*Author's Note: I deeply apologize for the sudden barrage of kendo terminology presented in this chapter. I know it reeks of lazy exposition and/or the author showing off, but the only alternatives I could think of were to either footnote everything, or to have no explanation at all and pray my readers got it anyway. Any kendoka that might be reading, please also forgive any incorrect usage of terms you may find… I tried my best to ensure my research was accurate, but much like Kagami, I'm coming into the sport cold. - BHS*

CHAPTER 13: Thank You Very Much

Ryouou High

Three Weeks Later

So, no luck?

No, thought Homura as she made a show of rearranging her locker. The one at the shipping port was a normal Demon, not one of the Nine.

Are you certain? asked Kyubey.

Quite certain, it was far too easy to kill. The rest of the Nine are in hiding. They're planning something, I'm sure of it.

"Hey, Akemi-san?"

What about the bodies?

Which ones?

The bodies of the victims that burned themselves to death. Have you found the Demon responsible?

"Akemi-san? Hello?"

Homura grimaced. She had found nearly a dozen of those victims lately, and the sight of each one had turned her stomach. The police forensic reports suspected a serial arsonist… but the police weren't able to see the Brands, which stood out to her like neon signs even on skin blackened beyond recognition. Not yet, she replied. Don't worry, I'll track it down.

I wasn't worried, said Kyubey, with something remarkably close to smugness.

"Hellooooooooo? Akemi, wake up!"

Homura emerged from her locker and stood up straight, intending to tell the speaker to go away… and found herself facing only the upper sweep of a blue ahoge. She blinked; about fifteen centimeters down, the owner of the ahoge was cat-smiling up at her in a way that reminded her of a significantly friendlier Kyubey.

"Hi," said Konata. "Wow, I didn't really figure you for the daydreaming type."

"Izumi-san?" Homura recovered quickly from her surprise, her features settling back into neutrality. "What are you doing here? Aren't you in Class E across the hall?"

Konata waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah, but I'm always late. Kuroi-sensei won't get really mad unless I miss the first five minutes or so."

"I see."

"So anyway… I haven't seen you in a while."

"I've been ill," said Homura flatly, wondering if any of this had a point.

"Yeah, I figured. You're sort of like my cousin Yu-chan, she's really sickly too. So, I guess you didn't hear about Kagamin, then…"

Tensing just slightly, Homura feigned disinterest. "What about Hiiragi-san?"

"She's on the kendo club now! Can you believe it?" Konata's eyes sparkled. "I don't think I've ever heard her say a word about kendo, but all of a sudden she's all determined and stuff, and going to practice almost every day. She's got the swords and everything…"

"Ah," said Homura. She was indeed aware of this; Kyubey had mentioned it in passing. For the moment, she found no reason to be concerned… it was unusual, of course, but given all the stress Kagami had gone through lately, she probably needed something new to vent it. Kendo seemed as good a way as any, as long as she wasn't putting herself in danger.

Konata was still barreling on. "… and at first she really sucked at it, I mean, of course she did! She's never held a sword in her life! I was half-expecting her to quit after the first three days, you should have seen her blisters, they were huge… but no, Kagamin's just that stubborn, she's still at it!"

Homura began to edge slightly to the side, trying to escape the barrage of conversation. There really wasn't any point to it, and she was clearly not interested, so why was Konata still talking?

Her attempt to escape was futile; Konata moved to the side along with her. "It's really weird," she continued, "She only got into all this kendo stuff after the day she started crying in the lunch room. Did you hear about that?"

"No," said Homura truthfully, suppressing a pang of guilt.

"It was awful! I've never seen her like that, she was just blubbering into her food, couldn't even tell us what was wrong. Tsukasa's the crybaby most of the time, and Kagamin only cries about her weight…"

"Izumi-san," said Homura with as much patience as she was willing to muster, "I need to get to class."

"I'm not finished." With that sentence, Konata broke eye contact, and her voice dropped about an octave.

"Izumi-san?" Homura blinked again, confused.

"Listen, Akemi," said Konata, her voice still dangerously low. "I may look stupid, but I know there's something weird going on with you. Kagami is my best friend, and if I find out that you're the one who made her cry…" Konata lifted her head and pierced Homura with her gaze, clear and unafraid. "… I'll be taking you down, bitch. You are already dead."

Homura stared at her incredulously, at this tiny little scrap of a schoolgirl that she barely even knew… and saw something in those angry, half-lidded green eyes that she found hauntingly familiar. It was the same iron determination that greeted her in the mirror each morning, the willingness to face down all the Demons in Hell if it meant protecting her dearest friend. She looked into those eyes and knew exactly how serious Konata Izumi was with her threat… and to her shock, Homura found herself unnerved.

Then Konata closed her eyes, smiled, and waved. "Okay, I gotta go, don't wanna give Kuroi-sensei another reason to yell at me. Her blood pressure's gotta be off the charts as it is. Later!" She was gone before Homura could say another word.

Ryouou High Dojo

"Hiiragi, STOP!"

