Disclaimer: I own nothing. I live on top of a small mountain with nothing to warm me other than what fires I can get going with the small twigs I gather from the local Hermit's R Us
A/N: Hmph, at one point in this chapter, I took a break that lasted quite a while. I had been busy, but I also reviewed my work, my style. I lost more in the transition from the free-flow of stage one to the grammer-structure of stage two than I could have possibly imagined. After this pause, I try to bring back the flow—combine the styles—can you tell where? Heh, j00 must ph34r m3, for I am twice as 31337 as 3v4. (Sorry, I've been reading "Megatokyo", the online comic)
It was a bright and sunny school morning. The cool breeze that blew softly through the trees could be counted as one of nature's rarer and less appreciated gifts.
Yoh yawned as he got off the bus. The rest of his friends followed behind him.
"Aah, Izumo, is it?"
Anna considered her fiancée. "Yes. You're a horrible Asakura, to not come back here in half a year."
"What about Ryu? He's an Asakura."
"What? I am?"
"W-Well," Tamao spoke up, "you've only trained under Asakura's in your life. Even Anna-san is an Asakura itako, and me: an Asakura shaman"
The gang started their way up the long, long flight of stone steps towards the Asakura compound.
"I still c-can't believe it," Manta huffed. These stairs were killers to people of his—ahem—stature. "To think that (huff) the Shaman Tournament's finally started up again"
"What I cannot believe is that Master Yoh was disqualified!" Added Ryu. Poor Manta, he had to watch a guy with some log-like hair take three steps at a time with ease.
"Y-Yeah (huff) what's up with that?"
"Hey Manta… want a piggyback, or something?" inquired Yoh
"It's not that bad!"
"I don't know… sometimes I wonder if you really aren't a minution…" Horohoro mused philosophically
"For the last time, Horohoro, I'm not a—" Manta's shock cut him off mid-sentance
"Hmph, so you finally decide to visit" Yohmei sulked from five stepps up.
"Wh-where did (huff) that old guy come from?.!"
"Which old guy?.!"
"I-I mean, nice to see you again Yohmei-sama" Manta cowered
Yohmei ignored the short one, and affixed his attention onto his wayward grandson. The lazy cheeseburger munching, curry bread loving fool that was now the Asakura clan's shining prodigy. Looking at that self-same prodigy yawn and attempt to sleep standing up, Yohmei again wondered just how far the Asakura's had fallen.
'However,' an almost troubling thought insisted, 'two years ago he could stop the Ko-Oni strike (the tiny leaf shikigami) from behind with a sword. Today he stopped Ko-Oni strikes from every direction without moving, using only the force of his furyoku. My grandson, have you become less lazy… or has controlling your furyoku outside your body just become that easy?'
"Come, Yoh," the ancient man turned to head up the steps and prompted, "the students will want to see you."
"Um… g-gomen, Yohmei-sama"
The ancient man sighed again. What now? When a normal person apologised, you knew that they had done something wrong. When Tamao apologized, it could mean anything under the sun.
"Um… Yoh-sama has fallen asleep"
'How did it become like this? Our proud Asakura family…'
"Hmph, I'll wake him"
"A-Ah, no Anna-san, I-I'll—"
SLAP
"itai!" (ouch!)
"Whoah…" Horohoro's voice was filled with awe.
The group had finished their 10 min. trek up the remaining stairs. They stood gathered on the last step and watched in collective awe at the sight before them. As if taking the final step up the stairs had transferred them to a new dimension, this utterly new scene was taking a while for the group to process and accept as reality.
The Izumo Asakura compound was teaming with life. A diligent air surrounded the place. As far as the eye could see: Shamans. Shamans of every age, gender and race training to better themselves in their art. Had the Asakuras grown so much in two years, and why?
