Chapter Three: Invitation
"What do you want?" Mikazuki said, lifting his chin slightly and using his haughtiest voice as he stepped out to stand beside Yasusada.
"What do I want eh?" The leader smirked. "Looks like we have quite the feisty one here boys." It was a mocking tone and the men behind him sniggered.
He leaned forward slightly and made a show of raking Mikazuki up and down with his remaining eye. A hand came up to grip him roughly by the chin and forced his head up. "Indeed you are a real beauty," he murmured. "You should be worth ten thousand silvers at least."
This close, Mikazuki could feel a hot puff of breath on his face as he spoke, and along with it, a strong unpleasant odour of garlic and rotten meat. He fought back the urge to gag and jerked his head away, out of his grasp.
By his side, he could feel Yasusada fairly trembling with rage. "How dare you lay hands on the prince!" he hissed.
"Oh, the prince is it? I'm so scared…" The leader pretended to shiver in fear before his expression settled back into his usual sneer. He obviously did not believe a word that was said. "If the prince looked anything like that… mmm I'll have him moaning in bed under me within seconds."
He rubbed his crotch lasciviously while the men laughed and let out catcalls. They were so preoccupied that they failed to notice when Yasusada unsheathed his knife. He lunged forward and managed to land a slice across the leader's forearm before he could react.
With a yelp, the leader leaped back out of range of the knife and made sure to put a good distance before him and Yasusada. He paused to examine the cut which was still dripping with fresh blood. A dark look passed over his features. "You will pay for that," he promised.
He subtly glanced back towards his men and warned in a low voice, "Make sure you brutes don't hurt their faces! It'll bring down the price."
That was all the warning they got before the five men launched themselves on the both of them in a flurry of sharp knife edges and glinting metal.
A dagger came slashing at Mikazuki from his right and he nimbly ducked it while bringing his foot up to connect to the arm of his attacker and send the dagger flying. The man cried out in pain as he stumbled back, clutching his bruised wrist and gazing at Mikazuki warily.
Mikazuki had barely managed to regain his breath when he felt a prickle at the nape of his neck that warned him of an impending attack from behind. His battle instincts kicked in and Mikazuki sidestepped it gracefully, a wicked looking blade slashing at the empty spot where he was standing just moments before.
"That was close," he panted, grinning up at his attacker in mischief as he dodged yet another blow. "I was almost cleaved into half." A taunt. The man growled in frustration.
Mikazuki could almost feel the waves of anger surging off him.
From the corner of his eye, he could see the first thug approaching him again with his dagger. Mikazuki took a few steps back, making sure to keep a few feet between himself and both his attackers as they started circling him once more. Eyes trailed the length of his body, as if assessing him for his physique and gauging his strength.
He smirked. The men probably thought that he was some helpless, rich, young master who would not pose as a threat to them. They could not have been more wrong. He was not some damsel in distress who needed rescuing.
They came at him again, both at once this time, forcing Mikazuki to retreat backwards in order to avoid the sharp blades that were aimed straight at him, each one closer than the last. There was a thud as his back hit the wall, the force of it strong enough to knock the wind from him. He barely had a second to react before his attackers' blades were descending on him once more.
A blade caught in the folds of his sleeves and slipped downwards, slicing the cloth into strips, barely missing Mikazuki's skin. He took that moment to drop to the ground, rolling as he did and managing to just avoid the daggers that were sent swishing through the air in his direction.
"Mikazuki!"
Hearing the concerned cry, Mikazuki got quickly got to his feet and threw a quick glance at Yasusada's way. "I'm alright," he called. He had just been a little careless. In fact if he was honest with himself, he was actually enjoying this little bout. Shouts and grunts could be heard as Yasusada managed to land a blow on one of the thugs before moving lithely out of harm's way.
Or so he thought.
Until Mikazuki saw the leader from before creeping up silently from behind Yasusada, a heavy, wicked-looking axe in his right arm.
His gut clenched. Yasusada was still busy fending off his attackers - two of them - and had not noticed the threat that was looming behind him. There was no time to shout a warning, it would have been too late by then. The leader was only a few paces away, ready and waiting to strike. Even Yasusada would not be able to react fast enough to protect himself.
He had only a second to make a decision. And he did.
Closing his eyes, Mikazuki felt his body going still and focused on the air in front of him. Power emanated from his body, rippling off him in waves, and his sleeves fluttered as if they had been caught in a great gust of wind. As he reached deep within himself the air before him started to shimmer, convalescing to form the faint, glowing outline of a sword.
