Pre Story Notes:
Here's a question to ponder. 'How do you react to a situation?' I ask this because this is one of those little tidbits you have to think about. How DO you react to a situation? Would you really react like that? How long did it take you to plan that?
Much like how your dialogue can be fine-tuned in writing, so can your actions. It is to say that because you are writing; you already know the right and wrong answers to all situations. Knowing this, it is easy to determine the actions at any given point. Being armed with foreknowledge of the 'plot' becomes an unintended 'tactical advantage'. So what you have to ask yourself, is how do you go about separating the knowledge you have of the plot as a writer, and the complete lack of direction you have as a character?
In reality, it may not be that you know what move to make, but that you recognize it at the time in question, in time to make that move. The difference between a well informed, planned move and a spontaneous 'looked like a good idea at the time' is a matter of actually having the time to think about it. Many of the worst actions that ever occurred were not the fault of stupidity on the person undertaking them, but rather the inability to think them through before it was too late. As they say: "Hind Sight is twenty-twenty."
So a prudent thing to ask would be how long it takes you to think of a response. How do you react to a complex situation under pressure? How fast can you perform problem solving, and to what complexity?
With those in mind, let us move along.
I think that if I was ever asked what the most terrifying experience I ever had was. I would have told the person it was waking up one night in a place I didn't recognize and getting chased around by people I could barely see and didn't know.
That was before.
When I had finally decided to just follow Ryoyo's lead and take a quick nap… I think I was barely asleep when I was jolted awake by the loudest, highest damn pitched scream I had ever heard out of human being in my entire life.
The room was still trying to spin into focus when this was enunciated by a brutal blow to my ribs.
"FUCK!" I yelped, for lack of any other way to phrase having a rib cracked before you even knew what was going on.
As I rolled away from the direction of the blow, my brain tried to figure out why I was suddenly under attack on Tenchi's couch. The answer of course being, after I finally managed to see my surroundings, that I wasn't ON Tenchi's couch. Or in his house for that matter…
-The fuck?
I didn't really have time to take stock on my location though with my attacker, a girl with long dark hair, shouting obscenities at me while dressed only in her underwear. Any other time, any other place, this might have been a more inviting scenario. But here, trying to stand up while she shouted and threw bits of samurai armor at me, after having obviously been kicked in the chest… She could have been naked and I wouldn't have really noticed.
Having gotten to my feet, I managed to take something more or less resembling a balanced stance to try and protect my precious vital organs from an undue pummeling. However, when she ran out of armor to chunk at my face, the obviously freaked out woman grabbed the next thing in line.
A sword…
I immediately looked around to find an exit upon seeing this and discovered that it was rather conveniently across the room. This had the predictable result of placing she-hulk between me and a very hasty escape.
I didn't really process the practiced ease with which she pulled the blade out of the scabbard and raised it in one swift motion, but I knew she definitely wasn't afraid to use it.
"ZAN-MA-KEN…"
Wait a- Oh god! You're kidding me!
"NI NO TACHI!"
I threw myself sideways with everything I had. I didn't care what I hit. As long as I didn't impale myself on a spear, anything was better than getting hit by Boulder Cutting Blade. It barely missed, but I could feel my ears pop as the attack took out the wall behind where I had been. I continued to tumble over, probably cutting myself on who knows what random bits as I thumped to the ground. My brain was slowly spooling up; kindly informing me that I just dodged Motoko Aoyama's signature attack.
Dodging it was probably a good thing. I'm not as durable as I look. And if that attack did to me what it normally did to others, it would:
Low end: Break several bones in my body after flinging me twenty feet through the air.
High end: Cause massive internal hemorrhaging and/or liquefy my internal organs on impact. Killing me instantly.
My train of thought was nowhere near as eloquent as this transpired however. As far as I was concerned: Motoko swing sword, wall go BOOM! Sword bad!
My retaliation started with the first thing I could wrap my hand around, a piece of broken wood. Throwing it at her, I struggled to regain my feat as I found and threw another piece of broken knick-knack. They did little more than keep the vicious Aoyama from going for another all out attack, but that bought enough time to get back to a standing position.
My mind struggled to focus. Motoko would make coleslaw out of me in just a few seconds if I didn't get control. She had a weakness, I knew that much, but my shock and pain addled brain was having trouble connecting the dots fast enough to remember what should have popped up off the top of my head. If only I had an opening, just a few seconds to collect my thoughts…
"Motoko!"
It was no coincidence that others would arrive right around then. After her scream, and the kind of noise made by destructive violence, it was only a matter of time. And in the cold hard physics of reality, whatever amounted to physics these days; the response time for Keitaro Urashima was somewhere on the order of three times ten to the first, seconds.
