Stepping backwards, Hiro avoided death by the narrowest of margins, his opponent's thin sword flashing by him almost too quickly to see, and mere moments later, was followed up with a barrage of thrusts and slashes aimed at cutting out the Hyuuga's heart. Nearby, chaos ensued. Toshio, a whirling dervish of fire and sword, struggled valiantly against four shinobi, each covered head to toe in dark clothing, their faces obscured, and each wielding some sort of claw weapon. They rushed in and out like a tide, striking and then fading back into smoke. Toshio scowled and then plastered a cocky grin on his face... which was typical of Toshio.

"Is that the best you can muster? Typical trash. I can do this all day..."

The mission had begun seven days ago. As always, at the beginning of training, they'd been called together and given their assignments. Unlike previous missions, however, this one was different. It was not assigned by his usual sensei, but jounin with faces hidden behind animal masks with a serious air. Killers.

"Hyuuga Hiro", said one of the men in a bear mask, "your record indicates you've led many missions. Can you handle leading the main forces?"

"Yes sir", he'd replied with a deep bow. Already, the situation was strange, but that was no excuse to back down and shirk responsibility.

"You've worked with Uchiha Toshio in the past. Do you wish him as your second or would you prefer someone more suited to the mission", asked the masked man pointedly.

"[i]I[/i] am suited to [i]any[/i] mission", replied Toshio, stepping out of line.

"Excuse me", said Hiro, interrupting Toshio's inappropriate tirade, "But I believed that I would be selecting my own team for the mission."

"No, Hyuuga. You will not be", replied the bear-masked shinobi. Hiro's brow furrowed unintentionally.

"Then I would like to work with Uchiha-san as my second", he said firmly. The bear nodded.

"Naturally", Toshio interjected, crossing his arms, pursing his lips, and sticking his nose in the air.

"In that case, Sarutobi Tama, you are being promoted to leader of the secondary team", the bear continued.

"I-I am? Yes sir", replied the Sarutobi with several quick and very serious bows. Hiro clenched his teeth. Were they separating out his entire team?

"Abarame Suzu, you will be her second, if it pleases her."

Yes. They were separating them.

"Now, the rest of you may open your envelope. You will find your assigned team in them. Gather together and move out immediately."

Hiro gave a quick sly glance to the rest of the group and opened his own envelope, which contained the names of his assigned team. It was large, larger than what he was used to, and filled with the same sort of ninja that he rarely spent time on. These were not the more subtle and strategy-minded members of the famous 3rd Battalion, but the hammers. 

--------------------

These rogue ninja groups had begun springing up during the tense political climate between the villages. They were well-funded, well-equipped, and seemed to be well-trained. These were not some minor village specialists (they were too competent, far too competent, and powerful) and the 3rd Battalion had been tasked with routing and capturing them. Hiro had been the natural choice to lead the main team, which pleased him, though he thought it vulgar to show it. In his mind, it was only natural that he would lead. Even if he hadn't been a Hyuuga, his flawless record spoke for itself. He'd put together a few hand-picked 


, but was not able to choose either of his usual back ups to his team... No, they made up the leadership of the second team, the stealth and support team. It was a lesson to him. It was a lesson to him, but it made him uncomfortable. He supposed that after having people with whom he worked regularly, he'd formed bonds with them, sentimentality. A weakness? It was unimportant.

Hiro's team was tasked with finding and engaging immediately, to defeat and capture or at least hold them off. It was infantry, heavy assault, and that made him uncomfortable as well. In the past, he'd led small strike teams of people he was familiar with, that he knew he could rely on; he and his chosen few would carry out quick and quiet attacks which overwhelmed the enemy before they even knew what hit them. Now... He didn't have that luxury. The famously persnickety and guarded genin had to lead whoever he was assigned, people that knew him only from a distance, who could not anticipate or coordinate with him naturally. He had been at a loss.

As they'd traveled, he'd looked for more people to delegate to, perhaps diamonds in the rough to carry his orders to the others, make them understand... But his lot was very rough. It was a team handpicked for frontal assault.