Karumo pushed the gate to the clan compound open, the slow creaking of the iron hinges rang out through a cold and quiet air. He pushed it forward with one hand, it slide across the gravel and made a loud and obnoxious noise, only because in retrospect the rest of the compound was absolutely dead. He lead his head forward and looked around, his sandals crunched in the gravel of the walk way within, he had sent word that he was back in the village. Checked in with the administration before heading home and was now here to relax and take some time off after returning from his mission(s). But the compound was absolutely empty, eerily so, not that it was ever known for vibrancy or anything of the sorts but there would always be an older person(s) out for a walk or sitting on a bench int he courtyard and the sound of children laughing and playing could usually be heard as well as the sound of the breeze through their mountain compound. But today, even the breeze had trouble lasting for more than an instant within their slice of the mountain. He began to walk around to the center of the courtyard, looking around for the sight of anyone, maybe peeping from a window or running along a path higher up the mountain but nothing at all from anyone. Karumo set his bag and his backpack down next to a bench and removed his jacket, now just in his pants and a t-shirt, he used his hand to block the sun from his eyes and look further ahead and around the place. Late afternoon, the sun began to set, and would face directly into their homes and the buildings of it all.

Karumo jumped up to a nearby tree, the tallest one he could find and looked around, still nothing at all, but the breeze was stronger from on high. He sighed, a small sense of worry began to set in and he began to analyze the situation, The village would have told me if something happened, right? Unless the village itself had something to do with it? But that thought is irrational in itself, the clan may have been disgruntled at me and the village but not to the point of a coup? Would they? As he thought back he remembered how far he had actually begun to distance himself from them. In his effort to bring them to prominence and to get the clan involved with the village and it's affairs, he had all but abandoned the isolationist ways of the former clan. But he wondered if to the point where they would revolt? And the consequences stemming from there....

Karumo jumped down from the tree, landing with his knees slightly bent, and in the silence of the moment he heard the thin slicing of air from all around him. Luckily for him, his recent mission kept his skills of observation and readiness at their peak, he hadn't had a moment off for days now, traveling through the wilderness and hostile terrain. His guard hadn't dropped just yet, his unlikely follower from Sunagakure guaranteed that and its affects hadn't worn off. Kunai and shuriken flew towards him, from multiple directions, he drew his sword in one quick motion and jumped forward from where he stood, he deflected a few and let some of the others miss his body that were off target. He counted all the projectiles he could, his skill of deduction would be paying off here as he began to analyze, no more than 20 shuriken, with up to 4 in each hand of a skilled fighter, he figured that there were at least 4 people who delivered in that attack. 2 of the shuriken fell short of where he stood, thrown by amateurs at best? It's unlikely that 20 people each threw one object, there are anywhere from 4-10? people at most trying to ambush me. And with their lack of skill and their inability to capitalize on the surprise, there's no way that they're ANBU. his eyes wildly searched around in front of him. Three of his attackers burst forth from the shadows and alleys of a house, he heard two more from his left and two more from his right. He stood with his knees heavily bent and his center of gravity incredibly low, these people may not be very skilled but what they lacked in ability they could certainly try to make up for in numbers.

They all burst forth with an assortment of weapons, swords, staff, even a man with a scythe ran towards him and they prepared to attack in unison. He engaged them in spectacle, at first he jumped towards the three, his speed left the others in a flash. Severely lacking in skill, maybe their numbers won't save them. he continued to analyze each movement. Of the three in front of him, all dressed in all black and even their faces covered, two carrying katanas of a rusty sort and the other a wooden staff. He engaged them heavily and used the momentum of their attacks against them, it was as he exchanged blows with one person. He let his staff slide on his sword and Karumo sent him down with a heavy knee to his gut, their durability was also lacking in that he was putting them away with little to nothing. But his eye caught something, the man he struck had purple eyes, the same as him with the first release of their Dojutsu unlocked. One man down and six more to go, they attacked wildly and without direction, sloppily timing their attacks off each other, no better than an academy student or a new genin might do. But each of them brought with them a set of purple eyes, only two of them with the dojutsu itself unlocked in any form.

Upon realizing their lineage and relation to himself, he probably knew all of them, he wondered of some perverted test an elder might have put on to truly test Karumo and his skill. This could be the form of a coup, but there were better men to try and take him on. He brought his opponents down one at a time, using simple taijutsu and heavy blows rather than cutting them or killing them. He'd never live with the mistake of killing his clan members whether they had it coming or not, he got to a point where he brought three of them down, and the remaining four surrounded him. The bodies of the three had been left a distance away and they stood now in the center of the courtyard. From the upward path from the rest of the compound, he heard a voice call out, "Water Style: Exploding Water Colliding Wave!" it rang out through the air. The voice was of someone much older and more mature sounding, the four enemies he was engaged with jumped back and Karumo turned himself to a large wave of water heading straight for him, the bodies of unconscious ninja out of the way.

Inhaling deeply, he felt like he was shifting the air itself, his stomach and chest expanded to what felt like nearly twice its natural size. He threw a few hand seals and dropped his sword to speed up the process of molding chakra and ended on the Horse sign, "Fire Style: Great Dragon Flame!" An extremely thick blanket of flames pursed from his lips, taking the form of a Dragon's head almost immediately after. He intended to counteract the immense amount of water with his own high heat attack. Expelling all that he could in a fluid and continuous motion it hit the wave of water just at the last second, the sound of searing rung through the air and steam began to form wildly about the courtyard. A moment later and the leftover water rushed harmlessly over his sandal, so little of it left but so much must have been created to fully neutralize the Fire Style attack in itself. The water rushing over was warm, like a hot bath and Karumo picked up his sword again, steam rose up rapidly from the water, standing in the center of it all began to blur the background of the compound.

What rose in the wake of the aftermath stood several more ninja, the original four he had engaged he noticed about and the three he incapacitated were still lying on the ground towards the edge of the courtyard. Between the mass of ninja, all dressed in all black, some dawning the symbol of the clan in their uniform (think stereotypical ninja here) were two or three older men at the center of the path up the compound. Of them, he recognized two, having seen them before somewhere, but he couldn't quite put his finger on their names or why they were so familiar outside being members of his clan. The third man he knew, Akatsuchi Fantamusodo, essentially his exact opposite as far as anyone was concerned. He compete directly against Karumo and wanted to lead the clan himself, thinking that Sekuro's ideology was against the mantra of the clan, a vocal proponent of his actions as well. If it were up to an election, then Karumo might have very likely lost to him and he might have been exiled from the clan itself on principle. Akatsuchi himself was dressed as many elders were, a very regal and well dressed kimono of his own. White primary with grey bordering and the clan symbol embroidered to the back, he kept one arm tucked away and the other on his walking stick. The Water Style attack was obviously his but he must have moved so quickly, there was more to him than he might have originally thought.

But despite the skill of a few elder members, Karumo knew he could take all but a few in a one on one fight within the clan, his only threat at this point were the numbers they had over him. Now, he estimated maybe thirty people stood armed and ready against him. Akatsuchi stepped forward a few steps, slowly with his stick in front of him. "Not bad, Karumo Sekuro. Maybe your time playing in the affairs of the village have taught you a thing or two then." the old man chuckled slightly as he continued to walk forward, the steam evaporating and restoring the scenery of the compound behind it. "I could say the same for you, I didn't know but a select few could use ninjutsu in this clan, and especially not at that level. I thought you men who sit so close to death might be more advanced with a sword, or even your walking stick there." Karumo responded snidly. He was angry at the warm welcome he had received from a man who so openly attempted to rival against him.

"Watch your tone kid, You'd hate to see how much more advanced my skills truly are." he hastened himself in his speech. He was clearly tired of this game as it was.

Karumo exhaled heavily and spoke back, "So, you made your bit. What is this? Some perverted test of my own skills or prowess? You are aware I could have killed them if I had not noticed their eyes?" Karumo shot out at him. He sent back his own frustration two fold at him, he was tired of whatever game he might be playing at it this point and if this was merely nothing. Some test meant to play at another motive? He had been tired and was aggravated at the verbal attests to his leadership and decision making and now he was being prodded at even further.

With one last call, he yelled out at the top of his voice, "So, what is it then? I don't take you dumb enough to try a coup in broad daylight, and risking the clans well being for it. But maybe my assumption was wrong. So let's have at it then!" He was no longer concerned with analyzing the situation or making deductions to it all, his rage was focused and his target was now in front of him.

[2066 words]

Karumo's Chakra 230/250:

Other jutsu used:

Battle.

Those sounds were unmistakable. Shindou knew beyond a shred of doubt that the clang of metal and the breaths of fire he were hearing were the irrefutable noises of a skirmish. There was only one place close enough to where he was, in the mountains in Iwagakure, where a battle of the scale he was hearing could be raged. There was also only one place close enough that was politically attractive enough to necessitate a battle going on in probably the midle of nowhere.

The Fantomusodo Clan Compound.

His clan.

It had been pure chance that Shindou had dropped by the clan compound today, though it seemed as if he had picked a bad day to pay his supposed family a visit. He didn’t know how he felt about the battle that could be raging at the compound. On one hand, they were supposed to be his blood relatives, the people who shared the same substance in his veins as was proven by their eyes, and his. On the other hand, he had been brought up without ever seeing the clan compound for himself, and without having another Fantomusodo express any concern for finding him, even as he remained in hiding from most of the world.

Shindou sighed even as his feet carried him to the source of the noises. Before this, he had never had a compulsion or a desire to even think of the clan compound, but this morning had been starkly different. This morning, he had woken up as he always did, but just as he did, there had been a strong surge of emotion in his heart. He felt as if he was losing something, as if something was being taken away from him, and there seemed to be a void in his heart that kept growing and growing.

Shindou wasn’t a man of emotion. He had been able to suppress most of his emotions, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel them. No, he was just used to ignoring them, but that had been because he had never felt them at this magnitude. This was on a level that he was unused to, and he wa sure that the shock of this sudden emotion of loss was visible in his face, even if the more obvious sign had been the right hand gripped firmly on his heart, which was the condition that his sister had saw him in when she had come up to his small room in their small wooden cottage to call him down for breakfast.