Oh, what now? thought Kagami in exasperation. Panting, she rose from her stance and relaxed her grip on her shinai. Turning from her sparring partner to face Ibuki-sensei, she answered as calmly and politely as she could. "Yes, sensei?" This was the third time in a half-hour he had interrupted one of her sparring matches.

Her teacher glared at her from where he sat in the seiza position on the floor of the dojo. He had black hair cut short like bristles, and a slightly round, stout face and figure. That face was lined with both age and frustration. "Remove your men," he said.

"Yes, sensei." That was a relief, at least. She pulled the cords tying her hood and faceplate assembly, then lifted them off and held them to her side. Coolness washed over her skin, slick and dripping with sweat… the tenugui head towel wrapped around her forehead was soaked through. She had known going in that learning kendo was going to be rough… she had no idea exactly how hot, sweaty, exhausting, and painful it actually was, though.

Ibuki stood up, his hands folded behind his back. "Hiiragi, are you a pirate?"

"Uh, no, sensei." Kagami blinked. What kind of question was that? Was he making a joke?

"Are you a musketeer?" asked Ibuki. No, whatever he meant by it, it definitely wasn't a joke.

"No, sensei," she answered again.

"Are you a Jedi Knight?"

A few of the other students in the dojo started to laugh, and Kagami's cheeks reddened. "No, sensei."

"Then why," asked Ibuki with his most severe glare, "are you swinging your shinai like one?"

Her face turned scarlet as she bowed. Damn it. "Forgive me, sensei."

"Understand this, Hiiragi: this is not a movie. You are not a pirate, or a musketeer, or a Jedi. When you swing your sword, you aim for your opponent, not his weapon. You strike for the head, forearm, torso, or throat. You do not aim to lock blades or put on a show for the people watching. If you want to do that, go to the theater club and ask them to give you a lesson in stage-fighting. Is that clear?"

Squeezing her eyes shut in shame, Kagami kept her head low. "Yes, sensei."

This chastisement was nothing new by now. Ibuki was a very old-fashioned teacher with a hard edge and a no-nonsense manner; he warned her when she joined that she wouldn't receive special treatment just for being a girl and a beginner. She told him she understood… but lately she was wondering if that hadn't been a lie.

"Good, that's enough. Matsuzaka, Hiiragi, bow!"

Kagami turned back to her sempai, a very handsome, stern-faced senior with black hair and long bangs that were just visible through the grille of his men. She bowed deeply to him, and he to her. "Thank you very much," she said with Matsuzaka in unison.

"Hiiragi, you're dismissed for the day," said Ibuki, pointing to her with the closed black case of the collapsing fan he always carried with him. "Matsuzaka, pair with Aiba for your next match."

"Yes, sensei. Thank you very much," she said with another bow, hoping she didn't sound too relieved by her dismissal. A gangly, extremely excitable boy sprung up eagerly to take her place as Matsuzaka's sparring partner as she walked to the doors of the dojo, not looking back.

Once she was outside, Kagami slumped against the dojo's wall with a sigh, removing the clip that kept her long violet hair bundled up while wearing the men. She shook her head, letting it fall around her… and made a horrible face as a muscle in her neck twinged. She hurt… she thought that after three weeks, her body would toughen up, but she was still getting constant aches and bruises all over. Not only that, but she was certain she smelled to high heaven… she could almost see the cloud of steam rising from her armor and evaporating into the hot, still air. Starting kendo in the middle of summer might not have been the best idea, she reflected as she headed to the showers.

She was learning the terms and etiquette, at least. Working as a miko had made her a natural at picking up manners and rituals, and in kendo there were a lot of them. One of her earliest mistakes had been referring to the bamboo practice swords as bokken out loud… that one had earned her a ferocious glare from Ibuki-sensei and a tide of mocking laughter from the rest of the class. It turned out that bokken were much harder, wooden blades only used for practicing kata techniques; using them for sparring would leave the kendoka with far worse than aches and bruises, even with the heavy armor and robes. The correct term for the bamboo blades was shinai, and they hurt significantly less when you were struck with them. Less, but they still hurt.

In addition to the swords, there was of course the armor, or bogu. Consisting of the men facemask, hood, and shoulder guards; the hard and rigid do chest protector, the tare flaps worn at her waist, and the bulky kote gloves, which felt to Kagami like winter mittens, it had taken the better part of a week just to learn to move in that get-up. All of that was worn in addition to a very thick keiko gi jacket and traditional baggy hakama trousers. Almost all these were dark-colored and trapped heat easily, so an extended practice session often felt to her like being confined in a sauna. Showers had become a minor luxury for her; never before had she appreciated how good a cascade of cold water could make her feel.

She emerged from the girls' locker room changed into her school uniform, rubbing her face with a towel as she shouldered her equipment bag. The sky was already pink, on the verge of turning purple, and she could hear crows cawing to each other in the distance.

