CALL ME A NINJA ONE MORE TIME [P, Kill Only]

Shot. Shot. Shot. Punching and shouting noises in the background. A silent table in the corner, two men sitting down playing cards. One a tall lean man, skinny as a skeleton, with his eyes covered in black paint, his blonde spiky hair the only thing making his silhouette not a rectangle. The other man, covered by tattoos, wearing both sunglasses, a beanie, and a jacket (with its hood covering part of his beanie), indoors. An asshole³, if you will. This is, of course, Kite, the non-ninja Hyuuga trying too hard to hide his ninja-ness and his Byakugan.

"What's with this bar?" Kite said, "It's like, there's a fight, or two shady MN meeting, or something else. Every day. I swear, every day.". He threw a card down on the table. 7 of Diamonds. The man sitting in front of Kite didn't answer him in the conventional sense, choosing to simply growl, and throw down another card on top of the pile. 6 of Spades. A card got thrown to the top of the pile, by a short arm covered in black leather reaching from under the table, going back in there swiftly after throwing the card. Jack of Spades. "Fuck." Kite said under his breath, as he then piled all the cards on the table up, and put them under the table. He looked at his hand. 2 cards. He threw down a 3 of Hearts.

The weirdly rectangular man groaned again. "Huh?" Kite answered, "For the last time, man, I'm not a ninja.". The man groaned. "No.". Groan. "No, it's... They sell this bundle right here at the market. It's... A lot of savings, just makes much more sense than buying a specific weapon, okay? If I could get that kind of an offer elsewhere, I'd get an anchor tied to chains, just to stick it in your face.". Groan. "Whatever, man, just play.". The man threw down a 2 of Hearts. Kite smiled, almost threw down his last card, until he was startled by the arm coming out from beneath the table. Oh yeah. That. How could Kite skip... That. 2 of Spades. Kite sighed, took the 3 cards on the table, and gave them to whatever was beneath the table. He threw down his last card, 2 of Hearts. He looked at the small pile of cards that was sitting next to him on the sofa, and sighed again. "Guess I'm buying the next round... Too...". He looked around, noticed a person he assumed to be a waiter of some kind, and raised his hand, "ONE MORE ROUND PLEASE!".

Saladin Pendragon looked nothing like a waiter.

His grimy canvas shirt, loose black pants, and salt-encrusted hair of white told of a life adrift from job to job atop the waves. Alas, weeks and weeks had passed since the middle-aged had seen the wide open sea. Instead, he now found himself working in the bilges and swabbing the decks of the boats moored in the nearby marina—he hated it. He hated working under incompetent captains and yet that seemed to be how he now spent his days as of late. Long story short, the bar was the only place the man could relax and unwind.

So, perhaps it is understandable why he reacted to being yelled at like a common waiter in the way he did.

Instead of a curt nod that a waiter may have normally given, Saladin stopped in his tracks, cast a cold red-eyed glance at the man, and then moved in a blur of action. In this blur of action, he brought the empty pint glass in his right hand over his head and threw it at the man who dared imply he was something less than a noble captain. If the man who had requested the next round of drinks—who was across the room from Saladin oh by the way—did not move he would soon find his face flattened and nose broken by the robust drinking glass.

How many drinks had the good captain had?

Oh yeah.

Too many, clearly.

What was with this guy? Granted, Kite was a bit drunk at that point, and couldn't clearly see him, but he just stood there after taking the order. Come to think of it, he dressed a bit over the top for a waiter, didn't he? As soon as the glass started flying in his direction, Kite jumped up from the seat, at the same time taking a step to the left. Again, what was with this guy? Kite looked at the pieces of glass that covered the sofa he was sitting on. Kite walked over to the guy, finding it hard at first balance on the surface of the bar; which felt to him like the surface of a ship in the middle of the ocean. It was not him that was moving sideways, it was the bar. Either way, while trying to walk straight up to the man who had thrown him a glass, he unintentionally moved 90 degrees to the right, while still making eye contact with the same man.

He thought he was close to being face to face with the man, but he realized he had already crashed against a wall far away from the well-dressed man. "Hey!" he shouted, realizing his attempts to reach the man might have been in vain, "What's... The deal, man? I just want a god damn drink!". He then turned to the whole bar, shouting. "What's with this bar, man? Why is somebody always fighting here?". He thought it was a dramatic moment where the whole bar went silent and listened to him; all people in the bar then changing their views on life. In truth, only the man who he was playing cards with a second ago was looking at him, everybody else minding their own business. "That's right. It's time for a wake-up call people!".