Even when he had declared to her that he was alright, that he was fine, she had for once not taken his words to heart. She had given him three thorough medical checkups in the time span of one morning. She had been especially concerned about the condition of his heart, since it must’ve hurt a lot (by her logical deduction) for Shindou to have let it show so clearly on his face. Sena had been clearly perturbed over his condition, demanding that he remain in bed for the remainder of the day after asserting that he had overworked himself in the recent weeks. It was only after he promised to drink a special brew of hers that she had relented and stopped pestering him to lie back down and rest.

Shindou hadn’t gone on his daily missions as he was supposed to, though.

It wasn’t entirely his fault. Initially, he had been walking up to the administration building as was habitual every morning, covered from head to toe in his black and blue garments with white bandages, with the only opening being the small slit that allowed his eyes to gaze past his surroundings. He was halfway through with his journey, when his feet had suddenly stopped and the strange sensation had returned, as if it was a call he was supposed to heed. It was unexplainable, but he was drawn into a certain direction like he was a beacon, and he was faintly aware that the only thing there was the Fantomusodo clan compound.

Mysterious.

Nevertheless, he had let curiosity win out this time, and his feet brought him to the familiar mountainous areas of the Land of Earth. These were dangerous places to be in for people, but Shindou wasn’t your average person. Anyone with an ounce of ninja training could probably get out of these lands alive, and Shindou had more than what others would term ‘an ounce’, and if that failed he trusted himself cunning enough to get out of whatever situation would befall him.

Maybe.

Of course, that had been before his battle senses had begun flaring and the faint sounds of a fight had reached his ears. He had then broken off into a small jog, which then quickly sprinted out into a run, and had ended up on the mountainsides overlooking what was probably one of the rare expanses of open space nestled between the many mountains that surrounded this place.

And sitting right in the middle of this expanse was the Fantomusodo clan compound. And sitting right in front of it, was a bloodless bloodbath.

One man stood among several fallen ninja, and faced off even more, probably enough to even make the Tsuchikage rethink his strategies before implementing them flawlessly. This was most certainly the Fantomusodo clan, as seen from some of the symbols on the compound’s walls, but it would appear that he had caught them at a bad time. Was this a coup? If so, it was a very well-orchestrated one, and one that probably had been planned for a very long time, given how many Fantomusodo members were present and given how only one man seemed to be resisting their advances.

It didn’t look like a coup, though. Normally, a coup would be a face off between two sides, not one side and one man. There ought to be someone on the man’s side, though they could have been taken out. They could have been the fallen ninja around his feet, even as he faced off the ridiculous numbers of clan ninja that made Shindou glad he had not sprinted straight into the heart of things. He was but a mere Genin, despite what people liked to say and despite the praise that his sister liked to shower him with.

What was this then? A traitor? Was the man someone who had done the clan wrong, and was he currently being apprehended? The clan could have been pursuing him, only for him to cut down the first few of their members when they had attacked, and the lack of blood he could see could be attributed to any form of jutsu that the man had. Most likely Medical Ninjutsu or Genjutsu, the latter of which he would have a lot of difficulty fighting if he was found out.

“So you made your bit!” he heard the man say. “What is this? Some perverted test of my own skills or prowess? You are aware that I could have killed them if I had not noticed their eyes?”

Yes, it would appear he had caught them at a very bad time.

“So, what is it then?” the single man continued. “I don’t take you dumb enough to try a coup in broad daylight, and risking the clan’s well being for it. But maybe my assumption was wrong. So let’s have at it then!”

As the man continued speaking, Shindou remained perched on his spot at the mountainside, keen on just watching the events unfold. At this distance, he was sure that, unless they were concentrating on locating him, they wouldn’t be able to spot him too easily, and with their attention all on the man before them, and his attention on them, he was sure that he could remain out of sight for quite a while more, and he was content with just watching the spectacle before him, aware that if he jumped in at any point without enough information, it could be a political disaster, not to mention that either side would probably eliminate him quicker than he would realise.

WC: 1372

Fukai scribbled the last few words of his report with lazy, scrawling handwriting. It was the report of the mission that he had carried out. It had gone off without a hitch but he was confined to this paperwork regardless. The mission had been a late one the night before, escorting prisoners from the outskirt settlements to the village holding cells. The trek had been arduous but uneventful. He had ended up heading to bed late in the night and then getting up early to do this boring duty. Fukai was fine with it at this point, he had long since resigned himself to his clerkish fate when he had the jump in responsibility with the rank up. It would all be over soon, he only had to finish this up and then he had the rest of the day off. It would be good to get out into the fresh air and spend the rest of the day training. Slowing his heart rate with a mantra of motions, meditating with each practiced kata.

He stood and stretched his legs, rolling up the scroll and heading downstairs. He trotted down to the ground floor and headed over to the elderly lady at the reception. This old woman had used to be his supervisor, back when he was a genin. He never had a sensei so the woman served as someone to touch bases with and monitor his progress. She had gotten to know him quite well and had become friendly towards him despite his lack of enthusiasm for any sort of relationship. She smiled when she saw him, the corners of her eyes crinkling. She thanked him for the report and turned around to seal it away in a cabinet. There it would be transported to a secure warehouse that also served as a library of paper trails. Fukai had turned to leave when she mentioned something that he had been waiting to hear ever since he had got back from Kumogakure. "I hear that Karumo is back in town, he is going up to the compound today. If you have nothing else to do, you should meet him." Fukai returned her smile and thanked her for the tip and then left.

Karumo was finally back from his business in Suna? That was pleasing to hear, he was starting to wonder wether he had gotten himself in way over his head again. Fukai headed for the gate, jogging up the mountain path after checking in with the border guards. They had a lot to catch up on, Fukai wondered if he already knew how he had gone in the chuunin exams as it was a big deal considering that it was the first time that their clan had been presented on the world stage. But more importantly to Fukai personally, was that he wanted to simply see him and see how he had been. The white haired shinobi had changed quite a bit from what he had been like before his trip. He had seen a little bit of the world and had grown both in strength but in maturity and wisdom. He now wished to shoulder the responsibility of his people's futures, as he knew Karumo did. Hopefully there was a way that they could work together to achieve their ambitions.

Fukai's hardened quadriceps pumped as he scaled the almost vertical terrain without the use of the supernatural walking technique. A lifetime of living in these mountains had him move like a goat on caffeine. He reached the top of the ridge and looked over at the clan compound. It was still there, nestled amongst the rock, the gem that had stayed hidden for hundreds of years before joining the great village of Iwagakure. It was still a way off but he could see figures in the courtyard. Maybe his friend was down there. He jogged closer, closing in on the scene. As he approached, he started making out figures- wait, were they fighting? Fukai sped up. He approached the compound wall that he could see over from his position. Yes, it was a fight. A whole gang of people targeting a sole figure who fended off each blow while being pushed back. The figure, it was his spiky black haired friend. This was confirmed when he saw the blast of fire from the man. The katon jutsu was met by an equally devastating wall of water which culled the flames.

Fukai's eyes widened as his body lurched into action. He ran at, jumped onto and then scaled the wall with the supernatural walking technique. He vaulted over the wall without taking care, his red scarf and hair being flung out to the side. Karumo was in front of him with his back turned while he faced the other men. He could now see that they were in fact his other clansmen, with Akatsuchi at their head. The man had been the most vocal in opposing Karumo's leadership, and it was no surprise that he would be the man to brandish his weapon.

It looked like the worst eventuality had come to pass. There were clues of the rising discontent with the clan, they were all too obvious to Fukai and they probably would have been for Karumo too. He had been too self involved to take precautionary action. He had lacked the decisiveness to do anything about it. He had been irresponsible by leaving his clan to swan off to another country for a self centered cause. And this was what had come of it.

He ran towards Karumo to stand by his side, he wouldn't let it be this way if he could help it. Surely there was something he could do. Then he saw it, the man at the back who stepped forwards. He dressed in light body armour over the top of the black and purple clan colours. His charcoal grey hair was tied in a bun with messy bits of fringe sticking out over his face. He walked slowly towards Karumo from about thirty metres away. The man held a long katana in his mouth and was forming speedy hand signs. Fukai knew what was coming, because it was his father's favourite lethal move. No. Fukai rushed forwards and drew his staff, knowing that Karumo would not be able to react to it within this range if he wasn't expecting it. Fukai's father finished his handseals and grabbed his sword, holding it out towards Karumo. He would be too late.

No-
He had to make it. As a great clap of thunder signaled the discharge of the massive lightning bolt from the long katana, Fukai roared, opening his pores and releasing chakra as hard as he could while lifting his weapon up to the incoming blast. He would barely make it in front of Karumo before the raiton hit them both. His staff pierced into the middle of the oncoming surge, plowing straight through the middle of it, Fukai's wind chakra pushing it out and neutralising it. The lightning lit the area with a flash so that when it ended, Karumo would see Fukai standing there, seemingly out of nowhere.

"What the hell is going on here?" Fukai barked with aggression. While he was facing his father, the other shinobi were to the side in a soft arc. Akatsuchi was the first one to react.
"You stupid shit, you shoulda kept your little-"
"That's enough, I'll deal with him" It was his father, the charcoal haired man by the name of Fukasai Fantomusodo. The white haired young man started getting pissed. He would lock eyes with the man and walk towards him, without regarding Karumo. Akatsuchi would growl under his breath.

The situation was already out of hand. From Fukai's point of view, there would be little he could do to salvage it. All he knew now is that he was angry. He would run at his father and engage him.

[1340]

Chakra 175:

Karumo stood before the trio, more so than the rest of his clanmates, he called them out for their actions but to what affect. A moment passed from his yelling as the man to Akatsuchi's left stepped forward, his sword in his mouth and began to quickly weave handsigns. Karumo watched and leaned back into his stance, reaching his right arm to above his shoulder to grab his sword and draw it to prepare for whatever attack was coming. He grabbed his sword and held it out towards Karumo as a large discharge of light began to glow from the sword. Karumo tightened his grip on his sword and leaned in tighter, his sword began to point forward as a large flash of lightning burst forth masked by the sound of thunder. The area around them began to tint in color, flashes of blue and white surrounded him as a bolt of lightning charged forward. Karumo sat back, the bolt was moving incredibly quickly, he should have tried to anticipate a lightning style attack, but now was too late.

