The Oni turned his head halfway, no longer looking at either Ronin directly, but somewhere in between them.  One of his lower arms jerked a thumb backward at Bones.  

“Dust ‘im,” he grumbled.  

The man turned obediently from Shinobi, lifting the scythe part of his weapon.  The chain moved, apparently of its own accord, slithering and clinking from his waist, and up his arm.  The chain gained slack as more of its length came onto his arm, and soon it dropped heavily to the floor, as if it were made of lead.  It was black as a void.  

“I thought this was Original Ronin,” he said this with a sneer in his harsh, whispering voice, “Territory.  Him we expected, not some bonehead kid.  Why don’t you..”

Shinobi cut the man off, “Not your fight, kid,” but only got that far when the Oni charged.  Shinobi had his sword out of the scabbard, but only had the left hand on it when the Oni’s enormous club connected with it.  It blocked the blow from hitting him, but Shinobi was knocked backward.  He rolled once, but came out in a crouched position, his sword in an overhead guard, two handed now. 

“Just what I was saying,” the scythe man said, and launched his kusarigama from his hand.  As before, it moved with little input from the man, shooting from his hand in a straight line, but not aimed directly at Bones, rather past him, on a trajectory to come back and wrap him in the chain.  

[@GingerBoi123]

~~~

Someone sat at a laptop on a table, watching a live drone feed from a fight about to break out.  They opened a new tab, and began checking a janky, 90’s looking website that listed known Oni in Burokun. 

Kuro Kohai.  Black Oni(obviously).  No known affiliations, entry from two days ago.  Only one fight on record, left a Ronin in the hospital, but didn’t bother killing him.  No known injuries.  

A blip came from the computer, heralding an instant message. 

[color=39b54a]gren: hey yella aint that a hopeful staring down a bloni??[/color]

[color=fff200]Yellow: Yes. Might like to see up close. Suit up.[/color]

[color=39b54a]gren: iunno yella, black isnt even a neon color.. doesnt go does it??[/color]

[color=39b54a]gren: also.. not worth starting beef with orobs, is it??[/color]

[color=fff200]Yellow: Suit up.[/color]

The laptop slammed shut.

~~~

There was a clatter behind Rubin, and if he were to look back, he would see a garbage can rolling out of an alley, having been knocked over.  Curiously, the only thing spilling from it was a pile of fine white ash, which drifted up in dust clouds that seemed to disappear as quickly as the wind could kick them up.  

A whisper flitted up the street.  

“Clutter… Filth… Disorder…” 

There was silence for a moment, and then something struck the back of Rubin’s head.  It was the palm of a hand, which became apparent as the fingers, long and spindly, wrapped around the left side of his head, covering the visor of his helmet.  

Over his right shoulder, a creature with a long neck, and creamy ivory skin craned its head.  It forcibly turned on Rubin’s helmet, to force them face to face.  Its face was a mask.  A serene face of purest white, with black hair on the top, in a knot.

“Why are you so dirty?”


[@rocketrobie2]