Kite tried hard to break away from the wall, and after the 4th attempt he was successful. He walked towards whom he thought was the man that threw the glass at him. "You, man. I'm sorry. You obviously are not a waiter.". The man, who was standing right next to Saladin, was wearing a black suit with a red bowtie, had a platter on one of his hands with drinks on it, some empty and some full. Kite continued, "In fact. You look more like a sailor. Let the... Breeze be on your side when you travel, friend.". He then hugged the man like he was his long-lost brother. "You'll be a great captain, I believe in you.". He then pushed away from the man, once again looking at Saladin. He nodded to him, then started looking around. "Who... Who's a waiter here?" he shouted, the suited man next to him raising his hand instantly. Kite turned to him and pushed the man's raised hand down. "Don't even mention it, friend. It was from the heart. You don't have to thank me.". Kite kept looking around.

Saladin had reached a point in his life where he was certain he'd seen it all at least once. His initial target's antics, however, disproved any such notion in the most absurd fashion. The man seemed to move as if he were from some kind of comic book, jumping up on his table only for it fall under his weight and then trying to draw attention to himself like an inebriated showman. Though his face did not show it in the slightest, Saladin found himself deeply impressed with the display; it was simply amazing how deep one human's idiocy could run. Clearly, there was still a lot left for the former captain to see.

The drunken fool, however, would only be seeing stars for the foreseeable future. After all, the bar he'd entered had three rules posted near the entrance:

1. Pay as you go.

2. Take your fights outside.

3. Don't get physical with the staff.

And, unfortunately for the touchy-feely drunk, he'd just broken the third rule by embracing the waiter who cringed away after being released. Saladin, being who he was, took it upon himself to mete out punishment to the blabbering drunk.

Having turned his back on Saladin to hug the strangely well-dressed waiter, the flamboyant fool left himself vulnerable. He would never get the chance to ask about who the waiter was, for as he turned his gaze towards Saladin he would find his vision nearly eclipsed for Saladin's nasty right hook heading right for the left side of the hugger's face. Given his state, Saladin doubted the man would be able to react in time. Yes, he could see it in his mind's eye: the fool spitting out teeth just before passing out on the ground.

Unfortunately, the former captain's mind's eye was more than a bit impaired at the moment and, in reality, the punch was aimed at empty air to the left of the fool's head. If nothing altered his movements he would hit nothing save for air and find that his own momentum had betrayed him as he collapsed forward onto the very person he had been trying to injure in the first place. Neither man was in any shape to be brawling.

The commotion began to turn heads.

Kite, in his short life, had way too little experience in life to understand what ticked people. What triggered them. He had seen a few popular causes, being insulted, being bugged, being just generally angry. He had seen much of it, if not all. Why though? He quickly realized a punch aimed at him, and he activated his Byakugan, hopefully not being seen through his sunglasses, and the shadow on them that his hat and hoodie granted... But why would this person attack him out of nowhere? Pulling his head back, he managed to barely dodge... I'll get to this bit later... Let's delve a bit into this non-waiter, probably. The man seemed to move as if he were from some kind of edgy teenager's romance-adventure book, attacking a man out of nowhere for some reason that originated from some potential internal monologue. Though his face did not show it in the slightest, Kite found himself deeply impressed with the display; it was simply amazing how confident some people were. He was sincerely amazed, if slightly pissed that he was the target. Clearly, there was still a lot left for the former con artist turned card player turned con artist turned first mate to see.

The agressive man, however, (who started to look more and more like a waiter every second to Kite) would only be seeing kindness and maybe a hug from Kite for the foreseeable future... And presumably also some punches. After all, the bar he'd entered had three rules posted near the entrance:

1. Pay as you go.

2. Take your fights outside.

3. Don't get physical with the staff.

And, unfortunately for the angry fighter, he'd just broken the second rule by attacking the harmless drunk inside the bar. Kite, being who he was, took it upon himself to offer some guidance to the aggressive waiter.

Going back to the punch, since his back was never turned to Saladin, the man being next to him and Kite coming in from the opposite direction, the punch, if not aimed for the waiter initially, would enter Kite's peripheral vision pretty early on, giving him ample time to active his Byakugan and react. Given his state, it was a wonder that the man could swing like this to begin with. Kite was impressed by the man for the second time in a short time. It was only nice to return the favor, hopefully.

Unfortunately, Kite's vision must have been a little bit weakened by the state he was in, even with the Byakugan activated. If he had done nothing, the punch might have missed him, but Kite, misjudging distances and directions, found himself using his swift movement to headbutt into that punch. The punch would send him back into an open area in the bar, fortunately, and not into another person, or a piece of furniture. "Hey!" he said back, when he had full (in his state, so more like half) consciousness again, which took a few seconds. "You... That was a trick shot... You... Tricked me... Nice. But HEY! Rule Number TWO! Let's step outside!". He would be pointing at the waiter he had hugged before. Fortunately, the waiter, not being drunk, could tell he meant the man who threw a punch at Kite, and not himself. He pointed to Saladin, then Back at Kite, and went back and forth a few times, before heading away, starting to serve drinks after this small show.

