The Gemini Movement

Chapter 10: Single Body

Motoko breathed in the fresh scent of nature that permeated the land surrounding Hinata-sou, smiling as her meditation had come to a head.

"Soon, you will see. Keitaro..." she sighed into the wind.

…

Naru was in her room, studying. Time had passed quickly for her, so she was clueless how long Keitaro and Kitsune had been out.

…

Su and Sara were busy mapping one peculiar tunnel that seemed to be completely horizontal, yet stretched from the hot springs to the roof.

…

Shinobu was in her room, taking some time to stitch clothing for everyone, along with a few other projects: Motoko had asked Shinobu to make a gi and hakama similar to hers for Keitaro to train in.

…

Mutsumi and Tama were enjoying a nice watermelon smoothie that she had conjured out of nowhere.

…

Kitsune was frozen on the spot, watching as Keitaro stripped off his old, unflattering sweatshirt. She was not unimpressed. Her stolen glance of him in the changing booth couldn't compare to the sight before her. His upper body was excellently toned as a result of Motoko's training. Kitsune's thoughts were reduced to three syllables or less as the rest of her attention was directed at the vision before her that she was not planning to forget. Ever.

"Well, Kitsune, your turn," the man before her whispered softly.

…

Shinobu had finished her thread-work, putting everything in it's place, and decided to drop by Keitaro's room to see if he had returned yet. She knocked on his door, and heard a voice say, "Enter," so she opened the door and walked in, surprised to see that there was no one inside. Shinobu turned to leave but caught some movement in the corner of her eye. She walked over to Keitaro's desk to see what had waved at her, and picked up the curiosity. It was a quill, sticking up out of an ink bottle. It looked like it used to belong on a crow, but had been adapted to writing. Shinobu looked around for anything that the quill had written on, but could find nothing until she saw a composition book by Keitaro's bed. She picked it up and opened it, scanning it for a few seconds before her eyes went wide.

"Hey guys, we're back!" Keitaro's voice echoed up from the entryway. Shinobu panicked, sprinting back to her room and collapsing on her floor, before realizing that the booklet was still held to her heaving chest. She made to run back to replace the book, when footsteps headed up the stairs halted her. Keitaro was headed for his room.

"Oh, no! What am I going to do?" Shinobu wailed.

…

Kitsune sat down on the couch and breathed deeply. My, that was an... interesting experience... she thought as she watched Keitaro go up to his room, not that I regret any of it. Kitsune smirked to herself.

…

Keitaro walked over to his bookshelf, and picked up a book that he had bought a while back, after Motoko started teaching him how to use ki. At first glance, it looked extremely old. So old, in fact, that the casual way Keitaro handled it would make any book aficionado cringe. Upon closer examination, however, one would see that the book's worn leather cover was in fact printed onto a modern hardback cover. The title 'scratched' on to the leather design read "Metaphysical Theories and the Power of the Spirit" by a Pr. Victor Amadeus. Keitaro took the book over to his desk, sitting comfortably. He turned to the page marked by his bookmark and began to read.

'Asserted previously is the insistence that this power cannot be accessed easily. Either extreme mental prowess or emotional distress must be present for this inner power to manifest outside of the mind itself. The power, once tapped, could cause imaginary and emotional concepts to become semi-physical, similar to a gas, but it cannot be manipulated by mundane physical forces. The effect these mental forces would have on the physical world, however, would depend on the person and their emotional state at the time of evoking this power. A person who is normally calm, for example, would create a violent, but unrefined force when angry. Likewise, a typically furious person, when calm, would project a benign, but restless energy.'

Keitaro set down the book for a second and tried to imagine what the girls' ki would look like. He already knew Naru's to be a red, jittery bubble of boiling water, as it was easily visible to anyone with eyes. Motoko's he knew from training, a tightly held, but expansive silvery cloth that could stream out as wanted.

