Author's Note: I know I shouldn't muddle every single chapter with more notes, but I wanted to make something clear. About Korean names, there are three. Technically, a Korean name has two parts, but the last name is divided, making three names in all. Even though canon says Yun is 'Hong Yunsung' it should be 'Hong Yun Sung,' and 'Seung Mi Na,' but I do it the canonical way. Wow, that rant felt utterly unnecessary...
jade: I should thank you for helping me out with the grammar...But I won't, so there! HA, NO COOKIE FOR YOU...Ok, nevermind. You're mastery of stuff is superior to mine. Congratulations, you've successfully reduced a small boy to tears (the small boy being my friend's little brother who I beat up cuz I was mad at you...not!) I have excuses! Yay! First, about the needle. I've seen that a needle can prick and/or enter the neck at certain locations and not hit vital sections, especially if it's very thin, like ninja poison needles (I know you have better knowledge of this stuff, but I've seen 'em too). About the paragraphing, it's this new format. I can't make it the correct way, the format doesn't let me. But, enough drivel, on with the story! You in particular might recognize a passage from this.
Also, I'm instituting a new policy. Even though it's really egotistical of me, I'm gonna try to wait until I have three reviews per chapter before a new update, just so I know that the world hasn't lost interest. More motivation for y'all. Lastly, to get this chapter, you might wanna know what kamas are, if you don't already. There is a good site that has pictures of them, weaponmasters.com. Look in 'ninja equipment' for the necessaries.
Disclaimer: I.....DO own SC2 is brutally stabbed Fine! I don't! Namco does! I do, however, own Jung San Kyuk and Kwan Hung Yon of the Seung Dojo, as well as some other surprises various unheard cackles
Chapter X – Where Ninjas Flee
"I'm going to find him," said Seung Mina resolutely, pounding her hand on the table to confirm her stability and unwavering position on the matter, "He left a clear path and we need to find out what is was that he wanted in the armory." The others in the room reacted accordingly. "He wanted our equipment, it's as simple as that." grumbled Jung from the other end of the table. "I think Mina is right, Jung." Commented Master Seung, the only one in the large, well-lit room, who was sitting, "A thief such as this could've taken what he wanted, and yet he took nothing. He came here for something, but it was not found. Though it is risky, we should indeed find out what the thief wanted, especially if it was a ninja of some sort. He could've have been a Japanese spy…or something else, more mysterious."
"So there it stands," interjected Mina, "I shall go, follow his trail. He has left a path behind, and he is injured. He could not have gotten very far as of yet, so he will be easy to catch. I will have him found before the next sunrise, father." Seung shook his head calmly, taking Mina's hand with some mild force as she turned, jolted with a veritable lance of excitement for a reason old Seung could only guess. "Don't be so hasty, Mina. Even if he is wounded, you cannot go alone." Seung stood, clasping his wrinkled hands in front of him and pacing past the table where Mina and the two more experienced students, Jung and Kwan, stood, "Jung and Kwan will go with you, and the three of you will leave immediately to track the thief. I will expect you, as you said, to return before the next dawn."
"I won't fail you, master." Said Mina dutifully, bowing in a dignified fashion to her father who bowed back. Seung, nodding further to his daughter, spun on his heels to face Jung and Kwan, "I am entrusting the safety of my daughter to you two. Do not shirk your duty, be strong." Kwan responded smartly, nearly severing the last word of his master. "We will, master Seung." he replied, bowing and pulling a hesitant Jung down with him.
