There are many legends throughout history that speak of individuals or groups who have spread terror across their geographical location, and further across the world, due to the nature of their actions or personalities. Two years ago, for exactly 365 days, one such group did just that, putting cities in a perpetual state of fear and making law enforcement and criminals alike tremble in their shoes.

This group was known as the Kyuushingai—the Nine Terrors.

Their name was well-chosen, for according to the stories, just one member of the Kyuushingai alone could hold his or her own against entire gangs and escape unscathed. One member alone could wipe out a whole squadron of fighters; working together, all nine could conceivably reduce a city to ashes in less than an hour. During their year of terror, people often speculated that if any two of the Kyuushingai were to clash directly, the immediate collateral damage would be absolutely catastrophic.

Nobody knew the true identities of any of the Kyuushingai, or even had a concrete idea what any of them looked like. Speculations ran rife, certainly, but what was known for sure was that nobody who had ever seen any of them in action ever lived to tell the story. The best anyone had was a smattering of information here and there, but much of this was hearsay and rumor and could easily be dismissed as exaggerations designed to frighten and unnerve. The only three things the various stories agreed on were that the members of the Kyuushingai were of varying ages, that all of them used outlandish and deadly fighting techniques, and that their destructive bloodbaths occurred mainly at night.

For 365 days, beginning exactly at January 1 and continuing until December 31, the Nine Terrors cut a trail of chaos, agony and death from Kumo City in the northeast to Tani City in the far south. Everyone across the continent lived on edge, never knowing at what hour the Terrors might show up outside their city limits. Whenever sunset came on, parents would hurry their children indoors, conversations were held in hushed whispers, and police patrols increased in number and intensity. The few business-places that remained open at nights, such as restaurants or hotels, had their security teams doubled or tripled, and made a point of being extremely hospitable to every guest they hosted, in case one of those guests might turn out to be one of the Kyuushingai and cause a rampage if crossed. Among the many urban legends across the country was one about a waiter in Taki Town who, accidentally spilling some soup while serving a guest, was so freaked out that he might have unwittingly offended a Kyuushingai member that he had a breakdown and had to be put in a mental facility thereafter.

Then December 31 came and went…and just like that, as if they had never existed, the Kyuushingai ceased to be.

Nobody knew what happened to any of the nine, whether they had been killed by vengeful enemies or by gangsters or cops who happened to get lucky, or if they had been captured by government agencies for use in black-ops missions, or if they had simply gotten bored of their razes and decided to call it quits. Likewise, nobody knew what it was that led to their year-long campaign stopping just when it did. All that was certain was that their memory, and the things they did in that one-year period, could not vanish from memory soon enough.

Another year came and went, and in that time the stories of the Kyuushingai's exploits became the stuff of legend, impressive for such a short time-frame between their genesis and their vanishing. The stories were exaggerated, with details made up for the sake of creating excitement or fear in the hearers, mostly saying that the Nine Terrors were ten feet tall and 400-pound muscle-bound warriors who wielded the type of exotic weapons that could only exist in the realm of fiction. Some stories claimed that the group's members were wild-eyed, cannibalistic blood-drinkers who ate babies and children just because they could; others rumored that the Terrors could kill you so quickly that you wouldn't even realize you were dead until after they pointed it out to you. Although the official death toll from their year of activity was 247, the exaggerations attributed kills of over 1000 to them, or said that just one Terror was capable of killing 300 in a fortnight, or insisted that the official number was just a cover-up for a much higher body count that was no less than 2000.

Regardless, the Kyuushingai vanished into the mists of the next 365 days' worth of time.

And then…two years after the last reported sighting of the Kyuushingai…


Kitsune no Ken: Fist of the Fox

Written by Neon Majestic

(DISCLAIMER: The Naruto franchise and the characters therein belong to and were originally created by Masashi Kishimoto.)


CHAPTER 1 – Welcome Wagon

6:45 p.m. The bus rolled into the terminal, gently slowing to a complete stop, and a short while later the passengers disembarked, clutching their bags and other valuables. Heading out of the terminal, or meeting with family and friends who had been awaiting their arrival, the passengers who had been sitting together in solidarity hours before now dispersed, some to homes that they had not seen in weeks or months, and others to hail cabs that would take them to their reserved hotels or resorts. Just outside the bus terminal, a huge sign stood in just-sparking blue neon lights for everyone to see: "WELCOME TO KONOHA TOWN." This sign let the newly-arrived travelers know that their current location, the largest populated settlement in the immediate region, was a welcoming place and that they were invited to partake of its food and hospitality.