From the corner of his eye a flash burst forth, and swatted down the bolt before it hit Karumo. He could almost feel the heat of the bolt on his chest and saw the staff fly down with gusto just in front of his nose. Karumo stepped back slightly, more of a jump back as the lightning crashed to the ground and exploded in a bright flash. After all was said and done, Karumo stood back up and let his sword rest down at his side for a moment. He was joined on the battlefield by a compatriot of his, Fukai, a person he hadn't seen since he arrived. His staff in tow, he was rather grateful that he could anticipate his attack, and was even more glad that he had at least one ally on his side. A huge burn mark carved into the ground where the bolt struck, he looked towards his friend as he barked out at them all. Karumo whispered behind him, "It's about time. I was beginning to think you wouldn't show." the others growled and started to yell back at Fukai.

Karumo took a few steps up towards him, placing his left hand on his shoulder he spoke to him from behind, "I am glad you showed up and saved my life, and it's obvious you're angry for obvious reasons. But look around, outside the three of them." Karumo would glance around at the others, very few of them were even at genin level by the villages standard. Their purple eyes would be ripe with fear as the younger ones who had never seen combat or a real fight in real time were now thrust into it. "If we have a full out fight here, I'm not sure it'll end well for anyone. Besides..." he spoke, his breathing was nearly audible at this point despite not having pushed himself very far. "A few of them already cast the dojutsu on me, I feel slower and weaker already, it can only get worse for the both of us if we continue this. And to cross that line and sin, to the degree of using our own jutsu on clan mates. I'm not sure it's a line I'd like to cross so lightly. Maybe diplomacy would be better fit here, rather than taking on some perverted sense of justice." he led on. "Or revenge...." he whispered as he looked towards the man on the left of Akatsuchi. He didn't imagine that he was slowed down too much, but it was noticeable at this point.

The three men stood there for a moment, Akatsuchi in the center and the head of the trouble. The man to his left he recognized as Fukai's father, Fukusai he believed it was? And the third man was relatively new to their groteque group of gossiping geezers he grandly thought of them. He believed his name was Ezra Fantomusodo, though as far as being a combat fighter or anything, he hadn't heard of any such thing. Not beyond using a sword, which over 90% of the clan was proficient in to a high degree mostly because of tradition.

---

If Fukai would let him have his chance at diplomacy, he would step forward to just in front of him and clear his throat as he sheathed his sword in some sign of good faith. It would ease a few of the kids standing against him, probably because they were coerced or forced into it, all things a sin in Karumo's eyes and worthy of the elders own deaths but now wasn't the time. He would call out to them, So, Akatsuchi, Fukusai, and Ezra. I know you don't want to fight here and risk anyone's lives. Or you shouldn't and this act as a concept is something you'll have to atone for in your own time. But, why don't we talk a little bit. Maybe we can reach a compromise here? One that doesn't lead to people getting hurt or even worse dead, he spoke calmly and loudly. He turned his head briefly to Fukai for a moment and nodded to re-affirm to him for that instance. What you might ask? Well, at the very least it was to re-assure Karumo that he had at least one ally, and to signify that he had hope that this wouldn't get any worse.

[932 words, 2988 words total]

[230/250 Chakra remaining]

The two parties stood at a standstill for awhile, apparently staring each other down. From Shindou’s position, he could see another individual rapidly approaching the area from his left. It would seem that he, too, like Shindou, had caught sense of the fighting and had come to investigate. For him to have come not with the others but by his own indicated heavily that he wasn’t part of the assaulters, which was what had led Shindou to that belief, though it was still entirely possible that he was scripted to arrive late, to catch the man off guard while his attention was focused on the people in front of him. It wouldn’t be the most unlikely tactic in the book, albeit unusual given the numbers already present.

As this occurred, Shindou was also faintly aware that one of them - someone from the clan, given the previous interactions between the two sides - walked forth. It was an old man, with graying hair, dressed in light armor, revealing some black and purple underneath - the clan’s colours, Shindou thought. He weaved through hand signs at a speed that Shindou was unable to follow due to his distance, and would still be unable to follow up close due to its speed. He then grabbed his sword, hanging limply at his waist, and pointed it at the lone man, before a massive bolt of lightning gathered at the tip, ready to fire.

The jutsu, or what Shindou believed to be a jutsu, shot out of the tip in a dangerous surge of electricity. It was at this moment that the newcomer had dashed forward to meet the bolt of lightning, having been momentarily still behind the man under attack. He dashed in front of it and slapped it down mid-air with impeccable precision, accuracy, and reflexes, deflecting the bolt harmlessly into the ground. Well, it was as harmless as it got, even if Mother Nature now bore another scar from the brunts of ninjutsu that had danced on her surface at the whims of their users for so many centuries.

“It’s about time. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show,” the lone man said.

This indicated that they both knew each other to some extent. Was this man also from the same clan? It would only make sense, given that he was in the area, but it was still, as with all options, entirely possible that he was just another ninja from Iwagakure who had been in the area, just like Shindou himself was. Something about the man showed otherwise though, and Shindou’s instincts screamed at him to decipher it. It was like a code was spread out in front of him, with the simple appearance of the man, and all Shindou needed was the cipher to get the answers. Shindou replayed things in his mind.

The first individual had arrived on the scene, before being attacked by the clan. The more Shindou witnessed, the more it did seem like a coup. Hence, the first was likely a Fantomusodo, and for them to organise a coup of this size likely meant that he was the leader of the Fantomusodo who had poor leadership or lacked charisma. He had also been unaware of the dealings going on within his clan, so he must have been out on an extended mission or on his travels, allowing backhanded deals to be made in public within the sanctities of his own home.

The second individual who arrived on the scene was a mystery. His knowledge of the clan compound had purely come from outdated scrolls that his father had kept. The man must have suspected something to his heritage, though kept it silent- No, that wasn’t his issue at the moment. Shindou’s mind raced as he tried to interpret something about the second man, though nothing came to mind. Irritating. Though… the man did seem familiar. Shindou was sure he had seen him somewhere, though without more details or a close-up view, he was unlikely to recall.

“I am glad you showed up and saved my life, and it’s obvious you’re angry for obvious reasons. But look around, outside the three of them, if we have a full out fight here, I’m not sure it’ll end well for anyone.”

At this point, Shindou scanned the group more closely. Most of them were children or teenagers, but their stances were sloppy and uniform. Shindou himself had never been to the local Academy, but he was aware how the Academy taijutsu stances were, and if this was all they had to show for it, it was far from even passable. Either they didn’t attend the Academy, or they were attending. The latter would be applicable to only those who looked under the age of twelve, since he was fairly sure the other teens his age would either have quit or improved by now. That would make it messier than it was supposed to be, since Iwa ninja were required by code and oath to avoid harming other Iwa ninja unless absolutely necessary.

Although, listening to one’s superiors did come before that, which implied it superceded it, though this situation made it much more complex.

The man then stated to his companion that several of the clansmen had already cast their dojutsu on him. The effects had been synonymous with what little he had read, slowing and weakening him. The following request for a chance at diplomacy, though, were what had taken him by surprise. To attempt diplomacy either spoke of a great love for the clan, or a similarly vast distaste for violence, and Shindou was unsure which the man leaned more towards. Perhaps more to the former, since he did restrain himself from instinctively lashing out at his attackers upon learning that it was his clan.

Shindou himself remained at his spot as he listened on for the newcomer’s decision. On the outside, it would seem as if he were remaining completely still, with the only shift in his standing position being that his right hand had reached behind his waist, dipping slightly into the rough leather pouch that held his ninja tools. On the inside, however, his heart rate had increased dramatically, even as he steadied his chakra and prepared for a fight, in case diplomacy failed.

Initially, he had been content in just watching events unfold. However, he knew he couldn’t - wouldn’t - stand by and let a massacre occur, much less watch it from the sidelines, and this was most definitely a massacre. However weak the rest of the clan may be, the supposed leader of the clan had already expressed a slight weakness as a result of their Dojutsu, and whatever their ranks, it was still dozens against two people. Given that the two in question were more likely than not to hold back, it was definitely going to be a massacre, if not on their end, then on the other’s.

Shindou’s palm tightened around a kunai. He wouldn’t be able to do much, but at least he would be able to distract the weaker members of the clan, allowing the two to focus on the few individuals who were pulling the strings and truly wanted them gone. Cut off the head of the snake, and the body dies. Besides, unlike them, he had no personal attachment to them, meaning he wouldn’t accidentally pull punches where he wasn’t supposed to.

Besides, he knew medical ninjutsu. He could probably patch up their wounds.

He continued watching, hoping that diplomacy would win out of violence and bloodshed. If the former was off the table, however, he would remove his two contacts - the only things that hid his purple eyes and possible link to the clan - before dashing down, obvious to anyone, to the clam compound. Right now, from the two individuals’ perspectives, he would be located at their southeast, and it was likely he too would be bounding over the wall, if it came to that, into a battle.

Or death, either was possible.

1361 + 1372 = 2733 words

---

Basically, Shindou is just watching. If diplomacy is chosen and is successful, he will continue watching. If you end up fighting again, he'll remove his contacts and run down to the compound to fight some Genin/Academy students/Ezra (if you're cruel).

OOC: Sorry this took so long. Been without my muse. Decided not to wait and tried to crank out something. Sorry if some information seems meta-ed, inaccurate, or poorly portrayed.

He had barely made it in time to save Karumo from his fathers' jutsu. And now he stood there beside him, in the maw of the attack. As the immediate danger subsided, rage built up inside him. He had shouted out at the Fantomusodo shinobi. Was this really happening? How dare these men think they could use lethal force to remove Karumo from the picture. It was aggrivating to the extreme, yet deep down, Fukai wasn't surprised. His friend had been appointed by the Tsuchikage as the head of the clan, the overall leader of these purple eyed bastards. He wasn't much more than a kid in their eyes, a kid that the Kage had decided to thrust upon them. The Fantomusodo had a long history of proud warriors, and to have to serve someone who they saw as the Kage's own subordinate, they were naturally displeased. Akatsuchi and his buddies had never been too discrete in their dissaproval, often openly slamming their leader in the meetings that Karumo was away for. The tension had built up and built up until now, it seemed that it had got to the point where they were prepared to go to these lengths to see change.Karumo persuing a task that the Kage had set him that took him out of the country had only magnified the situation, leaving these reactive people to broil in their own discontent. Whether this would have happened had he and Karumo stayed in the village, it was hard to say.