Both Kwan Hung Yon and Jung San Kyuk were valued students of Seung's, and both the master and Mina knew they were trustworthy. Jung was a headstrong youth, a year Mina's junior, with unkempt black hair and fiery green eyes. He was the Seung Dojo's expert with hwarang blades, or Ssang twin swords, a pair of precisely matching swords wielded together in a single, flashy style. He was a little more impatient, more arrogant, but looked as naive as he often sounded, with a younger, more intentionally nonchalant look always plastered onto his sunken-cheeked face. Kwan was more level-headed, older than Mina, with a more conservative look apparent behind his hazel eyes and brown head of hair. He was one of the older students who had developed his knowledge of Weol do, a broader, straighter blade with a staff-like handle that he could maneuver with deftly. He was, of course, both rougher and more course of will in mind and body, looking fouler and more grizzled, but just as haughty as Jung, though he still paid more respect to those whom it was due to.The two of them had become one of the many pairs of friends in the dojo, and often talked and sparred together. Of most of the students, they were closest to Mina's age.
"One request, though, before I leave." said Mina, halting everyone else in the room as they turned. Seung turned first, a warm smile on wizened features, his memory pools of eyes glinting as if he knew something all others did not. "What is it, my child?" She hesitated, cauding Seung's position to eace delicately as he edged towards her, laying a fatherly hand on her shoulder to steady the girl as she looked up. "Hwang Sung Kyung leaves for Pusan this day…I…" she stammered, choking on her slurred words, "I wish to say farewell to him."
"Of course you may. Surely the whole dojo will see him off."
…
As Seung Han Myong had said, the turnout for Hwang's departure was an ample one. The combined crowd of dojo students gathered outside the Phoenix Court, under the dangling roof of shingles that hung over and off stout wooden columns behind. Yunsung sat regally displayed on a steed, which snorted smoky breath and stamped, ripping up weak patches of idle grass beneath. Seung and Mina stood nearest the steed, which brayed in anticipation as Yunsung steadied it, letting his easy hand glide down the length of its mane. Seung, his wizened face creased with a magical smile, turned from a serious-looking Hwang and faced the throng of students on the veranda and grassy knoll.
"Students of the Seung Dojo, students of mine, future warriors of this great land," he began, eliciting an easy cheer from the swollen mass, "The time has come to again bid a fond farewell to a great man, a man who has done so much for this dojo!" With this, there was another cheer as Seung's oratory voice swelled to a regal high, his calming baritone expunging doubt from his student's minds. "Hwang Sung Kyung, your next master, your teacher, our herald and protector, and personal friend, is leaving this day for the coast to fight for Korea!" Yet another rippling wave of cheers from every corner of the dojo. Civilians had gathered as well in the area, wearing rustic clothes and still armed with their farming tools as they watched in awe.
"He was a friend to all of us, and so shall he be still, my brethren. My sons, my daughters, students, boys, men, and all; look, this day, upon a great man, a man who will surely bring us the standard of Japan tomorrow eve, if I know him as I do. My friends, Hwang Sung Kyung, Patriot, Warrior, and Hero!" The uproar was unconquerable as it raged, rising drastically above any existing scales; it broke the very barriers of the sky above. Causing the fluttering birds to shudder and pause in their course through the sky. The murmuring mass suddenly shifted in volume as Hwang's horse clip-clopped sideways, braying noisily as Hwang Sung Kyung swiveled it to face to dojo students.
"Your master may be wise, my friends, but he is exaggerating nonetheless. I am but a few of those things, and barely that. It is not I who you should cheer so much for, it is yourselves, your achievement. Look up to me if you wish, but I find it is better to look up to all of you, willing and persevering students of this dojo, this nation. You have studied, and shall continue to, and I expect you all to be as good as you think me to be when I return, though I already know it shall be so. You strive for excellence, and here it may be achieved." He paused dramatically, "You, my friends are the heroes!"
