Way of the Sword

NOTES:
1. Sai - Weapons that Hiro uses, considered short weapons. Made of metal, these have been primarily designed to block against swords. It looks like a fork, with the middle prong long and the outside ones really short. The short prongs are referred to as “wings.” The middle “prong” of the sai is usually half an inch longer your forearm.When punching, the sai is held so that the long length of the sai is flush against the arm and the butt of the handle is used for hitting. Handling the sai this way gives advantage when fighting close distance because you have reinforced punches and blocks. When striking/cutting/slitting, the sai is flipped so that the handle is gripped and the long length of the sai is used. For cutting/slitting, the middle prong is used.

2. Kamae - In Karate, the term referring to “ready” stance or fighting stance. For instance, in sparring with bare hands, standing “hidari kamae” means to stand with hands up with the left foot forward. The stances taken look like this: picture standing straight with your legs shoulder with apart, now move your right leg back about two feet lengths worth, your front knee is bent and the back leg mostly straight. That is a fighting stance.

3. Bouken - Kaoru’s weapon. A wooden sword. Different from a shinai.

4. When punched in the stomach, the hit person can either fall forwards or backwards. If the punch was executed correctly, the opponent should fall forwards. If the opponent falls backwards, the technique was more of a push and was not executed properly, either lacking in power, distance, or technique. Keeping this in mind, Sano’s fighting can be more clear.

5. Bo - a long wooden pole, usually an inch or two longer than the user’s height. It’s like a staff, think almost a shower curtain but a little narrower and wooden. Hiro also uses this weapon, although not in this chapter. The bo is almost always fought by using both hands, because it gives better control and power.

CHAPTER 16

Sano’s bandaged fist neatly landed in his opponent’s gut. The man grunted and fell forward, both of his arms going around his middle. Before turning away, Sano made sure his opponent was down. Throwing a smirk towards the fallen man, Sano looked around him. The moon was bright that night, its silver light illuminating figures and throwing shadows obscured in the night. A few meters away from him, Sano could make out Kaoru and her wooden sword, pitted against a man who was fighting barehanded. A few feet away from her was Kenshin, fighting that blond man who had kidnaped Shuichi. Looking the other way, past the fallen bodies, Sano saw his Hiro fighting against the brown haired man who had also attacked them from before. A sudden noise behind him caused Sano to tear his eyes away from his lover. Turning around, he found himself facing a man with a weapon in his hand. Clenching his fists, Sano stood hidari kamae (2). With cautious brown eyes, the ex-gangster watched his new opponent with narrowed eyes. Sano’s brown eyes never looked away from the black eyes that stared back with equal intensity. Noticing the bo (5) in his opponent’s hand, Sano’s eyes narrowed even more and cracked his knuckles.

“You won’t defeat me, not with my bo skills!” yelled the owner of the black eyes. Raising the bo over his head, he charged forward. With the snap of his arms, he brought the bo down in an overhead strike, aiming for the top of Sano’s head.

Just barely, Sano dodged the blow by moving sideways. However, he felt another blow to his side. Sano fell on one knee, his right hand automatically reaching for his right side where the blow landed. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw more movement, so fast that he could barely distinct which way the mass was moving. Instinctively, Sano leapt backwards from his crouched position, the momentum allowing him to move back a few paces. The fighters paused and looked at each other. Sano resumed his fight stance, breathing heavily. While the blow that hit him did not hit his wound, it was close enough to the injured area that not even the adrenaline running in Sano’s system could mask the pain.

“Shit,” whispered Sano. While he always liked a challenge, he also knew when he was in a dangerous situation. Right now, he would definitely call this a dangerous situation. Even if he was in perfect condition, the man standing in front of him would have been challenge. With an injury, the man in front of him seemed almost impossible to beat. However, he never lost a fight, not if he could help it. The only two people ever to defeat him were Kenshin and that damn Saitou, and Sano was going to keep his loss record that way.