Looking at the teaming crowd, which was not divided by age, group, or 'class', but divided by raw skill; feeling the uniform acceptance of this division as tough duelled with tiny, as young lectured old; feeling no less that 100 people put aside their assumptions, their differences, and their pride all for the sake of mutual growth. Never had the Asakura family seemed so mighty, never had their pride seemed so founded, and never had Yoh looked so impossible to match.
"Eeek, Yoh-sama is back!"
The group was knocked out of it's revelling by the arrival of a gaggle of teenage girls who, tired and weighed down by baskets of laundry as they were, still managed to giggle and point and gossip feveredly before scurrying off, presumably to spread the word of "Yoh-sama's return"
"Tch," Yohmei frowned, "undisciplined apprentice levels that can't keep their composure in check"
"Rather than that, they're…" Anna began, sounding unimpressed, "undisciplined teenage girls that can't keep their hormones in check"
The group continued onwards as Yoh continued to nurse his slapped cheek. He tried his best not to fall asleep for now
The group was in the centre of the Asakura compound's training grounds, standing between a flat area of raised and packed ground (an 'arena' floor for more serious sparring) and the compound's main building. Students trained around them, giving them a wide breath of courtesy room. Ryu seemed to think that there were a lot of young people here, yet there was also a substantial amount of older, more -ahem- mature women that he wanted to go chase after, yet his friends restrained him. After all... they were waiting for a fearful woman to come forth.
"Hmm," Yoh yawned (the guy can feel sleepy as a matter of will!), "do we really need to wait for 'baa-chan?"
His answer was a heel to the toe. "Fool!" Yohmei berated his grandson in whisper, "do you not know fear? With the support of this many students, you do not know the true fearless punishments of your grandmother!"
"Hmp! A foolish husband advising a foolish grandson"
The group looked ahead to the main building in shock. 'What's with all the old people suddenly appearing today?.!' screamed Manta's mind. For, much as the devil or boogeyman might answer the call of its name, Kino Asakura had arrived on the scene to catch her husband's warning.
"Hello Yoh, Anna, guests. Welcome" the old woman greeted the sweat dropping guests. A few wondered how Kino Asakura could hear whispers from so far away, but none expected less from the woman that trained the fearful 'Queen-of-pain: Anna Kyoyama'. It was commonly believed that both teacher and pupil had broken down punishment to an art of science.
"What exactly is my idiot grandson to fear?" she addressed Yohmei, "A training yard full of loyal shamans? Hmph," she scoffed at the idea as she advanced, "the most important player is flawlessly loyal to him. If his spirits will fuse with him, then just the amount of power in this school yard won't be enough. Besides…" Kino looked around at the surrounding bustle coolly: people training and pretending not to listen, "how many of these students have come to our compound for the sake of training in the 'great Yoh-sama's style?'"
"No, not the students, I meant that he should fear your new pride…" Yohmei muttered under his breath. Bad move.
Thwack!
No one could quite tell if it was on purpose or not, but Kino had made a sharp turn on reaching the group, sending the cane on her shoulder mightily into the head of her husband. How a blind Itako can do this is anyone's guess.
"Anna," she addressed, "what are you doing here?"
"Indeed," added Yohmei, ignoring the bump on his head, "have you come to train, or perhaps rest?"
"Neither," Anna replied shortly, "Yohmei-sama, Kino-sensei, my Yoh—" Anna was interrupted by a faint beeping, but she continued as if it didn't matter "—is here to fight"
A truly thunderous crash was heard from behind. Everyone turned to see the spectacle. As the dust cloud above the site of impact cleared, a large figure was seen kneeling in a 1-metre-diameter, self-created crater. In the following din of silence, the beeping that Anna ignored suddenly seemed much more demanding.
"Tch," Kino began, "that arena has been damaged twice in this week, only"
"Opponent number one," Anna commented quietly, "is here. Yoh! Get going."