As another rousing cheer waved up in the audience of Hwang, he kicked his horse around. Seung, looking as calm as ever, turned slowly, his robe drifting about like billowing clouds, as Hwang's horse trotted briskly towards the grassy plain leading out of the city. Suddenly, Mina, who'd been standing beside him, plunged past him and sprinted towards the horse as it began to get farther away, drifting out of the crowd's line of vision. She caught up with him quickly, letting her ceremonial hanbok dress for the occasion wrinkle up and drag in the dust as she grabbed the reins of Hwang's horse. The Korean turned sluggishly on his horse, looking warmly at Mina as she tried to speak. At first, her mouth fell open, but no words formed on her moving lips. Finally, she managed to get formulated words out. "Hwang, I'm going to miss you…" she paused meekly, considering her words as the dripped out, "really, I am." She finished, looking down in a dejected manner. Soon, she felt a rough hand on her chin which lifted up her head.
"I know, Mina, but I won't be gone long." He said, his manner very comforting. "You don't know that." Replied Mina softly, "You're leaving this dojo at a disadvantage." Hwang smiled, ever diligent in his optimism. "I have to go, and I'll bring all the more glory back." His smile, a weak but fervent outpour of emotion, was reflected in Mina's shimmering look in response. "What if I run away again, hmm?" joked the Korean girl, laughing meagerly and obviously encouraging Hwang to do the same lamely, "Who's gonna chase me down and bring me back?" Her amusement suddenly dwindled, but Hwang smiled yet further and leaned down on his threadbare saddle. "Maybe you won't." he whispered into her ear, "Could I trust you to stick around here until I get back?"
"You know I can't promise that, Hwang." Chided Mina soothingly as Hwang reared back up onto his mount. "I thought as much." He said back, chuckling as he pulled the horse along at a snail's pace, allowing Mina to walk beside, "Well, I'll sure you'll be fine whatever you do."
"And I know that is just as true for you, good luck, hero of Korea." She said at last, her smile full. He looked back at her, a glint still evident, sparkling in his eyes, "Good luck, Mina." A smile, gentle and calm upon his face, Hwang kicked the steed beneath him faster, goading it slowly onward until it broke from Seung Mina ad began to speed into a steady gallop. As Hwang began to shrink on the grassy horizon and stony path, he turned and waved. Mina waved back, managing to deftly hide as she shed a silent tear. She didn't know if Hwang would ever return, no matter what he said. Wars took lives, even if those lives belonged to the most skilled warriors. She turned now, a very faint, crystalline twinkle upon her face, sliding down, but it was gone as she swiftly blinked and headed back towards the crowd.
…
The three of them, Mina, Jung, and Kwan set off an hour later, with barely half the hubbub of Hwang's departure. They bore no horses, since they needed none. The thief, as Mina said, could not have gotten very far in less than a whole day. They followed at first the path of oily puddles, gooey and black, and the light, almost unperceivable footprints made in the thick dirt and grassy knolls. It was an oddly dark day, which drifted sleepily into night, augmenting the foreboding feeling in the air. The trio moved on, as quickly as they could as the day dragged on, but seemed to get nowhere.
It had been a long time since anyone said anything by now. The first mingling moonbeams began to crest a darker sky, which was bled crimson as dusk enshrouded it. Jung was obviously the one who simply wanted this to be done, already bored with the whole endeavor, his arms still crossed impatiently and a dark, irked look in his murky green eyes as he paced behind the other two. If course, silence contributed to boredom, so he considered the possibility of bringing up something to talk about. As hesitant as he was, he moved up towards Seung Mina on the path. He was not a close friend of Mina, or Kwan for that matter, but he knew them well enough and talked to them often, so he was confident enough to speak first to them.
"So…umm…Mina…what do you think about Hwang leaving?" pondered Jung delicately, breaking the silence as all three of the had hoped. Unfortunately, the look he was met with was not as pleasant as Seung Mina glanced at him as she walked, dragging her zanbatou wearily behind even though the walk had held neither length nor strain. "What do you mean 'what do I think?'" she said coldly, "What do I think about what?"
"I dunno, just askin'." Jung backed off meekly, moving away from Mina on the trail. "Do you have a point to make," snapped the female coldly, "or are you just making conversation." The boy nodded, letting his head droop in dejected defeat and the resilient twang of boredom. "Conversation. No matter how close that ninja is, we've probably got a while ahead of us. He's probably still running now." Jung finished his remark more weakly, his words fading. With a look of tedium, Mina indulged him. "So, what's your question?"
