Despite her frenzied pace, finding new depths in Yumi's ass, Kaede wasn't about to stop. And the Iwa kunoichi didn't seem inclined to protest either, and her grin went wide. She leaned her head against the wall beside her hands, the motion pressing her cheek against the cold stone. Yet still, with one eye open she held a fiery gaze of utter delight and satisfaction... though she was also clearly in pain.<br/><br/>Her ass was filled to brim with cum, and the sensation only brought relief and ecstasy to her face. After Kaede had expended herself, the woman stood upright. Her ass was covered in cum, and just a small amount dripped out from within her onto the ground. "Unh!" She softly murmured, "Now we're even."<br/><br/>But in her state of rapture and haste to get out of there, the words didn't register anything meaningful to the Kumo nin. She left with Yumi's skirt, seemingly unopposed. Kaede bounded from rooftop to rooftop towards the Torii. It was on a small lake, but luckily the gate was placed within shallow water. Most people naturally assumed ninjas could walk on water, so for a ninja like Kaede such a meeting might have proven difficult otherwise.<br/><br/>Out of the corner of her eye, Kaede could have sworn she saw something flash in the alleyways and streets beneath her. Before she could do much about it, a pair of hands appeared on the edge of the roof and up came Yumi, leaping ontop of the roof in front of her. She remained nude as before, her pussy and ass wet, though it didn't seem to embarrass her in the slightest. She lowered her head, forehead protector gleaming as those orange eyes locked onto Kaede, "Going somewhere so soon?" She asked with a wild grin.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>"Oih!" Tsukire said, waving her hand, "Everything's a seduction for ninja. Even in the heat of battle, you seduce your opponent into thinking you'll attack from above, when in reality, it comes from below. But really, those three are not like the rest. They're on our side... but even so, there's a certain loyalty among the swordsmen themselves. Kitano may have killed one of their comrades to become a member, but now he<em>is</em>their comrade. You are free to go as you please, but know we have a deadline."<br/><br/>She stood up and held his hands in her own, "Thank you. Remember, be careful."<br/><br/>After they made their obeisances, the two again parted and Kakumei headed towards Sanada castle, residence of the Seven Swordsmen. It was a large and lonely place, despite being host to the group's servants, spouses, children, lovers, and whomever else was invited to stay. Despite all the other people there, the castle still seemed empty. He went through the main gate into the courtyard, spying only a single servant on her hands and knees scrubbing the wooden floor of the exterior walkways.<br/><br/>He was about to ask for help when he heard the familiar sound of steel on steel. Swords. The courtyard had a side path that led around the base of the castle into a garden- he crossed a bridge over one of the city's canals that run through the estate and came out on the other side, finding three of the swordsmen.<br/><br/>Two, he immediately guessed. An older man with a receding hairline wielding a long sword with an odd sort of rotating hook towards the end of the blade. It clashed with a huge cleaver, wielded by an equally large man. He was wild-haired and wore a face-mask that obscured his cheeks and chin. He looked very strong... the older man was wearing robes under a samurai-style breastplate. His sleeves were tied down at the elbows and his hakama pants were likewise fastened from the knee down by ninja sandals. He looked very professional.<br/><br/>The other, however, was wild, with a black shirt that exposed his strong arms and fingerless gloves. His black hair was spiky and around his waist hung his uwagi top, held there by a sash. He wore the standard forehead protector and his mask and shirt came together, obscuring is neck. His pants matched Saizo's, and he wielded a great cleaver with a perfect circular hole at the end of the blade. Despite its size, it didn't seem like he was able to overwhelm the older man's practiced defense.<br/><br/>Sitting on a rock watching the match was none other than Sumomo Kohaku. He<em>was</em>young, petting the bandaged greatsword that lay beside him. He wore a sleeveless black shirt, tight against his lithe frame, much like the cleaver's master. His forehead protector hung around his neck and he had fair features, blue eyes and hair, which was tied back into a short ponytail. His arms were wrapped in bandages and he wore plain trousers with a shuriken holster and pin-striped sandals. Tsukire was right, he looked much too gentle to be there.