Yoh sighed and looked to his beeping Oracle Bell, was it that time already? 'And I just got here…' He begrudgedly took Hurusame (Sword of Light) out of it's case and opened the leg pouch that contained his Antiquity (no way in hell am I typing "Futsunomitama" more than I have to). None of his friends seemed very worried for him, or even particularly interested. He supposed that to them, a preliminary match wouldn't be worth much. 'It's good to relax, but… looking down on your opponent isn't very nice.'
"What is going on, has the shaman fight begun already?.!" Asked Yohmei in shock
"No, Yoh's been disqualified, he must take the preliminary tests again. He also has five matches, so his fights are starting earlier" Anna spoke in a bored, yet conversational tone.
"Tch, so he's handicapped from the beginning?" Kino surmised coolly. "Just what are the great spirits thinking?" No one had an answer for her, or even a guess. Simply throwing more opponents at Yoh, what would that do? Yet it was the Great Spirits' tournament, there was no changing the rules: only those who followed, and those who broke them.
"Wait!" The large form finally spoke and stood up. He was a tall shaman, and muscled, though only enough to count him as a gym goer and not a muscle fanatic. His short, dirty and messy chestnut hair could not move in the wind, for it was too clumped, "don't you think this is a little unfair? I'm on your home ground and you don't look like much, but you're the famous Yoh Asakura, even I know our levels are completely different."
"And what do you want?" Though the speech was directed at Yoh, Anna was the one to respond and she knew a demand when she heard it, she made enough of them, herself.
"I deserve a handicap! Don't swing that famous giant sword around!" It would be a small victory, and doubtfully won, but the challenger would take every victory he could.
"Hmph, a flashy entrance," Anna admitted scornfully, "but it seems you're all bark after all"
It was true, and the challenger could feel the gazes of the growing crowd of training shamans growing colder in contempt. A feint shout of "squash him, Yoh-sama!" was heard from off to the side. "S-Say what you want! I'm plenty tough!"
Yet he didn't feel so. Looking into the cold eyes of Kyoyama Anna, he suddenly didn't feel tough at all. The sheer disinterest he found there—as if he really wasn't worth considering a threat—was unnerving in it's completion. Just what the hell had he gotten into?
"I'll tell you right now, if you think stopping double medium is enough to slow my Yoh down, you're even dumber than you look."
The man spluttered for a response
"If you want a handicap, we can do better. He won't even use a spirit."
"…" Yoh didn't respond, and the rest of the crowd was rendered speechless as well. Amidamaru made to protest but was interrupted
"Leave Hurusame and Futsunomitama as well."
Yoh now looked quite dejected. He packed his blades into their respective cases and lay them outside the 'arena' before stepping inside, much to the shock of all. 'Normally, I would complain but…' he thought as he looked to his opponent, '… it really isn't fair that everyone is putting that guy down, it looks like he's worked hard. Aren't the Asakuras better than this?'
He sighed, and turned his CD off; he had a different music he needed to listen to if he was going to fight like this. 'In combat, a shaman actually has seven senses. The five senses, the natural human 'sixth sense' of warning, and the shamanic sense. All must be used, and the sense of hearing can tune you in to the music. Anything with an ebb and flow of life has music if you listen for it hard enough and keep you mind open enough. In battle, it is vital to 'hear' that music. All seven senses must be used in a natural, flawless manner.'
"Hmph, he's gotten a little serious" Anna commented, ignoring the scandalous looks she was getting from Yoh's friends, "this will be good training."
"Is, is this some kind of joke?" The challenger spoke, stunned. Then he threw back his head and laughed "Ha, hahaha! I… After today, I…" before snapping it down in a much more determined look "I will be recognized as Jichimaru: the one who defeated Asakura Yoh! Oversoul!"
Many were nervous, including the 'freeloading crew' as they saw Jichimaru form the ethereal 'spirit ball' and slam it into a very large gun he produced from inside his shirt while Yoh only stood: loose and impassionate, save the small smile on their face. Hearts and minds were divided. Any mind could foretell the loss of Yoh-sama, yet no heart could accept it when confronted with his easygoing smile.