"I guess I meant, 'are you going to miss him.'" Mina didn't, in fact, look as if she was going to respond, but she was beaten to it anyway. "Of course she is," interjected Kwan, stabbing at the problem jovially as he chuckled, "what do you think she was saying to him while he rode away?" He smiled more wryly as Seung Mina scowled back at him. "Hey, that's not your business, Kwan."
"C'mon, Mina, you can't tell us you're not going to miss him 'a little more' than everyone else." The female Korean scowled openly, her face twisting meagerly as her cold brow furrowed around the statement. "But, I'm not!" she said defensively, "What are you talking about it?" She was evading the question, but still fibbing with her answer. Kwan, smiling, moved towards her on the path and raised a rough hand, counting reasons on his finger. He pressed an index finger against his palm, citing his first example. "Well, for one, you always go to his practice and teaching sessions even though you study a different style than him."
"He's the second most skilled warrior in the dojo." Retaliated Mina easily, smiling too now as she felt the argument which had developed was going her way already. "Everyone goes to his practice and teaching sessions."
"She's got you there, Kwan." muttered Jung, intercepting the conversation with his two cents. Kwan ignored his younger compatriot and turned back to Mina, searching for reasons. "Well, why does he always bring you back whenever you run away, hmm?" Mina's mouth was promptly open, but the words that came out were absent of sound. "Because…just because…He's the only one who…ummm…" she faded too, losing track of the proper answer to the question. Kwan just nodded, feigning pitied understanding with a false sad face. "You see, you can't answer that one. Every time you run off, he's the one who finds you."
"Hey, that doesn't mean anything at all. It-"
"You always avoid talking about him too." Kwan cut her off cheaply before her retort was complete. "That doesn't prove anything either!" She yelled, kicking a stray stone on the road towards her verbal opponent. "Wait, there!" Jung interjected at last, thankfully before the conversation became too heated.
In the distance, not too far, nestled between the willowy gingkos, was a small shack-like abode, more concealed by the wreath of nighttime darkness that had descended. Twinkling stars shed a gentle light that hit the homely place very slightly, exposing it for the Korean trio who's pace began to mutually slow, the three of them edging towards the structure between the bulky tree trunks and decked with brambly bushes. Mina shot a last exasperated look at Kwan as she extracted her zanbatou from its place hefted upon her shoulder. Kwan, Mina, and Jung each pulled out their weapons with mild trepidation in their steps, walking slowly and with silent steps to the place that was their destination.
…
The house was indeed small, barely a shack, but some things stuck out. For one, the design style of it was mostly Japanese; a shingle-tiled roof of sea cerulean, thin planks of driftwood connecting flaps of papery material, swinging shoji doors, and very little light oozing from within. There were many thick bushes, littered with dense foliage, around the house and sprawling onto the sloping stairs of the porch, which Mina was the first to walk up, looking around with careful circumspection in her gaze. The next thing she noticed was the shoji door open, hanging limp as it had been severed from its hold in the wall. It had been assailed obviously, the papery substance that mad it shredded and exposing the veiling darkness inside. Slowly and brimming with a careful cautiousness, the trio walked, one foot before the other, inside.
The place was pitch-black, as Mina blinked to see within. There were small orbs of dripping light that surrounded various candles around the wide room they stood in, hovering in an aura which illuminated very few sections. Some light peeked in through the translucent shoji walls. The three looked around, trying in vain to be calm, attempting to locate some flicker of movement in the structure.
Suddenly, there was a sound, a creak of wooden plank beneath all of them. As if on cue, much to Mina's dismay, the door swung closed behind the trio, blown by a stray but mighty draft of blustery wind. The eyes of Mina and her cohorts flitted to the sound's source, which happened to be right by one of the glowing candle wicks on a table at the other side of the room. There was something in the light, a vague, sable silhouette plastered against the wall like a shadow, but with a leafy rustle, the shadow disappeared from behind the candle's lamp-like lighting.