He heard a gasp and opened his eyes.
Before him a 30 inch long sword was floating in the air, its edges still glowing ever-so-slightly. It was a very fine blade, and he could feel power thrumming from within, almost as if the sword was alive. Mikazuki grasped its handle, which was made of pure wrought silver and inlaid sapphire gemstones. There were ancient carvings and inscriptions etched into its long, thin blade which emanated a faint, silvery glow.
It was very light, and fitted perfectly into Mikazuki's hand. Grabbing it, Mikazuki ran forward gathering speed as he moved till he was a blur. In the span of a breath, he had reached Yasusada's side and had placed himself at his back. The world seemed to slow down around him, the movements of others seeming as if they would go on forever.
He watched as the leader's axe started to descend.
Too slow.
With a casual flick of his wrist, Mikazuki brought his sword up and made a quick, upward slashing motion. Within seconds the axe, now a pile of broken metal and splintering wood, laid in pieces on the floor.
There was a moment of stunned silence as the men all ceased fighting to gape in shock at Mikazuki, disbelief written plainly all over their faces.
"Thank you," Yasusada said quietly.
"You would have done the same for me," Mikazuki replied, turning his steely gaze back onto the leader who had collapsed to the ground. He had the terrified look of one who had been severely shaken, his legs apparently unable to hold his weight up anymore.
"S-S-Swords!" he gasped out.
"Yes indeed." A glacial tone. "You should never have tried messing with us."
Sweat was beading down the leader's face and he positively trembled in fear. Not that Yasusada could blame him. The mischievous, playful Mikazuki from before was gone and replaced with a cold, expressionless beauty. He was utterly serious now.
Only the barest hint of rage could be detected from behind those stunning eyes which were currently boring into the leader with a fierce intensity, but it was enough to keep him frozen to the spot.
Mikazuki could be frightening when he was in a mood.
Mikazuki when angered…
He repressed a slight shiver. Dangerous would not even begin to cover it. Yasusada had never been more glad that it was not directed at him.
"Of c-course we weren't trying to mess with you two young lords. We merely w-w-wanted to, ah wanted to… that is invite you out for some fun…"
"Oh? I'm having fun right now." Mikazuki said silkily, letting his hand drift to his side to gently caress the sword that was hanging there in a deliberate gesture. Anyone could see the faintly veiled threat behind that action as he continued to run his fingers over the blade.
"P-Please…" the leader's tone now held a desperate edge.
"Please what?"
"We m-meant no harm. Please just l-l-let us g-go…" He was practically cowering by now, the last part barely coming out as a faint whisper.
It was almost too much.
Yasusada could hardly reconcile this whimpering pile with the loud and cocky man from before. Apparently his own men also had enough of looking at their leader grovel on the ground, judging from their incredulous expressions.
Or perhaps they were just idiots who did not know when to back off.
"Aniki! Why are you on your knees in front of these brats?!" One of them called out. "Let's capture them!"
"Shut up! You don't know what we're up against," the leader growled.
Either they did not hear the warning in his words or they were bigger fools than Yasusada thought, the men merely cast a dismissive glance in their direction before bringing up their weapons as they charged forward. Two of them headed straight for Mikazuki while the remaining two came toward him.
Fools.
He took a deep breath and calmed his mind, calling out to his blade as he did so. There was a rush of power through his body and the world around him sharpened into focus. Yasusada reached out and firmly grasped the hilt of his blade, balancing its familiar weight in his palm.
His blade.
A special blade belonging only to a chosen few and said to be nearly indestructible. It was light, swift and powerful with a sharp edge that could cut through almost everything and never dulled. Only one in a thousand men would be born with the ability to manifest and master the use of such blades.
These rare individuals that are known as Swords.
Swords are born with a natural affinity for steel and talent in swordplay even from a young age. The blades come later and only begin to manifest in boys between the ages of ten to twelve. The appearance, feel, style of the blade would be like a personification of their Master and made to fit them perfectly.
If Mikazuki's silvery blade was light and agile like the moon, then Yasusada's blade would be swift and fluid like the river.
Ever since his blade manifested five years ago when he was twelve, it had felt like it was a living part of him, like a piece of his soul. It felt good to have it in his hand once more, knowing that it would respond to him in a way no other steel could.
Yasusada gripped the hilt tightly now, turning around to face his attackers head on. The blade made a slight swishing sound through the air as he swung it with practiced ease.
