Ch 21

V 1.0

Motoko and Keitaro both stepped into the marked area, halting three steps away from each other, Haruka between them and to the side. "Fighters turn and bow toward the official." Both fighters turned and bowed toward Haruka. "Now turn and bow toward each other." Motoko and Keitaro both bowed, both of them were keeping their eyes up and toward their opponent. "Swords at the ready…" Both fighters raised their bokken and gripped them with both hands. Raising her hand in the air as she stepped out of the circle, Haruka dropped it in a slicing motion. "…Start!"

For what seemed to be an eternal moment, the two fighters stared at each other, one set of brown eyes fixed upon another behind a set of squared off eyeglasses. They stood motionless, the only sound that of the light breeze rustling the grass and trees around them. But then a maple leaf drifted between the two of them and just before it touched the ground, Motoko moved…

With a loud crash, the two bokken clashed together, Motoko starting with an upper right slash, and his automatic deflection of the wooden blade as the two combatants stepped towards each other, trying to use the force and momentum of the strike to throw their opponent off balance. Motoko kept trying to step forward and push Keitaro back, but the dorm manager had dug in after the first step, anchoring himself in place. The kendoist rapidly withdrew her blade and attempted another attack from the opposite vector, but Keitaro had tracked the blade and had his own arcing in to meet it.

For a long minute, the two fighters exchanged blows as they slowly circled each other, Motoko always on the attack and advancing, Keitaro blocking and deflecting as he backed away, always moving at an angle so he would not be pushed out of the circle. Motoko's strikes came at a rapid rate as she tried to find an angle he could not block in time, quickly alternating between right, left, lower left and right, occasionally changing the pattern to prevent a counter-attack. However, Keitaro was strictly on defense as he blocked every strike.

After the pair had almost traced a full circle, beads of sweat were starting to form on Motoko's face from her exertions. She was used to doing constant sword attacks as part of her training drills, but it was a little different when doing them at full force against someone who was blocking and deflecting most of the force back at her.

After a moment, Motoko noticed something different was starting to occur. When the two fighters were moving, they had fallen into step, as their feet would touch the ground at about the same time and bracing themselves as the blows were exchanged. But now Keitaro was out of step with her, his foot would touch the ground before –

With a loud crack, Keitaro's bokken struck Motoko's blade, which she had barely brought up to guard just above her left shoulder. Instead of withdrawing the wooden blade for another strike, Keitaro pressed down full force and abruptly shoved forward, knocking Motoko off balance and backwards. She was barely able to stay on her feet and keep stumbling backwards as he pressed forward the attack, his bokken now arcing toward her sword arm…

Tsuruko stood in place as the duel began, and her sister started her attack on the dorm manager. It was nothing surprising, but as a skilled kendoist there was much to be said not showing your hand too early in the fight.

The elder kendoist had had nothing but bad feelings about this duel from the start, feelings that intensified as the day begun. Waking up on her own early in the morning, she had decided to watch the sun rise, only to find the manager already on the deck, leaning against the railing. He had heard her approach from behind him, even though she had been moving near silently, something that did not happen to her very often.

Talking to Urashima-san had disconcerted her somewhat. He was slightly tense to be sure, but otherwise there was no other sign that he was worried about the upcoming duel. Honestly, wishing her and her sister, his upcoming opponent, luck? It was something a high level master did in a fight with someone that he knew was a lower level than him. From little she knew about the young ronin, he was not a high dan kendoist.

But then when Haruka came to guide them to the dueling ground, they saw that Keitaro was kneeling on the ground, waiting for them to arrive, his sister and second standing behind him with a sword and bokken at the ready. Tsuruko's unease grew as she spied the sheathed katana in Kanako's belt. It looked like an ordinary sword, but there was some feeling, an itch at the back of her mind, when she looked at the sword for too long.

But that unease was nothing compared to the dread that swept through her when Keitaro-san rose to his feet, and she was able to see him clearly. It was nothing about his demeanor, nor the way he was dressed that affected her so, but the sight of the belt that was wrapped and tied off about his waist. The blood red belt with the Urashima crest embroidered on one end.

As much as the Aoyama trained to master their school of sword fighting, or other people learned their various forms of martial arts, the one thing that the serious practitioners never really talked about was the final rationale of their training. The penultimate purpose of martial arts might be to defend against attack, but ultimately the true martial arts were developed and taught and learned in order to kill people.