This could be both a good thing and a bad thing. Good because Keitaro's appearance distracted Motoko. Bad because, depending on where in the story I could be, she hated his guts and would likely become even more violent. And considering her current level of undress, the K-miester was certainly not a welcome sight to her.
Still, a distraction is a distraction. And while she was busy accusing Keitaro of setting this up, I had the thinking time I needed. Motoko Aoyama was the younger sister in her family and eventual heir to the 'Shin Mei Riyu.' In no uncertain terms, she was a master swordswoman. This meant that the only real chance I stood against her would be with a shotgun. Wouldn't you know? I don't have a shotgun. 'OORAH! Maybe I should have watched ol' Gunny a little more attentively.
Motoko was not without a crippling weakness, praise be the gods of drama for it. I knew it, now that I had time to remember it.
Turtles.
She was afraid of them. No, absolutely mortified of them. I couldn't see why. But right now, I didn't care. I had a weapon. And I knew how to say 'turtle' in Japanese.
"KAME!" I shouted, pointing at a random spot in the corner. "KAME! KAME! KAMEKAMEKAMEKAME!"
"KAME?!" Motoko's killer rage turning into a look of total dread as she spun to face the direction I indicated was a welcome sight. With my mind now running at N1, I knew that while still dangerous, it was now possible for me to launch an offensive. And with her back presented to me, it was all or nothing.
'WHUD!'
United States Army Basic Combat Training covers a wide range of combat survival elements on top of the conditioning a soldier needs for battle. Among these are a series of courses for close combat. They included training in the bayonet, and a short set of classes on a form of grappling known as Brazilian Jujitsu. Mind you, I emphasize 'short' here, because six hours a day for two days learning the basic principles of grappling does not a master grappler make.
Still, the course teaches you enough to be dangerous. You learn to recognize a grappler from a striker, and know what to go for in terms of taking the fight to the ground.
As I plowed into Motoko like an offensive tackle coming off the snap, my advantages were clear. Between the two of us, Motoko had a decade of kendo-styled swordsmanship, and a number of open handed striking techniques that could knock walls down. I had two days of Brazilian Jujitsu, the 'Attack! Attack! Attack!' mindset of bayonet training, and out-massed her by a significant margin.
Once on the ground, she was useless.
Mostly...
I discovered quickly that for a small frame, her upper body was quite strong. Yours would be too if you spend a portion of each day just swinging a sword repeatedly. Luckily, underestimating her physical strength only counted as a minor problem. In groundwork, size and strength differences between two combatants were minimized and negated. I was bigger, and she was stronger.
I'd say it was about even.
Now, the drills back at Benning had always emphasized that 'Groundwork fucking SUCKS, but you're WINNING!' And they were definitely right about the sucking part. To a no doubt shocked Keitaro, it probably looked like some kind of kinky foreplay, a guy in pajamas rolling all over the ground with a near-naked girl, probably grabbing places that would normally be quite inappropriate to grab. But I can guarantee you; there was nothing-enjoyable going on here. Groundwork is probably the most brutal, dirty, and personal form of fighting to grace the halls of close combat. And as we struggled around in a tangle of limbs, Motoko was battering the hell out of me anywhere she could throw a punch or a kick whenever she got free. But the core point of the matter was that for all the beating I was getting, she was still trying to use STRIKING methods. She was fighting the wrong way for this. So, yes, it did suck, but I was winning.
I think.
She managed to roll me on my back once and sat straddling me; just enough time to sock me in the face before I could plant a foot and tip her off me. That probably broke my nose, but I wasn't even feeling anything at this point. I just wanted to win.
I caught a break somewhere in the mess when she tried to straddle my stomach and sock me again, and managed to wrap my legs around her waist. With control of the waist comes control of the center of gravity, and control of one's opponent. Twisting as hard as I could, I used my leg power to throw her sideways.
Now, during the bayonet training we received in Basic, we participated in the most fun sport of bashing each other with Pugil Sticks. Does anyone remember American Gladiators? Probably not, so I'll get to the short of it. It consisted of two people with padded sticks beating the crap out of each other until one was knocked out of a ring or off a platform. Great fun…
My experience entailed being paired off against a guy a good head taller than me. A recipe for disaster in most fighting circles. But believe it or not, I did pretty well against this guy. I attacked, and I drove him back quite well.
My mistake however, was pausing both to breathe, and look for an opening so I could inflict a 'kill' shot. At which point he regained his composure, and pummeled me. It was all about momentum. If you lost it, getting it back was a bitch.
