I might as well continue. I've got some big plans in the meantime. Now,
history buffs, don't get angry with one of your own kind: I've done some
serious research and found that Hajime Saito was a real person, though he
had no secret friendship with any massive Nordic soldier. And Tomas
Wilkholm wasn't real, and neither were Dragomir Yanalimov or Mishazuma
Marihama. But they ARE MINE. Do remember:
Rurouni Kenshin, on the other hand, is not. I do not own, "dominate," or "school" it in anyway whatsoever. Moving on:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 3: Big Swede In Little Tokyo
The huge, sleeping form in its own personal train car yawned loudly and stretched in its seat. Wilkholm opened his eyes to the mid-morning light and blinked them several times until they adjusted. He looked around, finding that his baggage was intact and the doors had been left open. Tomas got up, made sure he didn't hit his head on the ceiling, and picked up his four small boulders of suitcases. Stepping out, the foreigner inquired to a timid conductor as to why no one had woken him up.
"Well..." the cringing employee began. The knight was puzzled at first, noticed the difference in their heights, and figured it out.
"It's not like I'd try to kill you for waking me up," he reassured. "How long has this train been at Tokyo station, anyway?"
"A-about f-five hours, sir. Th-there had been a f-few delays. I- it's about noon. W-we're v-very sorry!"
"Eh, I needed the rest. All I required was to get to Tokyo, and here I am. Have a nice day!"
The station was much smaller than Kyoto's, but let in more of Japan's scenic beauty. The sky was blue through the branches of trees outside the terminal, and a gentle summer breeze blew by. Wilkholm set down the massive luggage, scratched his head, and stretched once more while drawing the attention of several locals. They stared as he reloaded his cargo and headed down the road towards downtown Tokyo, their eyes locked on his massive pike. He'd actually slept with on his back, and did often. It had its own version of a sheath, which was good for occasions when his impulses overcame common sense.
"It's a nice day today," the Swede remarked as he stepped into the busy marketplace. Suddenly, there was a great rumbling in the space immediately around Tomas. He put a great hand to his stomach. "Whoa, I'm hungry!"
Wilkholm headed down the street until he found a sign that read "The Akabeko." It was a restaurant, judging by the smells coming from inside.
"Nice. Now to just drop as much conspicuousness as I can, which can't be too much..."
The foreigner, noticing even more astonished gazes from the residents, dropped the four great suitcases beside the door and undid some harnesses under his coat. The knight gently set the great pike, still in its sheath, down on the dusty street. He just hoped that no one would notice the five other weapons on him. The Swede's coat hid the two swords at his left side well enough. Wilkholm stepped inside and ignored shocked glances until he was waited on. The waitress was a young girl, barely twelve years old. He raised an eyebrow at how high her voice was, as well as how she didn't stutter as she spoke.
"Hello. My name is Tsubame, and I'll be taking your order today. Please follow me."
When the two reached a booth, Tomas had to move the table over to get in, but eventually found a comfortable position on the floor, being somewhat versed in Japanese social graces. The relatively tiny waitress handed him a menu.
"Would you care for some tea while you order, sir?" she asked. The massive soldier was the same height sitting as the small Tokyo girl was standing, but he still smiled at her.
"I'd like that, Miss Tsubame."
She returned the friendly expression, and headed off to get a kettle and cup. Tomas produced a piece of paper and pen from his coat. He'd been working on a letter to his wife in Sweden. The nobleman read it to himself as he wrote in Swedish during the wait. He'd already made up his mind as to what he'd order.
"Dearest Elena,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. I've arrived safely in Japan, and I'm spending my first morning in Tokyo. The largest people all gape at my height, but the smallest don't seem to notice. This strikes me as odd, but the young are good judges of character. Anyway, I've been missing you since the very moment I left Stockholm. I had a dream about us last night. You're what I try to think about in light of these dire and grim events. My meeting with Hajime Saito in Kyoto last night didn't go very well. He's become a cold man, though he means well. Mr. Saito doesn't act like he cares at all about my mission., and is just following orders. He apparently thinks the idea of a Russian rebel and a Japanese swordsman banding together to start a war is preposterous. Stranger things have happened."
Just then, Tsubame returned and poured him some piping hot tea. Wilkholm folded the letter up and put it away with the pen. He looked at the diminutive waitress, and cocked his head at her.
