Author's Notes: So I've noticed that Raven's fighting style in canon is often compared to Iaido/Iaijutsu, primarily due to the fact she sheaths her weapon to change blades (I'm sticking with Dust coating for now. Carrying that many extra blades is probably cumbersome. Plus, who makes them all?). I wanted to delve further into that, especially considering how, as of right now, she's not exactly a 'serene' or 'harmonious' person. If I get something wrong, forgive me.
Some Definitions:
Iaido – The art of sword drawing. Developed after the Japanese government banned the wearing of swords in 1868. Katas begin and end with the sword sheathed. Students fight against an imaginary opponent. Often emphasizes moral, philosophical and spiritual aspects.
Iaijutsu – The art of drawing a sword in combat, especially to deflect a surprise attack. Part of the martial training of the samurai during the feudal period.
Zanshin – the sense of lingering awareness of one's surroundings
Ma-ai – the critical distance between opponents
Ma – the way something or someone moves through space and time
I Will Not Scatter
Chapter 29
Greenhouse
Deidrick had always been unconventional by hunter standards. Not because he was a faunus. Not because he was openly transgender. Not because he didn't know his Semblance. Deidrick was unconventional because of how he fought, against both Grimm and people.
Raven's mentor approached combat like a dance, almost in a meditative state. He flowed like liquid, and could explode from lazy grace into bursts of frightening energy and attack speed. However, his attacks were always calculated, harmonious, and lacking in savagery.
One would have never suspected it by looking at him. With his horns, scars, weapon and tattoos, a person would look at Deidrick and think he was barbaric, all violence and aggression in a fight. He always fought shirtless, proudly displaying the scars on his chest and the tattoos that spiraled down his arms, back and neck. His appearance reminded her of people back home. His attitude towards fighting did not, and it was honestly disconcerting at times.
She had never been able to shake him. When they had first begun training together, Raven would try to get under his skin. Intimidate him, test him, get him angry or, well, anything. It never worked. He was always serene, patient, even kind. She had been annoyed initially, but grudgingly admired his sense of inner peace. Eventually, as she began to trust him more and admittedly relax in her attitude towards hunters, she worried less about knowing his weaknesses; instead she focused on the dance.
He also preferred to pick places off campus for their bouts instead of Beacon's arenas; sometimes it was Everfall Forrest. Sometimes the rooftops in South Vale, or the Industrial sector. This morning he had requested they meet at the massive greenhouse in downtown Vale. They wouldn't be using any Dust today, focusing only on their swordsmanship, so the public would be sparred any unnecessary damages.
Deidrick was already there when she arrived. She found him kneeling on the grass in the arboreal section that showcased the massive, pale trees imported from Menagerie. His golden eyes were closed, dark green aura rippling in slow, concentrated spirals as he breathed. The brutal, toothy great sword he used as a weapon lay on the ground in front of his knees. Raven didn't say anything. Instead, she knelt on the grass several feet in front of him, staying on the balls of her feet; she took her sword and sheath and laid it before her knees.
Raven didn't practice most kata, preferring to fight actual people instead of imaginary opponents. Some people found the focus on forms and precision to be a form of meditation in itself; such as Nwyfre, Deidrick or even Summer and Taiyang. Raven had always struggled to find it beneficial besides the obvious and eventually accepted that she likely never would. Like Qrow, she didn't see the fighting arts as a way to inner enlightenment or balance; she saw it as a means to an end, and that end was to kill something or someone. Anything else was trying to tie a ribbon around brutality; to give it a sense of greater purpose and meaning. Yet, brutality was brutality, no matter how pretty you made it look.
She paused, placing her palms in her lap for a moment. Deidrick's eyes were still closed. If not for his aura, she would have thought he was asleep sitting up. Placing her palms on the ground in front of her, she gave her weapon a bow, lips twitching upwards wryly. In a way, to bow to one's weapon was to bow to oneself. The idea had always amused her.