Either way, this had been an issue since long ago. But as the situation stood was the reality. And how these next few moments played out would most likely either kill them, or change their lives drastically. So there they were, in the thick of it. "It's about time. I was beginning to think you wouldn't show." 'What a stupid thing to say in the middle of this mess' Fukai would think to himself. But that was just like his friend. Did he really think that Fukai would come to save him in any problematic situation he got himself tangled in? The white haired young man had made it clear that he would be on Karumo's side, so of course they hadn't invited him to the party. He stared straight at his father, with wary aggression. How dare he try to attack his friend. He had never had much of a relationship with his old man but this act was a blatant disregard for his son. Fukai was about to charge in when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "I am glad you showed up and saved my life, and it's obvious you're angry for obvious reasons. But look around, outside the three of them." Fukai's attention was brought to the spiky haired man's words. Yes, there were kids here. The overbearing presence of the old male clansmen had pushed them into this situation. Fukai doubted very much that they had much opinion themselves about the situation and were here simply beacuse they had been forcefully coerced. This made Fukai even madder. How dare they bend these kids to their will and drag them into this dispute.

"A few of them already cast the dojutsu on me..."
This was bad. The concurrent affliction of multiple jutsu from the Meifu no Mei could turn someone as helpless as a baby, slowing and weakening their body until they could barely move. This was the gang up power of the purple eyes. Karumo didn't want to fight, instead he wanted to try to talk his way out of it. Fukai was unsure of this plan of action, looking back at his friend to show him. Although his friend was good with words, he distrusted the likes of Akatsuchi and Fukasai to be reasonable. No, they had their mind set on this course of action. He did agree that if there was a change to sway some of the other members then maybe they could try it. Fukai nodded slowly to agree while expressing hesitancy. The young man's grip on his staff tightened, a trickle of sweat running down his fingers from the tension.

The clan head started to speak, addressing the three high ranking males in the assault group. Fukai left the man to his speech, as he himself was never too great at talking and it probably wouldn't mean much coming from him anyway. Halfway through, his father started to move. He started walking forwards and brandishing his sword before letting rip two swings which sent arcs of white chakra flying towards them. Fukai whipped around to face them, shifting his feet and swinging his staff up to meet the projectiles. As the wooden stick made contact, he pulsed his own chakra into the jutsu which made it fade into nothingness as it passed. His left foot swung around and he spun to strike at the other projectile, despelling that one also. It was a sign of complete disrespect to try to interrupt him, showing he had little care for anything but his aggression against the spiky haired leader. Fukai was pissed. He hissed back to Karumo. "Keep talking, I can handle him". There was nothing to be done to reason with the man, he was set in his ways and the only language he spoke was that of brute strength.

Fukai growled as he broke into a run, charging Fukasai. His father's expression remained unphased but he accelerated to meet him. Their weapons met in an X. They stood there for a few seconds, pressing down on each other, trying to gain an edge through strength. They were pretty evenly matched on this front, which led them to stand face to face with each other. "You really are a fool aren't you." Fukasai said while narrowing his eyes. He pushed his son of and made a side swing from left to right. Fukai went to block it by twisting. His father's feint jutsu came out, suddenly the left to right swing disappeared and the sword was coming right to left. Fukai was somewhat anticipating this, angling the other end of his staff to cut his losses. A little chakra was spent reinforcing the stick, just to make sure it didn't break at this level of impact. The block held but the hefty force from the strike pushed his stance off balance. His feet shuffled back to try to regain balance but the next strike was already coming. It was a downwards cleave, cleanly crescenting from the previous movement. Fukai couldn't keep up, he had to push off his foot and skid back on his bum to get away. He got to his feet as quick as he could, noticing that his father wasn't following up just yet. He was strong, there was no doubt about it. Fukai excelled in bukijutsu and often gained many advantages through simple exchanges. But here he was, getting beaten at his own game.

[1182] /2522

Chakra 165:

As Karumo spoke, doing his best in hopes to de-escalate the situation, he would be cut off by Fukusai. Two arcs of white chakra launched towards them as Fukai stepped forward and knocked them down. Karumo spoke the rest of his bit with annoyance in his voice, the nerve to cut him off while trying to save their energy and time. But worse than that, Fukai was already on edge as he wanted to bring things down to a simple conversation, but for some reason, Karumo didn't think that he would get that wish today. Fukai had pure frustration and anger on his voice, it was like his words couldn't be angry enough to convey his true emotions, "Keep talking, I can handle him." Karumo inhaled sharply through his nose and sighed at the thought, it was inevitable as far as he was concerned now. Trying to speak before he got into anything Karumo let go of his shoulder and spoke quietly, just loud enough for Fukai to hear him, "Alright, but be careful, I don't think I'll get a chance to back you up... And see if you can't draw him away from the compound or push him out of it, we need to keep collateral down..." and with that, he would hope that Fukai would receive his message before charging off into battle.

---

Fukai would burst forward in his attack, aiming to take Fukasai head on in a direct contest of skills, but Karumo wouldn't move in the slightest. Instead he would stay where he stood and watch briefly, his posture and head held high while Fukai went on into his battle. He would wait for him to hopefully clear out and if not, he would give him a chance for everyone's attention to direct away from them. Then he would call out towards Akatsuchi, "So, I assume we'll be fighting at some point too then?" he had a bit of a smile on his face as he set his sword at his side and let the blade point towards him and set his feet. "That goes for the rest of you, anyone who doesn't want to be hurt or killed in a battle that they aren't prepared for, now is the time to leave..." he yelled out as his feet separated and his body lowered into a ready stance. Of the thirty or so genin and academy student level persons their numbers dwindled quickly, a few of the ones that were shaking and could hardly keep themselves contained stepped back and turned to run back to their homes and to safety. Hopefully into the care of their families and keeping their heads down, if it were up to Karumo and he won this battle, none of them would face any sort of punishment for their involvement. But first, he had a battle to win in order to guarantee his situation and his own advantage. As he waited he saw Ezra turn towards Akatsuchi slightly, he made out the words loosely, "Akatsuchi, send them away, we both know that this is your fight. And if we resort to violence you won't get any help from me..." a snarl and grit of his teeth as he turned back. Then Ezra called out, "The rest of you may leave! You have no obligation to fight in a battle that's not yours..." he yelled and more of the underlings stepped away and began to walk away. Avoiding the chaos of Fukai's fight if necessary, after a short few moments, all that would be left would be Akatsuchi, an Ezra who had jumped back and was now sitting on a rooftop intent on merely watching, and then four more underlings who had probably been brainwashed to the point that they would dare not leave.

It was perfect, at least Karumo was glad that Ezra was keeping to himself, their apparent lack of unity would be their downfall. However, five determined opponents would be enough for Karumo to keep his hands full. "This is the final warning to you all, anyone who stays to fight with him will be shown no mercy. If you leave now, I won't hold it against you in the future, your only chance for total amnesty..." he led on and sunk even further into his stance. A small bit of silence as Ezra watched from the rooftop and Akatuschi drew his own weapon forth, a katana of similar style. They both sat into similar stances but Akatsuchi's much more tighter in form and Karumo's focused on being versatile in stance. A bit of silence before they rushed forward, sliding when they reached each other, a quick slash from each of them as their blades flashed against the sunlight and the sound of clanking steel filled the air. They mirrored each other move for move as they danced around the open grounds, the dirt and such flying beneath their feet, their moves were like flowers dancing in the wind. The other four stayed out of it for now, no apparent openings for any amateur fighters to step between them. For a clan of samurai, this would be their art and their ultimate test of prowess, and between two people so high in stature and experience, it was no place for someone not of a genin's level to interfere with haste and caution.

---

The fight between the two of them would be one intertwined in finesse, clanking steel and small sparks here and there as they slowly prodded and tested at each others abilities. Each of them seemed to be matched in speed and strength, and each minor cut they could land on each other drew the same amount of blood. The only thing Karumo seemed to have over him was a slight advantage of reaction time and a bit more experience in other ninja arts outside of kenjutsu. But in a fight like this, there would be no time to weaves handsigns or to cast jutsu with much efficiency, each step back was a step forward for the other and one wasted action could cost them a blow from the others sword. Swords clanking and sliding feet, a flurry of cuts and slashes, a few stabs and jumping around the bladed ends of each others weapons.

From a distance, their fight would appear like Karumo was toying with his opponent, moving around theatrically, jumping around and spinning and dancing around with finesse and grace while Akatsuchi moved with his age. Small steps and efficient movements, he never reached more than he had to and his attacks were never wasted without misdirection and a chance to land a serious blow. He kept Karumo effectively on the defensive as the spun around in circles returning blow for blow, at one point the other students tried to interfere by throwing kunai and shuriken. Only to create a small distance between the two of them that Karumo then interrupted to get a quick minor cut on Akatsuchi, both times. The four of them had learned to stay out of their fight and to focus on themselves and make sure they weren't hurt or cut down by either of them or by another force altogether.