The other girls, however, he had to guess. He imagined Su's ki looked like the end of an open power line, but in banana yellow. Shinobu's had to be very calm, and almost certainly filled a room, so Keitaro imagined it looked like a swimming pool. Sara's ki took the form of a small sun, and Mutsumi's formed a large watermelon. Keitaro laughed at the sometimes-subtle symbolism he was creating. Then there was Kitsune's. Keitaro frowned. For some reason, the obvious choice, a mythical kitsune, didn't seem to fit his image of his tenant. Keitaro's thoughts were interrupted when he heard a knock at his door, "Keitaro, can I come in?"

"Sure, Motoko!" he replied. The door opened, and Motoko entered, holding a bundle of cloth. Keitaro realized that he was in the only seat in the room and immediately stood up and began to offer her the seat, but she simply sat down on the floor. Keitaro chose to be tactful and seated himself a few feet away from her, also on the floor. "So, what is it?" he asked.

"I have something for your training," she began. She indicated the bundle she had entered with. "It's a training uniform, like mine. It should be more convenient to practice in, no?"

Keitaro's eyes went wide as he picked up the garb. The gi shirt was a deep red, almost the same as the jagged edge of his sword, and the hakama pants were black. It seemed the whole outfit was designed to coordinate with his weapon.

"Shinobu took some liberty with the colors, but neither of us thought it was a bad idea. Shinobu liked the idea of it matching Kuroi Houka. I was content with being able to tell yours from mine," Motoko commented offhandedly. Keitaro chuckled.

"I'll have to try these out next time we train. Maybe we can go back to training tomorrow?"

Motoko had stated clearly that she wanted Keitaro to rest for a week after the attack on the Inn, and only five days had passed. By all accounts she should have said no. However, Motoko found her iron resolve folding under her student's pleading gaze, and decided that they'd had enough rest time. "Alright, meet me out back of the Inn tomorrow morning."

"Out back?" Keitaro arched an eyebrow, "Not the roof?"

"No, the grounds behind Hinata-sou are very spacious and have many spaces that are perfect for meditation," Motoko remembered fondly the stone she had discovered.

"Alright, out back it is!" Keitaro grinned, "Oh! Before you go, I want you to see something from this book," he reached up to his desk and pulled down the faux-ancient tome he was reading earlier. He opened it to a chapter in the front half of the book and set it down for her to read.

"This book was written by an English professor, that is to say, a professor from England, who in his time was known for studying people who could influence the world directly with their emotions and thoughts. He was intrigued by stories of telepaths and the Japanese legends that would later provide the inspiration for the movie The Spite and the game Unheard Mountain. He gained doctorates in numerous fields, including Medicine and Theology, and devoted his life to unlocking the mystery of what we simply know as 'ki.'"

"So why get this book if the Japanese have known about it for hundreds of years?" Motoko asked.

"Because, his theories also incorporate ideas and concepts from all over the world. Look here," he pointed at a paragraph on the open page, "'Throughout the years, vocal commands have been used to make certain 'powers' come to life. However, in very few cases are these commands in the native language of the person using the power. Normally it is a secondary language that is far removed from the person's native tongue, such as Latin to a person who speaks English. These words evoke the emotion and concentration necessary to create the force, as the speaker must focus his heart and mind on what he is saying. However, the vocal commands do not need to be related to the desired effect in any way, only that they create the mental effect needed. There are a few languages where the rule of seperation from the language does not apply. The people of the Orient can manipulate this energy, which they call ki or chi, using vocal commands of their own tongue, as the lettering of these languages each hold a religious significance.'"

"So what is your point?" Motoko asked, "It says there that the Japanese have used their own language to perfect effect." To demonstrate, she drew her boken and twisted it slightly, muttering, "Shinku-zen." A small arc of wind formed and flew a few feet across the room before dissipating.