Among the new arrivals from the bus trip was a young man carrying a duffel bag over his shoulder. Unlike his traveling companions, he did not have anyone waiting for him, and he did not hail any cabs to take him anywhere. Coolly slinging the string of the bag over his shoulder, he walked out of the terminal, past the KONOHA TOWN sign, and along the sidewalk. He idly noted the rapidly-darkening sunset sky, barely acknowledged the cars zooming past on the roadway, and only casually noted that on the other side of the street were suburban houses adjoined to small businesses. Still, one of those business-places caught his eye, and he decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to go over there and see what they had to offer.

Crossing the street, he took in the sign above the store's doorway: Yamanaka's Flower Store and Greengrocery. Allowing himself a very faint smirk, he pulled the door open, noting that doing so rang a bell at the top of the doorway. "Hello?" he called.

The store proprietor, an older man with dirty-blond hair, was sitting at the cash register reading a newspaper in a somewhat bored manner. He glanced up at the newcomer's approach, but the impassive expression on his face didn't change. "Evening, young man," he spoke up. "How can I help you?"

"Got any fresh onions, pops? Also, I want a bouquet of tulips, the reddest ones you've got," the young stranger replied.

The owner nodded his head toward the back of the store. "I've got a rack with onions down there; pick whatever you like. I'll get the tulips for you." For the first time, he chuckled. "Going to go impress a girl? Maybe cook for her?"

"Maybe." The younger man's face remained neutral as he walked toward the back of the store.

Shrugging, the other man reached beneath the counter and pulled out a pair of gardening shears—and just at that moment, the doorway-bell rang again as the door was pulled open, this time by a trio of young people. "Oi, Yamanaka!" one of them hailed the owner.

Yamanaka scowled. "What do you want this time?"

"Aww, is that any way to talk to friends, old geezer?" the lone female of the trio queried, pouting in mock disappointment. "Anyhow, we're here for the usual payout. Fork it over and we'll be on our merry way."

Yamanaka's grip on the shears tightened, as did the muscles in his jaw. "I thought I told you punks the last time, I'm not paying you another red cent. You're just a bunch of extortionists who ought to be locked up and the key thrown away."

The trio's first speaker scoffed. "Oh, really? Better watch your mouth, you old fossil, and do as we say right now," he said with warning in his tone. "Or have you forgotten who our boss is?"

"That's right," the girl spoke up with a leer in her tone. "A former member of the infamous Nine Terrors; that gang that caused so much carnage for a whole year, two years ago. That's not somebody you want to make an enemy out of, now do you?"

"Nine Terrors, my foot—a crook is still a crook no matter what label he puts on himself," Yamanaka snorted.

The third member of the group, who up to now hadn't uttered a word, took a step toward the counter. "Zaku, Kin, we're wasting time on this tired old reject," he growled through the bandages covering his mouth. "I say we just trash this place, take what we want, and get out of here."

In an instant Yamanaka came around the counter and confronted the three, holding the shears tightly. "Just try it, you little pukes! Get out now!" he snapped.

"Ooh, look, Dosu, you made him mad," Zaku chuckled. "Better be careful with those things, Yamanaka; you could have an accident with them or something."

Kin tossed her hair back contemptuously with one hand. "Don't try anything, pops, or we might just tell our boss. And then what'll happen to you and your wife and daughter, you think?" and her companions snickered a little as she added this.

"Last chance. Hand over the payment without a fuss, or get ready to get hurt. Everybody else on the block chooses to pay up—why rock the boat, right?" Dosu remarked.

"Screw you, punk." Yamanaka gritted his teeth.

Dosu shrugged. "Feh, whatever. Zaku, get the cash register."

Zaku nodded and stepped toward the counter. In an instant Yamanaka rushed at him, ready to stab him with the shears—but even more quickly Kin intervened, grabbing Yamanaka's upraised wrist with one hand and sending a punishing knee into his gut. Yamanaka let out a gasp of pain as the shears fell out of his grip, but he barely had time to register what had just happened before Kin grabbed the back of his head and shoved him face-first to the ground, following up with stomping her foot on his head to pin him to the ground. "Too slow, geezer," Kin said mockingly.

Clutter, clutter!

