Disclaimer: Click my heals and wish RK is mine
Disclaimer: Click my heals and wish RK is mine. RK is mine. RK is mine.
Computer: Request denied.
Me: Damn.
A/N: A big thank you to Dark-Valar, Stubbs101, Fickle Luck and gabyhyatt for your reviews for the last chapter. I can honestly say that if it for the fact that I knew that there would be those who had an interest in what was going on in my story, this chapter would have never have been finished. I apologize for the delay in updates, the horrible reality of holding a part time job and doing a full course in university as well as deal clingy parents takes a lot out of my creative juices. I also suspect my muses have gone on strike. (the fickle bastards that they are). I promise that the next chapter for this series will be up by this time next week.
As for gabyhyatt's question: Hehe well…I cant say that they are ghosts exactly…but they are…of interest to the story. And what they are exactly is significant.
Quote of the day: Reality should just stop bothering me and go bug someone who cares.
The Insanity of Us
Chapter 4: The Gnome King Arrives!
Basic training was no cakewalk.
In my many years as a teacher, I have seen many types of students walk through my dojo doors. And a few walk right back out again.
In my infinite spare time I categorized these students as I saw fit. Thus proving once again that I truly needed a hobby that had nothing to do with my bokken.
Steady rivers, were students who attended classes religiously and learnt at a pace all their own. Our Yahiko, dedicated and stubborn to all hell, fell here.
Flickering flames, were students who had passion at the beginning but burn out soon and loose interest fast. Most of my early leavers were of this kin. Good riddance.
Windboys, as I liked to call them, were fast learners and dedicated students, they also generally lacked a certain regard for their own safety and good sense. Kijin and Take-kun, were tragically of this kind.
However, after observing my latest student, I discovered a new category that could only describe the white haired menace.
Enishi was a mule.
Had potential and talent, but never applied himself unless he was dragged through it. Even if he moved of his own volition it was random shifts that accomplished nothing in the end.
He gave me grey hairs.
One would comment that I had it coming when I took on this position.
I would agree.
You do not simply invite a seasoned killer into your dojo and expect him to behave like a normal, first time, student.
"You are not dressed for training." I pointed out with a hand on my hip and an arch of my brow. My disapproval floated off me in waves.
He was not in a hakama and gi.
The moment he walked in, the words 'western suits hide muscles a lot better than Japanese robes' streaked naked through my mind. This was of course followed shortly by a firm mental slap.
And another and mental slap for good measure.
Ok I had underestimated his physical health, he was perhaps not as emaciated as I expected. I could admit that. But it was his stubbornness that I had forgotten.
He shrugged. "I never trained in Japan, this is what I am used to." The words 'deal with it' did not have to be said to be understood.
'This' as he so eloquently put it, was a dark pair of pants that ended about a few inches above his ankles. Bandages covered the lower half of his torso and he had a black headband that kept his stark, white hair from his face.
He was half naked!
The dull lighting provided by several hanging lanterns in the dojo only made his skin seem to glow with a dark woody color. I suspected that it would prove to be very distracting if he continued his training in such a state.
I was his teacher damn it and I didn't want to see anything!
"You were a married woman. I doubt that seeing just this much would give you palpitations. Take it as a compliment. I respect your professionalism enough to trust that I will not be molested in your presence." He lips curled up in what could be described as a wry smirk and there was a flicker of challenge in his eyes.
Argh! How that man aggravated me!
I have decided to adopt a policy of polite annoyance when it came to Enishi. Getting riled up was what got me into this mess. I was not going to be 'played' into ending up deeper in that field.
" I'm sorry, molestation is generally a male prerogative, if you like I can arrange my head student to attend and ensure that you are suitable harassed?"
Points to the Kao-chan!
"No, I don't think that would be necessary. I am harassed enough as it is." He shrugged and shoved a hand into his pocket. "Are we going to continue along this entertaining track or are we going to train?"
From here onwards, the path was, perhaps one that was slightly more familiar to me. I was a woman, and naturally being the more 'delicate' as defined by Japanese culture, I was hardly ever respected at first sight when it came to training.
I beat respect into the thick heads of my students, I was certain that I could do it for Enishi as well.
It was either that or die trying.
"We begin this class with stretching."
And so his training began.
Since he was no novice swordsmen, I wasted little time with preliminaries with him. After the stretching, we moved to swings and stances.
He appeared daily, coming two hours after sunset and leaving an hour or two after mid night. He still insisted on jumping my fence rather than using the front gate despite the fact that I left it open especially for him.
His outfit remained the same changing only from black to dark brown alternately, despite my best efforts to force him into the more traditional uniform.
He was as rock headed as ever.
Training Enishi was a tiring process a tiring process but one I found I enjoyed.
Despite his rebellious streak, Enishi turned out to be a very apt student. He learned kata moves and strokes with and enviable ease. His stance was always on point on the first try and he was able to execute, even complicated moves, by simply observing me perform them.
My only real issue with him was the fact that he was tragically temperamental. Enishi moved like a dancer when he wished and a beast when he didn't. His moods were displayed in his movement for the trained eye to observe and note. His Katas were technically flawless but at times seemed to lack a drive, a passion that made it seem like one of those horrid western puppet shows.
He also could never take anything at face value.
"It is pointless to bend my knee when I want to strike! All I do is waste momentum!" He glared, after I shouted at him for about the hundredth time about his knees.
"Yes, but you are prepared to compensate for the blow that comes afterward, so bend your bloody knees!"
"I am fighting with a bamboo sword. If there is a second blow, no amount of knee bending will change the fact that metal goes through bamboo and easier still through flesh." He grumbled.
I noted, soon after he entered the dojo, that he was in one of his more testy moods. The man honestly had mood swings that were at times worse than some of the women I knew.
"Yeah, he probably killed his favorite whore or something." Sano muttered, staring adamantly at the floor of the dojo from his lean near the main doors.
Despite my best efforts, my ghosts continued to haunt us as we trained, and made it a point to share their disapproval at every turn. Sano was more docile than Yahiko when it came to interruptions, but not by much. Megumi proved to be most distracting with her various comments about my connection (or temporary lack there of) with the male bits of Enishi's anatomy.
One would think that after spending 3 weeks being ignored, that even ghosts would stop their stupid stalking and find something better to do.
Sano arched a brow and gave me a feral grin.
"Missy, you're training a psycho, by yourself, using real weapons. Your level of stupid just beat the crap out of mine. The best thing for me to be doing right now is stand here and keeping an eye on the bastard. We wouldn't want him to think that you aren't spoken for, he might get some 'ideas'." Sano's fishbone wiggled in the trademark sign of his glee.
Lord not another one!
I have honestly had it up to my neck with this crap! I was not, am not and never would be interested in having a relationship (physical or otherwise) with Enishi.
The man was, after all, technically my brother-in-law, in a way.
'Ideas' would thus be out of the question.
Ok, not the best of defenses but it was what I had at the moment and that's what I would stick with.
Sano snorted and promptly scratched his chin before sliding down to the floor into a graceless heap.
"Ya' know, when she came here to ask for your help, I don't think this is what she meant. Watching you prance about like he is just a run of the mill brat for your training is not easy for me. To top this off no matter what I say about it, you aren't gonna listen to it anyway!"
I ignored him as best I could and continued to focus on Enishi's movements, which were once again choppy.
"I thought being cupid was degrading enough! But no! She now wants me to be a freaking babysitter as well! Tell ya' what missy, if you ever needed a babysitter, it was way before I met you. If you were a kid I think we might have had a chance to get through to ya'. Now you need a personal sumo coach to get anything through that thick scull of yours!"
Cupid?
Sano was meant to be cupid?
"Cupid?" For a moment I wondered if I had actually voiced my thought when the realization that the voice was just a little too gruff to be my own hit me like a train.
"What the hell are you thinking about cupid now for?" Enishi obviously finished his routine in time to hear what I assumed I must have whispered out in shock, and now he stared at me like I was attempting to catch a catfish with my mouth.
My fortune does indeed exceed itself in its cruel humor.
Er..how was I suppose to answer that? 'Sorry my invisible friend sitting in the corner just informed me that he was playing the role of a diaper wearing baby who was in charge of romance'?
Yup, that sounded plenty sane alright.
"You must be hearing things Enishi, I have no idea what you are talking about let alone what this 'ku-pi-do' is."
When in doubt, deny. It helped that most people assumed that I had limited understanding of western concepts.
"Ha! I knew you were listening!" Sano cheered, despite my best intentions to ignore him, it was proving to be impossibly difficult.
Enishi frowned at me, before turning away. "You insult my hearing as well as both of our intelligence."
Sano nearly giggled. "Busted! I knew those little 'trips' you and Misao made to Yokohama were for more than visiting her 'friend'."
Those 'trips' as Sano called them, generally involved Misao and I dressing up as boys and traipsing through the shadier bits of town in search of adventure. Oh we found it alright, several times in fact. I believe Misao still carries the scar for it.
Sailors were a most amusing (and dangerous) source of information.
"I assure you, I have no idea what you are talking about." I replied, with the utmost faith in my big mouth to keep me out of the frying pan. "And stop trying to change the subject, you did your kata improperly again and I have had it up to the roof with you."
He turned and looked me in the eye with an eerie and unholy gleam in them. . "Very well, sensei." I knew that at some point, this conversation was going to come back and bite me in the ass. For now though, I was sure I would survive.
And so the class continued as usual.
In the early hours of the next day, after my morning rituals and just before I opened my front gate, my ki sense picked up an unknown presence beyond the wood barer.
Though not as developed as Aoshi or Kenshin, my ki sense was nothing to cough at either. Carefully I probed the presence, like a toddler holding using a large wooden spoon to swat a fly. It was an ungraceful, uncoordinated process, but it was effective.
Ki senses were not like sight or hearing. With hearing, something must fall before you hear the 'bang'. With ki senses you hear the 'bang' and then you must interoperate the source. With it you felt things that had no attributing factor.
This particular source was placid, if a little irritated.
It appeared to contain no threat, though that could either mean that whoever was out there was very, very good at ki manipulation and wanted to lull me into a relaxed state and then attack.
Not a rare tactic.
Or on the other hand, this situation could be just as it seems, some poor idiot got assigned to send me a message to me at the butt crack of dawn and was probably just waiting for me to show.
Only one real way to find out.
With a firm grip on my training sword, I shoved open the front gate prepared for a good fight (just in case)
I was met with the scruffiest looking animal I have ever seen.
It was about waist high with brown fur on top of it, and the bits of skin that was not covered in matted fur were a splotchy brown that indicated prolonged exposure to mud grime and all forms of dirt.
When it shifted its stance and revealed lanky limbs from the brown stained clothing I developed a very different understanding of it.
This creature was apparently supposed to be a child.
"You Kamiaya?" It asked.
The voice was low nearly a low rumble that had a unique accent that was definitely not fully Japanese.
It was only with an effort that I stopped myself from the urge to grab him (I assume it was a him) and rush to the nearest body of water, and scrub till I saw some actual skin.
"Who asks?" I answered warily. In this day and age, it never hurts to question. Being aware tends to keep you alive and un-murdered.
The child sniffed and then brushed a grubby hand under his nose, smudging more dirt on dirt caked skin. His youthful face, what little could be perceived of it beyond the shaggy matted hair, crumbled into an annoyed frown.
"I's gotta message fr'm Atena fer a Kamiaya. If you aint she, where'd I find 'er?" The kid mumbled, before tucking a hand into the many layered folds of mud stained clothing that he wore and pulled out a surprisingly pristine looking envelope.
I cocked my head and tried to place the name 'Athena'. It was familiar for some strange reason, but I doubt I knew anyone by the name. My self preservation balked at the idea of accepting communication from an unknown source.
My curiosity promptly told it to shut up.
"Kamiaya-san lives here but is not home at the moment, if you like, I could pass it on to her for you." The little deception appeased my self preservation instincts and allowed me to observe the boy with a little more detail. If I was a champion at anything, it was at beating myself at my own game.
He seemed to weigh the idea for some time.
"S'oright I guess." He said before thrusting up the letter to me.
Gingerly I grasped the edge of the offered letter and tugged it into my hands. I noted that despite the dirt on him, his nails were suspiciously unbitten and the edges of them clean.
"I will make certain that Ms Kamiaya receives this letter as soon as possible. If she asks, might I let her know the name of the messenger as well?" My curiosity was truly on a roll. I was beginning to develop some suspicions.
The child cocked his head, drawing attention for the first time to the fact that his eyes were a deep shade of green.
The grime on him seemed to give an illusion of overall brown coloring which I why I simply assumed his eyes would be the same as well.
"Don't see tha' point, but ya' can call meh' Brat."
Original name. Or was it a title?
"Very well Brat, I shall pass this message on to her as soon as she comes back."
The child snorted.
"You do that." He raised a brow at me and I had a feeling that my little ruse might not have been as effective as I hoped. After giving me a slight nod, he calmly spun around and begun the slow trek back to the heartland of the city whilst whistling a tune. An altogether, perfect fairytale ending.
Except this fairytale left me with an unopened letter from 'Athena' and a strange taste in my mouth.
Damn perceptive children! How was I supposed to deal with observant people after spending years with utter bricks!
Door stabbed daggers and letters from the gnome king himself. My stars must really be out of alignment.
Speaking of bricks.
There was a sharp prickle of awareness. A feeling that brought me back to a time and place where answering the door could mean death and every presence you met could be your downfall.
There was an agitated, nearly angry Ki rushing towards me at what was a run. I had no time to think about it. It was instinct alone.
I swung my training blade upwards, one handed, to strike the new, large, presence that appeared before me. If fully arched, it would hit the throat of a fully grown man, put pressure on the blood flow and at the very least cause him to pass out.
I hold myself back from a full strike just in the nick of time.
"So are ya gonna' stare at the darn thing or open it?"
I glance up and meet the gaze of horrifyingly familiar soft eyes.
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Akasha.