Then, just as suddenly, a ghastly crimson light blared into the room, with the sound of heavy footsteps following it. The glow was merely the scabbard over a glistening blade, held by two clenched fists, one gloved and the other wooden which almost fell in. The pulsating light emitted by the swords bathed the trio and the wielder in a mild and deep red light. Mina raised her zanbatou as she recognized the sword holder.
"You! Yoshimi-"
"Quiet, you fool." The thief cut her off, "You'll be silent if you value your lives!" Jung and Kwan looked at the garish clothing of the thief, bathed in the radiant, blood-red light that swelled and twisted in a pulsating manner around the man's sword. "What's going on here!?" roared Jung loudly, eliciting a prompt shushing noise from both Yoshimitsu and Mina, who had caught on. He repeated his question more quietly, "What's going on? Wha-" The clockwork ninja, mechanized in the shadows, interjected again. "We're not alone in here. I was trying to find out who was in here, but the noise you made fleshed them out." At this, Jung's face went brilliant red as he whipped his ssang blades up, glinting dully in the darkness, and brandished them at the thief. "Don't try to blame us, criminal. We don't care who is here, we've come for you!"
'Silence!" snapped the thief abruptly, "Are you trying to alert the ninjas?"
"Ninjas, what ninjas?" yelled Jung, his volume rising as he spoke, totally incredulous.
All of a sudden, the veiling light of Yoshimitsu's blade flared outward, rippling vaguely over the room and inflaming every candle wick. Seung Mina's eyes shot open widely as she saw three figures, completely black and apparently one with the shadows, dashing through the checkered rays of light and dark towards her. Something turned all three heads, snapping them around, though Yoshimitsu didn't turn when a very large something emerged from the darkness, peeling out of it in mid-air, and drove something else into Jung. The hapless Korean, groaning in pain, slid and flipped backward, right through another shoji door, tearing it easily, and skidded to the wooden floor in the next room. He didn't hear Yoshimitsu's confirmation.
"Those ninjas."
Seung Mina, in a single gaping instant, completely lost track of what was going on. She clearly saw Jung's form hurtle past her, through and easily breaking wall, and into the next room, followed by the coupled gleam of many unfurled weapons. There were men around her, lunging. Her zanbatou was up in a graceful flash, and she buckled backward when a blade bashed into her weapon's staff. She flew, but recovered as the two blades careening towards her slammed down. She looked toward Jung, but saw only one of the black masses, lithe and slender, leap through the hole he'd left. Yoshimitsu plunged forward towards the last remaining shadow and the two of them tumbled back into the darkness, leaving a trailing tail of light from the thief's sword. The two of them rolled backward, slashing their way into the next room.
Kwan rushed towards the figure towering over Seung Mina. Suddenly, the figure, who Mina could clearly see, ran forward while still locked with her. She watched in amazement as the being, apparently a ninja, but clad in black unlike Yoshimitsu, flipped backward, over Kwan's twirling whirlwind of a sword, and landed like an alighting bird upon the ground. As Kwan turned, bewildered, the ninja's foot plowed upward and outward, crashing into Kwan's upper chest. He too slid backward, skidding along the floor and bumping into the wall. Before Mina could react, a gloved hand encircled her throat and she felt herself flying through the air as the blades glinted, almost hovering over her when she hit the ground a room away. She rolled backward, propelling herself to her feet, and tried to kick the ninja, but he caught her foot and thrust her against the floor. She felt the air bursting out of her, but stabbed up as she gasped and groped for stuffy air. The ninja easily deflected her zanbatou stab and stabbed with his two blades, ninjatou. They were both up and at each other, but both glanced off of each other and slid to the side, spinning in place.
