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Two young travelers panted and looked in awe at the large, bustling city before them. The older of the two, who looked around 18, grabbed the other’s hand and dragged them into the city. “Isn’t it amazing? It’s just as great as I told you it would be, isn’t it?” the teen asked, excitedly pulling the child, a preteen, around from stall to stall. The younger male nodded, staring shyly at the people around them.
“Nii-san? Why are all these people wearing kimonos? It’s not a festival is it?” The younger boy clutched the elder’s sleeve tightly, trying to hide. The older boy laughed and patted the child’s head.
“This is Kyoto! Everyday is a festival!” he announced proudly, the younger boy nodded vigorously, taking in every word. A merchant spun the child around to face him.
“Hey there Girly, first time in the city?” The merchant wondered, grinning a salesman’s grin at the small boy. The teen narrowed his eyes and yanked his companion from the man’s grip.
“Whatever you’re selling, we ain’t buying.” He took the astonished boy’s hand and dragged him along behind him.
“I-do I look like a girl?” the boy asked, blushing with embarrassment. The teen sighed and scratched his spiky head of hair.
“I suppose so, you just have to wait a few more years…You’ll be taller and more muscular than every guy here in Kyoto!” the boy grinned at the older male before stumbling on a pebbly road. The adolescent laughed and pulled him up.
They had wandered through the city for an hour before they came upon a large building with a sign in front reading; ‘Shinta Dojo, Home of of Tenshi-ryu’. From outside you could hear men yelling and wood striking wood. The boy stared up at the teen then at the dojo. “What is that place Nii-san? A place for legal fighting?” He cocked his head to the side, pondering what a dojo was. The young adult snickered then burst out laughing.
“Man, I need to take you out more, don’t I?” He patted the child on the head and nodded. “Yes…men train in the ways of swordsmanship there. Do you want to take a look inside?” The smaller male nodded and they walked into the dojo, removing their sandals as they walked. A man in his early thirties walked over to them and smiled. Gasping, the small boy bowed deeply to the man while the teen smiled back.
“What are you kids doing here?” The man asked, looking from one boy to the other. The preteen lifted his head to answer but his companion answered first.
“My friend wanted to see what a dojo was like. He’s never seen one before. We’re from the countryside.” The man snorted and rolled his eyes before replying.
“Well, ya got to see it, right kid? Now if you don’t mind. You’ve interrupted training. Get out.” The teen sighed and scratched his head. He looked at his child companion and his eyes widened.
The young boy was watching the fighting men with excitement, he shifted his weight from one leg to the other and his hands trembled. The adolescent grabbed the boy’s shoulder and pushed him backwards while mouthing no to him. The child’s eyes were fixed on the crashing shinai and saw nothing else. He pulled the teen’s hand from his shoulder and walked up to the man who was waiting impatiently for them to leave. “Let me fight here.” He said bluntly, with none of his normal shyness. The man scoffed and turned towards the fighters. “Please!” the kid cried and his companion yanked him backwards, hissing foul words at him the entire time. “Let go Nii-san! I wanna see if a dojo can stand up to your teachings!” At that it went silent in the dojo and the man they had been talking to spun around quickly and pulled the boy off his feet, holding the neck of his shirt.
“Are you mocking Shinta-sama’s teachings, brat?” He growled angrily at the boy. The child shrugged, keeping a calm demeanor, eyes once again fixed on the fighters.
“No, I was simply saying I wanted to see if this Tenshi-ryu stands up against the style my Nii-san taught me.” He grinned innocently at the older man whose arm was now shaking. He dropped him and glared at the teenager.
“You teach him to talk like that?” he asked coldly. The teen shook his head and looked at the boy angrily.
“No…but I suppose you would take his request if I said I did? He doesn’t have much experience in a real fight. There’s only so much that can be taught. Besides…he would just come back without me if you turned him down now.” He sighed and grabbed the kid who was nodding happily.
The, now really upset, man took a deep breath and walked to the back of the dojo and into a small side room. A few minutes later a man in his early forties walked out towards the two young males. Everyone in the dojo bowed as he passed. He stood in front of the boys and smiled kindly at them. “You are the one who wishes to test the style of tenshi-ryu?” he asked the teen. The young man shook his head and pointed towards the child beside him.
“No, my friend would, truthfully I would rather he not, but I’d like to be here with him.” The dojo master nodded and his eyes drifted slowly to the boy.
“How old are you? Seven?” The boy looked at the ground, uncomfortable under the intense gaze.
“No, I’m eight. Almost nine.”
“Then you are old enough to understand the ways of the sword. I’ll give you permission to fight up against my students. Would you care to see how many you can best in a duel?” The child nodded his head eagerly and the man smiled kindly at him. He motioned to a young man who came forward with a shinai. “You don’t mind using shinai do you?” The young boy shook his head and clutched the practice sword.
He stepped out into the center of the dojo, waiting for his first opponent to appear before him. Meanwhile the teen was led across the room to sit beside the master, apparently Shinta, who was sitting on a mat, watching the young boy. A man who looked to be about twenty walked across the mat towards the boy and the teen smiled at the older man.
“How about we make this more interesting old man.” The teen said calmly, watching his friend with a careful eye. Shinta looked inquiringly at the adolescent.
“How so?” The young man grinned and jabbed his thumb at the wall above them.
“That sword was crafted by the legendary Shingoku-sama, am I correct?”
