The Gun & The Sword

Chapter II: Motoko's New Look

"Should I really be doing this?" Motoko thought as she raised her katana. She moved the blade towards herself and slashed inwards…..

------------------------------------------------The next morning…-------------------------------------------------

The tall man sighed over his breakfast. That kendo girl had been so beautiful, but he knew he hadn't a hope in hell of getting together with her. He had to be content with his fantasies. His only change to the girl in his delusions is that she had short hair. He liked that, though he didn't know why. Keiranto rolled here name around inside his head "Aoyama Motoko…..Motoko…."

A slight cough interrupted his daydreams. He looked up, straight into the face of the girl from his dreams. Dressed in a tight blouse and miniskirt, Motoko had even cut her hair. The rest of the Hinata girls were staring at her like she had grown horns, and Keitaro had a massive nosebleed. Motoko twirled round. "So," she said, "whadd'ya think?"

"Well, this is turning out to be an eventful morning," Keiranto thought. After Motoko's appearance at breakfast, Keitaro had been launched into the air by a massive Naru Punch™ for getting a nosebleed over her and the other residents had just stared on in shock. Motoko finally broke the silence by saying, "Keiranto-kun, would you be willing to help me with my studies this afternoon?"

"S-sure," he had stammered.

"Good," she said, "Shall we say, your room, after lunch?" and walked out.

Kitsune had been next to speak, "Well that was unexpected!"

He heard a knock on his door. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Motoko"

"Come in."

Motoko opened the door. She discreetly looked him over. Keiranto was wearing faded black cargo trousers and an unbuttoned shirt. He was tall, very tall, with a scar across his left cheek and a huge, unruly mop of curly hair to add to his height. It looked like one of those 1970's American styles, an ifro or an afri or something. She found herself looking at his chest and wondering what it would be like to be held against it. Her eyes were drawn to a number of small circular scars across the left side of his body. Before she could stop herself she blurted out, "How did you get those scars?"

"Huh", Keiranto said. He had been checking out Motoko too, running his eyes up her long, shapely legs over her flat stomach and beautiful face. He wondered what it would be like to hold her close to him. Her comment brought him out of his reverie.

"Uh, nothing," she said.

"Come on; just ask me, I won't be mad or embarrassed."

"Well, what I was asking was, err, how did you get those scars on your chest?" Motoko turned away, embarrassed that she had admitted looking at his chest.

"Oh, these," he said, "I took the business end of an AK47 in the terrorist strike on Adak Island."

"But that was about 8 or 9 years ago," she stammered.

"Yes, I was twelve at the time. I had gone to live there with my family after my father got a job with the US research centre on the island. A group of terrorists staged a seaborne assault on the island, trying to destroy the facility. There were thirty men, twenty five women and three children on the island but at least one hundred terrorists. I was the only survivor from either side. They had timed it well; the whole town was in a meeting in the main hall, apart from me. I had sneaked out to go practice my katas and only heard the explosion as they put four R.P.G.s into the building. They all died instantly, along with five of the terrorists who had strayed too close to the blast. I was up on the hill with my rifle and swords and started shooting them off, one by one. By the time I was out of rifle ammo, I used my pistol, and when that was empty, there were only twenty or so left, and they were panicking, thinking there was a large enemy force shooting at them. I ran down, swords in hand, and used my ki attacks, killing another ten. I decapitated the rest, but one survived. He shot me, and then slashed my cheek as a mark of his hatred. He left me there for dead, and sped off in his boat. I picked up one of the R.P.G.s the terrorists had dropped and blew his boat six feet out of the water. I was saved by a gunsmith who was fishing nearby but I lost a lot on that day, my parents and all I owned. The one thing I really miss was I used to have an alto saxophone made out of copper that my great grandfather gave me, I used to be able to get quite a good tune out of that thing."

Motoko listened in wonder to his story. He was such a brave and skilful warrior. She made a lightning decision. "Err, Keiranto-kun, could you teach me how to use a gun?"

"Of course, Motoko," He replied, "when do you want to start?"

"As soon as possible, please."

"Right, we'll need to go to Hokkaido to get you some weapons and targets, I know a good gunsmith there. Are you free tomorrow?"

"Yes, I haven't got anything planned; that would be good."

"Ok then, we'll need to leave quite early, shall we say seven o'clock? Wear strong, warm clothes, and boots, if possible."

"Thank you, Keiranto-kun," she said, "now, shall we study?"