“Where’s your fighting spirit?” sneered the man. “Gone, probably, now that you know you can’t beat me. No one has been able to defeat Kuro!”

“Do you always like to give your name to the person who will be defeating you?” shot back Sano, grinning darkly.

Pushing off of his back foot, Sano shot forward. Anticipating Kuro to attack the side again, Sano managed to dodged the deadly weapon by ducking low. Shooting upwards from where he was crouched, Sano landed a straight blow to Kuro’s chin. As fast as he attacked, Sano drew back before Kuro could regroup.

Positioning his bo in front of him, Kuro spit at the ground. The spit blood landed on the ground, barely visible in the dark night. He gazed steadily at the man in front of him. Kuro could sense the man’s fighting spirit, a dangerous one. Because of his usage with the bo, not many dared to fight weaponless against him. Yet, despite the disadvantages, here was this man who dared to fight him. Kuro knew he had to be careful, to not let his guard down because this man was only fighting with his hands. Before the man had a chance to attack again, Kuro attacked first, this time, with a temple strike.

Sano saw the aim to the forehead coming. Knowing that his arm would break if he tired to block the weapon, Sano ducked again. He lost his footing as the temple strike was followed by a knee strike. Sano tried to move backwards, but the bo managed to strike his left leg, just underneath knee. In a slightly leg split position, Sano’s left leg gave out, causing him to fall on one knee. His left hand shot out to ground to maintain his balance.

“Dammit,” cursed Sano. Seeing Kuro coming at him with the bo raised over his head, Sano crouched again, waiting for the perfect timing. Just when Kuro was about to bring the bo down for another overhead strike, Sano dodged to the left, pushing off with right food. His right hand grabbed at the bo, holding the weapon in place. Ignoring the pain, Sano used his left leg to deliver a powerful roundhouse kick to Kuro’s head.

Kuro’s eyes widened surprise as he saw Sano dodge his attack. Trying to follow up his missed attack with a body, Kuro found that he was unable to move his weapon. Glancing at his weapon, he could see his opponent’s hold on it. Before he could twist the weapon away from the foreign grasp, Kuro felt a kick land on his head. Instantly, he felt his head snap towards the side. Before having a chance to recover, he felt another punch towards the side of his ribs. Feeling as though he was moving in slow motion, Kuro could feel his bottom two rib bones break, feeling each break and crack. In a desperate move, Kuro tried to shake the grip off his bo, while at the same time, trying to back away from his opponent. Succeeding, Kuro tried to pull himself together, to regain his composure.

The two fighters put some distance between each other, both of them already back in kamae. Their eyes never left each other, as they tried to set up the next move. A light breeze passed over the two fighters, causing the tail ends of Sano’s head band to dance in the wind. The only noise the two fighters made were gasps for air.

Kuro’s chest rose and fell rapidly, as his lungs tried to take in as much air as possible. He was covered in sweat and already his top clung to his body due to the dampness. Calm down, he told himself. Never, while working for Haruki-sama, had he fought this hard before. Usually, he job entailed him to scare Haruki-sama’s opponents or anyone he did not like. Intimidation was easy, that act Kuro could pull off half drunk and half asleep. However, this situation was new to him. He had never met an opponent as strong as this and a fight that had last this long. Feelings of uncertainty crept up to him, chilling him, along with the cooling sweat on his neck. However, to lose his calm now would be to lose the fight. That will not do. Hands clenched harder on the bo, the knuckles turning white.

Hands up, Sano tried to read his opponent. With careful planning, Sano knew that he could make his next attack the last attack. He did not have much experience fighting against a bo user in this age of the sword. However, already, he could read the movements of the bo. In fact, he could even recall the way Hiro moved with the weapon, that one time when Sano caught his lover practicing. In order for Sano to attack, he needed to be close. In order to get close, he needed to get past that wooden barrier. Grinning, Sano crouched down slightly. Before Kuro could attack, Sano made the first move.