"I find it odd," he began. "That the tallest men of this city seem to cower in my shadow while you treat me like any other person."
"Err...should I?" she asked, confused.
"Heh. You've got a good heart, Tsubame. Not enough people like you in this world. It strikes me funny, though, that you're not...uh...intimidated by me."
She giggled and raised a finger.
"You remind me of Sanosuke Sagara, mister. Only you're better behaved."
"Hmm...Sanosuke Sagara...I've heard of him. Not quite sure who he is, though," the knight pondered.
"That'd be me," a husky voice sounded suddenly from beside the waitress. A reasonably tall man with large muscles and equally large hair held up by a red headband stood outside the booth. His outfit was entirely white, and he wore his shirt open. On the back, the symbol for "bad" was written. "Seems I've got quite the reputation these days."
He extended a hand to Wilkholm, who shook it in greeting.
"The name's Tomas Wilkholm. Tomas will do fine for the both of you," the Swede explained.
"Call me Sano, and I see you've met Tsubame," the tallish Japanese man replied as he remained standing. "You look like a pretty strong guy. Was that your stuff outside?"
"Sure was. You're no slouch either, as I've heard from someone you know a little too well, apparently."
"Huh? Who're you referring to?"
"Hajime Saito."
"And here I was having a good day," Sano complained, rubbing the old shoulder wound he had gotten from the former Shinsengumi Squad leader. Suddenly, all three jerked their heads towards the sound of a scream and dishes breaking.
"Miss Tae!" Tsubame squeaked, pointing towards the entrance.
"What in the..." Sagara exclaimed as he ran towards the clatter. "Tsubame, stay back!"
Sanosuke headed out of Wilkholm's range of vision. He was shocked to find that Tae Seikihara, a woman who worked at the Akabeko, was backed against the wall with a knife held to her throat, a broken plate on the floor nearby. A group of thugs had shown up to rain on everyone's parade.
"Show us where you keep the money!" the dagger-wielding ringleader demanded of the horrified manager. Sano arrived, ready to land a fist, and prepared to pick up one of the cronies. Thankfully, he caught himself with a hand barely an inch from a man's throat, seeing that they had taken a hostage.
"Hey, who do you think you are?!" the ex-fighter-for-higher demanded.
"That's not for you to know!" the ugly-faced boss spat. "Now show us the money or she gets it!"
"Do what he says!" Tae squealed, trying to shrink back against the wall. The owner started to go for the safe, but there was a flash of blue and yellow, and the thief holding a hostage felt icy metal against his temple.
"Back off," Tomas ordered coldly. "You fools think you can just do whatever with no apparent consequence! Well, you're looking at one."
The leader froze, his underlings frightened out of their minds. Wilkholm decided that he'd explain a little bit of his revolver's make information.
"This is a Stockholm Special. Only the highest-ranking officers in the Swedish military can even afford one. Big, ain't she? Works pretty well for me. This is a revolver. I don't have to reload it for ten shots. That means I can put ten bullets in your head, and the lady would walk away unharmed. I'm not going to tell you again: let...her...go."
The crook put his knife down. The foreigner kept his firearm in place.
"The rest of you can drop your weapons."
Several other blades were cautiously placed on the floor. However, one of the thugs tried to draw a gun on the knight. Keeping his Stockholm Special on the leader's temple, Wilkholm shot the weapon out of the intruder's hand. Everyone looked in the direction of the rifle on Tomas' side, aimed towards the offender, who was now holding his damaged hand. Tae took the moment of astonishment as an opportunity to get behind Sano, who was cemented to the right of the gun-toting Swede. No one moved for the few minutes prior to the police arriving and taking the men and their weapons away. The foreigner finally broke the silence as Tae finally emerged from behind the ex-fighter-for-higher.
"Thugs like that just never learn. They think they're so tough, but once you threaten to rough them up, they go to pieces," he explained. "Makes them nice and gullible. The Stockholm Special only has eight chambers. They'll be in for awhile."
"Gee, thanks, Mister...umm..." Tae began, blushing under her bandana.
"Wilkholm. Tomas Wilkholm. You can call me Tomas, Miss Seikihara."
Everyone gasped. Wilkholm glanced around to see what was the matter. In a few moments, he realized that he'd brought about some dramatic irony.
"I heard someone say her last name on my way in, and I saw Miss..."
