Author's Note: Hey all. Just wanted to say, I think this chapter moves a bit too quickly. I couldn't think of some stuff, but it works in the end. As Disclaimer: I don't own SC2. Really. Do you think I do? You're damn crazy, bud! Lastly, I'm afraid there will be no more daily updates. There will be updates, at least on a week, but not one a day, or every two days. Chapters are getting much longer and need more time to write...
Avion and YF: Glad you liked. YF, you're on the right track. Not givin' anything away. Unfortunately, I won't be able to come back to that storyline for a few chapters, more important stuff. Avion, as a warning, Talim does get a bit...ummm..roughed up, shall we say, in later chapters. Necessary for some philosophizing (every epic needs more than action, so I fit it in where I can). She'll be fine...in fact, better than, but wait for it.
Chapter VIII – Juxtaposition
Even here, in and on another, darker plane, Yunsung knew what time and place he lurked in. It had been two days since the fateful incident with the black-clad warrior, and there was not a fleeting second that the redheaded student did not think of the battle…that battle with the ninja, not long ago, but now...
He was running, running from something. He didn't even know what he was running from, or if it was he that was running. All he knew was that Hong Yunsung, whether he was Hong Yunsung or watching Hong Yunsung, was running through a veritable ocean of darkness, murky like liquid it swirled around the figure as he sprinted along an invisible path deeper into the pitch shadows. Even though the eyes of this state could see the figure running, those eyes also belonged to the figure running. The whole thing was like an endless succession of mirrors, reflecting itself and seeing itself. It was an endless wall of mirrors, at first only metaphorically, but those walls, mirroring corridors, soon came into open, literal view on every side of Yunsung. And ever he ran, now running through a thicker, stickier material. Suddenly the sky of the dreamy plane was tinted deeper, fouler red that tainted Yunsung's already severely blurred vision. His dreaming omnipresence and lower manifestation searched about madly, finding nothing. Until a faint glow began to unfurl just before him, a smoky haze beginning to spurt from the focal point of the gules-singed darkness.
It was that ninja, wreathed in the smoggy white smoke of the bomb he'd heaved, standing in a hovering cloud before him, wading ever closer to the Korean. Though this single, lucid figurine was by no means intimidating, Yunsung found himself gripped with pangs of stinging fear. He felt both himself and the statuary figure of him which he saw pulling back, stumbling and stammering, shivering and trembling with a deep and disconcerting inner sensation. He knew what was coming, but his eyes could not close as it came. The ninja, rearing back upon his swirling ivory nimbus, spewed forth a malodorous, foul spray of crimson that seemed to well up on the lens of Yunsung's dream. As the ghastly sound of the action shrieked within, it was all over…
Hong's eyes snapped open; his hand flitted to his sword. His fingers tightened, and then fell limp from his hip. The Korean panted heavily as he pulled himself into a sitting position, sweating bullets. He wiped his soaked brow hastily and arched forward, letting a solitary bead of sweat caress the bridge of his nose and slide off, impacting the rich, grassy soil beneath him. Choking on nothing, Yunsung nodded his head and took a deep breath, summoning his composure as he spoke slowly, still breathing hard, "It was all…a dream."
"Indeed it was, but this isn't."
Even though reality had already set in, the icy feel on Yunsung's throat shattered the dream's lingering effect. He would've jumped, but thought better of it, considering the fact that the blade pressed against his neck would've neatly popped his head off. "Who are you?" he said, as cocky as ever, hiding the fear in his voice. "You were attacked, yes?" said the supple tone, apparently female. "Why should I tell you?" Yunsung actually grinned, but the blade yanking barely backwards wiped the smile from his face. "Answer the question, boy. You were attacked. He was clad in black, with his face covered?"