In these modern times, no one truly expected white and black garbed Aoyama warrior-priests to go forth and battle demons or rampaging samurai. They trained mostly with bokken for safety reasons, to keep the participants from being injured or even killed during practice. The number of students they had had steadily dropped, not that they had many in this century. The dozens of students training at one time in the 1800's had fallen to maybe a couple dozen in the 1950's, after the Occupation authorities had relaxed their proscription on martial training, to the half dozen they had start every year, of which maybe half would make it to dan rank. Almost every other martial arts school was the same, as their proud and distinguished heritage slowly but surely became a historical memory.

But the Urashima were different. They had never sugar-coated what they taught to family members and close friends of the family. While they had their code of conduct and behavior, the Urashima style was for one purpose – to defend themselves and those that could not defend themselves, with lethal force if need be. They did not restrict themselves to one set system, striving to perfect what they already knew and never seeking to change or improve it. The Urashima took anything that would make them a more effective fighter and incorporated it into their system. Meanwhile, there had been no significant change to the Aoyama God's Cry School, both armed and unarmed, in almost two centuries, and when there had been change in the beginning of their history, it had been for the most Darwinian of reasons; if what you knew and learned did not work, you changed it or you died. The Urashima had been much more practical from the beginning, always learning, always changing, keeping what worked and tossing out what did not.

The Urashima red belt was a warning to those who knew what it meant. It was their way, in the insular world of martial arts, of saying I have taken life to protect life, and I will do it again if need be. Beware. Tsuruko knew the significance of the red belt worn by Keitaro; Motoko did not, and she did not have a chance to warn her younger sister.

Watching as the two fighters circled as their bokken clashed, Tsuruko could see what Keitaro was doing by staying on the defensive. First, he was letting Motoko tire herself with constant attacks while be merely blocked and conserved his energy. Secondly, and more importantly, he was observing her attack pattern. Every pattern had a weakness, even if Motoko kept changing it to prevent from being tracked, and if Keitaro managed to figure it out…

Contrary to what some people thought, Keitaro did not like swordfighting.

That was not to say he was not good at it. He had been on the verge of his second dan rank when he had graduated from high school, and once he had left, he had stopped any serious training in it, except for running through an occasional kata with a stick somewhere. His practice with Kanako the day before had been the first time he had seriously practiced since school. But he found himself slipping back into the familiar rhythm, the decision cycle of observe, orient, decide and act as each sword strike roared in and he would bring in his own blade to block, for now.

Fighting someone who seriously trained in swordfighting was not easy, but then again, it was not supposed to be. Unless your family school taught you the tricks for turning someone's fighting system against them.

Keitaro carefully watched Motoko as she attacked him, but not just sword strikes and attack angles. He watched her breathing, her grip, the set of her shoulders, the placement of her feet. But most of all he watched for her tells, the way her eyes locked onto the next targeted area, the way her shoulders would turn to square with the direction she was striking next, how her feet would brace before lashing out.

After observing Motoko for a long minute, and seeing that she was starting to get winded and frustrated, Keitaro made his move. Instead of withdrawing from blocking her next strike, he applied force and shoved forward, throwing her off balance. Quickly reversing his bokken, he arced in toward her unprotected sword arm. She was able to twist her arm so he would not hit the funny bone and cause her to drop her sword, but it was still a solid hit, and it hurt.

Going on the offensive, Keitaro began his own attack run, unleashing a rapid series of strikes toward Motoko's arms and upper shoulders. The young kendoist was blocking, but barely as he went right-left-right-right-left-right-left-left-right, his strikes coming in at random directions.

Keitaro could see that he was pushing Motoko back toward the circle's edge, and she did not quite realize it. If she passed the line, he would win, but that was not what he need to do. He could not just win, he needed to beat her, figuratively, and literally.

Halting in place, Keitaro held his sword in a guard and breathed more heavily that he need to, trying to give the impression that he was getting tired. Motoko halted as well, looking slightly surprised that he stopped his attack. But after a few moments she started advancing toward him, intending to start her attack anew, but Keitaro had different plans.