It's almost our birthday, she thought to herself wistfully, missing the sight of Tsukasa's smiling face coming to greet her as she began the lonely walk to the bus that would take her to the train station. It couldn't be avoided, of course. Kendo classes had thrown their schedule into chaos, and there was now simply no way both twins could ride home together at the same time. Tsukasa had started taking the early train home with Konata after their last afternoon class let out… Miyuki was now riding with them too, despite the fact that she lived in the Tokyo Metropolitan area, far out of the way of the train route. Despite the inconvenience, she was doing it anyway, so Tsukasa wouldn't feel lonely… Kagami was grateful for that. Funny, she had been seeing far more of Miyuki lately than usual. They were close friends, sure, but Miyuki had always been just a little… aloof.

Aloof. Like Homura.

Damn it. Kagami stopped in her tracks and shut her eyes tight. No matter how hard she tried, she kept thinking of Homura at the least opportune moments. Homura was still there, two seats back from her in the classroom, though they hadn't spoken a word or even looked at each other since that awful morning. Homura was still invading her dreams at night, doing things that made her wake up wet with perspiration. Even when she wasn't present, Homura came to mind whenever she saw the white furry creature that had taken up residence in her room, though he tried to keep out of sight for the most part.

At least part of the reason Kagami had taken up kendo lessons was to get a reaction out of her. She had been sure the news would shatter that horrible stoic attitude of hers; quite the contrary, she was just as indifferent to that as anything else, Kyubey had told her so. She had almost quit the club then… but no, she promised her father and herself that she would stick it out, Homura or no Homura. The pain and exhaustion didn't matter, what mattered was doing something, making herself feel like she was readying for the fight against the Demons. When and if they came for her and Tsukasa, she could at least make them regret it.

Hiiragi Household, Takanomiya

One Hour Later

"I'm home," Kagami called out as she shut the door behind her. It was almost six o'clock, but the house was unusually silent and empty. She supposed that her parents and older sisters were out running errands, or in Inori and Matsuri's cases, at classmates' houses cramming for exams. Tsukasa was home, though: Kagami saw her shoes lined up neatly in the genkai, next to her own that she had just placed down, and another pair, slightly larger…

Ah, Miyuki. They must be having a study session or something. Shrugging, she set down her bags and stepped into her slippers. "Tsukasa? I'm home," she called out again.

There was no answer.

Is she asleep?she thought. No, can't be, not if Miyuki's here. She could be in the bath… but that would be kind of rude. The shower? No, I don't hear any water running… Frowning, Kagami started up the stairs. "Tsukasa?"

Then she heard it, muffled through the door and upper floor but unmistakable: her sister's voice sighed.

Kagami climbed the stairs faster. Damn it, she's probably got her headphones on or something. Letting out a sigh of her own, she emerged from the stairwell and walked to Tsukasa's bedroom door. Sliding it open, she started, "Tsukasa, didn't you-"

At first, she didn't know what she was seeing. Then, when she did figure it out, it refused to register for several seconds… the image before her simply made no sense, no sense at all. So she just stood there in the doorway as her mind ground to a halt…

Tsukasa was sitting sideways on her bed, her legs dangling over the side, spread wide apart. The shirt of her school uniform was pulled up almost to the collar, her bra was caught its folds. White lace was visible inside her crumpled blue skirt, which was loose around her left ankle. One of her sister's hands was clasped to her breast… she squeezed and let out another, much louder sigh, totally unaware of Kagami's presence. Her other hand was on the head of the person who was down on both knees in front of her, doing something that was making Tsukasa squirm… her fingers were gently running through that person's long mane of pink hair, which obscured most of them from view.

Pink hair.

Pink hair.

Pink hair.

Tsukasa. And Miyuki.

Something clicked over in Kagami's mind. Putting a hand to her mouth in horrified surprise, her eyes wide as saucers, she shrieked, "Tsukasa?"

Tsukasa cracked open one eye, saw her sister standing there watching… and screamed out loud.

The door slammed shut so hard it skipped its groove. Kagami ran for the safety of her own room, pale as a sheet, thinking she was going to be sick at any moment. That image stayed burned in her mind as if placed there by a brand… She heaved as she threw her own door shut, collapsing against it in a sudden cold sweat. It wouldn't go away, that image wouldn't go away…

Tsukasa. And Miyuki.

Kagami reeled, her world spinning out of control. How? How was this possible? How could her sweet, innocent, airheaded little sister and one of her best friends be-

No. It's not possible.

Tsukasa. And Miyuki. Doing that.

It's gotta be some kind of mistake. I must be having a nightmare, those two would never-

Tsukasa. And Miyuki. Doing that. Doing things.

It can't be real, she thought desperately, her stomach churning itself into knots. It can't be real. Has to be a dream.

Tsukasa. And Miyuki. Doing that. Doing things, to each other.

An unwelcome voice entered her mind, the last voice she wanted to hear at the moment. Kyubey appeared in his usual spot in the windowsill, cocking his head to the side, wearing that damned smile… Kagami? Is something wrong?

"Shut up!" she screamed at him aloud, beyond caring if Tsukasa heard. Of course she wouldn't hear, not if she and Miyuki were still…

Doing that. Doing things, to each other...

Kyubey watched her, fascinated, as she hugged her knees and began to cry from sheer exhaustion, a few dry heaves slipping in between breaths. What extraordinarily strange creatures humans were.

END OF CHAPTER 13