Eyes widening, Kuro saw his opponent move. Attacking first, eh, thought Kuro. Anticipating a frontal assault, Kuro position his bo in the block position, placing the wooden pole in the center of his body, in order to protect himself. One hand was positioned so that Kuro could still see over his hand, his second hand gripping the bo lower. However, he felt no punches coming towards his way. Too late, he noticed that the opponent shifted. Kuro pulled the bo with bottom hand, swinging the weapon parallel to the ground, resulting in a side attack towards his right.

Running straight towards Kuro, Sano saw the man already in a blocking stance. Seeing the man take the bait, Sano shifted towards his left. Out of the corner of his eye, Sano could see the bo moving in Kuro’s hand. Bracing his right side for the hit, Sano did not dodge, but rather continued to attack. The sudden shift in Kuro’s stance opened the man’s right side up and Sano was not about to lose the opening because he might get hit. Always take in a hit if you can hit back harder, was Sano’s belief. With all he got, Sano rammed his right hand to Kuro’s solar plex, the reversed punch shooting out from Sano with incredible speed. As he pulled his hand back from the punch, Sano could feel the bo strike his right shoulder. Despite the sharp pain driving through his arm, Sano gather enough speed to jump back before Kuro could land a second strike. As his feet landed from his retreat, Sano saw Kuro drop his bo. The man soon followed his fallen weapon, landing on the ground with a soft thud.

“Dude, your bo skills don’t even match up to Hiro’s,” said Sano to the fallen body. He rotated his right arm in an arm circle, wincing. Still, since he could move the limb, he figured he was alright to continue. He looked around to see that about six men were scattered on the ground. Kaoru was dealing with another man and Kenshin was still fighting with the same blond man. Looking around for Hiro, Sano finally found his lover, just in time to see a flash of silver coming down towards Hiro’s head.

***

Hiro’s gi top was slit open on his right sleeve. The edges of the torn green fabric were dyed red, soaking in the blood that was slowly trickling from the wound. Sweat stain appeared on the back of the gi top, creating a small ovular dark green circle. It was times like these when Hiro wondered why he kept his hair long. Although his hair was pulled back in a half ponytail so that his hair would not get into his eyes, the red strands added to the heat rising from his body. Gritting his teeth, Hiro put up his left arm in an upper block, his elbow slightly bent. The sai resting along his forearm deflected the sword strike. Leaping sideways, Hiro dodged another strike. When he put enough distance against his opponent, he stopped moving, trying to catch his breath.

Ryuichi’s eyes glistened in the dark, the light from the moon reflecting the orbs, causing his face to look like that of an animal, a predator. He lowered his sword, holding the weapon only with his right hand. He took a stepped towards his opponent, almost dragging the sword on the ground, making noises as the blade struck some of the larger pebbles on the Ryuichi saw Hiro also take a step back.

Chuckling, Ryuichi took another step forward. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to play anymore, Mr. Red.”

Hiro frowned. Why this man kept calling him Mr. Red, Hiro did not know, but it was as if the man was teasing Hiro. As for Ryuichi’s remark, Hiro decided to remain quiet, making sure to step back to maintain the distance between himself and his opponent.

“Come on, Mr. Red,” said Ryuichi, dropping his voice to a whisper, his eyes narrowing into slits. “You wanted to play with Kumagorou, so here he is now. If you stop playing, Kumagorou will get very angry. Very angry.”

A small shudder went down Hiro’s spine. This man was just too creepy for Hiro. He had no idea who or what Kumagorou was and the man kept on talking as if he was a little kid. A very demented kid. Before Hiro could ponder more on the strangeness of his opponent, the lithe man moved. Next thing Hiro saw was the sword in the air, the blade aimed straight for his head.

Holding his sai by the handles, Hiro crossed his weapon to make a tiny ‘X’ figure and raised the sai in the air slightly above his head. The blade was caught, where the sai crossed. Unfazzled, the man continued to bring his sword down, causing the sai to lock at the wings. This was the chance that Hiro was waiting for. Turning his sai slightly outward, Hiro locked the blade with his wings.

