Move Like Smoke

With memories from his past having concluded, for the moment he feels at least, and the mountain scaled, Ru finds himself in a snow covered version of that same area he stood in back when he was young. He’s much older now. A real ninja, in all regards, compared to what he had been when he claimed his blade.

Still, snow will slow him down. Thankfully, it isn’t deep. By looks of things it’s been cleared recently and only a thin dusting has recovered the ground in whatever time it has been since.

He doubts Master Ento would’ve been the one to clear the snow. He’s far too old for that sort of work. In fact, the old turtle having gotten up here is quite the feat in itself, seeing as the last time Ru came through this way his old mentor could barely manage more than a single lap around the gardens. And as you can imagine a lap of some gardens in Winhei is much shorter of a distance compared to the thousands of metre climb up this tall mountain whose name shall not be mentioned nor thought.

It has not escaped the greying Red Kangaroo’s notice either that there are several bodies scattered about. Without doubt they were once ninja, like him. In total he spies three; he hopes that there is no more than that. Though, if these ninja felled any souls before their untimely demises there are no signs of it. It could be the potential bodies of the fallen have already been buried by those who are the cause. Ru does not know, but with sword drawn, he pushes forward toward the shrine.

You see, his sword was not laid out within the shrine but rather on a wooden section near to its square base, atop a low rock retaining wall which keeps the dirt upon which the shrine itself is sat in place. Without it the shrine would have long ago subsided and more than likely collapsed.

To be honest the shrine, with its wide pointed hidden roof, looks more than a tad worse for wears with its shedding paint and mud speckled walls. In fact, by the looks of things only the rice paper doors seem to have gotten any attention and love for they remain vaguely presentable, but no more than that. The sight is a sad one to see and yet not something the ninja can himself remedy for he is not a craftsman. His father had been, but he has long since passed. The same goes for his mother.

 Both are buried in Winhei cemetery. Their graves are one of two reasons, Master Ento being the other, as to why he returns to the town. Perhaps his visits are not as often as they should be. Though, they are as often as he can manage. After all, the life of a ninja is not an easy one.

Putting thoughts of his departed parents, the state of the shrine, the bodies of his fallen brethren, his less frequent than should be returns to Winhei and everything else aside, Ru walks slowly toward silhouettes.

Before long these silhouettes bathe their surroundings in light. It is clear they have heard Ru’s approach, chiefly because he is making no efforts to hide his presence. Most unlike the day he claimed the sword in his hand, which is not drawn but certainly at the ready.

“Boss, it looks like we have another visitor here for the old Master.” One of the thugs, a cat, in dirty blue robes barks loudly without thought or care for the place in which he is stood.

Seconds after from around the corner of the shrine appears a burly looking brute with a scar across his face. The ninja does not recognise the man. It does not surprise him in the slightest to have reached such a conclusion either.

“Take him out like the others.” Is the command issued in reply.

The statement having followed a passing glance over the Red Kangaroo stood in full armour; hand on scabbard ready for battle.

“With pleasure.” One of the bandits murmurs as the group of nine begin to close in around the Red Kangaroo.

In his younger days Ru would’ve been reticent to enter the fray in a manner such as this but those days are long gone. Principally that is because he is fully aware of what he is and is not capable of and so he issues one warning; it’s the only one he is ever willing to offer, “Lay down your blades and I will let you free.”

“Why would we do that? You see your friends. They didn’t fare so well. Hence, we’ll be taking our chances.”

The assurance does not surprise Ru, nor does it alter what comes next for he is ninja not samurai and so pulls his blade leaps to the closest pair and delivers a flurry of strikes. Both bandits fall, one a fox the other a wolf.

A thrust, rash and untrained, comes the Red Kangaroo’s way. He deftly pirouettes away only to deliver a pair of swings which fells a third combatant before he delivers a gauntled fist to a fourth who goes down hard.

Shocked and barely able to process the speed with which this has all happened because the ninja moves like smoke, the remaining four freeze in place, hesitant to engage. Their fear is of their own making. After all, they were offered a chance to avoid this but refused the seldom offered chance to flee, and so they will be shown no restraint.

Which is evident as following a leap over the head of two of the bandits, Ru leans back on his tail and delivers a double kick to both. They fly backwards before slamming into the low rock retaining wall with twin clangs.

With only two bandits left the ninja decides to let them come to him, rather than him rush them. They are reticent to begin with but ultimately bite; overeager and frantic.

Moving like smoke the last two fall with little effort having been exercised on Ru’s part.

Still, the ninja keeps his sword at the ready just in case there are other bandits hid around. There are and they soon attack having apparently concluded that the Red Kangaroo will not come to them. Which is correct, he will not. This fight is on his terms, not theirs.

These hidden swordsmen are who he suspects felled his brethren, but unlike his dispatched kin he caught them earlier on. It’s why he was inclined to face his enemies head on rather than skulk in the shadows where he might risk a knife in the back, jabbed between his plates.

Bandits are known for such things for they prefer unfair advantages. In that way the Red Kangaroo is aware they are like ninja but that is as far as similarities go.

The four new bandits rush the ninja as a collective.

They last seconds against a master of the blade. And when Ru is done the bodies, having delivered kicks, tail slaps and a punch; topple to the layer of snow which blankets this space.

With no more bandits left to stand in his way, Ru marches up the steps of the shrine to the sliding door. He pushes one section aside and steps through.

Immediately he finds facing him the burly brute of a bandit leader, a snarling bear, with face scarred.

“Took ‘em out did you? Huh. Knew someone might come along who could handle my boys. No matter you still have me stood between you and the old reptile. He’s why you’re here, right? But I know you’re asking why I took him. What this is all about. I could let him tell you but…”

With the speed of a lightning bolt, the ninja zips across the shrines interior and delivers a strike. Yet, the best description of how he moves continues to be as if he were smoke. It is not something Ru was taught. Rather, it was how his style of fighting has developed over the long years of being a ninja.

The bear, having stopped mid speech, reacts in the only way anyone defeated might; his jaw drops, eyes widen but his body does not move for he is paralysed. A couple seconds after that the bandit leader drops to his knees then topples over sideways, where he will remain.

“I can guess but do not care to hear your words.” Which is true, Ru can guess that at one time this bandit leader was in training to be a ninja. Clearly he did not endure, succeed like the Red Kangaroo did and so turned to a life of cruelty.

In his time the ninja has faced many of such an ilk. He feels no remorse for them for they chose their path; just they chose it poorly, believing, no doubt, they had been slighted by some being or another.

“Ru, my boy, is that you?” The old croaky voice asks.

Without a word the Red Kangaroo rushes over to his old Master. One look at him informs he who had been the student that his old mentor has gone blind.

The ninja stifles a sigh, not wanting it to be heard, then utters, “Yes Master Ento, it is Ru. I am here for you. You are safe now.”

“And Balias?”

“The bear?”

The old turtle nods in confirmation.

“He will harm no more.” Is the promise delivered in swift response.

“Good. Thank you Ru, thank you.”

“Do not thank me Master; I only did what you trained me to be able to. Now we need to get you warm and comfortable. The hour is late. We’ll descend the mountain in the morn.”

“Yes, yes. We will descend Harminaya once the sun has risen.”

Wincing from having heard the name of the mountain spoken, Ru concludes that Master Ento must be very close to his end.

He’s been alive for centuries and yet soon his time to depart for the after will arrive. Until then Ru thinks he will stay close, in Winhei. He feels it is his duty. After all, he wasn’t here when his parents departed. The least he can do is be here when his Master does.