In a moment the three thugs' attention was drawn to the noise of a vegetable rack being stumbled into. Dosu promptly stalked to the back of the store. "Well, well, what have we here?" he said in singsong as he came from behind the aisle a moment later, clutching the stranger by the hair and roughly dragging him along.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow! Hey, go easy on the hair, man! I didn't do anything!" the youth protested, struggling against Dosu's grip.

"Heeeeeey, he's kinda cute," said Kin, licking her lips.

"I've never seen him around town before. An out-of-towner, huh?" Dosu yanked the boy's head upward to force eye contact.

"Uh…yeah, yeah, that's it!" the boy nodded vigorously. "C'mon, just go easy, would you? I don't know anything about this!"

"Urgh…leave him alone!" Yamanaka attempted to get up, but Kin stomped on his head again, forcing his face on the floor, and he flinched and grunted in pain as his face made hard contact with the tiles.

"I didn't tell you to move, now did I?" Kin spat at the store owner.

Zaku, meanwhile, was taking cash out of the cash register. "One hundred…one hundred and thirty…one hundred and seventy…two hundred…two hundred and twenty…two hundred and fifty…yep, that's about right," he announced.

"Take another fifty out of there, just for time wasted," Dosu snorted, and Zaku complied. "So, then, we've taught Yamanaka a lesson…how about this punk?" Dosu continued, indicating the young stranger.

"C'mon, can I have him? I'll keep him as a good pet, I promise!" Kin put on a cute-sounding voice full of pleading. "I'll feed him, and take him for walks, and…"

"Oh, shut up," Dosu growled. "That's just a waste of time. But…" Here he forced eye contact with the boy again. "Hey, kid, since you're new in town, let me give you a little piece of advice. Anywhere you see us, or anybody else that works for the former Nine Terrors boss, Mizuki, you bow down and pay us homage. Like so—get on your knees and kiss my feet. Now!" And he promptly shoved the boy to the ground.

"Y-y-yeah! Got it!" The youth promptly got on his hands and knees and proceeded to shower Dosu's sneakers with kisses.

"Well, at least he knows how to obey," Zaku chuckled. "See that, Yamanaka? You could learn a thing or two. Take notes for next time."

"Let's go!" Dosu ordered, kicking the groveling boy aside as he stomped toward the door. Zaku and Kin followed shortly after, leaving Yamanaka and the boy in the store.

"Ungh…damn punks…" Yamanaka grimaced and put a hand to his mouth as he slowly got up, leaving a small trail of blood and saliva dripping from his lips. "You all right there, boy?"

"Uh, yeah…" The boy stood up as well, and then took in the older man's face. "Aw, geez, you're bleeding!"

"Oh, this?" Yamanaka indicated his bleeding mouth. "This is nothing—I've suffered worse injuries in my time. Although now, I'll have to find some way to make up for what those bastards stole…"

"A-HA! Got you in the act this time, you damn thief!"

The next thing the boy knew, someone charged at him with a heavy-looking object and swung it at his head with violence—then nothing but blackness.


"Ino, how many times have I told you—don't act so impulsively!"

"Sorry, Papa…I thought he was one of those guys who're always coming to extort money from us!"

The boy's consciousness swam back slowly, with the two voices penetrating the darkness of his senses. Opening his eyes gingerly, he became aware of a warm, damp feeling covering the throbbing ache on the right side of his head, and he gingerly reached up to touch it.

"Oh, you're awake now. Are you all right, boy?"

"Hmm?" The boy looked up to see Yamanaka's concerned face hovering over him. "Uh…yeah…I think so. What hit me?"

"That would be me…with a baseball bat." A second face came in the boy's line of sight; that of a girl around his own age with blond hair tied in a ponytail and a sheepish look on her face. "Sorry about that. I thought you were trying to rob Papa."

"Hmm…I kinda figured it's an ongoing thing, from what they said." The boy slowly sat up.

"I'm sorry you had to get involved in our problems, son." Yamanaka shook his head. "And to repay you for the whack Ino here gave you, I'll let you have what you ordered, free of charge."

"But—" the boy started.

"Never mind the losses; I can always make them back up. Money's not so hard to reclaim, as long as you work hard enough." Yamanaka gave him a look that was final.

"…I guess." The boy gingerly touched his aching head-injury. "But what was all that about…their boss being one of the Nine Terrors, or something?"