She picked her sheath back up, returning it to its place on her hip. There was no wind in the greenhouse. However, there were a startling variety birds; as the sun was rising, they had begun chirping and singing happily.
Raven brought her right leg up, taking a knee as she placed her left hand on her sheath and her right on her pommel. Deidrick still had not moved or acknowledged she was present. She took a breath, exhaled, and sprang forward, drawing her sword her sword and bring it around in a swipe.
His sword blocked her strike, the downward facing teeth of the weapon trying to snag the curving edge of her own blade. Deidrick had leapt to his feet, grabbed his weapon and blocked her with lightning speed. Even so, he was smiling serenely as she grinned fiercely at him.
"Morning," she said.
"Good morning," he replied.
She broke away, spinning her sword to strike in an upwards sweep. He blocked that as well. Deidrick's range was greater than hers; not only was his weapon longer, it could transform into a bladed whip, capable of turning the area surrounding him into a veritable cyclone of razors. So when she fought him, she typically tried to keep him on the defensive. His guard, however, was a veritable force-field.
She struck again, twice, three times, twirling and stabbing as she tried to press him back against a tree; he blocked her almost lazily every time. Finally, the teeth of his sword caught her blade again as she pushed in close. He snorted, and to her surprise, head-butted her. Her aura flared as it caught his horns and she retreated a few steps, sword still raised.
He paused, smiling mischievously as she blinked at him. He didn't move towards her though, instead taking slow, measured steps to the right. Raven sheathed her sword, allowing herself to pretend she was changing Dust coats. Her quick draw was something she practiced religiously, kata or no; it was essential with her weapon, and the style that she practiced: to be constantly aware of her surroundings in the event of a surprise attack, and to be able to change Dust coatings in the middle of battle to suit her tactics.
Suddenly, Deidrick came at her in an overhead strike; Raven darted forward, drawing her blade back one handed and overhead as she went forward on her left knee. Her right arm jarred as it caught his strike, but his lower half was now exposed due to her blade's angle. If she had been using Dust, she would have triggered the blue coating and allowed the ice to pierce her opponent; instead she stabbed downward, forcing him to deflect with his aura and back away.
She sprang up as he moved forward, blade stabbing towards her stomach. She darted around the attack, drawing her sword up overhead and parallel to her form as she struck at his unguarded hands. His aura caught that as well. She smirked.
Then there was a change in his posture and suddenly the air was a sweeping blur of flashing metal as he stopped fucking around; his sword was practically cutting figure eights through the air. Raven dodged, blocked, and struck back as fiercely as she could; if she let him transform his weapon into the bladed whip, she would never get close to him again without Dust and luck.
Deidrick brought his back leg around, swinging his sword towards her head in unison. She lifted her own sword to block it, however, he had pulled the great sword back and was stabbing forward; her aura sparked crimson, preventing a full impact as she hissed in irritation.
He pulled back, making a swing for her shoulder. She recognized it for another feint, instead blocking his strike when it reversed and tried to come from another angle; her arms jarred with force of the blow, but her aura strengthened her limbs.
She broke away, twisting her blade in a strike aimed at his side; he blocked. With a burst of energy, Raven began raining as many strikes against her mentor as possible, Deidrick striking back with equal fervor. They spiraled across the grass, weapons clashing again and again. They stayed evenly matched. No matter how hard she tried to coral him, or stay in close, she couldn't.
Deidrick was actually being more aggressive in his techniques today, which was surprising. The headbutt had thrown her for a loop, but that was probably his point to begin with. She was being predictable. Trying not to over think it, she focused on the fight instead. Her limbs were burning pleasantly, sweat beading as her aura regulated her breathing and muscle stamina.
Finally, after what was probably half an hour or so, the combatants drew back. Raven was panting, smiling with the fierce joy that only sword-fighting ever really brought her. Deidrick was sweating himself, finally, his darker complexion beading as he smiled warmly back.