Ryuichi frowned as he tried to pull his sword away. The blade of katana refused to pull out. Violent noise of metal against metal rose as Ryuichi furiously tried to free his sword. Using both hands, Ryuichi pulled without any results.

Grinning slightly, Hiro pushed his opponent away with the locked weapons. The force of the push caused the smaller man to stumble backwards. Before the opponent could recover, Hiro unlocked his sai and threw his right one, the sharp point aiming straight towards Ryuichi’s stomach.

As he regained his missed footing from the push, Ryuichi saw something fly towards him. His reflexes kicked in and Ryuichi leaped backwards. However, he did not move back far enough, as he saw the sai continuing to come at him. Cursing, Ryuichi used his sword to deflect the flying weapon. The sai landed on the ground. Ryuichi stared at the fallen weapon.

“Look, Kumagorou. Mr. Red is now short a weapon,” said Ryuichi. “You have one less toy to play with now.”

“Think again!” yelled Hiro.

Ryuichi focused his attention back towards Mr. Red and realized too late that the man was coming in for an attack. Eyes grew wide as Ryuichi realized that he could not dodge the attack.

When the smaller man’s attention was focused on his thrown sai, Hiro thanked the gods that his opponent fell for the fake. While the man was occupied, Hiro had pulled out a third sai from his back. Holding his left sai by the handle and holding perpendicular to the ground, Hiro used it to help aim right sai. Sliding the point of the right sai down along the length of the left one, Hiro aimed, dashed in, and stabbed.
Too late to move completely out of the way, Ryuichi took the blow to his right shoulder. Too close, Ryuichi could not use his katana to counter attack.

As soon as he went in for the attack, Hiro pulled back out. He was not foolish to stay close and give his opponent a chance to recover and attack.

Ryuichi just stood there, his head slightly hung down. His eyes focused on the ground where he could see drops of his blood. His eyes traveled upward and he could see a thin trail of blood running down the shiny blade of his katana. His gaze continued their journey upward and he could see more blood oozing down his arm. Dropping his head so that the side of his jaw touched his shoulder, he could feel cold wetness on his face. Slowly, he turned his head to Hiro.

“Shit,” murmured Hiro. Although his attack had not been fatal, he still hoped that by wounding the right shoulder, his opponent would be at a disadvantaged. However, his opponent looked anything but disadvantaged or discouraged. If possible, Hiro could swear that the man looked even more dangerous, more ready to fight.

“Kumagorou is excited,” said Ryuichi in a hysterical voice. He giggled shrilly. “I’m excited too!” As soon as the words left his mouth, Ryuichi lunged forward. Grasping the sword with both hands, this time he aimed for Mr. Red’s heart.

***

K cursed silently to himself as he squared off once more to face his opponent. Long blond bangs had escaped from his high ponytail and clung with sweat around his cheeks. Never taking his eyes off his opponent, K slowly moved towards his right, his hands holding his katana out in front of him. He watched as the infamous Battousai also moved, the small lithe form gliding silently across the ground..

Somewhere deep inside of him, K could feel his blood boil, he could almost feel the little bubbles, forming and popping. The bubbles were disappearing as he continued to face Kenshin. K snorted quietly to himself. He was wasting time here; he had only taken this job in order to face Yuki. Yet here K was, unable to defeat the Battousai, unable to face Yuki.

Well, thought K, his body tensing to move, if he could not defeat the Battousai then running away must be the next option. K lowered his head and dashed forward.

At the first sign of movement, Kenshin ran, intending to meet his opponent head on. Instead, Kenshin saw K disappear, out of the red head’s scope of vision. Kenshin turned his head slightly, just in time to see K land on the ground.

With a satisfied smirk, K landed softly after his jump over the Battousai’s head. Not even missing a beat, K ran towards the direction of where he last saw Yuki headed.