They crashed back over, fumbling, but the ninja seemed agile enough to compensate for his every mistake while Seung Mina ended up stumbling awkwardly about through a table and chair filled room, one long table with a cloth and lanterns on it and some small matted seats around it primarily as adornment, knocking over a number of the objects which were promptly cut to ribbons. Still mostly in darkness, but for some livid moonlight, Mina kept bashing unintentionally into the room's obstacles. She had by now deduced that this was the home away from home of her original quarry, Yoshimitsu. It had all the proper signs, a decadent lounging room, eating and practicing areas splayed out a about the place, and certainly other things Mina had not seen. But, the young Korean's mind was whirled from its attempt at halting with more vigorous blows from the opponent. She found herself up against a wall, but spun her zanbatou adeptly, knocking away his swift and sporting stabs. He leapt back, landing on one foot while Mina charged. He expected the maneuver, and his foot off the ground sped up, knocking her zanbatou from her grip. But the battle with Yoshimitsu had taught Mina a few things, and her hands wheeled up to catch the rod as it left her grasp. She brought it down, striking the ninja's upraised knee with the staff of her weapon. A very slight groan hiccupping from him, he arched his fist around, striking Mina's shoulder with his metal hilt and fist around. Both warriors stumbled, slightly weakened. Mina readied herself for the next attack.
But, as a mild surprise for Mina, the ninja did not attack. He stood stock still, allowing Mina a chance to catch her breath. At long last, panting and shooting belligerent glances at her foes, Seung Mina was able to analyze the opponent and her surroundings. The innards of this multi-room hideaway were relatively civilized, with simply designed shoji doors and paper walls, tables and tatami mats littering the floor, with all the ecoutrements that a temporary abode should have for any purpose. Mina took a moment to wonder how Yoshimitsu had secured a Japanese-stylized residence in a Korean forest, but her narrowed eyes soon aimed back at the ninja, looking into his focused eyes, the pupils of those orbs minute and pulsing with a faint ember of fire that lurked behind the emotionless grille of his face. He was still clad in black, but his eyes and part of his nose were visible through a turbaned mask of cloth. He had deep, calculating gray-green pools that looked as if they were each focused into pinpointing rays that projected from each dot of a pupil. His skin was rough and somewhat dark, though Mina could not tell if it was his skin of some form of paint he was wearing. As Mina breathed deeply, bringing her zanbatou up for attack, the ninja spoke.
"Not bad, child." Said the icy baritone suddenly, "You've got some skill." Mina looked at him like a snake poised to strike, but her words were those of a question which she spat. "Who are you? Why are you here?" The cloth on the ninja's mask wrinkled meagerly, indicating a probably grin. "Not that you need to know," he responded, his stance easing up, "but my name is Satoshi, Akuda Satoshi. I like for those I kill to know my name…They can take it to hell and tell it to the darkness. Then, even the darkness will fear the name, after enough of my victims have descended."
"Very poetic." Growled Mina coldly, "But it's useless to say such things. You don't scare me." The ninja called Satoshi actually cackled, the stabbing laughter resounding inside his mask so it was eerily muffled. "On the contrary, young one…I can tell when people are scared…and you are scared." He took a step forward, but his head turned immediately to Mina's side. Instinctively, Mina turned to see what Satoshi was looking at. Standing there, beside her, having arrived in the most perfect of silences, was Yoshimitsu, his blade pulsing madly and angrily as a crimson ooze slid off of it, trying to cling weakly. The scarlet was being pulled into the red-tinted metal as the smell of death began to permeate the air.
"Seung Mina," said Yoshimitsu's strangely eccentric voice beneath his own mask, "go to your brethren. See to the other ninjas. This one is mine." Mina looked at him, not understanding, but saw the vague glow emanating from the eyes of his mask. She nodded slowly and backed up, quickly taking off through what was left of the wall towards where she'd last seen Kyam and Jung. Yoshimitsu's masked eyes didn't follow her, but instead remained eternally fixed on the shadow-wreathed silhouette of Satoshi in the light and dark before him.
