The Solace of Apathy

[Deleted]

Kemurisen (Smoke Roast)
Rank: "D

[/u]", "C", "B", "A", "S"
Skill: NinJutsu
Effect: User creates smoke out of the heat waves that is produced in hot areas.
Special: "Handseals"
Drawback: Works only in hot areas that creates mass amounts of heat.
Description: User forms the needed handseals and is able to convert actual heat into smoke in order to use for future techniques. When the user first learns this technique they are able to call smoke within the distance of 5 meters radius. When the user learns the "C" rank version of this technique the distance increases to 10 meters radius. When the user learns the "B" rank version of this technique the distance increases to 20 meters radius. When the user learns the "A" rank version of this technique the distance increases to 40 meters radius. When the user learns the "S" rank version of this technique the distance increases to 80 meters radius.
Limit: Must be a member of the Kasutā clan. Must know Kemuritsuuwa (Smoke Calling)[/blockquote]

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A soldier's life was one of solace. This, Kenta knew all too well. Even if comrades stood at your side, you were alone. Your life was in your own hands, your survival dependent on yourself. He had learned this when a person he had considered a friend in his childhood had shoved him in front of their trainer's sword when he was only fourteen. It would have been a killing blow, too, if Kenta was not as fast with the knife as he was. He had loathed and reviled that boy till the day when they turned fifteen, and were forced to fight one of their peers in a fight to the finish; Kenta had specifically chosen the boy, and had felt very little as his dagger bit deep into his clan-mate's neck, and began to spew the lifeblood from his veins. You had to feel nothing, he had been told.

It was the only way to survive.

Now, distanced from his dead clan and surrounded by a more communal hierarchy, some things had come to his attention that had caused him to grow cynical of such ultimatums; but there was still a deep part of him, below the cheery smile he usually wore, the casual demeanour with which he held himself; a vile, unfeeling reaper that surfaced in an instant, not exactly replacing the soldier's persona, but simply showing it on a deeper level. The Kasuta knew this, as he blew a drawn-out geyser of ash into the atmosphere about him; and he knew that he would always know this, and it would always be truth, no matter what or who else happened upon him.

His slump, today, was at the base of a lone apple tree, quite apart from it's rigorously disciplined peers, which stood condescendingly in a tight-knit orchard behind the soldier. He had, of course, naturally gravitated towards the lonesome exception, who felt far more receptive to his presence than the conformed crop. Kenta had been here before; had engaged his younger brother in a mock-up battle in which he had witnessed, for the first time, his sibling's... instability, below even his nervousness. It was roughly the same time of day, but this time around, the soldier was the only presence to grace the area, at least as far as he could tell.

The day was, again, quite warm; summer, having set in, had begun to bake away the tall grass till shades of brown had tinted the entire clearing, and it was no longer standing in such irritatingly tall splendor. A relatively bare patch of earth surrounded the apple tree, its roots twining through the dirt and denying the long verdure access to Kenta's seat at the trunk's base. His arms were placed behind his head, and he was gazing off into the blue sky with the sun dancing mottled patterns of light across his form through the overhanging leaves. In a long sigh he exhaled a second gust of smoke through his teeth, the heat expulsion blowing back into his face slightly with a sudden gust of wispy easterly breeze. Disturbed, the soldier slid up the trunk, blinking, and waved a hand in front of his face till the smog cleared.

Now sitting up properly, the soldier sighed, and decided he could not be bothered to slide back down the rough wood, and sighed forlornly at the glorious overhead sky, wondering at such travesties of the world, and how that endless blue could just sit there as they occurred. Kenta was at least glad for his shade, though the afternoon was slowly filching that from him as well, inch by inch. It was the heat, then, that inspired him.

The soldier's presence, especially when stagnated, always brought with it some subtle aroma of ash, and this was no exception; the ground, glared at with incessant sunlight over this past week or so, so the air was quite stifling already; but the soldier intended to make it far more so. Within his being, there had always been a great affinity for flame, for it had evolved naturally from his persona... or perhaps vice versa. The sudden onrush of death, or, in less frequent cases, that which killed far more slowly, but more ruthlessly. The soldier let his eyelids drop. He let the figurative, inner heat rise through his body, seeming, inside his figure, to flood him with a comfortable warm, slightly overriding outside influence, till it dominated his sense, and occupied his mind, spirit and form.

It was then that the soldier lifted his hands off the bare earth to clasp them together, in order to perform a barrage of zodiac hand-seals. The first was slow, almost meditative, as though an idea was being pieced together in unison with it, but through the six, they sped up, becoming a more coherent and effortless string, which ended abruptly upon the ram hand-seal; the signals had flared his chakra to new, more tangible extremes, and now the heat inside him was uncomfortable; it pushed at his edges, pulsating at his being till he wanted to let it loose, and it was only when the sequence was complete was the energy controlled and yet potent enough to expel from the metaphorical pores of Kenta's spirit, seeping very real heat into the atmosphere about him, baking the air in a cloud of pseudo-katon chakra that was a concoction that had been taught to him at a young age by a sect of the Hawo Azami to potentially combat Kusagakure's plant-life-based ninjutsu, secrets they adopted from the Kasuta clan.

The insipid, heat-based energy baked the earth without mercy, spreading about it, straining it to its greatest capacity, positively singing away the dirt; Kenta had only to concentrate the sort of ruthless energy he projected when given an order, and the heat continued to flow, continued to clog the atmosphere, till the air was positively sweltering. Soon, it was prepared for an experimental and somewhat ludicrous stage that the Kasuta wanted to probe at, and was interested to see if it worked. His golden eyes grew wider at the sudden influx of power he projected into his chakra through his will, then.

The command caused the heat to, with even more cruelty, attack the very air itself, searing it till and all it passed with impossible force. The drifting ash that already clogged the air was soon burnt into clouds of smoke anew, and the haze about the soldier seemed to grow thicker as he focused this intense power... till it actually burnt the air. The heat of the day was being harvested by the Ikebana's fire chakra into acrid smog that began to drift up from nothingness... Till it was positively enveloping the soldier at his seat.

He wafted a single hand through the smoke, and watched as it lazily parted from his limb with an idle amusement. Combat possibilities had expanded, that was for damn sure.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/font][/size]