"You're stamina is getting much better," Deidrick said after a moment, bowing to her.
She hesitated for only a second before bowing back. She knew it was rude not to, but it still caught her off guard. Bowing to hunters was still something she was still largely set against. However, she had come to respect Deidrick as a person, and returned the gesture sincerely.
"Thank you," she replied, sheathing her blade fluidly. "You always manage to keep things interesting."
He chuckled, stretching expansively as he shook the sweat from his brow. He took a seat on the ground again, continuing to stretch his limbs out. After a moment, he patted the ground besides him and Raven approached him, taking a seat on the grass. He offered her his water bottle and she took a grateful swig before returning it.
"Do you mind if I point some things out?" he said after a moment, having drained the bottle after her. "Or ask some questions?"
"By all means."
"Your fighting style has many elements of iaido and iaijutsu."
Raven shrugged.
"Sure."
"But your nature fights against the principle most of the time."
Raven raised an eyebrow; she wasn't expecting more psychoanalysis. She had invited him to make comments, however, so she had brought this on herself.
"I wouldn't necessarily say that's true," she muttered. "Besides, fighting is fighting. I don't have to embody some spiritual aspect of 'the way' to use techniques to my benefit."
"I'm not criticizing. I'm just making observations," he said lightly. "Why did you choose that style, if I may ask?"
"It's one of the forms I was initially trained in. I didn't really choose it necessarily."
"I see. Was it because your teacher thought it would benefit you?"
Raven squinted at him slightly.
"Possibly. She never really made a big deal about it," Raven said. "Why?"
"Well, iaijutsu as a martial art is several things. One of which is the concept of winning before the sword is even drawn. The more…spiritual components, I suppose, are concentration or presence and balance."
"Deidrick, are you saying I am unbalanced?" Raven drawled. He laughed pleasantly.
"No. I'm saying that your motives for fighting and your school of swordsmanship are very different in principle."
"Uh huh ok. You're one to talk."
"I know," he said, raising a hand. "I'm very guilty of that myself."
"And I do not fight like I have my back to the wall."
"Mentally you do."
"Dust, what are you doing? Studying my psychological weaknesses and writing them down in a notebook somewhere?" she droned sardonically. "'Today, I learned that Raven does not like peanut butter; I suspect it is because she nearly choked on a peanut at the age of ten, thus scarring her emotionally forever.'"
"I'll be sure to write that down," he laughed.
The comment, though a joke, did raise her suspicions as she remembered what Nwyfre had said about the Academy studying them. She wondered if that's what Ozpin got up to with all of their combat videos.
"Mmm."
"Anyways," he folded his hands together as he drew his legs up. "I just found it interesting. Speaking from experience, I find that using an opponent's judgements of you against them can be invaluable."
"You aren't wrong," she admitted, kicking a leg out as she sprawled on the grass. The sun was beginning to peak through the trees and glass overhead, tinging everything pink and orange.
"So what was it you wanted to improve?" he asked. He had pulled a stalk of grass free and stuck it between his teeth.
She waved her foot back and forth in contemplation.
"I want to…branch out. I feel my attacks are too predictable at times, though that might just be me. And I my footwork; I get knocked over a lot. And I think I'm too slow, at least half the time."
He gave her an appraising look, one that was both perceptive and compassionate at once. It reminded her of a certain headmaster, and was occasionally unsettling.
"I don't think you're predictable, necessarily, just rash."
"Thanks."
"Your footwork can easily be improved upon. As for speed, all you can do is practice; have you tried sparring Summer with speed as the emphasis?" he asked easily.
A memory of her being pinned came unbidden to her mind; only instead of the irritation or annoyance the memory normally brought, it summoned another rather new feeling entirely. Her neck grew hot and she glanced off.
"Not recently."
"Hmm. You could always ask."
"Yea."
She played with the grass by her fingers, feeling distracted. After a moment she glanced up.
