Summary: The lives of two friends intertwine with the world of Yu Yu Hakuhso. Bear witness to the exposure of hidden demon overlords that plan to usurp the existing powers of Makai. This is a tale of legendary Greek gods, unheard of techniques, a story of pain, betrayal and love. Join me, on my take of the origins of Ying and Yang.
AAAHHH!! BOOM... an explosion rattled the very foundations of a small secluded dojo in the centre of a snow covered field in the Makia. The dojo was rectangular in shape and made out off "Tashin" an enchanted blue colored wood that could strengthen itself by absorbing energy attacks directed at it. At present, its blue color radiated brighter than ever. The very snow seemed to glow; it was an extraordinary sight indeed! A sight to mark the occasion, for Yangu a youthful martial artist had finally mastered the Misorushen attack of the HASHODOKEN STYLE. This fighting style enabled its user to fully utilize his opponent's strengths against him. Its movements were the most fluid, avoiding attacks at the very last moment so as to fully absorb the attacker's momentum to deliver near fatal counter attacks: even its basic kicks and punches derived bone crushing effects. Hence its popularity amongst apparitions: some literally spent their entire life span in search of its one and only master, Fong Pinshu, a 5000 year old demon of immeasurable strength and skill. Fong Pinshu himself was widely believed to be a god living amongst demons. His conquests were legendary: even told to the young as bedtime stories. At 6.9 he was dressed in white monk style garments, with full waist length white hair groomed to perfection: he had a knot tied to the back of his head, with a strip of hair in front of each shoulder and one down the length of his back (like the guy in kill bill 2), currently he was standing in his dojo, ten meters away from his only apprentice, Yangu.
Fong Pinshu stood with a stoic look, a look that betrayed his pride in his apprentice's progress. Pinshu studied his apprentice, it amazed him of how much Yangu reminded him of himself when he too was at the tender of age of 75. Yangu was of a brownish complexion and stood thoroughly exhausted at 5.10; his body was heavily muscled and well defined with his long black hair drenched in sweat. His only piece of clothing: a pair of baggy black pants clung to his legs with sweat that oozed down to form a puddle by his bare feet. Yes, Yangu was his spitting image, and at this very second his spitting image was about to collapse out of exhaustion, as he did, when he to mastered that attack. This attack causes one's energy to erupt in an impenetrable swirling pillar of youki that reflects all energy attacks with its spinning motion (a motion that creates a vortex that sucks the attacker in at great speed). Before the attack covers the pillars circumference, it is absorbed into the pillar and both are sent hurtling at the opponent. This attack takes on the shape of the animal that best personifies its user. In Yangu's case a winged unicorn: silent and elegant yet powerful.
Indefinable exhaustion was what Yangu felt; this was never the case, even when he mastered the Hitenken attack, another powerful attack of the Hashodoken style. The attack takes on the form of a duel beam, one straight beam and another that twists round it (the drill like beam converges into the smallest point on the tip of the linear beam, to provide the penetration power, whilst the linear beam packs thrusting energy. Yangu could barley hold consciousness as he and the ground drew closer and closer, he however never recalled hitting the ground.
"YINSHU" Yangu mentally screamed. It was another dream of him: he was drifting away, being pulled from his grasp by some unseen force. As part of Yangu's training, any sort of verbal communication was strictly prohibited, this rule had never troubled Yangu: for even in his infancy he possessed abhorrence for dialogue or 'noise' as he called it. Other than Fong Pinshu, Yangu had only chosen to interact with one other and Yinshu was his name.
Flashback
Yangu was cornered with no where else to run, walls were all he could see over the towering form of his pursuer. It was near dawn but Yangu could barely make out the demon: he was gigantic with the face of a lion and the body of a human. Yangu, who was barely 20 years old (still in his infancy) didn't even reach up to the demon's knee. This demon was different from the others that delighted in torturing him; those ones had developed it into a game: the first person to make him scream out won! Yangu had endured through it all... never uttering a single word to any of them, he hated them! It was this hate that kept him alive….it was this hate that kept him silent. He always met their sadistic looks with looks of pure unadulterated odium of his own. However, this time was different; there was a different look in this one's eyes, a look that made Yangu shudder in fear... Yangu didn't know what this apparition was planning but he didn't like it.
"No where to run now kid! Hahahahaha... Look why don't you be a good boy and just bend over for me? ... Hahaha I got a present for you, it's long, big and ..."
"Leave… him… alone"
"Huh" the demon said as he spun round only to see another kid.
"I said leave, him, alone"
The demon turned back to face Yangu, his eyes seemed to bulge out; just like when the others thought Yangu was finally about to scream!
"What's this, a friend of yours boy? Hahaha never had two at once, hey kid why don't you come play with us? I promise it'll be fun, for me at AAHHH!!!!!