At that Ino's face darkened. "Yeah…he's the head extortionist." She looked away. "It started about three months ago. Mizuki and his gang came roaring into town, and he was claiming that he was one of the infamous Kyuushingai—the Nine Terrors—and everybody had better fear him because of that. Since then he's caused a lot of property damage and injured plenty of people who won't give in to his gang's demands. The cops don't even bother to come in response to any calls from this neighborhood anymore, because of them."

"Well…I know a bit about the history of the Nine Terrors…don't the stories say they're supposed to be some really scary fighters? This Mizuki guy doesn't sound like he matches up," the boy commented.

"That's what the police thought at first." Ino shook her head. "The first couple of days, they sent a lot of police teams to arrest him…he slaughtered the whole lot of them."

"She's right," Yamanaka took up the tale. "Ten cops brutalized by Mizuki and his gang in one night, another three killed and fourteen more critically wounded the next night…after a while everybody just decided it would be best if we just gave in to their demands. At least then, there wouldn't be any more unnecessary bloodshed."

The boy eyed him. "Except you, I'm guessing."

"Yes. Except me." Yamakana's eyes narrowed. "I've worked too hard and for too long to allow a bunch of criminals to reap everything I've sown. As long as I have life in me, I won't give these thugs the satisfaction of victory."

Now the youth lowered his eyes. "The Kyuushingai…modern-day bogeymen to children…living nightmares to adults…and according to the stories, they caused so much chaos in one year …"

"Yeah, and all of that was just two years ago. Everybody was on edge, and nobody knew when one of those nine bastards would show up on their doorstep." Ino scowled. "And now, one of them is in our own town, making trouble just because he can get away with it. Unforgivable!"

"But how do you even know this Mizuki guy is one of them? Nobody really knows what the Kyuushingai members looked like, right?" the boy inquired.

"Well, him being able to kill off that many cops and inspire this much fear in such a short space of time should certainly be proof enough," Ino said with disgust.

"…I see." Again the boy lowered his gaze. "Well, this is quite a pickle. I came to this town after a long bus trip, and already I've run into problems before I've even had my first day here."

"Well, I'm sorry your first impression of Konoha Town was so bad, boy," Yamanaka said sympathetically. "But please take my word on this—this town has some bad seeds, sure, but there's a lot of good here too. You just have to know how to find them."

The youth chuckled. "For what it's worth, mister…I think this store you run has some of that good."

Yamanaka smiled. "Thank you." Now he stood up. "Well…I guess I'd better repackage your onions and tulips for you. Are you sure you're good to go where you're going?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm cool…it shouldn't be far from here, at any rate," the boy replied. "Thanks again for the first aid."

"You're welcome. And I'm sorry again for conking you," and Ino again appeared sheepish.

"Hey, you were trying to defend your dad. Nothing to it." The boy nodded at her.


A little while later, the boy had his onions and tulips packaged and given to him in a bag. "You're sure it's all right not to pay for these?" he queried as Yamanaka handed the bag to him.

"Never mind that. It's the least I can do to make up for your experience tonight," said Yamanaka. "Just hurry on home, is what you do. Sometimes those guys like to stalk the streets on their motorbikes, and they terrorize civilians for the heck of it."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." The youth hoisted the bag into a comfortable position under his arm, while slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder with his free hand. "Well, see you around!" And then he walked off up the sidewalk and was gone.

Ino and her father stood at the door, waving after the boy, and then turned to head back inside the store to clean up and close up—and only then did it click in either one's mind. "Hey, wait a minute…we never asked that guy his name, did we?" Ino exclaimed.

"Hmm…I suppose we didn't," Yamanaka admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "Oh, well, no biggie."

Ino looked out into the night worriedly. "I hope he'll be okay…with those guys out there…"


The young man trekked along the street, with his two burdens in hand. The throbbing from the blow Ino had landed on his head earlier had since subsided to little more than a memory; the cool night air worked wonders on one's health, without a doubt. Adjusting the duffel bag's string on his shoulder, he increased his pace a bit, not wanting to be any later than he already was to get to his destination.

The glare of headlights shining from behind him and the noise of motorcycle engines caught his attention. As he turned to look back, he beheld several bikers approaching him…then seconds later several of them shot past him, only to do U-turns and come again, now circling him.

"Well, well, well! Fancy meeting you again so soon, kid! I guess this really is a small world!"

He recognized Zaku's voice amidst the laughter of the bikers, and soon enough was able to pinpoint him, Kin and Dosu among the lot. "Hey, cutie-pie," Kin called to him, smirking and licking her lips. "Did you miss us?"

