Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and all its characters don't belong to me and I will not bear responsibility for any accidental deaths or injuries caused to characters.
Heavenly Challenge"The one who triumphs will be the one to decide the age!" A voice from nowhere interrupted the thoughts of the two frozen parties.
Soujiro jumped a meter, and peered around nervously. Hiko and Shishio did not take their eyes off each other, but looked no less confused. Failing to locate the source of the voice, the churning of private speculations in respective minds resumed.
What on earth did that mean? And how did I even get here? Fumed Hiko. He was still holding his cup of sake, although he didn't particularly feel like drinking it anymore… not with the pungent scent of blood suffusing the air. He studied the carnage before him briefly. The wounds on the fallen indicated that all of them, save one, were done in by a sloppy fighter. The one that was an exception had multiple injuries, each dealt from a different direction. This killer is vastly superior in speed and skill…and with a rare talent too, I suspect… thought the swordmaster.
He turned his attention back to his company.
The one swathed in bandages emanated a tremendously vibrant ki... one almost white-hot in intensity. Hiko had sensed this kind of ki on the battlefield before, but never for more than a few minutes. Such powerful will and desperation! He thought approvingly. This kind of spirit can only come from one treading the thin line between life and death…
The boy beside the mummified swordsman was a completely different story. The swordmaster couldn't sense a single trace of a warrior's spirit in him. Yet, the boy did not have the uncontrolled emotions of an amateur--- there was nothing coming from him save gaiety. Very odd indeed… He thought.
He also noticed that the boy was holding a bloodied sword. How depraved... His thoughts turned to disgust. So this is what the world has come to--- even those who have no swordsman's will have to resort to chaos… He sighed and gave a mental shrug. Well, I guess that no longer surprises me…
Shishio's sharp features were composed in earnest thought. Having fought many of Japan's finest warriors, he could tell, just by the way an opponent put his ki on edge, how skilled that person was in reading Shishio himself. Yet the ki of the man before him was so laid back that for a moment, Shishio wondered whether the man sensed him at all. Even the ex-hitokiri could not fathom how any foe could possibly face him without adopting a modicum of caution.
This man must either be extremely stupid… or extremely confident… He surmised. OR he might just be so strong that he can afford to be lax…
The third possibility stirred Shishio's blood with excitement. I have pitted many warriors against each other in this arena, He thought, remembering the voice he heard after the stranger had materialized. The one who triumphs will be the one to decide the age, huh? God himself must have sent me the strongest fighter alive, so that I can personally defeat him and take Japan into my own hands.
That's it. There can be no other explanation!
Soujiro was the first to speak.
"Hehe… you must be pretty skilled to get past all the guards." He giggled at Hiko. "I guess that means we need to be more careful in the future."
"Soujiro." Shishio silenced the Tenken. His eyes seemed to burn through Hiko. "Who are you?"
"A humble potter who has no wish to do business with you." Came the blunt reply.
Shishio's only response was a twinkle of amusement in his red eyes. "Why are you here, then?"
"I should be the one asking this question." Said the 13th inheritor of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu haughtily. "I was minding my own affairs when you two and this whole damn place intruded into my personal space."
"Mou, mou…" Laughed Soujiro. "You sure are a rude guest…"
"As you are a rude host." Said Hiko, eyeing the carnage with distaste.
"You're here for a reason." Said Shishio.
"I don't care."
"That's fine with me. But it would be a shame for you to die without knowing why."
"My only shame is in not being able to enjoy sake in peace." Hiko snapped back. "But I guess I cannot expect too much when I run into fools at every corner."
"Sake is only good enough for escapists." Said Shishio, noting with glee a twitch in his adversary's eyebrow. "The only drink fit for a warrior is the blood of his enemies… and yours call out to me like a fine wine." He turned to his young henchman. "Soujiro, I want you to sample his wine for me… in return, show him your Shukuchi."
Soujiro's childish features shone with enthusiasm as he skipped lightly on one foot.
"Potter-san, is it?" He remarked to Hiko earnestly. "I haven't had sake before, but if it doesn't make you stronger, then it's a mistake to drink it. After all, you'll only end up as food for the stronger."
"What I drink is none of your…" Hiko never finished his sentence. Soujiro had disappeared from a standing start, hurtling towards the swordmaster. He was so swift that for a moment his feet left seemingly frozen depressions in the blood across the square. In the next second, the puddles splattered outwards in arrow shapes simultaneously, all pointing towards Hiko. With velocity surpassing god-speed, Soujiro swung his blade sideways at the swordmaster to cleave his waist in a spray of blood.
Yet before that could happen, the blade had smacked into something like a wall. The momentum threw Soujiro off balance, causing him to teeter precariously on his right foot. To his disbelief, the man in the white cloak had caught his blade with two fingers, seemingly with no effort. The recoil hit Soujiro's arm with such impact that the Tenken's numb hand almost slipped off of his sword.
For a moment, urgent signals overwhelmed Soujiro's brain. I can't let go of my sword! The only thing that can save me is my sword and Shishio-sama's truth!
In that split second, the Tenken's lithe body was drenched in cold sweat that he had not felt in ages, and he almost fainted. Surprisingly, he managed to pull himself together swiftly. Teeth ground and pale face contorted with effort, he dug his heels into the ground and pulled at his sword with every ounce of strength left in his thin body.
Hiko's smug smirk was replaced by a look of surprise as he watched the boy tug doggedly at the sword, like a mouse trying to uproot a carrot. It took the older swordsman all his strength to get a grip on his composure. What's wrong with this kid? He snickered. Even my baka deshi won't be caught doing something so dumb...
He watched Soujiro give another mighty tug. Surely, any sane person would have made a run for it by now…? He thought, struggling to swallow his chortle. And why on earth is he smiling anyway?
Unable to stand it anymore, Hiko finally decided to release the sword just as Soujiro gave it his next determined tug.
With a cry of surprise, the Tenken flew backwards with more velocity than he'd have liked, a fact not helped by the timely smash of Hiko's boot into his stomach area. In a smooth sequence that would have won an Olympic medal if he had done it backwards, the young swordman traced a graceful arc through the air, landing a little less gracefully on his butt, followed by the back of his head meeting the ground with a smack. Then he was out cold like a dropped sack of rice.
There was a brief silence as Hiko and Shishio both studied the horrified grin still plastered on Soujiro's face in awe (albeit for different reasons).
Hiko looked at the sleeping teenager, lost in his thoughts. What lousy defense! He thought critically. My baka deshi, although slower, is much better than that… but of course that is to be expected with a great master… He interrupted his train of thoughts angrily. What am I thinking about? That baka may be dead for all I know… a fighter of this boy's caliber could have killed him. He relies too much on reading his opponents' emotions… but damn, why should I even care? Dealing with stupid people is making me remember things…
Shishio, on the other hand, was exuberant. The ex-hitokiri was fairly confident that he could intercept Soujiro's sword as well. However, even Shishio himself doubted that he could bring it to a complete stop, and with two fingers alone. Amazingly, his opponent had just done that, as well as brought down the Sword of Heaven, without drawing his sword to display a single move.
AND, most impressively, his opponent hadn't even spilt a drop of sake.
Incredible.
The potential strength of this man made Shishio shiver with savage glee. Finally… someone fit to challenge my full prowess! He exulted. Yet, no matter how strong he is, I will surely find a weakness somewhere… after all, no one surpasses me as a predator! From this moment onwards, any mistake he makes will make him, and Japan, my feast…
(To be continued…)