Bang!! The demon crashed into the wall right beside Yangu, there was hundreds of knife like objects sticking out of him. It happened too fast for Yangu to follow, all he could think of was how and most important of all why? As he looked at the bloody remains of the demon, an alien feeling crept in, he felt happy; the sight of this demon writhing in pain gave him pleasure, a feeling he had never felt. Yangu paused to get a look at the person that saved him, it was close to dawn, and the alley was slowly being illuminated. The sun gradually crept up to relieve him. He was only a kid! No older, if not younger than Yangu himself. He was just a little shorter than Yangu and was heavily tanned with long black curly hair. He was dressed in khaki shorts and had a black top which had an intricate design of a burning flame. He looked well kept, as opposed to Yangu's rag like clothing. He still held some of the 'knives' in his hand.
"Hey, you okay?" He asked
"..."
"Hello!"
"..."
"Halloo, anybody home?" He called out.
Never before had Yangu been saved! The very feeling of relief was alien to Yangu. Why, why, why? This question constantly vibrated through his brain. He was supposed to be tortured! It was what grown ups were supposed to do! It was all that he knew. Why then had this kid stopped a grown up from hurting him? Why? Then, for the first time since Yangu could care to remember he spoke! His vocal cords had never been used before; his voice was like a soft whisper!
"Why?" Yangu asked.
"So you can talk after all. Why you say? I donno, just sounded like you needed help. Anyway, I'm Yinshu, what's your name?" Yinshu said with an outstretched arm.
End of flashback
Yangu awoke to the soft sun rise and the symphony of nature, he enjoyed this part of the day: it was peaceful and soothing, but night was his preference.
The solace of night; the power to roam alone on road and lo I behold sounds of creatures untold unfold.
Kwame Omane
In contrast to his cold exterior Yangu was a fool for poetry, often dabbling whenever his wrist healed enough to function. Yangu was now fully awake; he had already regained most of his energy (another perk of the Hashodoken style). Yangu moved through his room that was void of any decoration; the only accessories in sight were a table, a chair, a pen and his most prized possession, a little black book where he kept encounters of his experiences in poetic form. Yangu walked through the hallway which led to the dojo, his was a simple life, their abode consisted of nothing but a dojo, two bedrooms and a lavatory. Yangu had to hunt for his food, a feat which he conducted on a day to day bases blindfolded!
As he entered the dojo, he noticed his master seated on a cushion with an empty cushion in front of him. This meant a long lecture or scolding to be precise. However, Yangu was confused: it was not the talking that bothered him for all communication was carried out telepathically, but it was the fact that he only received a scolding when he failed to meet his master's expectations. He mastered the attack and on his first try! Yangu seated himself and prepared for the worst.
"Yangu" Pinshu begun, his mental voice was deep and melodious yet forceful, the type that commanded your attention. "It is time to learn what can only be taught through experience. Thus, I give you leave to travel the Makai and take up your own path in life. I want you to go and determine your path in life."
"Nani?" Yangu exclaimed. This was too much for him to swallow, however he had often secretly pondering over his existence, the pain of not knowing your reason for being is indescribable, yet it was his reality in all the 50 years that he had been a student.
"But before you leave there is something I must instruct you on. You are to use the Hashodoken style ONLY AS A LAST RESORT!!!" Pinshu ordered
"WHAT" Yangu screamed, his blood begun to boil as his face slowly contorted. He had spent all his life studying and for what? A very familiar emotion crept up in him, anger!
"Is this your idea of a joke old man?" Yangu asked.
Pinshu sighed, amongst many things Yangu was very impetuous, often jumping to conclusions before the problem was fully proposed. This was one of the flaws that were to be corrected before Yangu could progress!
"Stop being rash Yang. Think not that I would waste 50 years of my precious time" Pinshu stated
At that, Yangu caught sight of an object hurtling towards him: it was a white samurai sword, the sheath was made out of white marble and was elaborate in design; it had a pattern of a winged unicorn, elegant and powerful on it. As he caught hold of it, he noticed that the handle was plain white and devoid of any designs, however it molded around his hand as he readied himself to unsheathe the blade, thus immensely increasing his grip. Yangu slowly unsheathed the blade… and was entranced! The blade seemed to be made of crystal, as clear as glass, the cutting edge was so finely sharpened that he could barely see it, the blunt edge was nonetheless peculiar in shape; the edge was split into two to form a valley in between, the depression was small and each edge was somewhat rounded. As Yangu fully unsheathed it, the blade begun to glow and emit a humming sound.
"As I thought, the blade has chosen you. This is called the god sword. I shall instruct you in the sword fighting style of Hiten Mitsurugi; it is derivative of the Hashodoken Style. You shall spend the next 9 months in training, before you leave." Pinshu said.
"Hiten Mitsurugi Style: the sword technique of the gods, a derivative? How"? Yangu inquired.