As soon as Motoko started her next strike, an overhead right, Keitaro brought his bokken up in a overhead block as well… only using his left hand. He could not hold off more than one or two strikes with one hand, but he did not need to. For as soon as the two bokken locked together, Keitaro stepped in close and low, and unleashed a right handed concussive punch into Motoko's lower ribs.

As Motoko fell back, wide-eyed and gasping for breath, Keitaro pressed forward. He was too close to swing his bokken again, but that did not mean he could not use it still. Pulling his left hand downward, as soon as his hand and the handle were at stomach level he drove the bottom of the handle up and into her belly, knocking the rest of her breath out of her. He gave her another shove and knocked her down on her butt, a step away from the circle's edge.

"Yield, Motoko-san." Keitaro's laconic words were the first spoken since the start of the duel.

"Never." Motoko's reply was equally succinct, but less intimidating due to her puffing for breath.

Nonetheless, Keitaro took two steps back and switched sides with his bokken so it was down next to his right leg and watched as the female kendoist came to her feet and took up a guard stance, abet a bit shakily. She started to sidestep so she would not be next to the circle line and Keitaro followed, turning so he was facing her but keeping his bokken at his side. He knew what she was probably going to try next, and was ready for it.

As soon as his back was to the circle, Motoko launched herself at him, her bokken up for a medium overhead strike. Waiting until she was two steps away from him and committed to the attack, Keitaro sidestepped to the left, reversed the bokken in his hand so the blade was now along his right arm, and blocked the descending blade with it. With his left hand he punched her in the ribs again, this time on the opposite side, stopping her cold.

"Isn't this getting a little old, Motoko-san?" Keitaro asked in a slightly questioning tone of voice. Of course it did nothing to calm Motoko's flaming temper.

Growling, she took a couple of steps back, brought her bokken up in a two handed grip, and slashed down, screaming "Rock Splitting Sword!" and launching a wave of blue ki at Keitaro.

Seeing the wooden blade start to glow before the attack was launched, Keitaro dove forward and down to get away from the energy attack as soon as the glowing bokken was leveled at him. Literally hitting the dirt, the Urashima rolled to the side and up into a crouch before coming to a low standing position and then realizing that he had dropped his bokken when he dove to the ground and it was now on the dirt a couple steps behind him. Oops.

Seeing this, Motoko gave a grin that would only be described as gloating as she started to wind up her bokken up for another ki attack. "Finally, you will get what you deserve, you male! Evil Splitting Blade!"

Shocking everyone present, Keitaro did not dodge this attack. He stood in place as the blue energy attack flew toward him… and hit him… and flew past him to hit the trees behind him with a crash, leaving him unharmed.

"You know, that attack only works when the person you are targeting has malicious intent." Keitaro cocked an eyebrow at Motoko, which served only to enrage her.

"Die!" Leveling her bokken at him, Motoko rushed him, seeming intent on impaling her with the point.

Standing in place as the maddened kendoist rushed him again, only this time he was not armed. No matter, for as soon as Motoko was a mere step away from him, Keitaro simultaneously stepped to the side, and channeling chi to his arm, lashed out with his flattened left hand, shattering her bokken, leaving her holding only the handle.

"Yield Motoko-san, you can't beat me." This served to enrage Motoko more, and she rushed him again, the handle still in hand, a jagged splinter sticking out of it.

As Keitaro dodged her rush, Haruka, seeing that the handle was now lethal, yelled out, "Motoko, halt or forfeit! HALT!" As the kendoist kept charging and Keitaro dodged again, Haruka finally yelled "Motoko, you are disqualified!"

Hearing the magic words, both Tsuruko and Kanako stepped into the circle to assist. But since Tsuruko had been holding the bokken she had with her left hand only, her right hand automatically went the katana in her belt. Kanako saw this happen, thought the worst of it, and all Hell broke loose as she dropped her bokken and drew the Juuchi Yosamu.

Kanako used chi to reinforce her body for fighting, so when she drew the Ten Thousand Cold Nights sword, she unconsciously channeled some to the blade. The cursed katana, already giving off its distinctive cold chi once the seals were broken, suddenly increased its chi signature a hundredfold; to anyone with any kind of chi sensitivity, it was the equivalent of walking into their bedroom at 4 AM while they were sound asleep and cranking on a chainsaw.