I remembered that lesson to this very day. And I knew that if I didn't maintain the momentum I had going for me here, and keep Motoko ON the GROUND, it would be over in a heartbeat.
So as I saw her try to get her legs under her, I lunged with probably everything I had left.
Now, one may be wondering what exactly I aim to accomplish in keeping Motoko on the ground if I wasn't trying to pin her or beat the tar out of her. Truth was, I was looking for a very specific position, stupid as that was to do in a fight like this. But her attempt to crawl to her feet combined with my lunge was EXACTLY what I wanted.
I managed to land on her back and get my arm wrapped around her head as my weight forced her back to the floor. In the process, I took an elbow to the ribs as she reflexively lashed out. My poor ribs…
But now with my goal in sight, I refused to let go. Aoyama got desperate.
With my arm presented right in her face as I tried to maintain a hold around her struggling, she opened wide and bit down as hard as she could.
You want me to describe what it felt like? It felt like someone biting you. Yes, it hurt very much.
Between her growl and my pained yelp, It was very much a highly uncivilized and vicious brawl. But I needed to end this, so I reached with my free hand, taking another impact to my chest as I did so and just grabbed at her face.
There's a little trick you should know. If you grab a person by the nostrils, and pull, they're head goes wherever you want. I used this little fact to pull up, raising her chin enough to slip my arm around her neck while getting her to let go.
Bingo. I had her.
Motoko continued to struggle, shouting now that her mouth wasn't full of my flesh, but each time she did so, I managed to lock my arm into place around her neck a little better until it settled right into the crook behind my elbow. Then I grabbed my wrist with my free hand and pulled.
Despite how it appeared, I was NOT trying to break her neck. In fact, through this whole thing, I had yet to even hurt the girl. No, what this was… Was a submission hold intended to cut the flow of blood off from the brain. It was the core of our measly two days of training in Brazilian Jujitsu. I had been on the receiving end of it, and it's quite effective. In fact, once I had the lock firmly in place, Motoko would probably only last about-
'Thud'
Six seconds.
The younger Aoyama passed out, her body going limp, aside from some spasms of her limbs. And finally, it was over.
After a few seconds, just to make sure, I let go of her and rolled away, breathing hard as I managed to force my body to its feet, shaking. I had won, but it didn't feel like it.
Coming out of the tunnel vision I had of the struggle, I could hear a combination of 'Nani' and other assorted voices of concern. Not only had Keitaro been there, and been too surprised to get in the middle of it, but the other girls that lived in the place as well.
"Daijoubu…" I managed to spit between ever increasingly painful breaths. "She's still breathing."
I wasn't surprised when they looked at me like I was some insane stalker. I looked like hell. My nose was bleeding, my arm was bleeding, I was wheezing badly, and there were scratches, cuts, and bruises all over me. No, I was surprised how they didn't swarm me to beat me to a pulp. After a fight like that, I was too spent to deal with anyone else, not even little Shinobu.
I guess it's because of whom I just defeated. Motoko was the house muscle. To the eyes of people who didn't have any kind of fighting background at all, I must have looked pretty powerful to take out Motoko. That would explain perfectly why they were giving me wide berth as I stood there panting and wheezing.
"You," I pointed at Naru, who flinched slightly. Yeah, they were a bit scared. But I just pointed at Motoko's prone form, still twitching on the floor. "Help her…"
The girl seemed to look at me confused. My mind was so addled I wasn't sure what I was saying in Japanese, and what I was saying in English. All I could tell was that I was intermittently swapping English out here and there in my short phrases.
"HEL-PU, MO-TO-KO." I panted between wheezes, indicating her again. Come on Naru; stop acting out of character for the person I recognized. You're learning English in school. Is it really that hard?
She eyed me a little more, fear starting to melt away when it was obvious I wasn't going to attack anyone else. And finally, she rushed in and bent down to check the swordswoman. I took that time to start limping for the door. I'd rather not be in the same room when Motoko woke up. The girls moved back automatically as I did so, clearing enough room to make it into the hall. The only person who didn't back off, was Keitaro. For a spineless blockhead, he had some guts if you knew what to look for.
Yeah, I could TRY and get away before the full weight of what just happened came down on my head. But at this point, I wouldn't get down the steps. I could feel the injuries reporting in from all over my body now. My knee was added to the list of things that were FUBAR.
And yes, it did suck, but I won.
Coughing a little as I limped over to a wall, I made it pretty clear I wasn't going anywhere, and painfully sat myself down against one of the Hinata's support beams. Ugh… Pain. You know what? I think I'll just die right here. If you need me, bring some defibs, 'kay?