***

Yuki’s arms tightened around the precious cargo in his hold at the sight of Haruki. The blond could feel Shuichi look up from where he had been burying his face. The absence of Shuichi’s face chilled Yuki’s chest. The area which used to occupy his lover’s face was clearly marked by tear stains. Yuki could feel Shuichi trembling and Yuki wanted nothing more than to comfort Shuichi, to shield the poor boy from what Yuki felt was going to be an ugly confrontation.

“Get out of the way,” ordered Yuki, quietly.

Shuichi could not tear his eyes away from his uncle, who stood illuminated by the moonlight. The pink haired boy continue to tremble as he saw his uncle’s lips forming a wicked grin.

“If anything, I should be telling you to get out of my way,” stated Haruki, mildly. One had traveled down the length of the sharp blade. “And just where did you think you were going? With my nephew, no less.”

Yuki’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll only repeat once. Get out of my way.”

“Tsk, tsk,” said Haruki, shaking his head. “Do you always barge into someone’s home uninvited and act rude to the host? Perhaps your mother never taught you manners?”

“The same could be said about you,” said Yuki. He slowly lowered himself down to one knee and gently laid Shuichi down. Feeling Shuichi’s arms still encircled around the neck, Yuki looked down to stare into a pair of bright violet eyes, still moist from earlier tears.

“Don’t worry,” whispered Yuki. He untangled the fingers clasped behind his neck. “It won’t take long.”

“Never take your eyes off your opponent,” warned Haruki. He dashed forward, taking advantage of a preoccupied Yuki.

Without even blinking, Yuki quickly unsheathed his sword and blocked. With a flick of his wrist, Yuki was able to catch Haruki’s blade. Holding the opponent’s blade in place, Yuki quickly stood up and used the momentum to shove Haruki backwards. Taking measured steps, Yuki stood a few feet in front of Shuichi. Yuki stood with his feet shoulder width apart, his sword out in front of him.

“Don’t raise your sword if your are not prepared to die,” said Yuki, calmly. Already, he judged Haruki’s skills to only be average. Yuki knew that he was no match for Haruki and could already predict the outcome of this fight. “I wish to give you a chance to let us just leave.”

“And have witnesses as to what I have done?” asked Haruki. Again, he lunged forward. Once again, he found his attack blocked.

Haruki stepped backwards, putting distance between himself and Yuki. Surprisingly, the tall blond was good with the sword. Haruki wondered whether he could defeat Yuki. Deciding that he would need all his wits to win this match, Haruki put on a horrified expression and yelled, “Shuichi! No!”

Startled, Yuki turned to look behind him, where he had laid Shuichi down. Although he had not felt another person’s presence behind him, Yuki doubted his years of experience as a swordsman and instead, allowed his movements to be guided by his concern for Shuichi. Turning around, all he saw was Shuichi, his violet eyes unusually bright against the pale porcelain face.

Just as quickly, Yuki faced back to front, only find himself a couple swords length away from Haruki. Instinctively, Yuki dodged to the right, moving his sword swiftly as he did so. Yuki shifted backwards, already back in kamae. The sword being held out slowly dripped with blood. The same crimson liquid was making a path down from Haruki’s shoulder.

Jet black eyes narrowed and Haruki gritted his teeth, his breathing almost turning into a hiss. Damn that blond! Haruki was sure that his tactic would work. Instead, here he was, with a new shoulder injury to boot.

With an emotionless expression, Yuki just stared at the man in front of him. Haruki no longer exuded confidence, or even a threat. Instead, all Yuki saw was a man whose face turned more and more impish, almost feral looking. Yuki felt as though he was looking down upon a caged creature which knew its end.

“You cannot beat me,” said Yuki quietly.

“But I can!” yelled a voice from above.

Looking up, Yuki saw a body moving downwards toward him. Catching the glint of a blade, Yuki’s body reacted. Instead of avoiding the attack, Yuki jumped upwards to face the attack. Bodies and swords clashed midair, as the figures seemed to be suspended in the air, held by the soft evening breeze. Just as quickly, both figures landed back on the ground, almost as if the whole thing never happened.

