Holy shit. The man felt like a brick shit house, even if I had managed to get him off the mat. The leg I had used to topple him felt sore, something telling me he had let it happen. Nonetheless, actually managing to get him off the mat was insane - a tightness swollen in my chest. Even if I ended up on the mat too.
A knee forward, an opposite arm pushing my face off the ground. Need to be more careful. A slow exhale, returning to my feet with a backhand wiping my brow. He's heavy. Narrow eyes turned to the man, slowly raising hands parallel. My toes began to itch as I focused weight into my heels, resuming the former pattern of encircling.
There was nothing I could pull from his stance. Nothing particularly orthodox, and his lack of any particular cleanliness led me to wonder; the faintest smell sticking to my skin. Self taught?
I almost moved forward, again. My left foot slipped backwards instead, creating a further gap between the two of us. My right leg straying further ahead, trying to position the man towards me. My posture slid backwards, trying to maintain the particular footwork and plan for a - hopefully - incoming assault. Even though I've only seen this in books...
"Looks it." My own observations hadn't gone much further than Kakesu's, the sifting shadows with the faintest sound of movement from above. Another waft of rotting wood and - rotting flesh? - penetrated pinched nostrils. I wanted to puke.
Climbing up these doesn't seem impossible. Getting closer, the stairs stone base became more obvious, the weight of a first footstep creaking loudly - but holding my weight. Over my shoulder, a faint glance and nod to the kid. "You don't have to come up. I'll be back."
Probably be better for him not to see... Whatever it was. What the hell can it be?
My foot almost slipped through the floor, reaching the short ascent. Pulling it back out, splinters rained beneath, eye contact with Kakesu if he had remained beneath. A full on whiff of the space, stomach acid filling my mouth - but the light was much brighter.
Before me, in the half lit space between absolute darkness and the shine of midday; a twisted, engorged pile of twisted limbs shook. Faint glistening spotlights as eyes swam to and from, mixing freely where they wanted across the surface of its skin. Flowing freely, my vomit joined the smell; distinctly, it was notably more pleasant. "Fucking hell..." My voice trailing off, another step closer as fingers curled tighter around my swords hilt.
It was - or had - been a man at one point. Fingers, legs, arms - all of it was there, just... Bloated. Where there had been skin was a thick, black mass - new skin, bursting on each surface with eyes. Mouths popped open and close, like the pattering of a loose rain. Another faint sound, almost words echoing from a drowning voice. Quietly, I watched its movement, the guttural speech falling on deaf ears. ....Okay, then.
"Alright, I'll kill you." Quiet, under my breath, followed with another step. The sound of metal freeing into the air, the wet thunk of metal on flesh. Blood curdled as it hit the air, rotting freely as eyes seized up, limbs attempting, failing to flail. Another stab downwards, and another spasm. Again and again again again again - until there was no more.
I had no idea how long it took, time seemed to disappear between my fingers. An hour, a minute - no difference. Yet I drew myself back up regardless, blade freely swinging through the air as I descended back down the steps, the weapon slick with green and black blood. "Let's go." I'd command to the wanderer, face creased into disgust. Today was going to be a hard memory to get rid of.
Fist hit bone, snapping back the Kumogakure's neck, blood erupting from between his lips. No doubt some mix of broken teeth and blood rising in his guts, but I'm no doctor. Either way, he was dying, if not dead from the shock of it already. Focused on the blossoming corpse in front of me, I didn't have the time to notice the blur approaching.
A kick slammed into my side, barely managing to bring the sword with me as I was flung backwards, my opposite hand tugging at Tadaaki. An instinctive pull, I wasn't aware of the incoming blade, but expected some kind of follow-up. As my balance regained, Tagaaki's faltered, a faint hiss filling the air. The man fell to his knees, tongue lolling from his mouth; rolling quietly away from his body.
The rain of blood spurted a small geyser, the corpse toppling in its entirety. The masked assailant would be splattered in it if he wasn't careful, and I was far from removed enough to avoid it either. "Fucking, dammit!" this time a yell as I backed further away, quickly sheathing my sword, tightening my grip.
It's going perfectly. A grimace stretched across my face, shouting plainly. "HELP! A KUMOGAKURE SHINOBI IS ATTACKING US!" rang loudly, my gaze locking onto the masked man. My eyes grew wide, staring quietly at him as I fortified my stance. "You don't wanna be caught, do you?"