"Can I ask you something that's probably unintentionally ignorant?" Raven asked.
Deidrick gave her a humorous look. She figured he dealt with a lot of those.
"Sure, why not?" he chuckled.
He had placed his folded shirt the grass before them, the movement making his chest scars flex. Sometimes she caught herself staring at them; not out of a sense of maliciousness, or gawking, but out of appreciation. He seemed comfortable with them, proud even. She wished she could feel that way about her own; or Qrow about his.
"Um. So, I'm trying to learn more about faunus things in general," she started, feeling surprisingly bashful. He smiled, and it reached his eyes. "Like culture, and societal differences. I don't always know what's appropriate to ask, though."
"Well, the fact that you care is a good start," he smiled gently. "And caring is really the only part that matters. The rest typically follows suit. What did you want to ask?"
"A few things," she said looking about as she tried to phrase things in her head. "Summer was talking to me about how she had openly dated several people at once, and how the people at her school were dicks about it because she was faunus. But I was curious, if that's more of a faunus culture thing or an individual preference thing?"
Deidrick smiled mischievously at her.
"Oh?"
She gave him a flat stare. His smile widened after a moment; she rolled her eyes.
"The word describing that is polyamory," he said after a minute. "And it's found in both human and faunus cultures. The difference though is probably how our species perceives our social structures to begin with. Human cultures are typically more ridged and defined than faunus ones; and that permeates everything, including your relationships. Morality and social status is also closely intertwined with human relationships. Not so in most faunus cultures. It's admittedly a more common practice among us for that reason."
"Ok. Then are those things based on what type of faunus a person is, or does that matter?" she asked, pulling a blade of grass loose.
"Mmm. Well. It's kind of a sensitive subject actually."
"Oh," she said. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he smiled. "It's just difficult to describe, at times. Our animal aspects do color our perspectives and personal quirks, but not necessarily in a stereotypical way. A cat faunus doesn't have to like pushing things off shelves or acting aloof. A lizard faunus might not be lazy when it's cold. A fox faunus might not be sly. A rabbit might not be anxious."
He waved his hand, the grass stalk between his teeth shaking.
"These…tropes, essentially, are often projected on us by each other and by humans," Deidrick continued. "Sometimes a faunus might act in a stereotypical way, because that's what others expect to see. Or the reverse of that, a faunus might not give into an action because they think it's 'stereotypical'. But in human societies, when a faunus bucks a perceived stereotype, there can be backlash. From humans, because categorizing us makes us palatable; and sometimes by other faunus, who are afraid to be themselves."
Raven glanced up. The green house glass was misting from keeping the cold out and the heat in. Green houses were like magic to her, because they spat in the face of the seasons. Vale could be buried in ten feet of snow, and here they were; warm, and surrounded by plants, birds and butterflies.
"So stereotypes might describe a wolf faunus as being hierarchal and monogamous. But that's trying to define someone like Summer as being the sum of someone else's idea of what she should be. Our animal aspects are personal, intimate parts of our identities; but they are not the entirety of our beings."
"So how do I know if…something's a faunus thing or if something's a Summer thing without sounding like a dick?"
"Haha, how do you mean?"
"Well, I. She gets really worried that," she paused, surprised she was bringing this up. "That I'm going to judge her, I think. Because people have before. And I want to understand, but I'm afraid of asking the wrong thing or the wrong way."
"I see. I recommend reading up on things, then," he said. "Beacon actually has very good selection of books on our cultures and biology. I can give you a list if you'd like."
Raven's mouth twisted upwards as she met his gaze.
"That'd be nice."
"Cool," he hummed. "Now, did you want to get another round in? We can work on your footing."
Raven nodded, climbing to her feet and offering a hand to pull him up.
"One of these days I'm going to knock you over. It's on the agenda."
He laughed, cracking his neck twice as she raised her eyebrows.
"You'll have to try a lot harder then."