Yet, Yuki’s gi top now sported a new tear near the collar, showing a thin line of skin. Tightening his hold on his sword, Yuki’s eyes turned cold and hard as he stared down at his new opponent.

K smiled warmly back, unshaken by the look on Yuki’s face. A hand ghosted lightly over the forehead. Fingertips moistened, no longer from the sweat, but from a newly sported cut. K licked his fingertips, clean of any hint of blood, his eyes never straying away from Yuki.

“I’ve waited so long for this.” K dropped his hand back towards the handle of his sword. “Revenge such as this is worth the wait, don’t you think?” Not receiving any answers, K was hardly surprised. Instead, K’s smile grew wider, almost snarling.

“Haruki,” K said, dropping all formalities.

From where he stood, Haruki glared at the White Devil. “What do you want?”

“Just sit and watch Haruki. I’m about to get you one step closer to completing your plan.” With that said, K moved.

Yuki forced his breathing to remain calm. He tried to change his mind set, for no longer was he fighting someone with average sword skills, but an ex-assassin, a product of war, just like himself. When he no longer saw K, Yuki tired not to panic.

Using all his senses, Yuki tried to judge from where K would attack. Hearing a soft rustling of fabric, Yuki turned around, just in time to block the blade from running through this throat. With a flick, Yuki redirected the direction of the blade and used his own sword to aim at the neck. He felt his attack being blocked and Yuki quickly moved his sword away, getting ready to defend.

The two man moved swiftly, almost too fast for the human eye. Within a blur of silver, limbs could be seen and now and then, two heads of blond hair could be distinguished. However, more often than not, it was impossible to see clearly as to who was holding which sword. It was only noises of metal against metal that served as proof that the blurring bodies were engaged in a heated battle.

Although Yuki was indeed moving fast, K’s eyes never strayed away from his opponent. He saw the sword moving towards his left. With speed equivalent to that of Yuki’s, K blocked the strike and initiated an attack of his own. Aiming for his opponent’s right side, K lunged. As soon as he saw Yuki move to block, K switched his grip, aiming instead for the left side. The sharp blade connected with its target, the same time as K felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder. Out of the corner of his eyes, K could see a blade withdrawing from his shoulder, the sharp edge dripping with blood. K immediately drew back, putting safe distance between himself and Yuki.

Rising and falling in rapid motions, Yuki’s chest showed how desperately his lungs needed air. Yuki stood with his katana out in front of him, ever ready for a speedy attack. A shock of blond hair barely stayed out of the way of his right eye, almost threatening to block Yuki’s vision. Mouth open, Yuki continued to breath rapidly, failing to calm his breathing down. With all the adrenaline pumping, Yuki barely felt the pain on his left side, where a long cut was placed just below the ribs. All Yuki could see was his opponent. Nothing was important except the opponent. That was what a battle was, what war was for him. To think of other thoughts, to see other sights, all of these were just distractions, ways in which a match was lost.

Yuki had not felt like this, had not actually had a match this serious in a long time. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he remembered that he should not kill anymore, that the war was no longer there. That there was someone important in his life now. But all these things that Yuki should have known seemed to be just a hazy fog in his mind. The only thing he could see with clarity was his opponent, who stood there with blood dripping from a shoulder wound.

K was no longer smiling. In fact, he looked a little mad, even annoyed. Never in his life had he expected Yuki to attack instead of blocking or dodging. A little part of K felt some respect for a warrior who sacrificed getting hit in order to strike. However, when the injured party was him, the respect was almost non-existent. Before the wound on his shoulder could affect his victory, his long awaited revenge, K knew that he had to end this match. He slowly moved his right foot back and leaned backwards in a slightly crouched position, placing most of his weight on his back leg. The next move would seal his victory.

Hazel eyes widened slightly at the sight K’s stance. In response, Yuki moved his right foot also back, almost parallel to where his left foot was placed. Although he knew it was dangerous, Yuki took his stance with his injured side facing K. Changing the grip on the handle of the katana, Yuki held the sword out almost right in front of his wound, going across, almost as if shielding his body. The blade was parallel to the ground, leaving his face vulnerable to an attack.