No one wearing a mask did it to advertise who they were.
Makoto's display of animosity wasn't particularly well received. If you could call being all-but-ignored received at all. I was starting to wonder why any of them had even bothered to gather - but the less thought given to that was for the better.
"Yeah, uh," my voice trailed off, sifting through the various looks of the crowd. Dazed, angry, tired - it had been a late night, after all. "I don't think they're particularly interested, sensei." A look back at the bouncer, the goliath shaking his head at the woman. Definitely not.
Something felt off. Admittedly, who I'd heard about this place from wasn't the brightest - but that was Kirigakure for you. I almost moved towards the bouncer, the reminder that I had actually won my bet blinking faintly into existence behind a wall of concern for our newly forming situation.
As if on cue, the tiny man with golden teeth scrambled his way towards me, throwing up a small sack of coin. Grabbing it with a flick of my wrist, I noticed the size of the other bets getting returned. A faint tingle shot down my spine. "Let's just get out of here, yeah?" I continued, extending a hand to pull Makoto into the crowd and out of town.
Long gazes, measures of character, merit - all of it bullshit. As much as I wanted to assume, to create an image of whoever the man in front of me was, I very much lacked the ability to do so. On the other hand, he seemed plainly capable. Kumogakure... The man's name clicked, not that I'd let the recognition show.
This was the right choice, looks like. The thought went quiet, my feet starting to inch around the mat. Slow toe curls accompanied the sidesteps, inching me closer to Seiichi. The question of whether or not I could even throw him was one I wasn't prepared to answer, but was going to have to. The size of him was... Detrimental, to say the least. But no time like the present.
Jumping forward, my right foot landed on the mat as my left swung under, hands reaching for the front of the man's gi with itchy fingers. A de-ashi-barai throw that would land him to my side if successful, using his own weight to drop him. Stick to the basics. Focus.
I had to turn this into a meeting of fate and opportunity, or it'd just be a waste of time.
Seiichi Koji | 199 words | the wheels on the bus -
Something in my gut told me Nobukatsu was a tad ornery. The shift in tone, the glare - the repeated shooing of cats. Good. A hand idly rested on my Iai-Tachi, a faint chuckle radiating outwards.
"You have to ask?" A raised brow accompanying a sharp grin, motioning to the weapon with my opposite hand. "Attack me."
My left foot slid behind my right, weight shifting backwards. The majority of my own footwork had been taught a bit more orthodox - but those who can't, teach. Doubt I'm going to be the best teacher. Assuming he bothered to follow the instruction, my body would buck back and forth, avoiding any slashing movement. Dropping my weight onto my back leg and letting it drop down; creating enough of a gap each time for the wakizashi to hit nothing but air.
A wag of my finger followed, smile widening to bright white teeth. "Keep it going!" A plain attempt to egg him on, I'd continue my backpedaling motion, swiveling my upper body into a faux fall if he attempted a stab. Largely, the footwork looked more impressive than it was. With even a couple afternoons of training, it was possible - after all, it was just controlled falling.
A few bumps of the shoulder, the tussle of a moving crowd in midday being more of a hassle than I expected. Nearly tripping a few times in my mad dash, dirty looks were not few, nor far between. Long as I can get my afternoon back, fuck all of you. Maybe not the healthiest worldview.
Finally, I'd manage to pop out into a much less crowded walkway, leading past a corner and towards Tanigaki's Pastries, a rather large bakery that opened a few years past. Always heard good things, never bothered to hunt it down. Thankfully, the red-headed loudmouth waving his arms made the place a bit easier to find.
Raising my own hand in response, I took a step forward to only be assaulted by a small swarm of cats, seemingly materializing from underneath a bread dumpster. Running between, around, and some almost aiming to go up my legs, the tumble of fur was gone in a flash, leaving me with a sash of fur I neither wanted nor requested. "I- yeah, okay, that was weird." Commenting, I finally caught up to Gauma, reaching into my waistband.
"Alright, let's see if that's the real cat." I motioned him forward, pulling out a small rat-shaped doll. "Lady said the cat would go crazy if we showed it this. Only way to know its the right one, she swears." Not like she could've told us any unique features the cat had, just that it was orange.