"Err... most everybody 'round here calls me Tae. That was a pretty formal customer. He insists on using everyone's last name."
"I see."
The knight turned back to Sano.
"Are there normally ruffians like those around these parts?" he asked the Japanese brawler.
"It's been awhile. I cleaned out a few when I first came here, although my set actually put up half a fight. Tokyo's a pretty peaceful city," Sagara explained. "Those guys were certainly weirdos. Well, I'm glad to have you around, Tomas. I was just saying 'hi,' and now Tae's going to remind me of my T-A-B."
"I heard that!" the Akebeko employee snarled.
"Anyway, I've gotta run. I'm renting out at the Kamiya Dojo right outside of downtown Tokyo. You can't miss it. You could stay there while you're here. I've got a few friends who'd probably enjoy meeting a foreign fighter like yourself. I couldn't help but notice your accent. See ya!"
Sano headed out into the street and was gone. Wilkholm proceed to assist Tsubame and Tae to clean up the broken dishes, and promptly headed back to his booth, the two in tow.
"Hey, I appreciate the help. I'm gonna let ya eat on us," the older of the women offered.
"I'll take you up on that, but I'm not sure Tsubame can handle the order I've got in mind," the knight gallantly accepted.
"I've served a sumo wrestler before! I'll consider this a challenge!" Tsubame explained with a raised finger, trying hard not to laugh. Tomas hadn't eaten breakfast, and it was almost time for lunch. He ordered as much meat as he could, and by the time he was done, the Akebeko was out of a few ingredients. Wilkholm headed out once he'd consumed nearly ten courses, leaving Tsubame and Tae stunned. Outside, the Swede reattached the pike to his back and picked up his four massive suitcases. He paid a few local boys to watch after his massive baggage, and vanished into the forest outside of the city. The knight found a good-sized clearing far from civilization, and took his coat and pike off.
"Now it's time to prepare for tonight. Wearing myself out could be the best thing right now. From what I hear, Himura's really fast, but not too strong," the foreigner planned. He felt around for his weapons. On his right side were his guns and a large axe. Illegal as they were, his swords were also intact. One was a large, claymore-like blade, the other a sturdy Swedish rapier. It was unusually long and thick for that type of sword, but Wilkholm planned to use it to fight the Battosai come night. The knight practiced first with his rapier, then his claymore, and his axe after that. With each, his speed was incredible. He could barely be seen with the naked eye. Finally, he took the sheath from his pike and lifted it off the ground with reasonably little effort. Swinging the massive weapon, Tomas wasn't quite a blur, but still moved with great velocity. He began to bring down trees in his metallic rampage. Great ditches would suddenly appear in the ground as he passed.
"I've not lost too much over my trip. I'd say I'm doing alright."
Wilkholm alternated with between the four weapons for hours, stopping to rest only thrice. He finally quit, put his jacket back on, reattached the pike to its sheath, slipped the masked weapon onto his back and redid the restraints. It was getting dark, and the knight was hungry once more. He found his great suitcases intact, and paid the extremely bored youths handsomely. Guarding those bags was a matter of national security, after all. From there, Tomas visited the Akebeko once more, and this time was made to pay for his meal. A few hundred yen poorer, the Swede set off for the Kamiya Dojo, but stopped in the woods for about half an hour to let his dinner digest, and to run through his strategy.
"Guess I just try not to kill him. Then again, I hear that his movement techniques are referred to as 'God-like Speed.' Best be careful for my own sake as well. I'm pretty sure I can get a good confrontation going without much talking. I'll leave my stuff here for now."
The knight deposited his pike, guns, axe, claymore, and suitcases in the forest, and headed back towards the road. Only the rapier would be necessary for the fight. The Kamiya Dojo was just up a flight of steps. Wilkholm had located it easily enough, as Sagara had said. It was dark enough for even one such as himself to move about reasonably unnoticed. Tomas climbed the steps and vanished into the bush nearby. Kenshin Himura was inside the high-walled gates of the dojo, doing a few last-minute chores in the open courtyard. The Swede couldn't hear anyone else, and chose to make his move. Without the weight of the pike on his back, he easily leapt from the shrubbery and over the wall in one great motion. The foreigner landed with surprisingly little impact, drew his rapier, and rushed towards the redheaded samurai with a blinding speed that few besides the Battosai could even comprehend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So, whatcha think? Anybody? Anyway, if you did happen to read this, I'd really, really, really like a review. It's long, sure enough, but it's easier to not break it into two chapters. The action starts up soon enough. Brace yourselves... and wait.