"Woah!" Kite said, looking around, "Where'd he go?". He looked around a bit more, then shouted "OUTSIDE!", and headed out, not making sure if anyone followed him.

How strange.

Saladin could have sworn the man had turned his back to him when hugging the waiter. This whole thing was starting to get a bit strange and the tavern's patrons seemed to be noticing more and more of it. And, if they weren't watching the strange hug between the waiter and the fool, then their heads snapped around at the sound of fist to face. An indistinct murmur went through the crowd and any competent fighter would have followed up on such a solid hit, but instead, Saladin found himself looking at his own fist as if he was surprised by what the appendage had done.

The pain that he should have felt wasn't there, drink had dulled his senses.

His target's uneven voice drew Saladin's attention away from his fist and to its source. Squinting, he tried to focus, but it was to no avail. One moment there was one fool and the next there were three, it was really really strange.

"Outside, it is!" the man finally announced after some internal deliberation. "Bartender..."

He turned his back to his soon to be opponent and approached the bar. Flashing a surprisingly clean smile at the burly bartender, Saladon slapped down the last of his ryo on the bartop. It would simply be poor manners to not pay his respects to the good bartender, tipping is important.

"Gentleman..." the former captain took a bow as he addressed the patrons at large. "I will be back..."

With his farewells done and his respects paid, Saladin stepped out of the tavern and into the early morning air. Winter was in the air, but the alcohol on his breath and in his stomach lent him its false warmth.

"Alright, you can call me Saladin," he bowed once more in the direction of his fellow drunk. "Shall we?"

He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly as if it was a legitimate question. And, honestly? It was a legitimate question; he was a bit hazy on the details that had led to this moment. Was he going to fight this man? Did he even know him? Where was his ship?

Hmm....

As soon as Kite stepped out of the bar, a wave of cold air hit him. It almost sobered him up, for a second, before just causing an annoying biting feeling on his skin without helping with the state of his mind at all. He walked straight forwards, almost heading home, but remembering when he was 5 meters away from the bar that he had another business to settle before he could sleep.

Hearing a voice, Kite turned around and scoffed. At least he attempted to, but it became a cough. It was not a problem, Kite believed Saladin would not even realize. "Saladin?" Kite repeated, putting his arms forward, "Nice to meet you. And we shall. And I'm Kite, also...". He coughed again. Was it kind of cold or was his drunk mind playing tricks on him? He couldn't really tell.

"We shall..." he answered again, hoping the man would kindly start whatever they were about to start, as even in his drunk state he was too self-conscious to ask what they were planning. He kept staring at the man blandly, his body shaking ever so slightly, both slowly from left to right, and vibrating swiftly at the same time; one being the effect of the alcohol and the other, the cold.

"It's Kite by the way... The name. My name...". Did he already say that? He wasn't sure. Well, it was important information he had to get across. So there was no harm in repeating even if he was doing so. Wait... Did he introduce himself yet? He nodded his head up, "Kite.".

"Kite, that's a strange name," Saladin commented seemingly talking to himself before introducing himself for what was surely the first time. "Well, Kite, call me Saladin."

An even stranger silence than Kite's name followed as the former captain's mind raced from thought to thought. For the life of him, he could not recall why he'd followed this man outside. He knew it had something to do with a waiter. Oh, and a bar...there had been a bar and a waiter. Had he been thrown out of a bar again? Yes, that seemed rather likely he conceded in a moment of sober clarity. Of course, in the next moment said clarity evaporated into nothingness as the sea of alcohol in his stomach asserted its dominance with a low rumble.

"You know, that waiter was an ass," he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the bar. "I dunno why he threw us out, I'm totally fine."

As if to prove how 'fine' he was he threw his arms out to either side before drawing them back.

"You Kite, though, you're good people," Saladin nodded to himself. "If you ever need a job come find me by the docks."

Taking a breath of cool air, he took an abrupt turn to the left and began walking in the direction that he hoped would lead him to the water. It smelled salty enough and he needed to sleep off his excesses.

[Exit, TWC: 1232, +6 stats, +913 words to hidden arms technique, and +319 towards Lightning Release: Chakra Blade]

Approved.

Kite was too drunk to hear the first part of the sentence, but he reacted to the second part nonetheless. "Saladin? That's a weird name. I think it is. Maybe.". He had no idea what they were doing here.

"Yeah. What the hell is with the management here man? I swear that guy punched me for no reason. I'm totally fine as well. Anyway... Nice to meet, you Salamander. I'll sure remember to come find you for a job.".

[EXIT. WC: 1872. Claiming:

9 Stats.
162 words towards Gentle Fist Palm Bottom (338+162= 500/500)
Bull Rush D-Rank (1000/1000)
710 words towards Dynamic Entry (710/1000)]