Coulda swore I saw another three orange cunts in that group. Almost muttering it out loud, I tossed over the toy. Hoping - almost praying - for it to be the right one.
We were filed out of the building, sunlight pouring down blindingly. A few errant blinks as the most stray of tears loosened itself. How long were we in there? Felt like a lifetime.
"Now, we're continuing on with a practical demonstration that we want all those free to participate in." sounded out, followed by a far more audible groan from the crowd, myself included. The sound of a bark shifted my head, almost in excitement. Glad to see you for once, sensei.
I turned back to the bear woman, a now toothy grin having spread wide.
"Sorry," I motioned off to the side of the exiting crowd, "I've got a ticket out of here." My finger decidedly pointing at a woman surrounded by dogs. With a small smile, I'd turn away from the bear-woman, waving. "Have fun with whatever crap they're putting you through!"
Thankfully, I had a reason to get away. Bomb disposal's one hell of a way to go, though.
[EXIT]
@kurogaru | 162 words | I have no idea where to take this; post and we'll call it a wrap?
"Pansy." I scoffed under my breath at the Hyuga. The bear's roar wasn't exactly the closest, but they could move fast if they wanted. A few horror stories of getting chase down - well, in Kirigakure, you got used to hearing about it.
I'd watch Asura doing his ritual, taking the moment to focus. Actually, wait. Bait? a new thought crossing my mind, a faint smile starting to show. Maybe I misjudged you some. Might be ranked higher for a reason. Who would've thought?
"Poachers can't be good." I replied, starting to back away from the scene of our slaughter. "We need to recover some. Or I do, whatever makes you happier about it." The slight shift in tone as I continued to inspect the forest around us, mulling over our position. Everything was a mess after the scuffle, no noticeable tracks beneath the turnover of dirt and spritz of blood.
Where the hell did they come from? darted in the back of my skull, but not before another roar. This one was much closer.
"Asura, hide!" The vestiges of adrenaline carried me to start climbing a tree, breathing heavy. "If it's coming this way we might be able to get the drop on it!" It occurred to me as I climbed that this idea probably wasn't the most well thought out, but I still continued onwards. Forming handseals as I took a perch, a deep breath followed, hoping that Asura had done something before the bear showed.
The crash of branches, a blurry mess of fur rampaging towards us.
Half of me hadn't expected him to be thrown, the other half expected him to throw me - somehow. Yet here we were.
The change in dynamic wasn't going to last long. Whether or not I had the ability to use that oppurtunity for it... Time to figure out. With the way clear, a step forward would bring my newly freed blade forward. A curved spear, my knee buckled - slamming my weight into a single forward thrust to impale the Kumogakure shinobi through his gut. Forced Seppuku.
Thrusting wasn't something I had practiced in my wheelhouse. In this situation it'd work out a fair bit better, carrying all of the force I had used to hold blades against the masked man into it. Unless the cloud nin turned out to be some kind of freak, my sword pierced through, the faint thunk against bone as the tip lodged into his spine. There'd be no surviving it.
Practically falling forward into the motion, recognizing and reacting to the shuriken wasn't particularly possible. One found itself near my collarbone, another flying past my head towards Tadaaki. A drop of blood running down my face as I continued to fall forward; into the blade, shifting as much of my weight as possible into it. A gasp racked from the Kumogakure nin, the madly-running Tadaaki pausing for a moment, only to deliver a massive haymaker to the unfortunate soul with a shuriken lodged in his eye.
"FUCKING JACKASS!" the other Kirigakure resident yelled; shit very much having hit the fan.
The bubbling tension of a flaring anger. Each step, each impediment, another drop for the cauldron. How hard did it have to be to enjoy a day alone? Can't just get the annoying assholes out of my life for an afternoon so I can find some fun stuff. Nooooooo. My nostrils flared, the weight of earth against my sword straining against me.
A rip backwards, steps were shallow, slipping through the sand with little resistance. The drag would've been more problematic if I cared to actually create distance, but that wasn't going to be a need for that. A long exhale followed, spinning my blade to sheath it. More sand surged, move seals woven by the Hyuga as his eyes seemed to rip from his face. So that's what the byakugan looks like.
