AKIRA THE KATANA KILLER
CH. 1: LOOMINGS
The young man was staggering his way into the nearby town. He is clad in loose fitting traveling clothes and a dai-pan; his loose, lanky frame swaying side to side. His fox eyes and stupid grin only amplify his drunken appearance; strike that…yep, he's drunk.
Every so often, he'd adjust his dai-pan; a Japanese straw hat, which was covering his short, unruly hair; it grew course and ace-of-spades black. The reason why is because his hat was actually a thin layer of metal covered in cloth, which was more of a burden than a convenience when the sun beams down on him, like right now.
He shuffles into the clearing of a near by town. Finally! Now I can finally get a decent shot of sake! He licks his lips in anticipation.
A welcoming committee of nine swordsmen blocks his way. They are clad in secondhand armor and are wielding two-bit swords.
"Oro?"
"Akira?"
"What's it to you?"
"Don't play stupid with me! You're Akira the Katana Killer! The only one who bested the head of the Watsuki clan and put them to shame single-handedly!" He points to his two short-swords, worn at the hips like a gunslinger's guns.
"So why would you challenge me then, if I supposedly bested the head of the almighty Watsuki Clan?"
"We figured you were one lucky SOB; besides, that king's ransom they put on your head was a nice little incentive…"
The rest of the bounty hunters guffawed stupidly as they drew their katanas out of their sheaths.
Akira shuffled one way; three swords meet him. "Oro!" He raises his hands up and turns the other way. Three more swords meet him. "Oro!" At this point, he is surrounded.
"Now come on fellas, I'm a ronin; a wandering swordsman! You expect me, a mangy, ronin wino, to be the mighty Akira?"
The goons pause for a minute. He has a point; how could this staggering wino really be the Katana Killer; the one who bested the head of the mighty Watsuki clan?
While they're contemplating, Akira slowly takes off his hat and throws it straight up into the air like a Frisbee. The would-be bounty hunters stupidly gawk at it, like dogs watching a ball go back and forth. While they're distracted, Akira shoulder-rams the biggest one.
"Taro!"
"He is the Katana Killer!"
"Get him!"
Getting back upright, Akira dodges a swing and grapples the second bounty hunter, trips him, flips him, and pushes his chin against his foot while he holds his legs in a vice grip; the third, fourth, and fifth rush at him with their swords raised high. K.K. calmly swings his whole body and throws #2 into them, knocking them down like pins.
Getting back into position, Akira elbows the sixth in the gut behind him, grabs him by the head, and throws him from the back.
The seventh tries to cut his head clean off; Akira strafes to the left, ducks, grabs him, and jumps, putting his whole body weight into it, smashing his opponent into the ground.
The eight lunges and tries to stab him in the heart; K.K. drops to his knees and grabs him by the legs. He flips him upside-down and pile drives him into the ground.
The ninth and weakest of the lot quakes in his sandals. Akira, hearing the rattling of his armor, looks squarely at him. He cocks one eyebrow, gives him "the look", and gestures with all four fingers. Come on)
Number nine snaps, screams bloody murder, and runs like hell. Akira calmly dusts himself off, retrieves his hat, and continues his way towards the town. He just bested nine men armed with swords, without drawing even one of his swords!
Sonava…what a migraine! There better be a tavern; this is going to take four shots of sake!