He dodged the blow the first man sent toward him and raised his blade to parry the sword his companion was carrying. The blade met with little resistance as it sliced through the other man's sword cleanly, as easily as a knife cleaving through butter.
With a hard jab from his elbow, he sent the man staggering backward with a yelp, one hand clutching his abdomen. Spinning around, Yasusada proceeded to fend off the first attacker and turn his sword into useless scraps of metal in the span of a breath.
Eyes wide and scared, the man scrambled away from him in a hurry.
It was a shame really that he had to disable those swords. They had actually been pretty decent too. Nothing compared to his blade of course, but still. It had been quite well-made for an average sword.
Yasusada turned a critical eye onto his attackers who had retreated to the far end of the alley. Now that he had ensured that both men had no way of attacking them and no longer posed any threat, he relaxed slightly. Sheathing his sword, he turned around to look at Mikazuki.
Mikazuki was standing in the midst of what looked to be a litter of broken metal pieces strewn messily at his feet, the moonlight highlighting his lone profile.
The two men who had charged toward Mikazuki only moments before were now slumped unconscious on the ground next to the remains of what used to be their weapons. Yasusada could just pick out various pieces which once belonged to a sword and some throwing knives.
Their leader had taken the opportunity to get away from Mikazuki and was now gazing at him warily, watching him with a mixture of fear and trepidation. He was slowly inching backwards, towards the exit, his eyes darting back and forth between Mikazuki and the small space between the walls.
"We're not done yet, you and I," Mikazuki said icily as he glided forward, holding his blade in a secure grip. "Don't think you can just leave like that after you tried to hurt one of my own."
Yasusada thought he heard a whimper.
Mikazuki lifted his blade and -
"Halt!"
A beautiful, clear voice resounded through the air, much like the tinkling of bell chimes in the wind. Out of reflex Mikazuki responded to the voice, slowing the blade's descent before it abruptly jerked to a stop. Both heads snapped up at once to look at the newcomer who was currently perched lightly at the top of the wall.
He was a wispy, ethereal-looking thing with hair the colour of freshly fallen snow and flawless white skin. Two golden orbs peered out at them, twinkling with mischief.
"Don't you think that's enough?" the stranger continued. "They look pretty beat up to me."
Mikazuki scoffed. "Definitely not! They almost hurt my Yasu." He eyed the pretty boy carefully. "Anyway, who are you?"
"Tsurumaru Kuninaga at your service! And you?"
"I'm Mikazuki…" A pause. "And this is Yasusada."
Yasusada gave the boy a slight nod and received a friendly grin in return. If Tsurumaru noticed that Mikazuki had left off both their last names, he did not comment on it.
"Well Mika-chan and Yasu-chan, I see you're both really talented with the sword."
"Mika-chan?" One eyebrow arched upwards questioningly while Yasusada echoed a "Yasu-chan?"
"Yup! And you can both just call me Tsuru if you like." He smiled brightly.
While they had been conversing, the thugs had taken that as their chance to escape. The two men Yasusada had fought with earlier sneaked past quietly to drag their unconscious comrades towards their leader who stood waiting near the exit before making a hasty retreat.
Mikazuki scowled. "Don't think I didn't notice them leaving!"
Tsurumaru blinked at them innocently, staring at them with wide, rounded eyes. "I'm hurt Mika-chan. Do you honestly think I would do that?"
Mikazuki gave him a pointed look.
"Well okay, I would." Tsurumaru conceded. "But only because you looked like you were about to finish him off."
"He would have deserved it!" Mikazuki huffed. "Besides, I was only going to teach him a lesson," he added almost like an afterthought.
"Right," Tsurumaru looked unconvinced. "And it would have been a pain to clean up."
"Really!" Mikazuki insisted.
"Okay okay I believe you," Tsurumaru said, raising his hands in surrender. "If it makes you feel better, I have men on them right now."
"Your men?" Yasusada asked with a quizzical expression.
"Yes, they'll be spending the night - and a few more after that I believe - in prison," he replied cheerfully.
Mikazuki could feel the edges of his lips curl up slowly into a smile. That devious little imp. He liked him already. "Oh yes," he hummed. "Lovely accommodation you have there for their likes."
"Of course! Who do you think I am?" Tsurumaru huffed with a mischievous grin. "But enough of that. Actually, I have a proposition for the both of you."
"A proposition?" Mikazuki and Yasusada both chimed in unison.
"Yes," Tsurumaru lowered his voice and leaned in closer, his eyes unusually serious for once. "Would you like to join the Touken Danshi?"