It seemed to Anna that she had underestimated this "Jichimaru" a little. It was not the high-class "Giant Oversoul" technique, but Jichimaru had a formidable Oversoul none the less. 'At least…' she admitted to herself as she gazed upon the giant revolving 24 barrel, high-calibre machine gun surrounded by what could only be guessed were rocket packs 'it has power in long range, but this still won't cause any problems. If Yoh can't handle something like this, then he's been slacking off even more than I thought.'
Another nervous, hushed silence fell over the crowd. The younger or more excitable audience (Tamao, Manta, various young apprentice shaman) were fretting in worry, while the other half of the audience threw away predictions, and waited to see just what they could learn from this fight.
"I'll finish it in one shot!" Jichimaru declared, throwing his arm straight up and dragging the medium and attached Oversoul up with it. "Medigo Barrage!"
For a split second, nothing happened save the slight narrowing of Yoh's eyes. Then came the storm. In an instant, cases uncovered, the barrel spun, and a hundred tiny spikes of death were propelled into the air. And then they split, doubled, redoubled, and doubled again. A hundred threats became half a thousand heraldrers of death.
And of course: what goes up, must come down.
Minds were frozen in horror as the small spikes descended, the uniform prediction was obvious.
But no matter how quickly the situation was moving, and no matter how slowly Yoh moved on a regular basis, Yoh's mind was processing the situation in a precious split-second 'The attack will come from above, it is a simulation of a cloud of arrows being shot by an entire army. The spikes have split several times: power decreases, chances to hit increases. Those things are too weak to faze a Giant Oversoul, but that's not being targeted… one shot through the heart, and it won't matter how strong the Oversoul is. Designed to be frighteningly efficient. This is going to be a little stressful…' with a thought, Yoh's muscles and stance relaxed further, ready to take action in any conceivable movement 'At least Horohoro's taking care of the crowd back there'
The crowd watched, unmoving as the cloud of death gained momentum. All were shamans, many could protect themselves, but from an attack of this spread? None could block it all. So all opted to do nothing, to just watch.
"Danna!" (A/N: I'll explain later) Ryu shouted, his own life was precious, but he could survive, what of Yoh? His, instinctive advance forwards was halted.
Horohoro threw his arm and body infront of Ryu. Ryu didn't even have the time to ask what the shorter Ainu guy was doing before—
"Mososo Kurrupe!" (Ice Quake)
The Mososo Kurrupe we all know and love had been super-sized to the proportion of a gigantic and translucent wall of ice in front of the spectator's eyes.
"Hm, squeezing out an Oversoul and overcharging Mososo Kurrupe this much is fairly difficult. Not bad" Anna commented offhandedly, for the entire world as if nothing was amiss.
'How can she be so unfazed?.!' Horohoro was left crouching after the massive feat and, as he saw the world through tear-filled eyes of shame, he didn't know if he would ever want to get up again 'I gave up, gave up on Yoh to do this, he's—'
Horohoro's face, masked with equal parts: pain and shame turned to a mask of shock as he saw the image of Yoh, distorted through his tears and ice, weaving through the cloud of death, eyes closed, body flowing just an inch short of impalement, an inch short of death as black needles of furyoku littered the ground around him, the space behind him, and the air above him; yet never touching him.
In a few seconds, the storm of metal had ended, yet it was a second which dragged on for an eternity. Burned into their minds, the Asakura trainee's would for generations talk of the great Yoh-sama, who danced in the face of death with a face serene. The sheer level of skill, the level of danger, the level of Yoh's lack of fear of that danger, and the level of constant tension that ensued caused some to pass out. Others emptied their stomachs in physical rejection of just what the hell they had seen before them.
"He-he dodged it… dodged it all" Jichimaru, the attacker, mumbled in awe. Was this Asakura Yoh? He-he couldn't be real, couldn't be human, he was somewhere above… above fate itself. As Jichimaru looked at his opponent, eyes still closed and surrounded by a ground littered with the black needles meant for his death, he truly believed for the first time: Asakura Yoh was invincible.