A sword was adorned elegantly on the wall. It’s sheathe was pure black, glossy with being shined daily. Near the tip was a small gold pressed flame. “Yes, you have quite an eye for valuables for one so young.” The boy chuckled after hearing this remark and pulled his side pack into his lap.
“It just so happens that I also have one of his words.” After his hands searched through the contents of the bag they re-emerged with a wakizashi. It was also black, with a small flame like symbol near the tip. The dojo owner’s eyes widened with delight and a grin grew on his face.
“Are you suggesting we bet these precious swords?”
“Yes, if my little friend over there defeats all your students, then we get your sword. On the other hand though, if he is defeated by one of your men then we hand our sword over to you.”
“Alright, although I have to admit I feel a little guilty for taking something so important from mere children.” The teen stared at the man oddly, almost as if to say ‘Are you sane?’
‘I wouldn’t bet such a precious treasure if I didn’t believe we had a chance losing. I am not a fool.
Meanwhile, in the center of the dojo the small boy and the adult were getting ready to start. They bowed to each other, making sure they were gripping their shinai the correct way. A referee stood in between them, raised his hands and quickly backed out of the fighting space.
As soon as he was out of sight the adult rushed towards the small boy, sword raised. The child sighed and also raised his sword, although only until it reached his face. Shinta and the teen watched, the old man’s eyes wide with wonder.
The man sliced toward the boy’s legs. Smirking, the child sidestepped the rush and in a show of elegance swayed the sword behind him, slamming it into his opposer’s back. The man’s eyes bulged and his sword clattered to the ground. The man followed its path.
There was a gasp between all the watchers and Shinta rose from his mat. The teen pulled him back down to his knees and shook his head slightly. The young boy turned and smiled innocently at his friend. The older boy flashed a quick thumbs up sign to him before another man ran headfirst towards the child. His sword hung loosely from his hands, close to the ground. Closing his eyes, the boy stepped back and waited. The man reached him quickly and he flipped over the man nimbly, touching his neck gently. Coughing, the man fell to the ground.
As the next opponent stepped towards the boy Shinta glared at his fellow spectator. “You knew he would win.”
“You underestimated him. I warned you.” The teen replied, leaning back to watch the fight.
The older man cursed softly and watched as more men fell at the hands of the small child. Few could touch the child and even fewer could brush the tip of their wooden blade to his face. A devilish grin slowly came upon the boy’s face as he defeated each opponent.
The teenager whistled happily and said “Seems like we’re gonna get that sword.” Shinta clenched his fists tightly and veins popped on his forehead. Once another two men fell he whispered quietly,
“What style was he taught?”
The young man thought for a moment before replying. “Well, it doesn’t have an official name. It’s a style crafted for him, but if I had to put a name to it, it would be Kira-ryu.”
“Ki-Kira-ryu!? As in killing style?!”
The adolescent nodded, his eyes fixated on his small friend and his sword. It was an elegant style, leaving no movement wasted.
The best student in the dojo stepped forward, his face expressing nothing. The young boy stared cautiously at the man, calculating his every motion, but still smiling broadly. The man took a deep breath and appeared behind the child. The boy twirled around quickly and gasped as the shianai hit him in the side. As the boy wiped the side of his mouth the man chuckled.
The kid’s smile completely disappeared, not only from his mouth but his eyes as well, and was replaced with a stern look of determination. He quickly moved behind his opponent and slashed at the man’s shoulder. The student grimaced as the weapon made contact despite his block.
The boy’s frown increased and he moved his right leg behind his left, changing his balance completely. He switched his shinai from his right hand to his left as well, lifting the sword above his head in execution style.
The man smiled wryly and walked until he was right outside the child’s weapon zone. He then turned his wrist and tried to hit the kid in the ribs again. In that instant of movement the boy turned abruptly and lowered his sword so it rammed into the man’s ribs.
Gasping, the student fell to the ground and glared at the child who had turned to bow at the dojo master and his friend. The older boy beckoned him over with a flip of his arm and the child happily trotted over, waiting to be praised.
Shinta stood slowly and warily looked from one small male to the other. The teenager looked expectantly towards him. “He won fairly, Shinta-san. Now please complete your part of the deal.”
Grumbling Shinta took the beautiful sword from the wall. “You must be tired now, how about having some tea with this old man?” Shinta asked politely.
The boys looked at each other and agreed. They were led into an adjoining room and watched the door close behind them. Shinta still hadn’t released the sword and dropped its sheathe to the tatami mat.
“Excuse me for this children, but our dojo is well known…we can’t let the fact that we lost to mere children” he snarled, “get out. Now rest in pea-“ Before he finished speaking blood splattered across the room. Shinta’s head rolled across the ground and the child replaced the sword he now held to it’s sheathe.
“Nasty old man.” The teen said disgustedly before kicking the head away from him. “We should get going I suppose, sad really…I would have loved some tea, wouldn’t you Akira?” The killer beside him nodded and replied in a sorrowful tone.
“Sorry Nii-san, I just couldn’t let him touch you.”
“It’s alright…now that you’ve mastered the first level of Kira-ryu you really should start calling me Sensei, it sounds cooler.” The young boy nodded vigorously and opened the window beside them. Smiling, the teen grabbed the sacred sword from the blood stained floor before leaping nimbly out the window.
- by BrokenHeir |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 05/16/2009 |
- Skip
Comments (2 Comments)
- Cirque du Sang - 07/05/2009
- Very good story. Looking forward to a chapter three. ^^
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