"Let the 23rd Annual Strong Man finals begin!"
Jin sweated under the warm Edo sky, his straw hat doing little to prevent the oppressing heat from tormenting his face. He peered calmly over the edge of his dulled wooden sword and examined his large opponent.
He stood a head taller than Jin, leering down at the samurai with eyes that were too small for his face. A similar wooden sword was held in his clumsy grip. His opponent spoke in a strange, heavy accent. "A wee bit short, ain'tcha? Hope ya can hold on ta' that sword there when I knock ya over the head!" He laughed, careful to keep his small eyes on Jin.
When Jin made no comment, he grew angry. "Give up now and you might walk outta here with both of ya legs."
Jin remained silent, ignoring the giant's request, instead searching for an advantage he could gain over his opponent. He waited for him to become careless; to leave an opening in his erratic form.
"C'mon Jin, kick his ass!" shouted Mugen, waving his beer-filled mug in the air. Every few seconds a wave of drink would slop out of the mug, splashing over an increasingly angry Fuu. "I wanna eat some real steak tonight!"
There! Jin covered the space between his opponent and him in two strides, ducking under his clumsy guard and swinging at his chest. It would have been a fatal blow if he was using a real blade, but in this competition it would merely signal his victory. The large man ducked at the last moment, moving with grace and speed unattributed to one of his size.
He stepped forward into Jin, driving him back with wild strikes. Jin dodged and parried attacks that came too close to his body, dust swirled at their feet, rising in a choking cloud. His opponent hadn't reached the final with luck; he was skilled almost on a level with Jin.
'This is no mere contest of skill,' Jin though, leaping over a low slash aimed at his ankles. 'This is a test of wills!' He flipped backwards, landing evenly on his feet two yards away from his opponent.
"Ya one of those sam-ooh-rai types, eh? A yojimbo? They're losers, all of em!" He crept closer, tapping the edge of his sword against Jin's.
"Speak what you will; it only makes it easier for me to beat you."
"Beat me? This is about winning!" He twirled, swinging his sword in a wide arc at Jin's head. Jin brought his sword up for a parry, spun his foot into his attacker, and wrenched the sword out of his hand.
His opponent stumbled backwards, and then fell, landing with a thump on his large bottom. Jin rushed in for a killing blow, thereby winning the match. He needed to do it, he needed to win!
But his opponent was unarmed. It was almost shameful to beat a weak opponent, one who couldn't even defend himself.
Jin tossed his opponent's sword back at him. "Let's finish this like gentlemen."
"Your own mistake, boy." His opponent swung his fist around, and a tan powder flew into Jin's wide eyes.
Angry flashed in Jin's mind. He slashed at empty air, searching for an unseen opponent as he tried to clear his vision. A fist knocked him off his feet, and he landed hard, blood running from his nose. The point of a wooden sword touched his throat.
"Err, we have the winner of our 23rd Strong Man Contest!" the announcer shouted. "Thank you for donating your money and time to this event, and buy more beer!"
Jin picked himself off the ground; his eyes finally rid of the dirt, and looked around. The crowd had descended onto the field, and his vision of the victor was obscured.
"That was a cheap move!" Mugen shouted, indignant at the loss of the prize winnings. "I'd've torn that monkey limb from appendage if I could see the bastard-" Jin couldn't help hiding a snicker at the swelling red welt on Mugen's face, and Fuu's carefully concealed laughter.
"Dirty or not, he did win-"
"Hey, samurai!" said a peasant who had detached from the group surrounding the prize platform, "You alright, bub?"
"Yes sir, do you happen to know where we could find lodging for the night?"
"Ya fought like a demon out there!" shouted another peasant, throwing his fist in the air as if he himself had won. "That was one cheap-ass shot"
The crowd had begun dissipate around his opponent, reforming around Jin instead, and murmurs of agreement followed this statement.
"I say we give him a rematch!"
"Bloody coward knew he couldn't take on a master!"
"Jin! Jin! Jin!"
And as Jin walked away with a happy Fuu and disgruntled Mugen, he felt he had won something more than the prize money.