"Yes, that's right." responded Yunsung, shifting in his sitting position. "And he had a strange weapon, a scythe and chain?" Yunsung nodded. "Along with a number of other things, yes." he replied, now trying to ease back. Suddenly, very suddenly, the cold sensation in his neck stopped abruptly, almost causing him to jump. At first he considered the thought that his assailant might have pulled the blade and popped his head off, and he was having some sort of post-mortem contemplation, but that thought was proved wrong as his hand flew to his warmed throat and felt it, spying only a minor cut made by the precisely tipped weapon. He turned around swiftly, expecting not to see anything, but he did see his assailant, kneeling behind him and looking up. She was female indeed, with long, sleek black hair and a mask covering her mouth and nose. She wore tight-fitting crimson which actually managed to blend with the blued hue of night. The female slid her ninjatou into a sheath on her back and raised a hand contemplatively to her chin, leaning forward on a bent knee. She murmured inaudibly to herself as Yunsung spun angrily.
"YOU ALMOST KILLED ME!" he roared at the woman, at point-blank range. "Shut up, I'm thinking." snapped the ninja, not even deigning to look at the flame-haired Korean. "WHY THE HELL DID YOU-" He was swiftly interrupted before the next stream of Korean expletives could spurt out. "I said, QUIET!" the ninja cut him off. A swift, well-aimed punch from the female did more than silence Yunsung, it knocked him unconscious.
…
Hong reverted back to reality as the hustle and bustle of people caught attention to his ears. The road was crowded with business vendors, trying to sell their catch of the day to local buyers. Yunsung made his way through the crowds, passing stern voices of shouting Korean women complaining about the prices. As he walked closer to the pier, a rush of memories whizzed to his mind. The youth was no stranger to this seaport. This was Pusan, where he was headed. When he was younger, he'd often come down here with his fellow comrades to fish for the day and just have some pure, old-fashioned fun. At least half of the visits were just with him and Hwang alone.
"Just watch, I'm going to catch the biggest fish ever!" Hwang teased over to his 'little brother.' "No!" argued Yunsung, "I am. I'm going to catch a huge sea bass this big!" He outstretched his arms as far as he could. With fishing rods in their hands, they walked to their favorite fishing spot along the pier. Through laughing and some jokes, the duo saw several people being pushed aside. "Stop thief!" Hwang looked to see a scrubby man carrying a medium-sized pouch pushing people, young and elderly alike, out of his path. Hwang could also see two sailors chasing after him. "Someone please stop him!" yelled one of the sailors. "What's happening Hwang?" the boy asked. "Don't move," Hwang instructed. He gave the curious Yunsung his fishing pole as he studied the movements of the thief heading straight for him. Sidestepping to the side just a bit, he quickly spun around and extended his leg. Hwang's heel smacked directly onto the thief's jaw, knocking him down on the floor. Yunsung shouted incoherently in amazement. Hwang bent down to grab the pouch as the two sailors finally caught up. "Here you go," Hwang stated, tossing the pouch to one of the sailors. "Thanks kid, we appreciate it." They forced the thief back onto his feet and dragged him away.
Yunsung remembered it as if it was yesterday. He couldn't have been older than six at the time, the youngest student at the dojo. Hwang was already twenty. It was from that day that he admired Hwang and wanted to be just like him. Despite the fact that he wanted to prove that he was better than him now, he admitted that those were good times.
For the second time that day, Yunsung awoke. His eyelids were heavier this time, and one of them felt swollen was caked with a blue tinge from the punch dealt him. Again, he was about to shoot upward, but decided it would be easier to just lie where he was. His hand managed to arch its way to his side and groped for the hilt of his sword, but it curled involuntarily around nothing. He managed to push himself up slightly, surprised to find nothing against his jugular vein this time. His blurred vision managed to notice the same female leaning against a ginko tree nearby.
"W-why didn't you kill me?" he said weakly, rubbing his bruised face. "You're more important alive. I didn't expect that little punch to knock you out." The Korean growled angrily in his throat, which built up until he could hold onto it no longer. "IT WASN'T A LITTLE PUNCH!" roared Yunsung, surging upward. "Don't make me punch you again." threatened the ninja, barely glancing at the Korean. Trying to look unafraid, but still mildly intimidated by the figure, Yunsung sagged down again onto his rear, crossing his arms impatiently. "Alright, kid, I've got some questions for you." She waited for response and watched Yunsung nod reluctantly, "First question: were there any strange markings upon your attacker, odd garb, tattoos, scars, something like that?"
