Memoirs of a Drunken Ninja

Boshudo sat cross legged at the center of the room, his eyes closed and his expression calm.

Relaxed.

A man entered, his face creased with amusement. "So here I find you, training as always."

Irritated at interruption.

Boshudo's eyes opened, and they were both bleary. "Test me if you dare, Qien. I shall make an example of you."

The older man's smile widened, impossibly enough.

"Very well. I challenge you Boshudo."

The cross legged man got to his feet, stumbling slightly before regaining his balance. He looked at Qien for a moment with his eyes unfocused.

Wistful with thoughts of soft bed.

"Which one of you shall I defeat first, eh?"

Qien looked to either side of himself, puzzled. Then, comprehension dawned in his twinkling grey eyes.

"I believe you are seeing double. Perhaps we should save this for another time."

Rage.

Boshudo's voice rose to a slurred yell as he stumbled forward.

"I shall not be spoken to in such a manner! I am the master of-"

He froze, his fist merely inches from Qien's jaw. The older man had not moved.

"Is there a problem, Boshudo?"

"Wh-what am I the master of, again?"

"You are a ninja, I believe, so one would presume Ninjitsu. However, I may point out that the consumption of alcohol is against the code followed most strictly by all true ninja, therefore I must question whether or not that is where your mastery truly lies."

Muddled comprehension.

"Wait-"

Rage.

"True ninja? The hell do you mean, true ninja? As if to say I'm not one of them?"

Qien ran a hand through his iron grey hair, suppressing a sigh.

"You were informed by the Brotherhood of Ninja that you are no longer counted among them. They have changed the locks at their headquarters, and have security patrolling the building to ensure that you are not permitted within twenty feet of the entrance."

Boshudo watched him for a moment, then turned his head and belched loudly.

"What's your point, eh? Stop talkin' in riddles old man."

Qien was quickly losing his patience, but resisted the urge to strike the man. He was a dangerous man, after all. And being drunk might not make him any easier to handle.

"I am saying, you are no longer a ninja. You are simply a drunk."

He sniffed, wrinkling his nose with distaste.

"And you could use a shower."

Rage.

~~~

**A work in progress, I'm thinking of going somewhere pretty interesting with this but only time will tell**