At some point during the barrage, Yoh had had to step onto the existing needles in the ground to continue dodging, there was simply nowhere else to step. And definitely, dodging on top of needles that would pierce your wooden sandals if you stepped on them too hard was now on Yoh's "make sure Anna doesn't think this will be good training in the future" list . 'Dodge: success' he thought in relief, 'that was harder than I imagined… I'm glad everyone is safe'. The next instant, the needles he was standing on, as well as those in the ground and those in the ice barrier behind him disappeared. Yoh dropped the short three inches to the ground that were now filled with air. 'A very limited life. But they were made of a furyoku that split several times, after all. At this time… the target should be pierced with needles, and with those gone, the target should now be bleeding openly… it really is a cold and efficient attack. I…' Yoh frowned, ' don't like it at all.'
Jichimaru looked as his opponent fell the three centimetres to the ground, eyes still closed. A second later, Jichimaru saw those eyes open and that face dip into a small, disapproving frown. The eyes narrowed slightly, and then, Asakura Yoh was gone.
"Wh-what? Where did he—"
Jichimaru's sentence was cut off by a heavy blow to his stomach. In awe, he was actually knocked back several steps. As he clutched his stomach with his left arm, the one not holding Oversoul, he looked up to see his disappeared opponent in front of him, arm still extended.
"How, h-how?" Jichimaru coughed out, what form of attack was that?
"All I did," Yoh whispered as he danced forwards and delivered a rain of light, successive blows, "was run low to the ground, and quickly. You didn't see me, just because… I wasn't standing where you thought I would still be standing and I wasn't moving at a speed you predicted I would move at. Assumptions are dangerous"
Jichimaru stumbled back from the blows, "W-wait! It's, it's impossible. You must be cheating!"
"Without a spirit, a shaman has nothing to put furyoku into..." he demanded, "he's just a normal human! You're using an Oversoul somehow, don't you people understand how a shaman's power works?.!" He appealed to the crowd.
Yoh frowned more deeply, by just a fraction. From the sideline, across a barrier of ice, Anna cut in coldly:
"Bakemono(fool), it doesn't matter what you think a shaman can and can't do, don't begin to think you know what an Asakura can do"
'She's sounds colder,' Horohoro thought 'colder than any ice of mine… even Anna must feel, and must feel rage. The coldest rage...'
"Kihaku-ken" (soul-sword) and in one flick of his wrist, a sword of solid blue furyoku appeared in Yoh's right hand. The blade seemed simple and unimpressive, but it had no body. It was a construct of pure furyoku, there was no Guardian Spirit being used. That fact alone made up for lack of ornamentation.
Whispers arose from the crowd such that only fragments of speech could be caught: "Kihaku-ken, such a high-level furyoku materialization…", "I thought it was a myth", "I thought it was supposed to be useless in a fight...", "Even Yohmei-sama can't…", "Such raw control…"
Yoh advanced forwards. It was not a run, and not quite a walk. It truly was as if his whole body flowed into one inevitable movement. Yoh brought the faintly shimmering, blue blade of furyoku down upon his opponents Oversoul.
With an explosive crash, that Oversoul was broken, Jichimaru was knocked back. Now unarmed, Jichimaru looked up from the floor where he landed at his opponent, at his better. He got to his feat, he was shocked and fearful, but his opponent was still without a spirit, without an Oversoul. He could win, he would win. With a roar, Jichimaru called his spirit into spirit-ball mode and slammed it into his medium once more. "Oversoul!"
But by the time his Oversoul was formed, Yoh was already there, bringing Kihaku-ken down once more in a decisive blow.
The explosion of broken Oversoul was a welcomed sound to the spectators.