Learn something new every day.
My hands still gripped tight around the hilt and sheath, another step forward. The sand tossed around my ankles, flying pellets trying and failing to enter my - rather narrow - eyes.
Another step forward. "Go on then, do something to impress me." My arm was tense, ready to spring. If he reacted to the taunt -"This shit is a parlor trick." - He'd be getting a bit of a haircut.
"I have no fucking idea." my response was hushed, each word bursting with panic. The muscle in my leg started to scream, taking a moment to realize how much force I was putting into staying still. The atmosphere in here... But what the fuck is that thing?
Curiosity has been said to kill cats - thankfully, I was a bit sturdier than that. But another step still felt like torture.
The creak of the floor as my weight shifted, the faint slip of air from a clenched jaw. The light still diffusing through dust, my eyes continued to adjust, pinching my nose shut. "It's.... Trying to talk. If I'm trying to creep you out, I think it's asking -" a pause in the nasal tinged speech, biting my lip for a second. No.
"It's begging for help." As tears began to well in the array of eyes, dropping audibly as rain. A shock down my spine, and an attempt to look further past it. The ceiling had obviously taken a large amount of rot, and the thing had collapsed through the floor. Or at least, that's what the chunk of splinters holding it in place said. A glance further back showing stairs, all but ready to collapse from being stared at.
"Upstairs?" a question asked out loud, the pause that followed pregnant, and ready to pop.
A raise of my hand, stepping forward to the man as I shook my head. "Sweeps are good, but I've only practiced judo." Maybe not the best thing to say aloud in what could be potential enemy territory, but for now things were friendly - there was no need to sour the mood on it. Not here, not now. Particularly with this one.
It wouldn't take much of a glance past the man's initial few movements; practiced, well formed. Whoever the hell he was - Seiichi, apparently - he had more than a few spars under his belt. Should I even...? the thought trailed off, a faint sigh rolling underneath my tongue. "Call me Benkei. Benkei of the sword, if you like." A step over the threshold, moving towards the man.
Doubt continued to caress my chest, but what the hell, I wasn't going to let it be boring.
"So, bear pelt, Seiichi, are you from around here?" my head tilted forward, feet flattening to the floor as I took a stance. "I didn't know this was a hermit village." A continued quip, arm extending forward in a greeting motion. "Either way though, I'll play."
A bead of sweat down the middle of my back, the twitch of a finger, and we'd be off.
Each blow was decisive against the giant. His eyes visibly turning a stark white as they rolled back, arms still continued to swing. As he fell back, one final blow was swung at the Inuzuka woman, spinning the goliath of man as he slammed face first into the sand. For a moment, the crowd felt a buzz of excitement, a stir of the man's form - then nothing.
The crowd fell eerily silent; he was Well and truly passed out. The bouncer appeared from within the crowd to check Sasuke's pulse, a shake of the head confirming the results as he raised Makoto's arm and his voice. "WINNER!" Some among the crowd clapped for Makoto, myself included as I waded near the edge of the arena, fighting elbows and kicks from the rowdier crowd members.
I'd raise my hand to whistle at her, waving with my other. "Congrats!", probably the closest thing to a cheer in the entire crowd. No one was into it tonight, it seemed.
Makoto Inuzuka | 166 words | short one - grab the lead, and we can finish it off in 2 more
The hospitality upon arriving to Otogakure had been pleasant enough, but everything past that was bare. The kind of backup rations you'd give mid war relief, and bedding that might as well have been nails on a board. My own meeting with the locals hadn't gone as well as I wanted either, the faint swelling in my right arm stinging as I dressed.
I should go back. Only decent fun I've had since getting here. I grunted with the thought, and a stretch. Of course, I didn't expect Otogakure to treat us like royalty, but the conditions felt like a slap in the face. But there was no point in dwelling on it.
Picking up my Iai-Tachi as left the lodging, a wave at Makoto was the only signal that I'd be gone for the day. The dojo I'd found was nearby, maybe two blocks away - was a short walk to arrive, anyway.
The door slid open, a step forward revealing... One guy? My head raised in curiosity, another step forward as I slid the door closed behind myself. "You kill the rest of them?" I joked, hanging my cloak at the door. "Coulda swore there were people in here before."