Tinker

As the smoke began to clear I stifled a dry, burning cough.  The stink of burnt wood and worse things drifted around.  Somewhere on my left a man let out a low injured moan that trailed off into a pool of draining life.  Step-by-careful-step I moved over the shattered sidewalk of Washington Street.

"This," a voice behind me began, "would be so much easier if you would just die.  But no, like your father and grand-father you fight.  You persist.  You refuse. Why?"

I knew that voice.  We had never met.  I had never seen him.  But still somehow I knew who spoke.  "Ochiru shibō saisama, I presume?"  Like a compulsion, I turned towards that voice.  I didn't expect to see him but I turned anyways.   

He stood confident in his full battle armor and while he made no attempt at concealment I could feel the ninja rhino chi of his clan moving around me.  

"Indeed," he confirmed.