After a minute or two of trading each other minor cuts and serious blows they both stepped back. Each of them panting and out of breathe, minor cuts all around them and staring at each other. Normally serious and heavily practiced posture was now traded for Akatsuchi's sword sitting by his side and his shoulders slouched. Karumo was in equally bad shape, slumped over slightly and his arms hanging down in front of him. For an old man, he's not that bad... he thought to himself as he took the moment to catch his breathe. Then with a heavy inhale he stood up as straight as he could, small amounts of blood stained his clothes and ran down his wrist, each of them carrying an extreme series of small cuts, "I didn't think anyone in the village would be able to keep up with me so easily. Albeit when my speed and strength returns to me, I don't think you'll be waving my cuts off so easily... " he paused for a second. His voice gave heavily to the sounds of fatigue, but he continued on his facade of being injured and hurt. If there was anything, his numbness to the physical world would be his trump card, if he could play his injury and get Akatsuchi into a feeling of dominance, he might find a decent enough time to strike. Like a viper backed into a corner, he would need to wait for him to reach before he could bite the hand that feeds. "I'll give you one more chance, take your leave now and I won't have to kill you or anything... Come on now, it's not like me to give a person openly committing treason a second chance and all." his words carried his pride with him as he spoke. He tried to sound genuine when he spoke, but they both knew that only one of them would get to leave here. Karumo was only stalling again for another chance to catch his breathe and energize his movements.

Akatsuchi merely smiled at him in return, for as much as they hated each other neither could truly disown the others skill in combat. Their total lack of recognition and opposition to the others ideologies would be shadowed in this moment by their respect for each others prowess in combat. They both held the utmost respect for their style and they were both two of the more prominent members and users of it in the clan as it stood. Fukai and Fukasai may be fighting over long wounded hatreds and history of frustration and other issues, but Karumo and Akatsuchi are only enemies in the ever changing field of chance and situation. Under different circumstances, they might have even looked past their differences and could have sat down to have a drink, but where Akatsuchi failed to see progress and clung to the old ways of the clan. Karumo pushed the clan to prominence, and now, the differences between the two for either of them to ever be anything but enemies even in the privacy of keeping to themselves. Karumo sat back into his stance as Akatsuchi did the same, they were both ready, and it wouldn't be long before Karumo would be free of the bounds of the jutsu that had been cast on him. Neither of them had used the jutsu just yet, but one of them was going to have to up the ante soon, otherwise this slugfest of minor cuts was going to drive them both to total exhaustion and both of them into a point of defeat.

[1831 words, 4819 words total]

[230/250 Chakra remaining]

“So, Akatsuchi, Fukasai, and Ezra. I know you don’t want to fight here and risk anyone’s lives. Or you shouldn’t and this act as a concept is something you’ll have to atone for in your own time. But, why don’t we talk a bit. Maybe we can reach a compromise here? One that doesn’t lead to people getting hurt or even worse dead.”

Those had been the words that the one man had uttered in an attempt to diffuse the situation before a fight got out of hand. The words themselves had seemed diplomatic enough, even laced with the graciousness that one would associate with any leader willing to pardon his fellow clan members for following through with what they thought was the right cause. This graciousness was only amplified in that said right cause had directly thrown their clan leader into the line of danger itself - the line of danger that they had willingly drawn and pointed his way.

However, before his preaching could be completed, one of the attackers stepped forward. Shindou recognised him as the man who had previously attacked first, breaking the small silence that had erupted. It seemed that now, he would be the one to draw his blade again. Or, in this case, he drew both his blades, slashing them in an arc and sending a pair of white crescents blazing with chakra soaring directly at the supposed clan leader, who was facing what Shindou could only give an intelligent guess to as a coup d’etat.

The man’s ally, however, came to his rescue again, dashing forward to meet it head on, bravery flaring and showing on his face and body as he deflected the two arcs almost seamlessly and effortlessly, before turning his attention to the attacker. The two of them regarded each other with a few words, too insignificant for Shindou to file for further notice, bar the absolute bitterness that had come with those words. The two of them must have had some sort of a rough relationship with each other. It wasn’t unlikely that they both knew each other in the clan, and with knowing someone, it was possible either way that you would either like or detest the individual. However, given their facial similarities, it was possible that they weren’t just acquaintances in the clan who held different ideals, but rather blood-relatives whose propaganda vastly differed.

Could they have been siblings? No, the age gap seemed far too wide. The older man seemed to be decades older than him. Was he perhaps an uncle or a parent? That would make more sense, though a far-off cousin would also fit the description depending on the date of birth. Settling on the former options, however, those of a father or an uncle, he began to wonder what could have caused a wedge between parent and son so great that the two would turn on their flesh and blood? Perhaps the attacking of the man in question could have had something to do with this? Was the son’s relationship with said man so great that it was enough to triumph whatever familial relations he had with his father, to the extent of brandishing his sword proudly against the man who bore him, or was it the other way around? Did he see eye to eye on so few issues with his own parent that the two of them could be so easily divided onto diferent sides by a third party? Or, was the third party in question in fact not so much a third party, but rather someone else from their family, which would lend a reason as to why he was able to drive the two apart so greatly, even despite the lack of facial resemblance.

Questions. Too many questions. Too few answers to those questions. With each answer he got, or each answer he assumed, two more questions rose to keep him occupied. Shindou didn’t like it. He didn’t like being thrust into a situation blind. While he wasn’t exactly thrust into this one, he was still on the verge of tipping into it; in other circumstances, he would likely not have fought, but it seemed here as if the chance to aid the two would be one he would have to seize, even if his help would be insignificant at most, against a group of that number.

“So, I assume we’ll be fighting at some point too, then?” the man asked. He got no reply. “That goes for the rest of you,” he continued, blade pointed toward his one opponent, likely the instigator of this entire event. “Anyone who doesn’t want to be hurt or killed in a battle that they aren’t prepared for, now is the time to leave…”

As he uttered those words, his body settled into a battle stance, prepared and primed for a serious fight, one that was either drawn out and prolonged, or quick and hopefully painless. His stance seemed to lend weight to his words, and some of his would-be attackers wavered. Of the thirty or so people who were ready to spill their own blood just to see his splashed across the floors of the clan compound, many seemed to understand that their only strength - those gifted eyes of theirs - had already been in play, leaving them with little more to contribute to the entire fight, save being live dummies for someone of that caliber to cut down in his free time even as he danced with the more capable opponents.

Fortunately, it seemed that their higher-ups believed this as well. “Akatsuchi, send them away,” the third of the trio likely in charge of this operation finally spoke up. “We both know that this is your fight. And, if we resort to violence, you won’t get any help from me.”

‘If we resort to violence?’ Shindou thought, trying to wrap his mind around that statement, if only that statement. He almost scoffed at the hypocrisy of the man’s words. They had dared attack the lone man, only to moments later declare that violence was not a part of their modus operandi? The very thought was only laughable, but Shindou was not one for laughs. He was not one for any outward display of emotion, something that had irked his sister to no end on countless occasions. In fact, he was barely one for anything more than stoic deduction, and that was exactly what he was doing quickly and efficiently, to the best of his ability, at this very moment.

Out of all the initial enemies who had been prepared to throw their lives away at the whim of their superiors, only a good seven remained on the battlefield, with the rest having retreated into the safer and less exposed parts of the clan compound, where they were likely to remain in wait, filled with anxiety, as the fate of their clan was fought for. One of the eight seemed to be the purple-haired boy’s father. The boy himself seemed to grow increasingly familiar to Shindou as time passed by, though in the heat of the battle, regardless of how much Shindou attempted to observe him, he and his father’s skirting about made it impossible to discern those stark facial features that looked all too familiar, yet also all too foreign.

That left six enemies, and one of them had opted not to fight. This had been the man who had instructed the other to fight his own battle, not drawing others into a fight despite the entire coup d’etat (if it even was one, since Shindou had yet to fully confirm that small, minor detail) having been hinged on and started with violence. Rather, he now remained still atop a nearby rooftop, seemingly keen on simply observing the two battles that were taking place, without lending aid to either one. With that, Shindou paid him less mind, and instead focused on the final five.

The remaining five were shockingly taken on by the person who he had by now romanticised in his head as the victim of this entire operation, so he could better visualise the entire scenario in his mind. One of the five had been the man who had been instructed to deal with this individual, and he seemed all too happy to do so, while the remaining four seemed to be far out of their league, only chipping in at certain points to distract the victim from fighting, with the occasional kunai or shuriken soaring through the air and missing their target by a relatively wide margin. They didn’t seem to do much, if anything, with the only true back and forth of this fight coming from both the victim and the opponent he was currently locked in bladed combat with, both of whom seemed equally skilled with the swords that they wielded, with the victim himself only being pushed back due to the adverse effects of the Fantomusodo clan’s eyes weighing down on his body.

Current situation? It was a battle. It wasn’t big, but it definitely wasn’t small, either. It could be isolated into two distinct parts. The first was definitely that of the one-on-one duel between the father and son, likely not to just settle this small invasion of the clan’s peace, but also likely some long-buried family feud that was the oil to this coup’s fire, brought to the present with a simple spark this revolution provided. That small simple spark must have been all that was needed to set things ablaze, and it seemed this small act of betrayal had been more than enough to send both parent and child into a deathmatch, both blades locked with each other with the intent to kill radiating off of the participants in waves.

The second was that of the man who had to hold his own against five others, though in practicality it was only one man he was facing. The four others, it seemed, he was only keen on dodging, despite his previous warnings of injuring them beyond recognition if they failed to step down when they were given the chance. Of course, the four he was fighting seemed to be Genin, and while he didn’t seem to actively want to hurt them, opponent aside, the Genin themselves also seemed to be smart enough that they didn’t want to get in close with him, hence opting to just pelt him with projectiles from a safe distance while his attention was occupied by their much more experienced counterpart.

“I didn’t think anyone in the village would be able to keep up with me so easily. Albeit, when my speed and strength return to me, I don’t think you’ll be waving my cuts off so easily. I’ll give you one more chance, take your leave now and I won’t have to kill you or anything… Come on now, it’s not like me to give a person openly committing treason a second chance after all.”

Neither side budged, but Shindou’s eyes widened a fraction as he drank in this new information. His mind focused on the word ‘treason’ in particular, and especially the faces of the people on the field. The man who had uttered these words didn’t seem to falter in his stance or words, while his opponents didn’t seem so surprised at his accusation that this was indeed an act of treason. So this was a coup d’etat, and the lack of a response, whether proper or not, indicated that the man himself wasn’t simply saying this to act tough or play the card of the hero; he was genuinely the current clan head, or at least someone who held as much political power in the clan as the head was supposed to.