K frowned slightly at this stance. Never had he seen such a stance and he thought over as to whether or not he should use his last resort of an attack right now. His next move was his ultimate move and he knew he could only use it once due to his injury. Already, he could feel the muscles tighten on his shoulder.

“You know I changed the movement of my infamous attack after you beat me at that battlefield,” said K, in hopes of rattling Yuki’s nerves.

“I’ve never lost a battle,” was Yuki’s reply.

“You’ll lose this one. I didn’t wait this long to take me revenge only to be defeated.”

A moment of silence quickly passed by them, almost as a swift breeze. Then, without hesitation, K lunged off his back leg and pushed forward, the tip of the sword aiming for Yuki’s neck.

Yuki remained still, not moving, even after seeing K move. Hazel eyes calculated the closing distance as K moved forward. Yuki kept reminding himself that he had defeated K once, defeated this attack before. Then, when the tip of K’s blade was only a foot away, Yuki crouched down about an inch and moved forward.

Even though he saw Yuki move, K was not worried. Instead, he changed his target to Yuki’s head and struck downward. His eyes widened in surprise as the tip of his blade was blocked, knocked off course from the trail to his target. However, K was ready for this. Switching his grip on his sword, K aimed for Yuki’s throat, with all intent to slash the neck.

Yuki blocked the first attack by swinging his sword upward, almost an arc. Knowing that K was not done, Yuki continued to move his sword, almost making a complete circle, to have the blade meet K’s sword now on the other side of him. Blocking that attack, the sword continued on in its circular path, K’s throat directly in the blade’s way.

This was it. The moment in battle when he knew the fight was over, that he had won. Just seconds away from walking away from another match, alive, only to face another fight tomorrow. Just as the blade of his sword touched K’s skin, a loud yell interrupted into his thoughts.

“Yuki!” screamed Kenshin. “Stop!”

Surprised to hear the familiar voice so alarmingly loud, Yuki changed the direction of his blade that last minute. Instead of the cutting through the throat, the blade made its way downward, leaving a long cut from the throat to the middle of the chest. Quickly, Yuki pulled back, shaking, breathing hard.

K’s mind froze as he registered the fact that he had once again lost to Yuki. The move, his ultimate move, had failed K, even now. Why Yuki did not just kill him, K did not know. All he could do was stand there, as blood from his shoulder wound dripped downward to mingle with the wound on his throat and chest.

“Yuki,” said Kenshin, a little more quietly, as he reached his friend. Clear purple eyes looked straight into dilated hazel ones. “Sorry. I let K get past me. He just jumped over my head. And then, when I tried to run after him, the other men attacked me. If it wasn’t for them, I would have been here sooner.”

Yuki lowered his sword. His eyes were back to normal, a faint grin on his lips. “You showed up at the end, didn’t you?” Yuki patted Kenshin lightly on the shoulder.

Withdrawing his hand, Yuki stared at Kenshin, almost unable to stare straight into the clear purple eyes. “Thank you,” whispered Yuki. He realized how close he had been to lose himself again.

“I think there is someone waiting for you, that I do,” Kenshin said, tilting his head to the side.

Yuki looked sideways and there sat Shuichi, still on the ground. Pair of dirty hands covered the lower part of the face, allowing the only visible facial features to be a pair of red tinged eyes.

“Shuichi,” Yuki whispered. He turned at took a step towards the crying boy.

K watched as Yuki’s back was turned to him. Anger rose from the pit of his stomach. Without even thinking, K ran towards the open back, sword ready to strike.

However, K never made it towards Yuki. In fact, K fell to the ground, feeling something strike him in the stomach and his uninjured shoulder. Another strike went to his knee and calf.

“It is shameful to attack from behind,” said Kenshin clearly, looking downward at the fallen man.