Dosu stopped his bike, as did the others, and alighted from his ride. "This must not be your lucky day, fella," he remarked. "We all came out because we wanted to have a little fun after conducting business today…and look who we find—none other than you. Maybe there can be a mix of business and pleasure, after all, like they always say…" and his cronies snickered and sneered at their target.

The boy adjusted his duffel bag's string again. "Okay, guys, can I ask you something?"

"What's that?" Dosu wondered aloud, cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, you guys sure know how to throw your weight around—you proved that with the old guy earlier this evening. But if it's not too much trouble, could you maybe find somebody else to start your fun with tonight and let me go home?" the youth asked him. "I mean, I don't have any beef with you, and you guys don't have any grudge against me. And why waste your energy on little ol' me when you've already proved you can push me around any time you want, right?"

Dosu smirked. "Trying to go for the easy way out, are you? Well, we might consider giving you a break…in fact, we'll give you a break for the next three days if we should see you…on one condition. You have to play a game with us first, right here and now."

The boy beheld the faces of the bikers as their snickers grew louder. "A game?"

Zaku and Kin got off their shared bike and approached Dosu and the boy. "This is a game we happen to like a lot," Zaku chuckled. "The rules are, we beat on you for ten minutes, and if you can take it without crying, you win. If you cry out, we get to beat on you for another ten minutes for every cry you give."

"And if I cry out, when do you stop beating on me?" the boy asked.

"When we get bored." Zaku grinned sadistically.

"Don't worry, babe, we'll be gentle…during our warm-up," said Kin, and this drew more chuckles from the other bikers.

In one sudden movement, Dosu slapped the youth's grocery bag out of his hand, scattering tulips and onions to the ground. "Walking with onions and flowers? As if you weren't so much of a sissy already," he taunted. "Now…you just try and survive, got it?"


The red-haired woman sat at the dining table, eyeing the clock on the wall in the adjoining kitchen. "Where is that boy? He should have gotten here by now," she mumbled.

Getting up, she went to the stove and opened its oven, checking a covered bowl she'd placed there. "I'll have to reheat this…how bothersome…" she grunted.

The noise of the front door suddenly opening and shutting caught her attention. "I'm here, Mom!" she heard a familiar voice cry out, and then a moment later its owner came in.

The woman immediately turned on him. "Uzumaki Naruto! I expected you here two hours ago! Your dinner's gone cold…" Her voice trailed off as she beheld his appearance. "Goodness…what happened to you?"

She had good reason to ask—Naruto's face was bruised, his hair was messed up and full of dirt, his clothes were dusty and dirty and his jacket sported spots of blood, and his fingers and knuckles bore scrapes. The grocery bag he carried appeared to have been crushed, and the flowers peeking out from the top of the bag had definitely seen better days. The duffel bag he held in one hand had dirt and grime all over it. Yet Naruto himself merely grinned in spite of all this, as though none of it even existed. "Hey, Kushina!" he greeted her.

"Don't 'Kushina' me, young man! It's Mom, or Mama, or Mother, or something similar!" Kushina snapped, walking up to him and grabbing him around the neck in a tight arm-lock. "Have you been fighting again? I keep telling you, boy, walk away from trouble if you can! You don't want to have to endure this kind of thing all the time, do you?"

"Hey, it's not like I go actively looking for trouble, old hag!" Naruto snapped, struggling to get out of his mother's grip. "It was a whole gang of punks—they're the ones who started it! I couldn't exactly run away, or anything!"

Kushina sighed and released her son. "Honestly, the number of times people have attacked you…it's like you've got a sign on your back saying 'Come Pick On Me.'" Then, on impulse, she turned him around and inspected his back. "Oh, wait, I guess not—it's just me."

"Ha, ha, very funny," Naruto growled.

"Well…at the very least, you got here in one piece. For that, I can be grateful," said Kushina, speaking more seriously now. "And you got tulips for me?" she added, eyeing the grocery bag.

"Yeah…and some onions too…" Naruto looked ruefully at the bag. "Those same guys who attacked me did some damage to them, too. Sorry about that."

"Eh, well, give it here. I'm sure I can salvage them somehow." Kushina took the grocery bag from Naruto. "Go clean yourself up. I'll heat up the ramen I prepared for you."

"Ramen?" Naruto was instantly attentive.