“This is the final warning to you all,” the man Shindou assumed was the clan head said. “Anyone who stays to fight with him will be shown no mercy. If you leave now, I won’t hold it against you in the future, your only chance for total amnesty…”

Shindou watched with apathy once more as they, like anyone could have predicted, failed to retreat. He suspected that the words were directed at the Genin in particular, instead of the man he was dealing with. The perpetrator of this betrayal matched the clan head in strength, even if it was only temporarily, until the clan head regained his strength once the effects of the clan’s eyes wore off, but the Genin themselves couldn’t hope to take this man on even if it was on a four-on-one match and he was lacking an arm and a leg. Regardless, their failure to retreat when their entire numbers dwindled from a hefty thirty to a measly five indicated that they were not here because they were confident in their abilities to take him down. Rather they were likely here because of fear of what would happen if they refused, a total lack of trust in the clan head’s words of amnesty, or rather their overzealousness in the beliefs that this coup was clearly for the betterment of the clan, and that the clan head had to go to make way for a brighter future for their home.

Regardless of the reason, it didn’t change the notion that none of them budged from the scene, though they were visibly shaking more with diffidence. It didn’t change they were now here, and it didn’t change how they had to be dealt with.

Shindou kept his eye on the other man, the one on the rooftop. Currently, there were two battles raging on, and the man himself was just calmly watching the entire scenes unfold in front of him. What was he waiting for? Was he waiting for one of the two to display a clear winner, so he could aid the other? But then, why not just tip the balance of either fight, then sweep up the remains? Or did he really believe that he had no place in this violence? That the father and son had to settle their differences alone, while the current clan head had to put his ideology on the line? Then what was his place in all of this? Would he stand to fight once either of his friends, if even that, were beaten? Or would he simply concede defeat if things weren’t to his liking? Or, perhaps this was his idea of standing down for the amnesty of the clan head, while not so much retreating for the wrath of his accomplices? Or rather, did he have some ulterior motive of his own? Did he act as the third party in this situation, where he would let both parties wear themselves out, before eliminating them all in one fell swoop and laying down his true plans for the clan?

That didn’t seem to be the case, however, plausible of an option it seemed to Shindou. The clan head was already exhausted, while he himself seemed to carry himself with enough energy to take the clan head on at an equal level to the opponent the latter was currently facing. Stabbing his supposed ally in the back was now his best bet, before taking on the weakened and surprised clan head. Of course, this would leave him open to the father and son duo, who in the entire turn of events might actually team up against him. Given their bitterness though, there was always the possibility that they would be too locked in combat to understand the sudden shift in the tide, and all this was only on the supposed assumption that the man on the sidelines did indeed have a plan up his sleeve that didn’t involve any of the ones who were currently fighting.

There was always the option of him joining in and assisting the rightful clan head in this battle, drawing the four Genin’s attention away by opening up a third front to this small skirmish in the clan’s open compounds. However, by joining this battle that was already raging on, he would reveal himself to the man on the rooftops and risk him jumping in. As good of a ninja as Shindou believed himself to be, without overstepping into the territories of overconfidence and complacency, he knew he was simply a Genin, and unable to match the two who were outnumbered, much less take on the man himself.

Then again, if he didn’t jump in, it would only be a matter of time before the clan head was worn down enough by his opponent to fall victim to a kunai, or a shuriken, or maybe even the stray airborne senbon. One of these would be sufficient to distract him from his opponent, and in such a tense duel, a simple distraction like that would prove to be fatal, pushing either side into the confines of life or death at the hands of their enemy.

A clan head he didn’t know, or his life?

The choice was already made for him before both options registered fully in his head, as his hand curled around the soft leather surrounding the kunai in his pocket, and he rushed forward to aid the duo. While there were few things he placed above his life, believing that he had to be alive to keep whatever ideals and people he cherished safe, he was aware that after everything he had seen, not acting would kill his sister if she ever found out, and he knew she would find out. She always did; it was only a matter of time.

As such, he dove into the fray, praying only for Sena to forgive him if he never dove out.

---

As he approached the group of four Genin, who seemed to have still not taken notice of him, he flung his kunai, gripped in his right, dominant hand, at one’s left thigh. The boy gave a scream of pain as the kunai sunk itself into his leg, and he crumpled into a heap, yanking the blade out of his leg and throwing it aside, eyes wide with fear at the sight of blood already beginning to seep out at an alarming rate. The other three, alerted to Shindou’s arrival, held onto their kunai, turning their attention from the clan head to him before dashing at him at full speed as well.

Even as Shindou continued his sprint towards the group, his eyes took in their every move. They were moving in a rough arrowhead formation, with the arrowhead pointing straight at him as the three charged straight into battle, likely without thinking about a battle plan prior, and only settling for this formation out of instinct. The lack of a consistent distance between any of the three Genin as they stumbled in and out of a proper formation indicated that they lacked proper experience as a ninja, especially one found in the midst of battle.

That meant they hadn’t been Genin for long. Their equipment was also new, undented, undulled, full of shine, unscratched… They hadn’t been Genin for long at all. Their headbands shone in the bright light, newly acquired from the Academy, meaning they were likely one of the more recent classes to have graduated. So, they were just fresh-from-the-Academy Genin who were listening to the words of their higher ups as they were either too scared to go against such words in the heat of battle, or were filled with dreams of grandeur that far outstripped their capabilities. Even now they believed their superior numbers to be enough to take Shindou on, who arguably despite having more experience than they were, was also just a Genin himself.

The closest one jumped at him, slashing him with a kunai. Shindou only brought his left hand up to block, letting the kunai glance across his arm and cutting deep into his flesh, past his clothes, to draw first blood, slowly flowing out of the half-inch cut that his left arm now sported. His right hand wrapped tightly around said boy’s wrist, taking away the flash of triumph from his face, and a small twist was all that Shindou needed to cause him to yelp out in pain. There was no force needed, only technique to hit the right parts of the wrist and force his grip to slacken, allowing the kunai to drop straight into Shindou’s waiting left hand.

First clenched tightly around the handle of the kunai he had just scavenged, he threw a punch with his left hand into the boy’s gut, ignoring the searing pain that flared up in his arm. The boy was sent hurtling back, cradling his stomach, though Shindou had no time to rest as the other two were now onto him.

Equipped with a kunai, though, he found himself in a far better position to defend himself, especially since his assailants (or, was he instead the assailant, since he had been the one to initiate this small bout of fighting with them, rather than supposedly fighting in defense) each had a kunai of their own. He blocked the first slash from the boy on his right, using the kunai held in his left hand and purposely leaving his left flank open to an assault by the boy on his left. The boy jumped straight in, delivering a horizontal slash to the left side of his chest which caused him to grind his teeth in pain.

Now with the boy on the left in close range, though, he lifted his left leg and delivered a kick to the boy’s stomach, feeling the pain in his chest flare up at the act, before sending a punch with his right hand at the head of the boy on his right. The boy opted to defend with a kunai, and his gloved hand gripped around the blade, feeling the sharp edge pierce into the underside of his palm. HIs left hand, still holding tightly onto the kunai he had swiped, sent a solid punch to the boy’s nose. A solid crack was heard and blood began to flow as he cradled his face gently, and Shindou grappled the boy and slung him over his right shoulder, before tossing him onto the boy on his left, who was now beginning to get up.

Shindou was still given no time to rest, however, as he noticed the first of the three boys that he had taken down already getting up and running to him, while the Genin he had injured with his original kunai was struggling to get past the pain. Breaking out into a run, he charged forward at his oncoming attacker, before preparing an Angel’s Screen Jutsu. A metre in front of him, water vapour coalesced into a transparent screen, the liquid barely holding its form as a rectangle and the refraction of light through it still plain, if the blurred image of his attacker was anything to go by. Rushing past it, he felt his wounds quickly healing up, as minor as they were; the cut on his arm, the one on his chest, and the slices on his hand all went away.

Apparently, his attacker had also noticed this, and was shocked for a moment when he saw the rate at which Shindou had healed. Pausing in his step for a moment was all the opening that Shindou needed as he dashed to one side, grabbing the boy’s arm. His opponent’s eyes widened as he then broke into a half spin, before releasing the boy’s arm and sending him crashing into his fellow clan member. The two of them wobbled slightly from the impact, before one of them, the one whose thigh had not been injured by Shindou, ironically collapsed onto the ground, the small battle he had already experienced too much for his greenhorn body to keep up with.

The injured boy, however, demonstrating more endurance than his fellow friends, was able to keep fighting, and after shaking off the initial daze that came with the sudden impact from his friend, charged at Shindou, who was no more than three meters from him. He threw a punch with his right hook, though as this forced him to balance himself with his injured left leg, the force and speed of it was sorely hampered, allowing Shindou to duck underneath it and position himself directly behind his target. His right hand wrapped around the boy’s right arm, yanking it back as his left hand, still holding onto the kunai, snaked across his neck.

The boy froze in shock when the cold blade pressed against his delicate skin, resting against his Adam’s apple, though he was given no time to feel actual fear or surrender as Shindou’s left knee smashed into the back of his own, sending him collapsing onto said left knee. By now, Shindou had dropped the kunai for fear of doing permanent damage that not even he was able to heal, mediocre as he was with his skills in the medical ninjutsu department. He turned to his right to face Shindou, his torso turning slightly in the process, to regard his enemy with eyes wide with shock at the turn of events, but just as said eyes met Shindou’s, they also caught sight of Shindou’s right fist, drawn back and apparently no longer trapping his right arm in place.

No response was needed as the fist connected with his cheek, the force of it sending him balancing precariously on his left knee as his right leg left the ground. With the three out of the way, Shindou stood and turned his head to the fight between father and son, as well as the clan head and the usurper, while keeping a watchful eye on the mysterious man on the roof.

He had done all he could. The rest were beyond his league.