"Not a thing, I guess. He was just wearing black, that's all." Yunsung tried to recall, but he had not taken the initiative to search the body. Admittedly, he was a little spooked by the idea of searching a corpse. "I see," pondered the female, "And he said to you?" Yunsung knew the answer, and was becoming more impatient with his inquisitor. "Nothing." the redhead snapped more bluntly, "Who the hell are you anyway?"
"I'm the one asking the questions, kid." Shot the ninja, "Which reminds me, what is your name?" At this, Yunsung's brow plunged. "Why should I tell you if you didn't tell me?" grumbled the other half of the growing banter. "Because I have a sword and you don't. How 'bout that for incentive?" To illustrate her point, the ninja extracted one of the lithe, sleek blades from a sheath at her hip and aimed it carefully at the Korean, who scooted back instinctively. "Fine, fine. I'm Hong Yunsung, if you wanna know." The ninja seemed to consider for a moment, lowering her ninjatou, and moved back again, sitting down neatly in the rough, solid dust of the road, rimmed by more gingko trees and some small patches of ginseng herbs. "If you care that much, my name is Taki. I usually don't divulge that…except to people I'm going to kill, but you're a special case." Though Yunsung was unsettled by that last comment, he didn't show it in the least. "Next question: you are from the dojo of Seung Han Myong, yes?"
"How did you know that?" queried Yunsung, answering the question technically. "That's not your concern. Next question: was your attacker skilled with the weapon he held." Yunsung reflected for a moment. He remembered vaguely how he'd observed the ninja trying to evade his own mad swings, nodded grimly, and then shook his head at Taki, "No, no, he was not skilled…not very skilled, anyway." Taki's gaze suddenly drifted away, "Ah, it was not Satoshi then." she mused, somewhat bitterly, still looking away. "Who's Satoshi?" snapped Yunsung, still irritable. "Once again, you don't need to know, kid." Shot back the ninja. "Wait a second, how do you know I was attacked?" the skeptical redhead persisted with his questions. "I followed you, I've been following you." Taki sighed, irked by the Korean's inquisitive nature at this point. "If you were following me, why didn't you just check the body I left?"
"It wasn't there when I reached the site where you fought." She yelled back loudly, silencing his questions, "There were two sets of footprints, evidence of a battle, broken branches, but no body. Your footprints went on; the other person's didn't, but no body." Yunsung looked puzzled, for obvious reasons. "But, I left the body there and-"
"Shhhh" Taki shushed Yunsung quickly, cutting him off in mid-word, "…did you hear that?" she looked off, away from Yunsung. "No, what? Hear what?" managed Yunsung, quieting down obediently.
Suddenly, as the two looked out at the dark trees, a spinning glint of light whizzed past them. Taki pushed Yunsung to the ground and he saw the recognizable ninja throwing star fly too close to his quivering nose and thud into the thick segments of a gingko trunk nearby. Yunsung leapt up yet again, bursting up from the earth and landing, he saw his blade, White Storm, stuck in the grassy dirt not far off and lunged. Taki whipped out her ninjatou expertly and backpedaled with feline agility as a second shuriken flew past her, cutting the shoulder cloth of her tight outfit.
More shuriken, their gleaming tips bearing a grim glint, flew again, striking the dusty road in front of Taki as she leapt over their path. Somersaulting lithely forward and sprinting towards the source of the throwing stars, her blades out and flying. She shredded the leafy branch, low in the hanging, of one of the hapless ginkos, and heard a satisfying yelp as something skittered from her target point. She held up MekkiMaru instinctively, the slightly fluorescent blade up just in time to receive the last shuriken as the offending something burst from the trees. Taki retreated as the black-clad figure alighted, obviously a ninja as well, just as wreathed in deceiving sable as the former. From his beltline he yanked a ninjatou for himself, longer than Taki's, and his other hand wheeled around and pulled a narrow dagger, a tanto blade tucked into his thick but non-cumbersome suit.
