Iori felt like he was a fair man, treating kindness with kindness and disrespect with extreme face slapping. He did try, he really did, to keep his trolling nature in check but it seems that centuries of isolation had somewhat weaken his control.
Earlier this morning, he had gotten up with the rising sun and decided to do something he hadn't done in years. So he found a nearby lake and relaxed under a tree with a make shift fishing pole in hand. It hadn't taken much, only a thin pulse of Ki that quickly locked in on the large body of water filled with life.
And there he laid, back against a tree, relaxing and without any worries in the world. He had no classes to teach and Yasaka was out early on one of her meetings, so there was truly nothing to do. His peace was broken when he sensed himself being surrounded by nearly 20 different Ki signatures that probably thought they were properly hidden from his sight. True enough.
These signatures felt somewhat familiar in a way. Not like he knew them individually but as though their flavor of Ki was similar. It was like the scent of earthy loam. Something that was well attuned with the world around them.
It only took a moment for him to recognize the 'scent'.
'Riko?' He thought, tasting their signatures,' Ah Nekomatas..'
A race of Yokai who were one and all, extreme talents in Senjutsu. Their simply weren't many who were naturally better than they were. Honestly, he figure they were also primarily responsible with the ever so popular catgirl. Given their appearance of just being normal humans but with cat tails, ears and eyes.
Normally, most human Senjutsu Practitioners would be hard pressed to fight one let alone almost two dozen. Not only did they have better control over Ki, but with so many it would be nearly impossible to get any energy out of the air itself. He figured that with such a formation, their goal was to capture him.
It was a good plan. Without ambient Ki, human Practitioners were only normal humans that could only fruitlessly fight against energy empowered Yokai who were already physically stronger than they were to begin with. Well that is true for modern Senjutsu.
Without paying them any heed, Iori continued fishing. He figured they would at least try to speak to him first before doing anything rash and this was his day off, so deciding to squeeze every bit of time he could sounded like a good idea.
That's how he spent the next couple of hours as the sun slowly rose higher into the sky, catching fish, healing them, before tossing them back to their natural environment. All while, he thoroughly enjoyed how anxious the hiding Yokai were growing. They had gotten closer and farther, trying and failing to figure out the range in which he could sense their Ki.
His pristine kimino slightly waved in the breeze as he sat under a tree, Ki leaking out to nourish the tree in thanks.
"Master Yamato."
A voice said from behind him and a smile threatened to break across his face.
'They couldn't wait any longer, huh?' He decided to mess them a bit, they had come looking for him hostile intent after all. The reason didn't matter, no one came looking for someone else with rope at hand with good intentions.
"You've finally decided to speak to me?" Iori asked, throwing out another freshly healed fish back into the lake. He could feel them flinch at his words, and their tails flickering quicker in the air. "Tell you other companions that they don't need to feel so shy."
That caused all 20 of his stalkers to pause in unison, a spike of dread filling them as they were called out so casually. But even still, none of them stepped out of the greenery. Staying still as they circulated their technique that caused the eye to slide away.
"We are from the Nekomata Clan." The spokesman tried to get back on topic," And our elders have heard of your Senjutsu prowess and wish to extend an invitation to their compound."
'Yeah right,' He snorted internally,' 'Invitation'. Is that how they send them out nowadays?'
"As you can see young one," Iori enjoyed sensing the man bristle at his dismissive tone," I am just an old man enjoying his retirement."
"Master Yamato," He could almost hear the disbelief in the cat man's voice," Our elders have expressed that they wish to exchange techniques of the Nekomata for your knowledge. You will not be cheated. And will receive the full support from the clan if you come with us."
"I do not repeat myself. I will treat this as nothing more than youthful folly."
The immortal knew he purposefully egging them on but he honestly couldn't help himself. This wasn't the first time people have tried to kidnap him, that particular Devil was very persistent in getting him to join their Peerage. And honestly, there was literally nothing these kittens could do to him. Their strength wasn't anywhere enough to force him to agree to anything.
"Please Master Yamato," The man said darkly, taking a step forward," Do not turn down this gracious offer from our elders. This will surely benefit you just as much as it benefit the clan. If not more as you would become a guest of our Clan. And possibly receive an elder position of your own."
But instead of denying the man again, Iori snapped back the fishing pole and out came a large multi-colored fish the size of his torso. Flying through the air, it landed graciously in between his palms. It wiggled a bit but stayed still as he sent a strange of Ki coursing through it's body. The various scars and old injuries throughout were all healed, replaced by brand new flesh and vitality. Even the slightly clouded over eye of the fish was restored to it's previous functionality.
It's body suddenly tried it's best to wriggle out of the man's hold as it could suddenly see once more. Smiling slightly, he tossed the flopping and healthy fish back into the lake as it scattered away. It's large fin poking out of the surface a few times as though in thanks before sinking beneath the depths.
"You have chosen this, please do not hold this against us."
The cat man said ominously before he leapt forward, black ear shooting back and claws out stretched wide. Like that was a signal, the others all charged forward in tandem. Coming in from all sides, they used their own bodies to cut off any possible form of escape he might have. Their yellow eyes glinted under the sun, black hair poofed out in a feral way.
They all wore black kimonos without a symbol or anything besides those ears indicating their place of origin. Some wielded claws, other's blunt weapons, and more darted forward in nets in hand.