“Fuck you,” whispered K. He felt as if he had experienced a million blows to his body all at once. He used his sword to try to get himself back up, but found it impossible to get up. All he was able to do was to raise one leg, so that he was only resting on one knee.

Haruki stood with a gaping mouth. He swallowed hard, the action actually causing him pain. He could not believe that the infamous White Devil had fallen. The name itself was enough at times for Haruki persuade certain business partners to choose the “correct” business tactics. Yet, here was the owner of that feared name, down on one knee, unable to get up. To Haruki, it was like watching the black ink mix with water when doing calligraphy. At first, the water drop could still be seen, but, as the brush moved back and forth, the water drop would no longer be there. Now, Haruki could see that all his planning for the past sixteen years were all being washed away, if it caught up with the current of a running river. The river was moving too fast, the current too strong.

Yet, Haruki did not become what he was now to be discouraged at every obstacle along the way. It was wise to always plan, to expect the unexpected, to fix one small aspect of a problem so that the problem could be more manageable later on. Always expect the unexpected. Haruki put his hand inside his kimono, the action going unnoticed by everyone except one. The hand grasped the handle of a revolver. Slowly, Haruki pulled the gun out, his eyes staring straight at Yuki.

***

Exhaustion shone on Hiro’s face. The dark red locks were soaked with sweat, clinging to his face and neck. As his fight went on, he grew more tired. More than once, he paid for his disappearing endurance. He was now a not so proud owner of several cuts and a bruises, one of the most prominent being a wound on his head. That gift was well received when Hiro was too slow to block and his opponent decided to strike his temple with the blunt handle. Hiro knew that he had to end the match or be a victim to his crazy opponent. His opponent seemed to have a habit of talking while fighting, constantly calling Hiro “Mr. Red.” It was driving Hiro nuts and he had to admit, if the talking was a strategy to weaken Hiro’s mental state, it worked well.

Seeing Ryuichi rush forward again, Hiro decided that this would be the best chance to end this match. Using up all of his energy, Hiro ran to meet the attack, effectively blocking the strike. Once again, Hiro found himself locking his sai to his opponent’s blade. Thinking fast, Hiro moved his front leg next to his opponent’s front leg. Then, while holding on tight to the locked blade, Hiro used his foot to catch his opponent’s ankle and tugged swiftly, swiping the opponent.

Ryuichi blinked once when his strike was stopped. He blinked twice when he found himself unable to pull out his beloved Kumagorou. He blinked more than three times when he found himself falling, his front foot losing its footing. He almost shed tears when he realized that as he was falling, his blade continued to be locked in those annoying pair of sai. Then, those same eyes grew wide as he saw, almost in slow motion, the sai twisting and about to break the tip of the sword.

“No!” wailed Ryuichi, with anguish. “Kumagorou!”

Hiro used all his might to used his hold on the sword to break the damn blade. Finding this almost impossible, Hiro moved his sai down, closer to the tip. Still, it was of no avail. All the energy he had spent only resulted in the chipping the very tip of the sword. Then, hearing a cry from the fallen opponent, Hiro moved backwards, releasing the sword.

Ryuichi clutched his sword to his chest and tears streamed down his face. He gave an accusing glare to Mr. Red. “You hurt my friend!”

Hiro just stared at his opponent, dumbfounded. “Excuse me?”

“Look!” exclaimed Ryuichi, waving his sword around. “You broke Kumagorou!”

Hiro just stared with wide eyes at this strange sight. If the smaller man was referring to the sword, all Hiro saw was a chip at tip of the blade. The chip was not even noticeable. Hiro lowered his sai, all thoughts of fighting disappearing from his head.

“So mean! You are so mean!” sobbed Ryuichi. He once again clutched the sword to his chest.

A loud gunshot rang in the air, causing Ryuichi to stop crying. The tears halted and his eyes became remarkably clear as he looked towards the sound of the gunshot. He could make out a kneeling blond head.

“K,” Ryuichi whispered. He hopped up from his sitting position and ran towards the kneeled figure.