"Yoshimitsu of the Manji, long time no see, old friend." murmured the shadow ninja, raising his two unscathed ninjatou. "It has been a long time, Satoshi." Shot back Yoshimitsu, his voice utterly monotone, "Now, let's get this over with." The ninja's eyebrows sagged with sarcastic sorrow. "Now that hurt, Yoshimitsu. I thought you'd been waiting for this moment for years and wanted to savor it." Yoshimitsu was probably smiling as well beneath his grotesque face plate. "On the contrary, I'd hoped you had succumbed to some lethal disease. But, killing you myself will be fine."
Yoshimitsu paced forward, as Satoshi readied himself and backed up. The two of them began walking sideways, stalking each other. Their four eyes, two beneath a mask and two almost thus, met, glaring and narrow, filled with a hateful and ruthless fire aimed aptly. In an instant, they had both dived forward and collided in the room's center. They fought backwards and forwards, blades clashing and slicing away doors and walls around them, sending chunks and shingles of debris everywhere, splinters careening madly about. One swift uppercut to the hip sent Yoshimitsu shooting from the room, but he rolled to his feet after a short, bouncing skid across the floor. He returned the attack by sending a hilt and fist into Satoshi's jaw, which propelled him through a shoji door. They backed up, stumbling, twisting, veering, and dodging, the two rolling about as their weapons clashed again and again, the rippling sound sending sprays of dust up from the shattered floorboards.
The combatants were weary, but continued without fail as more moonlight began to flow in through the window slits. Satoshi felt his hands tiring as Yoshimitsu beat his katana down on them with merciless resolve. He found himself running backwards as he fought, right through more weak doors and walls as wooden splinters welled up in his back. Mist flowed off Yoshimitsu, cascading over his body as his arms whirled. Satoshi's foot managed to swing up, bashing his chest, and he followed through with an ax kick from the other side. Yoshimitsu caught the foot with his talon-like fingers and katana hilt. Grabbing the leg, the thieving ninja spun Satoshi backwards, who flipped disoriented through the air and into the next room. Satoshi was up instantly and parrying. His eyes scanned, as did Yoshimitsu's, the surrounding room to see that the two had fought their way into a ruined armory of the building. This was where Yoshimitsu, ever a ninja at heart, had been keeping his equipment. He had furnished it with racks, shelves, and wooden crannies stocked with a bizarre melange of objects, weapons, tools, and a dizzying assortment of seemingly useless items. Satoshi's scan of the room, though, gave Yoshimitsu time to strike. His katana were aimed at the ninja's chest, but he pulled aside and blocked. The force of both blades sent Satoshi's ninjatou backward and thumped into the wall. A kick to the leg and another slice later and Satoshi's other blade had ricocheted off the floor. Yoshimitsu swiped again, but Satoshi quailed beneath it and rolled backward. His hands flew back against the weapon racks, grasping a quartet of shuriken. They whizzed through the air in a second's span, but Yoshimitsu's katana shot up and the rotating jagged blades glanced harmlessly off it.
Just as Yoshimitsu found his composure, he found Satoshi rushing at him with a pair of kamas, glinting sickles borne aloft in his hand. The weapons slammed down on his ready blade, pressing them down and forcing both warriors into a lock. Satoshi leaned over the three muddled weapons and firmly head butted Yoshimitsu, who stumbled, but pulled up the katana in time to knock one kama from Satoshi's hand and slice the other, causing Satoshi to drop the other. But, before the demon had finished his foe, a roundhouse kick sent Yoshimitsu through the wall again and onto a waiting table in the room's corner, his back arching uncomfortably. Satoshi, in his ninja-nimble fashion, flitted over to the fallen foe.
In a split second, his ninjatou recovered, Satoshi's blade was up and plunging down.