4389 + 2733 = 7122 words

Spoiler:

Fukasai stood there with his neutral posture, no emotion on his face. He looked at his son before stepping forwards towards him. Then his attention left Fukai as he glanced toward Karumo. He was distracted by the exchange that was going on. "That goes for the rest of you, anyone who doesn't want to be hurt or killed in a battle that they aren't prepared for, now is the time to leave..." Fukai could now hear his friend talking again, trying to convince the youngsters to leave. He knew that hurting those kids was the last thing that Karumo wanted, but he was in a tough situation. It looked like he had made up his mind to fight back if necessary. "The rest of you may leave! You have no obligation to fight in a battle that's not yours." Yes, the older male was standing up for the genin. It looked like they had been coerced into this situation and this was probably too much for Ezra. Even if he may be against Karumo, it looked like he was not prepared to go to such unethical lengths as manipulating kids. This was a good thing, it showed that it wasn't the whole clan that was bent on eradicating Karumo, only a few individuals at the top that wanted to throw their weight around. That made it all the more important that Fukai could deal with his father.

While watching this development, Fukasai became noticeably pissed off. Their plan was starting to unravel before it had accomplished it's means. He stopped walking towards Fukai and changed his trajectory to start towards the others. Fukai knew that he couldn't let him influence the Fight anymore. Any advantage that Karumo was trying to scrounge from his words could not be interrupted. On Fukasai's third step, he had to whip around to defend against his son's attack. Their weapons clashed, tempered steel on hard oak. Once again, neither was willing to make the first move, as they both understood that whoever did would be vulnerable to counterplay. They pressed against each other, face to face once more. Then with one explosive push, Fukasai made distance. He spoke. "Stop this idiocy at once" Fukai was already starting to breath heavily. The stress of the situation had triggered his fight or flight a while ago, and the initial adrenaline boost was already starting to wear out. "Don't you realise the situation you're in? We are going to crush him completely." Was the man really concerned for him? he doubted it. It probably just inconvenienced him to have Fukai as an obstacle. No.. it was more than that. Looking into those purple eyes, the black X that ran through the iris showed uncertainty. Was he scared? "Don't you see, if I takedown this kid, the leadership of the clan will revert to our bloodline. You would be the sole heir." He would be the leader of the Fantomusodo clan... Like that meant anything to him, it seemed more of a burden than anything else.

"You think I give a shit about that? frick you!" Fukai almost screamed at his elder. This man, his absent father, was trying to kill the guy that he thought of like a brother. Now he was trying to tempt him to discard all that he had gained over the last year for some greed of power. Looking at Fukasai, he could almost see his temple throb with anger. "Don't you dare speak to me like that you little shit!" His words filled with venom, he dashed at Fukai. The silver haired young man could see that there was no more restraint in his movements. His father was looking to kill him. The longsword flashed in the sunlight as it's point glided towards Fukai's heart. He needed more time, or he was going to look like a kebab in a split second. His body reacted to the visual stimulus automatically. His left foot skidded back and his body jutted to the side as he levered the sword away from him with the staff. Chakra surged through Fukai's system as his body recalled the thousands of hours of conditioning and practice that he had spent to temper himself into a master of the weapon arts. But his father was from the same family, and had been subjected to a similar upbringing. His sword darted back and forth as his feet shifted forwards, trying to prick him with the massive blade. He wielded the longsword like a shortsword, with enough strength in his wrists and arms coupled with chakra enhanced movements to fling the weapon this way and that like a freeform painter or a conductor in front of his orchestra.

With each advancing movement, Fukai had to retreat. But he was managing to keep up now, he was sinking into his battle daze with each exchange. Fukasai's rage was growing, even unclenching his jaw to start yelling. "This is all to revert the mistakes of our ancestors! The Fantomusodo should have never joined Iwagakure. Now we have to obey that piece of dirt? We have to correct the mistakes of our past fathers, don't you understand?!" Fukasai was starting to lose it, and the younger man was picking up tempo, taking advantage of his emotional state. He had stopped retreating now, able to stand his ground as their weapons flashed inbetween. Neither was able to land a hit.
"I do understand, and you are right. I do have to correct the mistake of my father." Fukai was still visibly angry but had managed to leash his emotions for the time being. He was starting to push him back, ever so slightly. And then he saw it, the opening he was hoping for.

Fukasai's footing faltered, his back foot being three inches too far inward to balance his weight properly. He was prepared to take this chance, he had to if he wanted to win this fight. He made a purposeful shallow swing to position the butt off his staff towards his target. This threw Fukasai off even more, his whole weight balanced on the ball of one foot. Then Fukai thrusted with the butt of the staff. A large solid lance of chakra formed around the butt as it was thrusted, making a cone projectile that was smashed into the man's upper left shoulder. He had been aiming for the heart, but a slight shift from his target had misplaced the attack. As the blow landed, Fukai felt a wave of hot stinging pain surge through his body, coming from his waist and leg. He was astonished as to what had just happened. As Fukasai stumbled backward, Fukai looked down to see three deep cuts, one one each side between the ribs, the other through his quadriceps. Fukai dropped to the ground out of shock, letting out a small unintentional cry. Looking up at his father, it became apparent as to what had just happened.

Fukasai no longer had the aggressive anger in his face, instead it had been replaced with a stony expression. He hadn't dropped his weapon, holding it in his right hand, but his left arm hung limp with the should smashed up. He had faked it. Purposely opening himself up to take a hit so that he could land his own. Fukai hadn't even seen the attack, and yet it had cut through him. The blood was already starting to coat him in a thin sheen. The ruse was so subtle, the opening was so small that only someone as practiced as himself could have recognised it and taken advantage of it in that moment. There he knelt, five or so metres from his father, unaware of the commotion that Shindou was causing behind him. Fukai was a dire situation.

[1321] /3843

Chakra 115:

Karumo and Akatsuchi stood on at each other, their powers were so similar and played off of each other nearly perfectly. During the commotion of their struggle he noticed that the genin were picked up by a stranger, one he couldn't make out. A shriek of terror caused both Karumo and Akatsuchi to glance over briefly at the commotion as the used exposition to catch their breath. From what Karumo saw, he was only a bit quicker and stronger than them, leaving lethal blows for what he could and even taking a cut to his hand in the quick instant that he was allowed to watch. It was at the same time, Karumo glanced over to Fukai and his fight, he seemed to be losing ground quickly in his fight as well. He gritted his teeth as Akatsuchi charged back at him, he was lucky to catch it out of the corner of his eye and duck beneath the swing of his sword. He was frustrated, losing control of the situation at hand, not able to help his friend even though it was his responsibility. Hell. He couldn't even handle himself at the moment, a near perfect replica as far as his skills with a sword go; stood in front of him and matched him blow for blow. He knew he had to take the fight differently, something had to change and quickly in order for him to turn things around, maybe to just even get out of this one alive. Jumping back in the air and using his sword to deflect Akatsuchi's, he weaved together the sign for two shadow clones, each one poofing to life underneath him. [OOC: Each clone has 70 chakra after division]

The two clones dashed towards Akatsuchi as Karumo came back to the ground and re gripped his sword. He knew that he could leave his clones to battle and to go and help Fukai, or he could triple team against his enemy, the main foe he needed to remove from battle as soon as possible. The three of them began to attack Akatsuchi in tandem, each of them attacking in the blind-spots of the others and leaving him no time to respond for any second. The battle would be short, the swords cutting into him bit by bit, it would be no time at all before he began to lose his footing, the panic of responding to three blades attacking him all at once while matching his speed. Akatsuchi would be panicking at this point, he may have known some ninjutsu and was as good a swordsmen as anyone, but when faced with the skills of a real ninja, a distinct advantage would play out. Akatsuchi's desperation would leak out, tossing his sword in the air for a second as he began to weave together some signs. It spun in the air as everything seemed to close out in slow motion, Karumo and his clones took strict advantage of the lapse, the fight having drawn on far longer than it needed to.

Each of the three Karumo's would crouch in and burst in speed towards him, their swords held at their side and pointed towards Akatsuchi, he was trying to weave together some signs for another ninjutsu attack. His specialty being in Earth and Water styles, there was no time for him though, the burst of speed at such a short distance. The three blades pierced him, not even time to weave together more than three hand signs, the failure of someone without extensive ninja training and experience. Blood dripped down from the swords as they were paused in time, he coughed and a small amount of blood came with him, it was like a sigh of relief for Karumo. A long winded battle had come to conclusion, but at what cost? A man who was prominent among the clan was now about to lay to rest at his feet, and the damage done among the clan and their unity could wreck untold havoc upon them. A smile fashioned Akatsuchi's face as he looked down to take measure of the swords, Karumo himself had stabbed him from behind, the sword piercing awfully close and even knicking his spin, it was a miracle he hadn't collapsed from that alone. The clones had approached from in front of him, one sword pierced at his ribs but slipping through into his left lung. The last sword stuck into his right kidney, an overly damaging and painful but less lethal hit. He smirked for a second, his impending falter starting to set in, "Well, I didn't think you'd have it in you after all..." he said as blood spilled over.

Karumo released his clones, poofing away into a cloud of smoke and then the two of them stood there, Karumo began to slide the sword from his back and set it in his sheathe. Holding him up with his shoulder now for a brief moment as he spoke back, "You pushed things too far, like you said. It was me or you..." he then knelt down and laid Akatsuchi on his back to let him slip away in to his sleep. "If there's anything you'd like to add, your final words and such, I imagine now is the time." he spoke blatantly towards him, his face and voice devoid of emotion. On the inside, he was incredibly sad, death was never an easy thing to swallow and especially not of a clan member. Akatsuchi's eyes faded up to the sky, cloudy now like it would rain soon, Ezra had jumped down and stood a few feet behind Karumo as he listened in. Karumo kept his eyes on Akatsuchi, he had a strong feeling Ezra wouldn't interfere in this moment, and if he were going to, he would have done so before the lethal blows came about. A cough came to break the silence, "Well..." his voice was becoming a bit erratic, his breathe broke through with each pause as his punctured lung struggled for air, "I'll leave my last words as this... If you can't accept the way that the clan is as a whole. And learn to serve the people rather than your own ideologies... then I am only a footnote in a long line of battles you'll come to face down your journey from now and until the end..." he coughed again. "I thank you though... you gave me a worthy death, and my death will further advance the ideology among the young. It's not grudge against you personally... but this is how the clan is and the way we chose to be after leaving the village gates. Your legacy will live on what you do from here after, I gave you no choice in fighting against your clansmen but what they will all remember is how you acted afterwards..." his head fell back slightly and he closed his eyes, doing his best to go in peace.

