The ship's deck was clean and the sun radiated off it like a glossy mirror, the sea frolicking the boat from side to side. The uniform on my body was hanging, a size too large, and the sailors' cap on my head made me look even more comical. The scabbard never left my side though, always there hanging, resting against my leg, carrying its precious load, handed down through every generation of the Shimotsuki family. My name is Ryusaki Shimotsuki, Warrant Officer in the 72nd Marines. Despite my young age, I was able to rise to the top position in the infantry division of the Marines. But it's been 4 years since my last promotion, I work as the fourth in command on this ship, and I report directly to the Commander, the highest authority on this ship, above me were two ensigns and a lieutenant commander. I had to make sure the cadets were behaving and completing the tasks, target practice was overseen by me and an ensign. Everyone took part in sparring though, with weapons of their choice, except for me, I hadn't taken part since I first arrived in this division. 

The Mess hall was quite a mess, all the tables were arranged in a ring, and spectators, mostly cadets, sat on these with wild grins, waiting to see the bursts of power they could hopefully achieve one day. And after the Commander had dropped around 50 of the infantry, things started to get a bit dull, as I attempted to sneak out back to bed, I was stopped in my tracks by a booming voice, "Oi oi, Ryusaki you never fight with us!" I turned to see the commander looking at me with a hard stare, "Fight me, maybe we will see some bit of worth in you to keep you on this ship!" some cadets chuckled but were stifled by my glance.

I vaulted neatly over the table in front of me and trudged to the center of the well-lit ring in which the commander waited for me. I dropped my two hands into the deep dark chasm that was my pockets and this invoked a few low murmurs and a chuckle from the commander, "So you're not even using your sword, looks like you want to get squashed grararararararara!" I merely glanced at him knowingly. 

He charged hands out wide aiming for my shoulders, the blade was rattling in my scabbard, and the thirst for blood made it feral, as was I, side-stepping him, I drew the sword, unleashing it from its forced slumber, conjuring flames, enveloping my body, the cursed power of the Nidai Kitetsu fled through my veins, and with a single slash the captain's uniform was ripped, and blood squirted out at a steady pace at his wound, which was also signed by the blades flame, "You think you can hurt me brat!" shouted the stupid old commander.

I merely grunted, chuckled, and beckoned him forward with my fingers, yet again he charged me swinging wildly, this time I noticed a slight blackish hue on his hands, whatever little observation I had, told me this was armament, I stepped under his punch and used the little reserves of haki had to just about coat the tip of my blade, slashing more blood out of the commander's body. He fell to the ground. 

I sheathed my blade, looked at the second in command, and said, "he's going to need a month or so in bed from the cursed flames, until then you should probably take over!" I couldn't help but laugh inside my mind looking at the awestruck expressions of my colleagues, yet i kept a straight face.