Jichimaru smiled. He'd been knocked back, but that was to be expected, and he'd noticed something. This Asakura Yoh had a weakness after all. And what a weakness: the weakness of compassion. He had one full, glorious second between assaults. A courtesy time, he supposed, to let him gather his bearings, but a jump backwards and… "Oversoul!" then all he needed to do was put all furyoku into this last attempt. He turned around, away from his opponent, and grinned, almost fanatically as he raised his gigantic, 24 barrel, revolving, high-calibre gun-arm into the air "Medigo Barrage!"
Yoh's eyes had narrowed further in realization the second he'd seen Jichimaru's smile. By the time the Oversoul had been formed, he'd already been moving, not towards Jichimaru, but to the side of the surrounding crowd which Jichimaru turned to. 'Horohoro isn't on that side!'
"Hahaha!" Jichimaru laughed. Sure he'd be disqualified from the tournament, sure he'd be rend limb-from limb by the ensuing Asakura mob, but he would forever be remembered as Jichimaru, the shaman that took down Asakura Yoh! "Ahahahahaha! Finally! FINALLY!"
Yoh wasn't listening, Kihaku-ken was dispelled by the first second, by the second second a small ball of furyoku was being built, stoked inside his soul. On the brink of the third second, he was under the centre of the barrage of death, or close enough. He gave one last leap; the range would have to be made up in power 'let's go!'
To battle the descending cloud of death; in an instant, a raging hurricane of dispelled furyoku was born. It was bright, perhaps too bright to see. The quantity of raw furyoku exploding outwards was amazing. It was a blast of furyoku that rattled the shamanic sense.
Some thought they heard Yoh-sama's voice screaming throughout the dragging seconds as the torrential force of exploding furyoku reached past the tree-line, reached the needles of death in the air and blew straight past them, straight through them, as if blowing petals in the wind. Many averted their eyes, but all had to close their eyes as they, too were engulfed in the ethereal light. When the storm died out and the crowd looked back, they viewed the aftermath.
Yoh stood.
Panting, but still standing.
...The same could not be said of his opponent.
Jichimaru had been thwarted. Thwarted by Asakura Yoh in one fell swoop. Thwarted by a display of raw power beyond imagining, his entire attack, his Oversoul, and he himself had been banished, defeated.
"Jichimaru," Yoh began sadly as he walked up to meet his fallen opponent, "I think you've worked very hard, and your attacks are very efficient, but… there is no soul, you are detached from your target."
"If you cannot love other people's life," he continued, "and if you cannot pour your soul into your very hard work, into each battle, and into each dream, then just working very hard isn't enough"
"Promise me you won't use Medigo Barrage anymore."
As Jichimaru looked up into the large, sad, and somehow—someway—compassionate eyes of the victor, he wondered: was Asakura Yoh truly invincible? Or… 'W-was it me? Am I… the one that doesn't understand how a shaman's power works? I'm… almost relieved…' He was out of furyoku. Completely and utterly dry.
As the world span around him and faded… Jichimaru thought… he heard someone mumble "I promise".
A/N explanation: "Danna!" (I'm pretty sure Ryu doesn't call Yoh this, ever. And I'm pretty sure there is no word such as "Danna", however it popped into my mind that Ryu did call him so, for whatever reason, and so I will now go on and invent the word "Danna" as a title of respect because… I am just that awesome?)
A/N: yes. Fear my awesome, new, hybrid writing technique. It is fearful in its awesomeness, be not ashamed to admit it. I realize the lack of awesomeness in my recent writing, but the phase of transition is over. I am proud beyond compare. I hope you approve, because even if you don't, I am definitely taking this new style up as the path to awesomeness supreme. Fear it. And for the love of all things good: drop a review. Share your thoughts with the author. Like it? Hate it?
Just a reminder: I'm still updating my author's page with completion percentage status of the next chapters. You can see that my other project was scrapped (I lost interest, and appearently, my readers did too, at least so the statistics say.) so I'll have a little more effort cut out for this one. If you're a person who bookmarks fanfiction you like and check those bookmarks periodically (as I have done before) then you can just bookmark that author's page.