That aside, I finally took stock of my situation. Woke up in Motoko's bed, fought her for my very survival, won (barely), and I most certainly look like a stalker or burglar or any other assortment of descriptions you find on a criminal record. I thought I had been screwed after waking up in Ayeka's bed. This time you could probably put assault on the list.
About the only thing going for me is I think Washu's fixer-upper shot that she'd given for me was still active. Because it was starting to feel like my entire body was covered in Icey-hot. If that were the case, I'd be good as new by some time in the afternoon.
Something else was bugging me though. Sitting there, and watching the group dote over Motoko, I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
"Hey! Who are you big brother?"
The first full Japanese I'd picked up and understood thanks to Washu's little shot, and it had to be the one to make me jump while I was already hurting.
You had to leave it to Koalla Su to do that to a person. When she wasn't asleep, Su was like a coiled spring. A bundle of energy ready to be unleashed on her next unsuspecting plaything. The girl was holding a glass of water in one hand, and seemed oblivious to my current state, or the overall situation for that matter.
And then I remembered. That's what was bugging me. Su slept with Motoko. But during the fight, Su wasn't there. Otherwise, she would have jumped on my back like a monkey. The glass of water in her hand explained why.
The energetic blond tornado continued to look at me a bit longer, obviously taking inventory of my features. And finally seemed to notice the general look of 'beaten up guy' I radiated, what with the bloody nose, cuts, bruises, and all that.
"Water?" she asked, holding the glass out to me. I guess I looked pitiful enough even to her.
Actually, I was feeling rather thirsty. Now that I thought about it, I was really thirsty. Maybe it was the nanites. The way they were making my entire body feel like it was wrapped in a heating pad, I was probably sweating like I had a fever.
Taking the glasses, I mumbled a thank you and slowly chugged it down. I really was thirsty.
We both almost jumped when Naru snapped at her from Motoko's room. The phrasing was broken in my mind, but at least part of it was 'Su, get away', and 'dangerous'.
Su responded with a quizzical look.
"He scary no look," I think she said. "Too much he hurt."
Washu's stuff was definitely starting to make its effects known. It felt garbled in my mind, but it made sense.
"Who hurt?" Another new voice, this one from the slightly older woman coming up the hall behind Su… Haruka...
"I hear noise," she continued. I had the feeling I was going to pick up more and more scraps of conversation like this.
"He," Su pointed at me, earning me a glance from the teahouse manager the same way someone would look at a crushed cockroach. "Big brother scary no look, too much hurt."
"What happen?" Haruka asked.
The next few minutes of conversation were too complicated to understand in full, but I got the gist of it through the snippets I could pick out now. And I definitely noticed the look of shock on Haruka's face when Keitaro explained what happened to Motoko.
Motoko awoke within' about a minute of this and seemed surprised to find herself on the ground. I remember the same thing from my experience. Feels like you just woke up from a nap, so you don't immediately remember exactly what happened in the last five minutes. Just looking at the two of us, you'd think she won the fight.
When she finally caught up and remembered what had happened, it was with all her friends, and Haruka there to keep her under control. Thank god, because round two would have been all hers. Haruka got her account of events, and seemed perplexed, asking Su if she'd seen anyone.
Apparently she found it odd how I could appear and slip into Motoko's futon undetected in the time it took Su to fetch a glass of water. That's how I interpreted it anyway. And frankly, I don't blame her. This is the second time I've woken not merely in someone else's bed, but in another universe. A 'fictional' one…
Haruka instructed them to stay back as she walked over to me and crouched down. She was glaring, but it was a neutral kind of glare. An 'I want answers' glare.
"Daijoubu?" she asked.
Normally, I would have replied with as close as I could get to 'I've dealt with worse.' But really, I haven't dealt with worse.
"Daijoubu…" I nodded.
"You stand?" She continued. I nodded and grit my teeth, forcing now horribly stiffened muscles to bend against their will as I pulled myself to my feet. Breathing hurt, I was 'on fire' from Washu's nanos working in over drive and my knee was now certainly fucked up. I'm not entirely sure if Motoko did it, or I did it taking that flying leap out of the way of her signature move.
"You come?" she asked. Well, I understood it as asked, but the tone implied more of a command. I chuckled in almost spasm at the thought, but began limping in the direction she had come at the death-defying pace of, slow as molasses.
The teahouse manager rolled her eyes and turned.
"Keitaro," she ordered, indicating me. It was clear enough to figure this one out; Even for Keitaro. And with his shoulder to help, I was moving along at something resembling a functional crawl.
What would happen next, I could only guess at. But for the moment, I was alive.