"It operates by predicting your opponent's next move like our style, however it is neither as advanced nor extensive, you will only be able to predict opponents moves based on your opponents emotions. Nevertheless, it also utilizes the god like speed of the Hashodoken style…
10 months later
Yangu had no belongings save his clothing and his black book. Standing on the edge of his master's forest, Yangu found himself reminiscing on the past months before he took his first step towards his new life; in truth, the training of the Hiten Mitsurugi style was nothing in comparison to the grueling training he had undergone within the last 50 years with his master, it only took him 5 months to master, he spent the remaining months dueling his master. However, his first step was long and hard; leaving proved to be harder than expected. Irrespective, this moment was long anticipated, it was his turn now. Finally, an end to the endless pain filled nights… no more sleepless nights… no more broken bones… and no more bloody clothes! Yangu longed to explore the world. The thrill of new challengers and possible adventures consumed him and made his passage easier. Yangu took what he believed would be his last look at his master, those dreadful memories left him, and instead, Yangu found he was musing over those rare and minute signs of emotion that Pinshu should him. Once, on one of the many occasions when Yangu would have been too broken to feed himself, and he awoke to his breakfast lying next to him… a slight smirk cross his face. Yangu then realized, through all that pain and suffering… he had never complained, no not once… with a slight nod he turned and took his first step to life.
Until we meet again old man, until we meet again
It had been 3 days of traveling, 3 uneventful days since his left his master's vast domain. This was the longest period he spent without being thrown to the ground; he felt at ease, such relief was foreign to him. However, there was also a very familiar feeling in him, he was starving, having not been able to find a single decent meal since he left.
A few minutes later
Yangu swiftly flipped out of the collision course. In his hunger he seeked out the nearest restaurant, he found one soon enough however, it seemed high class.
Fool! I said you are not welcome in this restaurant, NOW LEAVE!!!! The restaurants manager screamed as he charged at Yangu.
NANI! The ogre exclaimed.
The ogre toppled face first into the ground, the loud crashing sound drew attention to him, attention he didn't want. All the customers, even members of staff, halted. Onibashu the ogre lay there, paralyzed with astonishment.
"What happened I had him, I know I had him" he cried.
This had never happened, Onibashu dealt with all trouble makers and he dealt with them easily. He had never had any trouble in the past. But the tables had turned: now he laid face first in the ground. Onibashu was blinded with pure fury, he charged again and again, but met the same fate.
"He's predicting my every movement, I can't even keep up with him" Onibashu cried.
It become quite pathetic, slight giggles came from the audience, even though he was somewhat their protector, he was arrogant and a bully. He often tortured all unfortunates unnecessarily, none of the regulars liked him, but all feared to say anything. Onibashu's fury evolved into pure rage: he had been embarrassed in front of everyone, everyone!
"How can this be? I am the all powerful Onibashu! How could this boy make a fool out of me? Me!!"
All reason went out of the window… he had to scrounge what of his reputation was left. He charged at Yangu with full power, his red C-class youki sprung forth around him like a blazing red sun, in his rage he sent tables, chairs and even customers flying: he trampled down everything that stood in his path.
"SUPER GRAVATON PUNCH," the ogre yelled.
The ogre pinned part of his youki to the ground and leapt into the air. His youki resembled a thick elastic band that snapping back after being stretched to its limits, as the ogre shot fist first towards Yangu.
"You fool! Hiten Mitsurugi Style, Ryu-kan-sen," Yangu screamed.
A flash of light was all at could be seen. In his fury, Yangu performed The Ryu-kan-sen: a counter-attack utilized when beside an opponent. Yangu spun around Onibashu's fist and delivered a backhanded blow that decapitated Onibashu's head.
Yangu gracefully landed at the same position, however to the untrained eye it looked like he hadn't moved at all: the only thing that betrayed this was the battered form of Onibashu crashing into the restaurant wall behind.
Loud noises, was all he heard, Yangu had next to no endurance for 'noise'; it was all noise to him, cheers or jeers…was just noise. He had to leave, thus he exited calmly, besides, now that that scuffle of a fight was over, his stomach yearned for attention, he had to eat, but the 'restaurant' was totaled. He stood outside and gladly noted that the noise from the audience and the curses from the restaurant's owner were greatly reduced.
"A cold breeze, I'm being watched" Yangu thought
"Hn…, I have no time for cowards that choose to lurk in the shadows,"!
He walked for about 2 miles until he got to another less flashy restaurant. As he entered he noticed there was no guard. It was small, quiet and dimly lit, traits Yangu held in high regard. No one even noticed him. He seated himself in a seat by the corner and a waitress immediately approached him. She was nothing special; average height and build, neither ugly nor attractive.
"What'll be handsome?" She asked.
Yangu picked up the menu and pointed towards what looked like a picture of roasted chicken.
"Ahaa, Roasted Delight. Good choice," she replied.
"So what brings you here darling?
"…"
She waited for a reply but got none. "Huh silent type, oh well, you we always get your kind around here. Hey, so you got a name?" she asked again.
"…"
"You could say something you know!" she exclaimed agitated.
"…"
Yangu was losing patience; if this continued he would silence her the only way he knew how.
"Hey you going to say something boy" she said agitated.
"That's it"