“Woo Weeee!”
The crowd roared along with the wind, cheering, screaming and leaping for his attention. He got into the groove, moving with the rhythm of the instrumentalists volunteering to bolster his work.
“Killer Bee’s in the house, better brace for the storm,
Spittin’ rhymes so cold, but my flow’s always warm!
Eight tails on my back, and the rhythm’s on track,
Lightning in my veins, ain’t no holdin’ me back!”
The chicks and babes swooned, their voices went hoarse from their screams and they flung themselves over the arms of his concert aides to get an inch closer.
“Crowd go wild when I spit that fire,
Killer Bee’s the name, always takin’ it higher!
So hands in the air if you feelin’ my vibe,
Kumo-nin in the building, let’s keep this alive!”
The crowd continued to roar and Killer Bee bopped and danced up on the stage. He whipped out three of his swords and juggled them from his hands to the back of his knee and then tossed in the air to spin on the pommels of one another as they fell back into their scabbards.
He slid out on his knees and rocked out, “Wooo Weee!!”
The crowd roared with him but without as much vigour as the last time. There were murmurs, startled exclamations mixed within their call for an encore. What’s this commotion, I see some distraction, better fix this quick, or we’re losin’ the action!
From atop the stage Killer Bee surveyed the crowd, they were distracted, out of the vibe and all especially in the back. His back up musicians stopped rocking their instruments once they noticed his concern and with their music quelled the clamour at the back of the concert became louder and more fearful.
Killer Bee lost his smile the moment the crowd lost their vibe, but hearing fear in any of the voices was the truest opposite of what he was rapping Enka for. He leaped, flipping through the air until he landed on the concert grounds back railing. The wind billowed his scarf as he teetered on the edge, a long drop through the clouds awaited him but he wasn’t looking for an adrenaline fuzz tonight.
He hopped off and approached the back of his concert, his fans, most shinobi had grouped around something and were all murmuring in a mix of hushed and startled voices. “Oi! Lord Jinchuriki’s here, lemme through, ya know the drill. Step aside for Killer Bee, I’mma find what’s re-!”
They’d parted an opening the moment he raised his voice and he walked right into the centre where a young kunoichi held a severed head in her hands with a tormented look on her face. There was a small box spilled over, another head was in it and one other had rolled out of it.
Killer Bee took the head from the young kunoichi, turned it around and squinted at it behind his brown shades, “Ayo! The show’s over, I’ll handle this, no stress, Killer Bee’s on the case, gonna clean up this mess, ya fool!”
Those that hadn’t seen, glimpsed or heard what was happening here moaned and complained but they left. The crowd dispersed and Killer Bee returned the heads to the box they’d been found in. The box itself came with a message stamped underneath it that read;
‘Lost, Found and Returned.’
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
****
Killer Bee barged right into his brother’s office without a word to the cute secretary that’s always perched before it. She ran in along with him and bowed to his brother as she stuttered, “Lord Bee is here to see you, Raikage-sama. He wouldn’t let me show him in or announce hi-”
“Aniki, you’ve got trouble, it’s down to the streets! I opened a box, laid out the heads,” Killer Bee opened the box, the sight shut up the secretary and the smell got his brother to stop pumping iron and look over his shoulder with an angry scowl. “It’s Kaito, Yuuya, Mishima…they’re all dead.” The mention of their names got his brother to release the massive dumbbell, it crash and made a deep indent in the floor.
“Where did you get that, Bee?” Ay, his brother, the Raikage demanded. His face held an unpleasant scowl on it, going closer and closer to a frown of worry rather than anger. A rare emotion for his brother. He eyed the open box, his nose wrinkled in disgust, annoyance and rage as he closed it shut, “Was there a message with it?”
“A fan gave it to me, found it during my concert. Yuuya, Mishima, they’re not the only ones are they?” Killer Bee never cared for the burden of being ‘Ay’, he knew there were choices only ‘Ay’ could make, choices he wouldn’t make even if he were somehow to become ‘Ay’.
But that’s why he was Bee. Since their father had died he’d become the protector, the guardian of Kumogakure at the command of his brother Ay, the Fourth Raikage. He had not left the village ever since. From that point on and through the rest of the war, he blew up enemies that would dare encroach with long range [Bijuu Bomb] and lived up to his responsibility.
The war had ended a year now and all Bee wanted to do was soothe and entertain the weary shinobi of Kumogakure with vicious raps and wicked Enka rhymes. That was going to be a problem if severed heads kept attending.
“What’s the deal, heads returnin’ to the village, shinobi gone missin’? Let me handle this, but you won’t, will you, Aniki?” Killer Bee said and his brother’s scowl turned fierce.
“Mabui!” he barked for the woman that stood right beside him, “Get that from my brother and arrange a proper funeral for those shinobi. Get me the border captain, I want to know how those miscreants got in to do this under his watch. And then get me a map!”
“Yes sir!” She was already moving before he completed his sentence, she relieved Bee of the box and hurried out the room to finish her new task.
When the door shut Killer Bee stepped closer and was about to ask again when his brother finally started talking, “It is our enemies, the Hidden Mist, they’ve discovered the agents I sent. This will be the start of their retaliation…I know it.” His fists clenched tight as he spoke, his voice almost a roar, “A mission failure after…raarggh!”
Killer Bee didn’t flinch as his brother’s fist crashed through yet another table and shattered the blue tiled floor underneath. “Kiri? Mist village creepin’ silent like smoke, what’s the beef, Bee wanna take a poke!”
“Enough, Bee. Return to your training or your concert. This is not a matter you should concern yourself with.” Ay grunted, breaking the floor some more as he yanked his gauntlet arm free. “The Raikage will handle Kirigakure and whatever more errors they have yet to make.”
Killer Bee was doubtful, worried in fact. The tremble of fear in his fans' voices still lingered in the back of his mind, “Mizukage, Raikage, y’all need to chat, stop this beef before it gets fat, ya fool!”
Ay snapped a glare at him but his eyes narrowed in thought rather than explode with anger, “The Mizukage huh. His shinobi arrived months ago looking to talk about their dead Third Mizukage, fools. This one now is…Mabui! Mabui!”
The young woman came walking in a hurry again, “Yes sir?” she glanced at the broken table and sighed.
“Remind me, who is the current Mizukage?”
“Yagura Karatachi, the one regarded as-”
“The Repulse-nin.” Ay completed, stroking his trimmed white beard as he sat in front of his broken table. “I know of him but it seems he doesn’t know of me.”
“Sir, he is also the Three-Tails Jinchuriki and covert reports state a level of mastery akin to that of Lady Yugito.” Mabui quickly cited, her hands clasped tight behind her back.
“A Jinchuriki as a Kage? Even worse than being a mere pup. The Mist must truly be desperate. They lost their famed swordsmen in the war and their Mizukage, and are busy with a civil war aren’t they? That Mizukage shouldn’t…he shouldn’t be paying attention.”
“The civil war wrapped up about three weeks ago sir, I gave you the reports on our observations and our losses. The team assigned to the Baron-” Ay raised a fist and Mabui shut her mouth.
“Bee.” his brother called, his voice a low and dire rumble, “Don’t do anything stupid, do you get me!?”
Killer Bee thought and he couldn’t bring himself to say he wouldn’t. After all, how interesting is a Jinchuriki that’s a Kage? He must be extremely strong.
“Yagura’s strong, but nothin’ the Bee can’t handle...ya fool!”