War Atop the Dead! [Closed]

Ken Ishikawa, he believed in the power of psychology and tactics. A simple thing, like a graveyard, could be enough to throw people off their game. Being late could be just as powerful, especially when it was getting dark. They were supposed to have met in the graveyard, just before sundown. Now it was quickly getting darker. A fog of sorts often settled in at night, just drifting along the ground. It was just about time to begin.

The arrival of the star gang was punctuated by the sound of rattling chain and the firm slap of weapons into hands as they tested their heft. The sound of boots crunching through the dirt and of laughing. They came into sight, carrying torches. Beyond the psyching out his enemies, Ken had just effectively blinded them with such a bright light in a pitch black graveyard. As hands raised up to cover eyes, to shield their sensitive eyes from the bright light, came the cry of, "GET THEM!"

Chains begun to whirl, whistling through the air before landing with a sound which would make a lesser man wince. But while the chains sounded nasty, the real killer here were the clubs and bats. Crushing blows smashing knee caps and ribs while howls of pain tore through the night. By the time the other gang could see right they would be outnumbered, and those who could still fight would likely be hurt. Any ninja could see the simple tactics behind what happened tonight. This was well coordinated and planned, more then the simple feuding of gangs.

Of course there was the fact that this was one of the most disrespectful things a person could do in a graveyard. It was unthinkable to be having a fight atop the bodies of great warriors and leaders past. It was sickening, almost. Elders everywhere would be infuriated. The kids these days had no respect for anything, not the living, and certainly not the dead! But who would teach them a lesson? It would be up to the ninja to restore order. There was one now..

Ishikawa Ken, a Genin of the leaf. Certainly he would restore order and disperse this crowd... the flickering light of the torch flicked across the back of his jacket, revealing a large star. He was with the star gang! Next to him was a bo staff thrust into the ground so as to leave his hands empty. He watched the carnage from the rear, content to let his boys get their fill of blood.

That was until the fight was brought to him. A fist jabbed in for his face and found air over his shoulder as the gangster felt strong hands clamp down on his arm. He pulled down and pushed up with his shoulder, leaning over and hurling the gangster into a tombstone, shattering it with the impact of the thug. Whoever's family that stone belonged to wasn't going to be happy with him if they found out. Not only was he fighting on top of their bodies, but now he was desecrating their grave sites.

Ken raised back up, grinning. Things were going just as he planned. It may only be a band of hooligans, but this night showed his command ability and strategy. His gang could win even without him as their ringer with plans this well executed. Now the only question left in his mind was how long till other ninja arrived to break this up..

"Fighting... Aha ha HA!", Ken was doubled over laughing. Hysterical laughter. He knew how much it could piss a person off to be laughed at. The simple act of acting superior held great power in any fight. He rose back up, wiping a tear of joy from his eye.

"You must be joking. ..This here?", he said with a glance to his men, "Is war.", his face contorting into a scowl. Ken's hand shot out to the side, his hand slowly closing around the shaft of the bo staff in what seemed like a gentle manner until the sound of his gloves creaking under the pressure his hands were creating around the staff was heard. That very glove was the thing he counted on to enrage the ANBU, the crest of konoha from his head band having been cut out and laid into the back of the glove. He was more then a common thug or bully, he was a ninja sworn and bound to serve this village. Either that or he had taken it off a ninja, which might be more horrifying then him actually being a ninja. Who had he possibly killed to get that? Was he intending to revolt against the lord hokage? The symbol raised many questions, all of which would do to raise the fire in the blood of this defender of the people.

He plucked the staff from the ground with ease, revealing that half a foot of staff had been buried in the dirt. It would have taken immense strength to do that... more then mere muscle could provide. Taking a few steps forward he gave the staff a twirl over his head before stabbing forward with a circular motion meant to confuse the eyes, not actually strike. The strike actually came directly after, ken thrusting forward and up, shooting the tip of the staff from level with the sternum to the eye level before it would make contact with that pretty mask, should he land the hit.

As rough as the first hit could be, more danger lurked. The first motion was solely to confuse, the second to confuse and disorient as well as keep the opponents vision high. That would make the third the hardest to dodge, even should the second motion miss. Instead of using the same end of the staff to strike again, he stepped in and brought the back of the staff down in an arc, driving it up to strike at the underside of chin with tremendous force.

..But the biggest threat was in the last and final attack. The front side that he made the first two motions with was now back, and given the recovery time from being hit with the third motion.. which was the most likely to hit, and ready to be swung down to cave in the skull of the opponent with a strike to the temple with lethal potential. It was a blow that could have been decisive, but instead when he swung he only powered the swing with a back handed motion from one arm, letting the other hitch a ride and slow down the swing. It would still sting, but it wouldn't kill him.