As Tsuruko and Haruka froze in place, Keitaro's eyes snapped over to his sister, who was starting to glow and her hair was rise as though in an unfelt breeze as she held the demonic blade . Quickly looking back at Motoko, who was still charging him, he pushed his palms toward Motoko and roared out "Hadouken!" (Surge Fist) A stream of blue chi energy was fired from his hands, caught her squarely and blew her back and down, leaving her unconscious.

Wheeling toward his sister, Keitaro started to walk toward her. "Kanako-chan, put the sword away. Please, the fight is over, put the sword away, Kana-chan."

The dark haired girl was standing in place, glowing and vibrating. After a moment, she gritted out through a clenched jaw, "Kei-kun… need… blood…"

Instantly understanding, Keitaro looked over at his aunt and barked out, "Haruka! Knife!" Nodding shakily, she reached into her gi top and pulled out a kaiken tanto and passed it to him. Quickly slashing his left palm, Keitaro held his bleeding hand over the trembling blade and let it stream down on it. Looking over at his sister, he ordered in a calmer voice, "Kana-chan, try and calm down, OK?" She gave a jerky nod, and after a few moments, the glowing and cold chi dropped down, soon reaching its previous level. "OK, put it away now, Kana-chan." he ordered, and this time, Kanako was able to shakily sheath the sword. As soon as the blade was completely in the sheath, Keitaro snatched it away from her and pulled her into a rough hug, Kanako crumpling against him.

"Onii-chan…!" Kanako was sobbing in Keitaro's shoulder. "It felt so cold, and hungry… it wanted your blood… I could barely hold back…" The younger Urashima was trembling in his arm.

"It's done with, Kana-chan. The fight's over, and I'm not hurt. It's over." Keitaro looked over at Tsuruko and Haruka, who was staring at the sheathed sword.

"Is that what I think it is?" Tsuruko could not take her eyes off the cursed blade. There was only one type of blade in history that looked like it did and needed to drink blood. "Is that a Muramasa?"

Keitaro raised his eyes to Tsuruko's and looked at her steadily. For a long moment, Tsuruko felt the coldness of the demon blade anew, and then realized it was not from the sword, but from the young Urashima. Shivering, she looked away. "Pardon my rudeness." Turning, she walked toward her sister still prone on the ground.

"Haruka. I think I need a bandage." With a start, the older Urashima looked at Keitaro's hand, and while it was not bleeding heavily, it was still oozing. Reaching under her gi again, she pulled out a handkerchief and starting wrapping it around his hand. Looking at the sheath that Keitaro was now holding in his other hand, she could not see much blood on it, just a few smears. Given that the cut on Keitaro's hand was still bleeding, it could only mean the sword was absorbing the blood through the sheath, she realized with a shudder.

Looking over at Tsuruko, who was kneeling next to her sister, Keitaro glanced at Haruka and with his free arm gestured toward her. Understanding his intention, she stepped up close to him and he put his arm around her. Holding both his kin close, Keitaro was finally able to close his eyes and relax for a moment, even if there were still things left to do.

A/N – Sorry for the delay in posting this, but what hand to hand combat training I have in RL does not include swordfighting, which makes it hard to write a scene about characters that are supposed to know what they are doing while using it. I do hope it came out OK.

As for the energy attacks, in canon Motoko and Tsuruko both used the 'Evil Cutting Blade' attack on Keitaro with no ill effect, in Tsuruko's case to destroy a truck that was about to run Keitaro over. In this story, it was a risk that Keitaro was willing to take. And as to the 'Hadouken' attack, why should only the Aoyama have all the fun? It is a Down Right Awesome attack. *g* The Urashima can at least use and focus chi/ki for their martial arts, so having one actual ki attack is not outside the realm of possibility. A cookie to anyone who identifies where that attack come from… I still have a couple of cookies left that I was going to give out for whoever identified where the Juuchi Yosamu originally came from, but no one ever did. I gave the final clue/answer in this chapter.

Thanks to PCH for a very quick and through beta read.

A/N 2 – As of 0845 PDT 23Oct11, this story has 73,464 Hits, 175 Reviews, 20 C2 listings, 274 Favorite listings, and 245 Story Alerts. Thanks again guys. *thumbs up*