Rurouni Kenshin, on the other hand, is not. I do not own, "dominate," or "school" it in anyway whatsoever. Moving on:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 3: Big Swede In Little Tokyo
The huge, sleeping form in its own personal train car yawned loudly and stretched in its seat. Wilkholm opened his eyes to the mid-morning light and blinked them several times until they adjusted. He looked around, finding that his baggage was intact and the doors had been left open. Tomas got up, made sure he didn't hit his head on the ceiling, and picked up his four small boulders of suitcases. Stepping out, the foreigner inquired to a timid conductor as to why no one had woken him up.
"Well..." the cringing employee began. The knight was puzzled at first, noticed the difference in their heights, and figured it out.
"It's not like I'd try to kill you for waking me up," he reassured. "How long has this train been at Tokyo station, anyway?"
"A-about f-five hours, sir. Th-there had been a f-few delays. I- it's about noon. W-we're v-very sorry!"
"Eh, I needed the rest. All I required was to get to Tokyo, and here I am. Have a nice day!"
The station was much smaller than Kyoto's, but let in more of Japan's scenic beauty. The sky was blue through the branches of trees outside the terminal, and a gentle summer breeze blew by. Wilkholm set down the massive luggage, scratched his head, and stretched once more while drawing the attention of several locals. They stared as he reloaded his cargo and headed down the road towards downtown Tokyo, their eyes locked on his massive pike. He'd actually slept with on his back, and did often. It had its own version of a sheath, which was good for occasions when his impulses overcame common sense.
"It's a nice day today," the Swede remarked as he stepped into the busy marketplace. Suddenly, there was a great rumbling in the space immediately around Tomas. He put a great hand to his stomach. "Whoa, I'm hungry!"
Wilkholm headed down the street until he found a sign that read "The Akabeko." It was a restaurant, judging by the smells coming from inside.
"Nice. Now to just drop as much conspicuousness as I can, which can't be too much..."
The foreigner, noticing even more astonished gazes from the residents, dropped the four great suitcases beside the door and undid some harnesses under his coat. The knight gently set the great pike, still in its sheath, down on the dusty street. He just hoped that no one would notice the five other weapons on him. The Swede's coat hid the two swords at his left side well enough. Wilkholm stepped inside and ignored shocked glances until he was waited on. The waitress was a young girl, barely twelve years old. He raised an eyebrow at how high her voice was, as well as how she didn't stutter as she spoke.
"Hello. My name is Tsubame, and I'll be taking your order today. Please follow me."
When the two reached a booth, Tomas had to move the table over to get in, but eventually found a comfortable position on the floor, being somewhat versed in Japanese social graces. The relatively tiny waitress handed him a menu.
"Would you care for some tea while you order, sir?" she asked. The massive soldier was the same height sitting as the small Tokyo girl was standing, but he still smiled at her.
"I'd like that, Miss Tsubame."
She returned the friendly expression, and headed off to get a kettle and cup. Tomas produced a piece of paper and pen from his coat. He'd been working on a letter to his wife in Sweden. The nobleman read it to himself as he wrote in Swedish during the wait. He'd already made up his mind as to what he'd order.
"Dearest Elena,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. I've arrived safely in Japan, and I'm spending my first morning in Tokyo. The largest people all gape at my height, but the smallest don't seem to notice. This strikes me as odd, but the young are good judges of character. Anyway, I've been missing you since the very moment I left Stockholm. I had a dream about us last night. You're what I try to think about in light of these dire and grim events. My meeting with Hajime Saito in Kyoto last night didn't go very well. He's become a cold man, though he means well. Mr. Saito doesn't act like he cares at all about my mission., and is just following orders. He apparently thinks the idea of a Russian rebel and a Japanese swordsman banding together to start a war is preposterous. Stranger things have happened."
Just then, Tsubame returned and poured him some piping hot tea. Wilkholm folded the letter up and put it away with the pen. He looked at the diminutive waitress, and cocked his head at her.
"I find it odd," he began. "That the tallest men of this city seem to cower in my shadow while you treat me like any other person."
"Err...should I?" she asked, confused.