"I spent quite a bit of time making it for you, since I knew you were coming today," Kushina smiled at him. "How does beef ramen with extra noodles and onions sound?"

"Sounds great after all I've had to put up with today!" Naruto gave his mother a quick hug. "Thanks, Mom! You're the best!" And then he hurried off to the shower, while Kushina watched his departure with the smile still on her face.


The gangsters lay all about the street, most of them bloodied and battered, some loathing to move due to the twisted and broken limbs and bones they had. Several had extremely battered faces, their blood seeping into the concrete where they lay. All around them, several of their motorcycles lay scattered about, some wrecked into unrecognizable scrap metal. Those who were conscious were just barely breathing, a few coughing up sickening mixtures of blood and bile as they held their tender midsections. One or two had their arms bent at impossible angles, while others were gingerly trying to touch their twisted and swollen ankles and knees.

Zaku was unconscious, sporting a still-bleeding wound to his head, more blood coming from his nose and mouth, and his right leg bent the wrong way altogether. Kin was still conscious, but her face was horribly scraped, her left arm lying uselessly on the ground as she tried to move her body, and pain wracked her back due to having had her spine slammed into. Dosu's facial bandages were soaked in blood, his fingers bent at all manner of angles, and he coughed and sputtered in anguish even as the mangled remains of what used to be his motorcycle lay on top of his torso.

"Damn…damn…that guy…" Kin managed to speak out of bloodied lips, wincing for the pain speaking caused her. "What…the hell…was he…?"

Just then, the noise of rapidly-approaching sirens caught their ears…then police cars pulled up near the gangsters…then numerous uniformed cops were picking up those who could be picked up, while others were radioing the dispatcher for additional help.


The next morning…

"Good morning, Konoha Town! It's 8:00, and time for your daily dose of 'Words of the Mighty Guy' with your host, yours truly, Maito Guy!" the radio announcer's voice blared on the bus for all the passengers to hear. "Now, heading the list of local interest items—as you would've heard on the news, just last evening the police came across a number of gangsters, seventeen to be exact, all looking like a train had run them over, and in total all seventeen were admitted to hospital in serious condition. To make it even more interesting, all seventeen are supposedly members of that gang that's run by the former Kyuushingai member, Mizuki, who's been causing all sorts of chaos since he arrived in town three months ago."

Ino Yamanaka listened to the announcer's speech with wide eyes, even as she unconsciously clutched her schoolbag closer to her.


"…now, I don't know what happened, and apparently neither does anybody in the news media, since the cops are being pretty tight-lipped at this time," Maito Guy continued his commentary on the radio. "But this raises all sorts of interesting questions that I'm pretty sure you, the public, will want answered. Is there a new gang in town that's setting up shop and wants to dethrone Mizuki? Do these people, whoever they are, have enough firepower to take on a former member of the Nine Terrors? And what about the police—they've proven inefficient in stopping Mizuki and his gang already, so how are they going to be able to handle the gang war that's bound to happen from last night's brawl?"

The teal-haired man reached over and shut off the radio sitting on the bedside table. "So that explains why Dosu and his little patrol didn't report in last night or answer my calls," the man growled. "So somebody was ballsy enough to pick a fight with my gang? Well…now they're going to have to deal with me directly. Nobody picks a fight with Mizuki and lives to brag about it!"




NEON MAJESTIC: And here's the first chapter of my brand-new story, Kitsune no Ken. This takes the characters from the Naruto universe and puts them in a whole different setting, with no magical jutsu and no tailed beasts…so what, then, does it entail? Simply put, it's intended to take place in a high school alternate universe (somewhat similar to the Naruto Shippuden special, "Shippu! Konoha Gakuen Den"), but it'll be largely influenced by other anime/manga series from my experience, including and especially Rurouni Kenshin and Kenichi: The Mightiest Disciple; therefore, expect there to be plenty of action sequences and character development as time goes by!

And I know I'm going to get some flak from readers who had previously been reading my DCAU fanfics "Velocity" and "The Flash: 2055," which were ended without proper resolution. I have put an end to both due to personal convictions, and will write a wrap-up chapter for "Velocity" just as I did for "2055." Hopefully I may not have to do the same with this one, but if it comes to that I'll let you know and put down the notes on what I intended for this fic to come to.

Chapter 2 will soon commence! Stay tuned!

EDIT: Removed references to Mizuki sporting tattoos due to certain recent personal convictions.