"That's true," Keitaro's smile never left, "but watch what I learned to do after I read that!" He sat up and held his right hand in a fist over his left shoulder. He then dug some change out of his pocket and tossed it in the air. As the coins fell, he yelled in English, "Black Lash!" and swung his fist in a line from his left shoulder to behind his right hip, and from that arc came a flurry of night-black tendrils that whipped each of the coins into the wall before returning to Keitaro. Keitaro came to rest while the coins made their tortured way to the floor, some rattling for a few seconds before coming to a rest. In the meantime, Motoko just watched in awe.

…

The man tugged at his leather jacket nervously. He didn't like the look of the man in front of him at all. It wasn't that he was ugly or cruel looking, or anything, but whenever a man dressed in a ten thousand dollar suit walks into a mob bar without even hesitating and asks to see the gang leader on 'business', said gang leader starts to get jumpy. Especially so when the only one who looks at this man in the whole establishment is the one he's expecting to see.

"Youniku, how nice to see you!" the man shouted jovially. He wore a royal red silk suit that looked like even the buttons were tailored for him. Youniku spotted gold cufflinks and tie clip adorning the outfit, and yet even thought he yelled rather loudly given that they were indoors, no one payed him any mind. Damn, I'm in trouble. This guy's probably some high-end Yakuza boss... Youniku thought grimly.

The gang leader sat across the smiling man and decided to get it over with, whatever 'it' was. "So, mister..."

"Call me Sobio," the other man replied.

"Then call me Niku. What is it you want from me?"

"Oh, nothing much. I just need your gangs help, is all." Sobio replied, picking at his nails.

"What for? You look like you could hire just about anyone you wanted for any job!" Niku replied, somewhat suspicious.

"Exactly! And I want to hire you and your gang, for a job in a TV special I'm producing. It's about domestic safety, and I want the "This Could Be You" part to be authentic, thus, I'm hiring authentic criminals!"

"And what's in it for us?" the gang boss was clearly expecting a crap deal.

"How about five hundred thousand, each, and I pull a few strings to get your buddies out of jail?" the man smiled at the effect the more than generous deal had on the gangster, "I just need you, and five of your guys for the job."

Niku frowned there was no way this man could offer what he was offering without some kind of catch, "Just one problem there Devil-san. I only have four guys out of prison right now."

"Oh, now?" Sobio pursed his lips in mock surprise, "We'll just have to fix that, huh?"

He raised a cell phone to his ear and spoke, the call already in progress, "Send him in."

The door to the bar opened up, and a thoroughly confused man walked in, looking around in disbelief.

"Teki!" Niku cried, "How'd you get outta jail, man?"

"I sent for him," Sobio answered behind him, "It was easy. I could do it several more times, too."

"You have a deal!" Niku gripped the man in red's hand and shook it. Just tell us where to go and what to do!"

"It's simple, just go to this address," Sobio passed over a card, "and treat it like a typical home invasion. The cameras are hidden and safe, so don't worry about any crew. Just act natural."

"Gotcha, when do we go?"

"Tomorrow. I have to finish a fire safety special in the afternoon, so wait until sunset. Now, I have to go, so I'll see you then." Sobio then got up and walked out the bar into the night.

"C'mon guys," Niku called to his crew, "We got preparations to make!"

…

The next day, as the sun was sinking under the horizon, Niku and his men were waiting outside the doors of the address Sobio had given them.

"Everyone ready?" Niku asked, "We better make this good."

"Yeah, think of all that cash!" Teki drooled.

One of the other members spoke up, "Shouldn't we make this extra-scary? You know, make for better TV?"

"Yeah, yeah, make it REALLY real!" another said, mischief evident in his voice, "After all, truth is scarier than fiction!"

Niku knew what his men were hinting at, and felt no need to stop. After all, the actresses inside knew what was happening, so they'd be expecting whatever they threw at them. "Okay, guys, go crazy, just don't be too rough!"

Niku fingered his gun as he got ready to bust down the door. "Ready... Go!"

…

Traitor.

Liar.

Sadist.

Bastard.