Karumo knew though, he'd been around enough death to know that it wouldn't be long before he would be consumed in a fit of rage, coughing up blood until his eyes rolled back and his body went limp. He almost wanted to put him out early, as a gesture for his own kindness, but that kind of cruelty, pushing too far. Ezra stepped closer up, worry over his eyes as he took in the scene, Karumo's head hung in shame with tears running down his eyes. He dared not look away from his now dying comrade, a former mentor and the one who took him in after the death of his own family. Helped him set up his own life and even gave him the outlet of the village, and now things had been so turned around. Karumo wiped away his tears with his sleeve, a small bit of blood rubbed off to his cheek as he turned towards Ezra. "I'll let you tend to him, it won't be long but it will be ugly." he spoke as Akatsuchi began to cough a bit more heavily. "I"m going, I have a lot to think about and once I'm done, I'll send for you." he wouldn't stick around to talk to the newcomer to the battle. He had nothing to add at the present time, and if he needed to speak, then there would be a better time. As for Fukai, he would leave him to deal with his father as he saw fit, his own emotions and trouble would have been brewing and to a perhaps greater degree than Karumo.

Once Ezra agreed, he knelt down towards Akatsuchi and pressed his hand calmly to his shoulder, as a gesture that he wouldn't be dying alone. With a heavy sigh, Karumo shot off, moving as quickly as he could away from the compund. He didn't know where he was going yet, perhaps in the wilderness for some time to think and clear his head, and then to the village to get himself cleaned up and his injuries checked out. Being numb, that task was something he probably should take care of immediately, but he had a decision to make and a lot to think about. For now, he needed to just keep moving, punish himself with physical distress for letting the clan get so far out of his control. The struggle of a clan leader with an over active conscious, and one who was just beginning to learn about the real struggle of how to run a clan and the cost at which the actions of being in charge could really run.

[1656 words, 6475 words total]
[Exit Thread]

[OOC: Thread is over so I'm ignoring chakra for now, but if you want me to add it, I will]

Training:

Nothing happened.

That was the summary of everything that Shindou witnessed.

There was killing. There was bloodshed. There was spite. But there was no killing.

Even after he himself had decided to spare the lives of the four Genin he had taken down, there was no killing. He had expected at the higher levels that some form of bloodshed would be inevitable, but the only life taken wasn’t even one done in the heat of the moment.

Shindou stood his ground, with the three Genin who had attacked him collapsed behind him, while the one Genin that he had taken out was merely on the ground in pain somewhere off to the site. He vaguely had his attention on them, while he kept most of his focus locked on the fight that was occurring in front of them, specifically the two that were transpiring even as he took care of the Genin, who were arguably in better hands being beaten up by him than either one of the two, for witnessing the level of their skill and proficiency in the ninja arts of their choice, the Genin would have likely been part of a manslaughter that they had no control over, or knowledge of.

While the supposed clan head was faring well, even managing to slip in the use of two Shadow Clones to help him gain the unfair advantage that all ninja were infamous for exploiting, the other battle didn’t seem to be going on too well.

The clan head had managed to outmaneuver and arguably overpower his opponent, even taking care of the one wildcard that Shindou had located prior and throughout the previous fight. The other fight, between father and son, however, didn’t seem to be progressing as well as the other two battles that had transpired on the scene between Shindou and his targets, as well as the clan head and the new thinker. In fact, it seemed as if holding true to the notion that experience came with age, the son was failing to overpower his father, whose mastery with the blade exceeded his own, though by how much Shindou had not been paying enough attention to be able to discern on a satisfactory level.

Nevertheless, he had caught glimpses of their battle, and it was one that was beyond his capabilities. They may have only been moving just slightly quicker than he was accustomed to, but every edge in battle counted towards the final victory, and it was in most cases miniscule advantages compounded throughout the course of a battle, as well as throughout the course of a ninja’s career, that ultimately contributed to whether they won or lost their next battle.

On one hand, Shindou could jump in and fight, though he would serve as little more than a temporary distraction that would be easily dispatched of by the father who held no qualms about striking his own flesh and blood. A man who was able to force onto his knees someone that even Shindou had discerned as his better was a suicidal opponent for the young Genzou to pick a fight against, and confident as he was in his abilities, once again this was pushing the boundaries of not only what he was capable of, but what those bearing the rank of Genin were capable of. They were simply too weak to contest anyone who was greater in strength and experience, and it further stoked the belief that he was far too weak to change anything should the need arise.

Sena flashing through his mind steeled his nerves.

He couldn’t win for the man, nor could any contributions he make be mathematically sufficient to overpower his potential opponent. The only jutsu left in his arsenal that he believed would make a difference was the Mystical Palm technique that all medics were to learn, and even then he would not be able to apply it during the heat of a battle itself, especially not one which he couldn’t even keep up with.

As such, Shindou decided instead to remain back, retreating from the battlefield sufficiently that he would be able to make a getaway if things turned ugly, but still remaining in the vicinity in case the son was able to gain the upper hand.

If that should be the case, Shindou would return and patch up his wounds, if necessary and welcome. Otherwise, Shindou would simply leave the area. Compelled by even the clan head’s departure from the area, he had no business being there, despite having intervened in clan affairs.

766 + 7122 = 7888 words

Sharp breaths heaved at Fukai's chest as he was brought back into the present moment. His father stood in front of him, but it looked like he had backed up for the moment. His thigh burned as his blood flowed freely down his knee and onto the dirt below. In the previous exchange, Fukai's leg had been cut and he had dropped down to a kneel. Fukasai was looking around however, his attention not currently on his son in front of him. The young man realised that he was surveying the rest of the battle that was taking place around him, and by the expression on his face, he wasn't pleased. Fukai took the chance to look around himself, and he found that the coup was on it's last legs. Karumo was pushing back Akatsuchi and a familiar figure was taking down the reinforcements. At the back of his mind, Fukai realised that this was the guy that he had met out in the plains that day. His name was Shindou, if he remembered correct. He couldn't dwell on this new development for long as he had to keep an eye on his old man.

Fukasai had been holding his opposite hand up to his injured shoulder, the blue light of medical ninjutsu welding together his tissue. The older man's focus was now totally on Karumo, as he started towards him. He couldn't let this happen, his friend was right in the middle of an intense exchange and the introduction of a second attacker would be overwhelming. His job wasn't over just yet, he needed to push for just a little more. But how could he? He was in a bad shape and wouldn't be able to use his injured leg in any meaningful way. He had to try. His back was against the wall, just like it had been so many times. So why did this time feel so different? Well the answer would have been obvious to anyone on the outside. It was because his usually rock solid mentality had been shaken down by having to fight so close to home. Literally.

The first step was to engage him. Fukai mustered his will into is one good leg and stabbed his staff at the ground. With a roar he pushed off of his leg and staff and jumped at Fukasai. He filled his blood red scarf with chakra to make it rise up and unravel around him. The older man's eyes flicked to the side, his hamstrings springing his body around into a battle ready position. The lengths of the scarf spun around him, splitting off into different strands and snaking around independently in the second that it took him to reach his father. A flurry of metal and fabric turned Fukai into an airborne spinning top. Fukasai wield his longsword with ease, stepping forwards then backwards then forwards again as his sword clashed against the scarf and parried each blow.

A couple of strands of the scarf sped down to the ground before Fukai landed, softening his landing and coiling around in front of him. Fukasai leapt back to avoid a swipe. Fukai didn't want to extend his scarf too far out, keeping it relatively near him would mean for better protection. Fukai locked eyes with his father, both of them now aggravated. "You aren't going anywhere." Fukai said without trying to hide the exertion in his voice. He could see that his father knew it, his time was running out and he wouldn't be able to get away from Fukai as easily now.
"You're a fucking disgrace, still carrying that thing around. Coddling it like a little baby. SHE'S DEAD! It's been thirteen years and look at you. Pathetic." He was talking about his mother's scarf, the only memento that he had left of her. The piece of cloth that he had worn almost every day from that day on. Fukai had nothing to say, his father was right. But that didn't make the young man want to kill him any less. In his mind, his parents embodied the yin and yang, pure and evil. With his mother enshrined in his mind as the life giving saint and his scum of a father who was not bothered when he had to take his son's life if it meant the furthering of his own goals.

The pair were distracted by the commotion to the side, both of them turning to see Karumo sliding his sword out from a dying Akatsuchi. One of the higher ups of the village and a leader of the coup had just fallen. Fukasai was now alone. His time was up. He turned back to his son. "If it wasn't for you, this would have been over without any fuss. But now look what has happened. Now your death is the consequence." Hatred filled his eyes as he recklessly charged at Fukai and roared. The scarf strands swarmed him, metal blades and sharpened edges slicing through whatever they touched. But he was making progress, large hefty sweeps batting away most of the attacks and blue chakra knitting muscle after each injury. He had halved the distance already and it looked like he would reach Fukai before he was stopped. Fukai slammed a hand down on the floor underneath his scarf and yelled as well as he funneled all of his energy through it. He had to stop the man before he reached him. He had the scarf strand that had been close to his body to extend out towards Fukasai to mask the sight of the chakra traveling through the ground to his location. Fukasai flicked away the last scarf strand to reveal the raiton chakra tip start to emerge from the ground beneath him. In a flash of yellow energy, Fukasai's body was lifted into the sky, completely skewered through by a great chakra structure that jutted from the ground, sealing his fate to the merciless crucifixion.

And that was that. It was over. Fukai retracted his scarf and it started to shrink and curl back into place around his neck. He fell over onto his hands and knees and his staff fell carelessly to the ground, bouncing to a stop a metre away. The fatigue and blood loss was taking it's toll. His panting was deep and he felt his stomach retch. His arms shook a little as he sat there in a dark puddle of dirt, sweat and his own and his father's blood. He sat there in the filth. He sat there. A huge wave of frustration and pent up stress washed over him. His hands dug into the earth, his face contorted with anguish and he bowed his head to the ground in silence.

It was hard to imagine that things could ever be the same.

[1161] /5004
~exit~
THREAD CLOSED

Training: