DISCLAIMER: The years away have been so gloomy,
Missed this more than I knew how
But, really, if you'd planned to sue me
Shouldn't you have done it by now?
LONG TIME GONE
Chapter Four: Egos and Appearances.
Kenshia somewhat regretted her decision as many possible repercussions raced through her mind. What if, while traversing halls she barely knew, she was found by another guard? Would she be thrown out for insubordinance? Certainly not. She was an asset- that was one thing she had going for her. What if her guard roused or someone found him? He'd know exactly where to find her, and the-
Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of clinking metal, grunts and dull thuds.
Oh. Well, clearly I've found their training area…
She peered around the corner, her eyes surveying a scene entirely different from the one she'd expected. Rather than cushioned floors, dulled weapons and body armor, these boys- well, men by the look of things- were training in a dimmed, stone-floored hall, with what looked like regular weapons and minimal armor.
Apparently the Ryugettai were elite through means of attrition that Kenshia didn't want to linger on.
There were separate groups, each locked in a dance of sorts: parry, block, attack, defend…the group nearest her had a young blonde-headed boy in the middle, with Dilandau playing the offensive role. She crouched by the door frame, hoping to observe unnoticed, but she moved too quickly and several heads turned in her direction. One of which was Dilandau's.
Kenshia mentally cursed herself. Right. Trained soldiers. Stealth would be a virtue whilst attempting not to be discovered.
He immediately strode towards her, everyone falling into stillness and silence around him. Kenshia's adrenaline surged and she could hear her own pulse in her ears.
"You see, men," he began with a distinct volume and air she'd not expected from the Soldier From The Forest, "had she been an archer, or otherwise been ill-intentioned, those of you who did not manage to keep your attentions focused on the battle as well as your surroundings would be dead." As the last malevolently-tinged word left his mouth, he grabbed Kenshia by the wrist and pulled her up to her feet and into the room.
She barely contained a yelp of pain from her already bruised wrists, but was certain a grimace had betrayed her discomfort. Hiding her fear behind a well-practiced mask of non-chalance, superiority and defiance, Kenshia mentally prayed that her flushing face and racing pulse didn't embarrassingly give away how much she'd suddenly come to fear her handler- not so much because of his demeanor, but more due to his unpredictability.
Kenshia had the ominous feeling that the things she'd gotten away with saying to and requesting from this man in private would be paid for in blood taken by the soldier currently dragging her across the room. The inkling that she was dealing with two different people frightened her.
He's gonna slit my throat. He's going to take me into full view of his men, and to use me as an example of what happens when you are insubordinate, he's going to fucking kill me. Shit.
This train of thought was on replay in Kenshia's mind as she was flung into what had now become one mass circle, every muscle on edge, absolutely sure these would be the last moments of her life. She closed her eyes shut and prayed that her sist-
"…Well?" Dilandau's voice finally broke through the fog of life-flashing proportions in Kenshia's mind. It was then she realized that there was a weapon in front of her unbound hands.
A sword. Her sword.
"I said. GET UP."
And then it clicked. Ohh, what he has in mind is no execution- just some sort of fight-to-the-death demonstration where I'll be inevitably disemboweled and-
Okay. Stop it with the death wishes. Fight. If you're going to die, do so like your family; with some dignity.
Kenshia rose and grabbed the blade, wondering if her oratorical skills might yet get her out of this.
"You know, Dilandau-sama, we've been through this once before-" she said, grip on the sword tight as she and Dilandau circled one another, "And the last time, my hands were sliced, and you nearly gutted me, so honestly, I think you've proven your point." Ego. Stroke his ego. I only hope I can out-run this sonofabitch if things go south here…
"Not yet," he said, taking a barely-dodged swipe at Kenshia's midsection- had it landed, she'd have ended up with an ironically artistic-looking "X" scar on her abdomen, "but I plan to."
Kenshia parried the next blows, weak from her existing wounds and questioning her ability to bear more. She was in a retreat and Dilandau had the obvious upper-hand.
"What's wrong, dear?" Dilandau said tauntingly as his footwork and swordplay forced Kenshia back, back still, "Not so brazen and mouthy as you were upon our initial encounter?" He landed a blow, but ensured it was with the dull end of his sword, and Kenshia cursed, lunging angrily at him.
"Ahh, there she is! The girl calling me 'Zaibach bastard,' wasn't it, or something of the sort?" Her blow missed, though more narrowly than Dilandau would've liked.
"Well, if you've got something to prove," she said through clenched teeth, "I believe you've alrea-" she was cut off, as a quick crouch only barely kept her from being decapitated. Tendrils of her blue hair hit the floor beneath her, evidence of how close a call that was-
Already crouched, Kenshia took a sweep at Dilandau's legs, catching only the insole of a boot as he jumped to avoid it. This knocked him off balance, and as she stood Kenshia dealt a kick to Dilandau's side, which sent him lurching, but (much to her surprise) did not take him down.
Recovering, though not gracefully, he swept around with such momentum that the halting of his blade with her own sent Kenshia careening backwards, too quickly for her feet, and she ended up, as she had in the forest, supine.
Though she expected Dilandau to end this silly game (along with her life), he simply stared at the blade of his sword, looking perplexed.
"You know," he drawled, pacing towards Kenshia, who dared not upset the stillness in the room, but smartly kept her grip on her weapon, "had I desired, this blade would be slick with your blood, and rather than looking down my nose at a pitiful girl, I'd be ordering your remains disposed of."
Kenshia resisted the urge to swallow hard, and hoped her opponent's 'desires' didn't have a tendency of changing mercurially.
"So, if you were wondering," he drew the 'n' in the last word out before pausing and placing his blade to Kenshia's neck, "exactly what point I was trying to prove, here it is." He lowered his voice menacingly, "I can, and will, kill you." He paused for dramatic effect and Kenshia did not need to meet his eyes to feel the truth of the statement.
He went on, "Easily. On a whim; anytime I want. However- I didn't then, and I haven't now, and not so much because I don't want you dead, but because you may prove to be useful." He sheathed his sword after a quick twirl of the hilt for flare, and Kenshia let out an internal sigh of relief. "To extend my point, girl, should you not prove to be useful; should you push your luck, show a hint of disrespect, or attempt escape or sabotage on so much as a single fuel-injector in the hanger bay you have the privilege of working in- I certainly will kill you."
As quickly as he'd spoken, he strode away from Kenshia, towards the exit and past his somber audience of soldiers. He added, without looking back, "And I'll most certainly take pleasure in it."
That much Kenshia did not doubt.
Author's Notes: Where've I been? Four years at a Military College. I've done some of what I write- fallen in love, had my heart broken, faced demons, seen death, lost friends, played Rugby (just a side-note, that one!)… and I'm now a teacher, struggling to figure out What I'm Going To Do but almost positive I'm getting my ass into Medical School.
Well, anyway- what you need to know is: I'm back.
Sorry for the delay. I'm 22 and I've missed this like you wouldn't believe.