. Neither of Junko’s hands left from her weapons. Eventually she did speak, with perhaps just a fraction less belligerent than before. “Only one? Just one person can be brought back?”

“...one is all I can promise.” Motonubu held the hourglass out. “If the Bossa speaking boy does his job, perhaps another hourglass can be found on this cursed island. But I cannot guarantee it.”

The longest silence yet descended on the pair. At a certain point Motonubu worried he might have to make an unnecessary movement because holding the hourglass out in his outstretched arm was getting too tiring. It took so long to get a response the sky above could be observed changing colors as the sun threatened to plunge the graveyard into night.

Junko breathed out her words one by one. “Leave it on the ground.” Motonubu didn’t allow himself to smile. It was always wonderful when unnecessary conflict could be avoided.