The problem was that now he was in an opened position, striking through so that his lower ribs and side were completely exposed for attack... not to mention the side of his head. It would take a keen eye to spot, but his leg lifted and then hesitated before returning to the ground. Had this been a true battle there would have been a kick there.. one could only imagine the power that the spinning motion could impart into his foot and leg.

Mercy seemed like an odd thing for him to exhibit right now. The way he was acting would suggest he was trying to kill this ANBU, but the way he fought said that he was pulling his punches. It would take a keen eye to spot, but it was all there to be seen. Had this brute wanted to, he could have seriously hurt someone with a single blow from the tip of the staff he was wielding. Perhaps that was why he wasn't fighting in the skirmish of the gangs? But perhaps it was because he was lazy. Conclusions would be hard to draw about him. The only thing that was certain was that if this ANBU was worthy of his position he was about to et his ass handed to him. Secretly he knew it and wanted it.

His doom was his grip. He could have even avoided the throw be simply lowering his weight down or releasing the staff. Either way would have kept him where he was. But that wasn't his goal. The ANBU might notice his red eyes following the movement of his hand, clearly showing that he wasn't as surprised as would be expected. His level of skill was beyond the typical genin. He knew the possible ways to stop this attack and had practiced reactions to them. But instead of allowing his muscle memory and instinct to take hold he held firm and was ripped off his feet and slung into the air.

While spinning through the air his eyes seaked out where he would make his landing. Just before hitting the mausoleum he put his plan into action. His grip tightened on the staff as he concentrated, sending chakra flooding into his body as the staff splintered and broke in his hands. When he hit, his body smashed clearing into the side of the stone building, leaving behind an impact crater and crushed stone which fell with him to the ground.

All around him the gang members scattered, running like cockroaches. No one sparred a moment to look back. It was a full thirty seconds before he opened his right eye only, searching around for signs of his gang. After a quick sweep the impossible happened, he began to get up as if nothing had happened, dusting off his jacket and pants. Most ninja would rush to the conclusion he had substituted or used some other cheap trick to mitigate the damage of being thrown nearly through a wall, but not Ken.

Dust and bits of rock had settled into his hair, making him look good and beat up... well except for the lack of bruises and cuts. He looked back at the ANBU over his shoulder dispassionately. He didn't say anything though. He didn't need to. The fight was over. He would soon fake battle wounds before returning to his gang who now had a new respect for the law. Tonight would mean that less crime would happen in the city. He had kept them from many schemes to steal from shops by keeping them fighting... but when they grew too confident he had to do something like this. The fact that other genin would see him beat up would be a bonus. He returned his view forward, a hand straying into his jacket to take out a shiruken. He would use the blades of it to spill some of his own blood to keep up appearances. He had to.

Spoiler:

~Faster then I thought. Three minutes I'd guess. It's a good thing I wasn't a real threat.~ He thought to himself as he took the shiruken in hand and drew one of it's points across his brow, blood begining to drip down in little rivulets. It would look much more gruesome then it was. Now all he would need was a black eye and taped up ribs and no one would be the wiser.

The black eye was the part he hated... there simply was no good way to fake a black eye. It needed to be real. It needed to be a nasty one too, considering who it was who he fought. He crouched down, grabbing a chunk of rock that had been broken off by his impact with the small building. He gave it a quick toss up and down to get a feel for it's weight before clubbing himself in the face with it.

"AAAUUURGH!", he cried out as he tossed the rock away, his hand lifting up to touch at the tender, abused flesh. It was already red and would begin swelling any moment now. He'd have to be careful to ice it enough or he wouldn't be able to see out of it for a few days. He wanted it to look bad, but he needed to be able to see. He wouldn't let someone sneak up on him because he couldn't see out one eye. He had made a lot of people angry tonight. He expected them to come looking for him soon. He would not present them with a spot to stick a blade over a self inflicted wound.

He had to wait though. to create the illusion of being knocked out he had to give time that he would have been blacked out. He would have time then to apologize to the spirits of the dead he had angered here today. Time to try and make amends to those buried here who did not deserve his disrespect. Half an hour later he limped out of the graveyard to get patched up.

Half his face was covered in blood, and his eye looked to be getting worse rapidly. He'd take care of the rest of faking his injury when he got home. That was his plan for the rest of the night. By morning the entire village would be getting word of what had happened, and he would once again be considered not worth attention, which was just what he wanted.

Topic closed and Ended.