"Heh. You've got a good heart, Tsubame. Not enough people like you in this world. It strikes me funny, though, that you're not...uh...intimidated by me."
She giggled and raised a finger.
"You remind me of Sanosuke Sagara, mister. Only you're better behaved."
"Hmm...Sanosuke Sagara...I've heard of him. Not quite sure who he is, though," the knight pondered.
"That'd be me," a husky voice sounded suddenly from beside the waitress. A reasonably tall man with large muscles and equally large hair held up by a red headband stood outside the booth. His outfit was entirely white, and he wore his shirt open. On the back, the symbol for "bad" was written. "Seems I've got quite the reputation these days."
He extended a hand to Wilkholm, who shook it in greeting.
"The name's Tomas Wilkholm. Tomas will do fine for the both of you," the Swede explained.
"Call me Sano, and I see you've met Tsubame," the tallish Japanese man replied as he remained standing. "You look like a pretty strong guy. Was that your stuff outside?"
"Sure was. You're no slouch either, as I've heard from someone you know a little too well, apparently."
"Huh? Who're you referring to?"
"Hajime Saito."
"And here I was having a good day," Sano complained, rubbing the old shoulder wound he had gotten from the former Shinsengumi Squad leader. Suddenly, all three jerked their heads towards the sound of a scream and dishes breaking.
"Miss Tae!" Tsubame squeaked, pointing towards the entrance.
"What in the..." Sagara exclaimed as he ran towards the clatter. "Tsubame, stay back!"
Sanosuke headed out of Wilkholm's range of vision. He was shocked to find that Tae Seikihara, a woman who worked at the Akabeko, was backed against the wall with a knife held to her throat, a broken plate on the floor nearby. A group of thugs had shown up to rain on everyone's parade.
"Show us where you keep the money!" the dagger-wielding ringleader demanded of the horrified manager. Sano arrived, ready to land a fist, and prepared to pick up one of the cronies. Thankfully, he caught himself with a hand barely an inch from a man's throat, seeing that they had taken a hostage.
"Hey, who do you think you are?!" the ex-fighter-for-higher demanded.
"That's not for you to know!" the ugly-faced boss spat. "Now show us the money or she gets it!"
"Do what he says!" Tae squealed, trying to shrink back against the wall. The owner started to go for the safe, but there was a flash of blue and yellow, and the thief holding a hostage felt icy metal against his temple.
"Back off," Tomas ordered coldly. "You fools think you can just do whatever with no apparent consequence! Well, you're looking at one."
The leader froze, his underlings frightened out of their minds. Wilkholm decided that he'd explain a little bit of his revolver's make information.
"This is a Stockholm Special. Only the highest-ranking officers in the Swedish military can even afford one. Big, ain't she? Works pretty well for me. This is a revolver. I don't have to reload it for ten shots. That means I can put ten bullets in your head, and the lady would walk away unharmed. I'm not going to tell you again: let...her...go."
The crook put his knife down. The foreigner kept his firearm in place.
"The rest of you can drop your weapons."
Several other blades were cautiously placed on the floor. However, one of the thugs tried to draw a gun on the knight. Keeping his Stockholm Special on the leader's temple, Wilkholm shot the weapon out of the intruder's hand. Everyone looked in the direction of the rifle on Tomas' side, aimed towards the offender, who was now holding his damaged hand. Tae took the moment of astonishment as an opportunity to get behind Sano, who was cemented to the right of the gun-toting Swede. No one moved for the few minutes prior to the police arriving and taking the men and their weapons away. The foreigner finally broke the silence as Tae finally emerged from behind the ex-fighter-for-higher.
"Thugs like that just never learn. They think they're so tough, but once you threaten to rough them up, they go to pieces," he explained. "Makes them nice and gullible. The Stockholm Special only has eight chambers. They'll be in for awhile."
"Gee, thanks, Mister...umm..." Tae began, blushing under her bandana.
"Wilkholm. Tomas Wilkholm. You can call me Tomas, Miss Seikihara."
Everyone gasped. Wilkholm glanced around to see what was the matter. In a few moments, he realized that he'd brought about some dramatic irony.
"I heard someone say her last name on my way in, and I saw Miss..."
"Err... most everybody 'round here calls me Tae. That was a pretty formal customer. He insists on using everyone's last name."
"I see."
The knight turned back to Sano.
"Are there normally ruffians like those around these parts?" he asked the Japanese brawler.