Yunsung, meanwhile, had his own curved and slender blade clutched in both blades as he dove forward madly, passing Taki. After the incident with the other ninja, Yunsung felt a sort of appalling verve, like he wanted to repeat the process. He didn't even think as he plowed onward…right into a waiting, clenched fist outstretched by the assailant. He buckled backward, but managed to flip backward awkwardly on the ground as the longer ninja sword stabbed ruthlessly into the earth. The ninja looked sideways too late, watching Taki fly into action. She leapt up, both feet flying. One foot caught the blade that was stabbed into the ground, sending it flying into the thick mud. The other, more precisely aimed, snapped the ninja's head back and sent him to a position sprawled in one of the watery millet patches.
Hong Yunsung followed first, lifting his weakened arm and pouncing. The ninja evaded, squirming sideways in the mire as Yunsung splashed down. He felt a breezy drizzle on his back, but ignored the minute sprinkle of rain as he turned through the muck, his face now coated with a combination of it and some plastered rice, to see his enemy. Spinning on his arm, the ninja swung through the slippery patch until his sandaled foot found Yunsung's chest. The Korean panted, trying to catch his breath as it left him, and crumbled into the mud as Taki leapt over him, practically balancing above the thick material as she began to hammer the ground with slices from her ninjatou in vain, the ninja dodged each stab and hack nimbly.
Finally, the ninja foe rolled from his restricting spot in the mud, alighting beneath a weak sheet of rain on more solid earth. He whipped something from his outfit, a small, colorless sphere soared past Taki, who dove over it. It plunked down in the mud beside Yunsung as he scrambled to his feet. Before he could go forward, he found himself coughing as smoggy whiteness, pouring from the mud-caked sphere, flooded his lungs and eyes. He batted as it as he would at an invisible foe and wormed his way to Taki and the ninja who had resumed combat.
After clashing mightily while Yunsung dove, the ninja reared back, pushing off wit his feet, and flipped backward, sending up a spurt of clouded dust just as Yunsung, ready again to do what he considered his job, charged up and pushed Taki aside, running at the ninja and roaring at the top of his smoke-filled lungs. He stopped in his tracks, frozen in icy shock when the ninja landed and pulled an arm around, sending a very small, barely visible projectile whizzing toward him. It seemed to rip the air in front of him as it closed the distance until…
Yunsung's eyes were closed, expecting the object to catch him full in the face, but there was no pain, no feeling at all as he heard the slick sound of the object striking flesh. Opening his eyes in coupled confusion and horror, Yunsung saw why he had not been hit.
Standing in front of him, a slender needle poking out of her throat, was Taki, staggering and wobbling weakly. With a last surge of energy, before Yunsung could stop her, she charged at the bewildered ninja, who was obviously unprepared for this. With one swift strike, his bleeding lump of an arm lay wrenching in the mud, with a second came his other arm. The 'disarmed' attacker fell to his knees, bleeding from both shoulders, and looked up just in time to see both of Taki's ninjatou stab through his black mask and face, coming out the other side.
As the ninja slumped over, limp like a puppet, Taki stepped back to admire her handiwork. Then, smiling eerily, she too fell back, crumbling into the mud. Yunsung, completely addled by now, ran towards the motionless form of Taki. He knelt quickly beside her, inspecting the wound. Carefully, he plucked the needle from her neck, it had pierced nothing vital, but as he observed the acute tip, he saw the slight yellowish aura on it. 'Poison!' He pulled her up as best he could and lifted her hanging wrist. Surprisingly, there was a feint pulse resounding there. The redhead thought carefully as he lowered Taki to the dirt. 'I could…take her with me…to Pusan.' His more logical, and colder side warned him against it. 'You hardly know her, Yun, why do you care?'
'She saved my life, for whatever reason, and I want to find out why. If she's still alive, I can.' His calculating mentality did not respond, and Yunsung assumed the argument was easily won until, 'She probably wants you dead.'
'Why would she have saved me then?' retorted Yun, actually saying this out loud as well as thinking it. Not waiting for an answer he sheathed his blade and Taki's ninjatou, picked up her slowly colder becoming form, and hefted it into his arms. 'I need answers, and she can give them.'