"It's been awhile. I cleaned out a few when I first came here, although my set actually put up half a fight. Tokyo's a pretty peaceful city," Sagara explained. "Those guys were certainly weirdos. Well, I'm glad to have you around, Tomas. I was just saying 'hi,' and now Tae's going to remind me of my T-A-B."
"I heard that!" the Akebeko employee snarled.
"Anyway, I've gotta run. I'm renting out at the Kamiya Dojo right outside of downtown Tokyo. You can't miss it. You could stay there while you're here. I've got a few friends who'd probably enjoy meeting a foreign fighter like yourself. I couldn't help but notice your accent. See ya!"
Sano headed out into the street and was gone. Wilkholm proceed to assist Tsubame and Tae to clean up the broken dishes, and promptly headed back to his booth, the two in tow.
"Hey, I appreciate the help. I'm gonna let ya eat on us," the older of the women offered.
"I'll take you up on that, but I'm not sure Tsubame can handle the order I've got in mind," the knight gallantly accepted.
"I've served a sumo wrestler before! I'll consider this a challenge!" Tsubame explained with a raised finger, trying hard not to laugh. Tomas hadn't eaten breakfast, and it was almost time for lunch. He ordered as much meat as he could, and by the time he was done, the Akebeko was out of a few ingredients. Wilkholm headed out once he'd consumed nearly ten courses, leaving Tsubame and Tae stunned. Outside, the Swede reattached the pike to his back and picked up his four massive suitcases. He paid a few local boys to watch after his massive baggage, and vanished into the forest outside of the city. The knight found a good-sized clearing far from civilization, and took his coat and pike off.
"Now it's time to prepare for tonight. Wearing myself out could be the best thing right now. From what I hear, Himura's really fast, but not too strong," the foreigner planned. He felt around for his weapons. On his right side were his guns and a large axe. Illegal as they were, his swords were also intact. One was a large, claymore-like blade, the other a sturdy Swedish rapier. It was unusually long and thick for that type of sword, but Wilkholm planned to use it to fight the Battosai come night. The knight practiced first with his rapier, then his claymore, and his axe after that. With each, his speed was incredible. He could barely be seen with the naked eye. Finally, he took the sheath from his pike and lifted it off the ground with reasonably little effort. Swinging the massive weapon, Tomas wasn't quite a blur, but still moved with great velocity. He began to bring down trees in his metallic rampage. Great ditches would suddenly appear in the ground as he passed.
"I've not lost too much over my trip. I'd say I'm doing alright."
Wilkholm alternated with between the four weapons for hours, stopping to rest only thrice. He finally quit, put his jacket back on, reattached the pike to its sheath, slipped the masked weapon onto his back and redid the restraints. It was getting dark, and the knight was hungry once more. He found his great suitcases intact, and paid the extremely bored youths handsomely. Guarding those bags was a matter of national security, after all. From there, Tomas visited the Akebeko once more, and this time was made to pay for his meal. A few hundred yen poorer, the Swede set off for the Kamiya Dojo, but stopped in the woods for about half an hour to let his dinner digest, and to run through his strategy.
"Guess I just try not to kill him. Then again, I hear that his movement techniques are referred to as 'God-like Speed.' Best be careful for my own sake as well. I'm pretty sure I can get a good confrontation going without much talking. I'll leave my stuff here for now."
The knight deposited his pike, guns, axe, claymore, and suitcases in the forest, and headed back towards the road. Only the rapier would be necessary for the fight. The Kamiya Dojo was just up a flight of steps. Wilkholm had located it easily enough, as Sagara had said. It was dark enough for even one such as himself to move about reasonably unnoticed. Tomas climbed the steps and vanished into the bush nearby. Kenshin Himura was inside the high-walled gates of the dojo, doing a few last-minute chores in the open courtyard. The Swede couldn't hear anyone else, and chose to make his move. Without the weight of the pike on his back, he easily leapt from the shrubbery and over the wall in one great motion. The foreigner landed with surprisingly little impact, drew his rapier, and rushed towards the redheaded samurai with a blinding speed that few besides the Battosai could even comprehend.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So, whatcha think? Anybody? Anyway, if you did happen to read this, I'd really, really, really like a review. It's long, sure enough, but it's easier to not break it into two chapters. The action starts up soon enough. Brace yourselves... and wait.