Chapter Four

Kurama and I stood still, appraising each others' defenses and looking for any hint of an opening to exploit. He held his Grass Blade like a fencer, body held to the side with his right side facing me, left hand on his hip and his legs facing forward and held slightly apart, the blade held in front of him in a position where it could be used to thrust or block as the situation called for.

I also kept my body to the side, and my right side was also the one facing him, feet facing forward, my left leg was directly under my body while the right was held apart, knee slightly bent as I stood on the ball of my heel. Both of my arms faced Kurama, bent at the elbow so that the upper arms were parallel to my torso. My right hand formed a fist, while my left was held with palm upraised as though in a "stop" gesture.

We circled each other slowly, both of us hoping for some kind of advantage. Finally, Kurama lunged forward, repeatedly thrusting his Grass Blade at me. I nimbly dodged each blow with as little movement as possible, countering with quick punches with my right arm that he dodged just as easily I did.

Finally, I saw my chance and grabbed his blade mid-thrust between the finger and thumb of my left hand and threw a punch with my right. Kurama quickly let go of the blade so that he could step back, just out of my fist's reach…

And was knocked back when by my Ripple-infused punch struck him square in the face. I pressed the attack by stepping forward with a flurry of blows. With some difficulty, Kurama managed to dodge them all, until he tried once again to back away from a blow instead of dodging. Once more, he was struck by the punch, this time to his stomach. However, I was unable to press my luck a second time, as he had grown a new Grass Blade as he dodged and stabbed up at the air where my arm had been; if I hadn't thrown myself to the side at the last second, he would have stabbed right through my wrist. As it was, I got off with a light scratch on my hand.

"Ah, so that's how it works. Somehow, you're able to stretch your arm. I wasn't able to see it the first time; the perspective meant I was looking directly into your fist, and so couldn't see your arm extending. In order to better observe it I had to deliberately leave an opening at my stomach for you to capitalize on," Kurama said, retaking his fencer's pose.

I smirked, once again taking my combat stance as we stood apart and circled one another. "So you deliberately left yourself open and took the second punch, just so you could figure out how I landed the first one. A clever move; gutsy too. Your analysis is dead on: Sendo is more than just a simple fighting style, or a particular method for harnessing spirit energy: it's a way of mastering one's own body.

"Using my energy to loosen and stretch the muscles and joints, I was able to extend the length of my arm. The same energy that allowed me to do that also kept me from feeling any pain, and then contracted all of it back into place. It also kept enough force in the blow to hurt you when it connected. It's a technique called the Zoom Punch."

"A clever technique with interesting implications, if what you say is true. But now that I've identified it, its tactical value is almost nothing. In fact, using it becomes a liability. It is less an attack and more a trick to catch the unwary or ignorant off-guard, or to finish off an enemy already off their guard. In order to dodge my Grass Blade, you had to move your entire body; I would surmise that you can't move your arm easily or quickly while it is extended," Kurama said.

I clicked my tongue in annoyance. He was right; I'd realized the first time I successfully pulled it off in practice that the Zoom Punch was really only effective when your opponent didn't know what you were doing, or just couldn't do anything about it for whatever reason. I'd hoped I'd get more mileage out of it, since I had only nailed down one other technique that I could use in this environment that he hadn't already seen.

Kurama and I continued to circle each other. This time I made the first move, rushing the redhead. Kurama retaliated with a horizontal slash. Stopping short, I kicked the blade up into the air to parry it, then pumped energy into my leg to jump into the air from my prone position and then kick Kurama in the side of his head, knocking him to the ground.

He recovered almost the instant he hit the ground and reached into his hair for seeds again, this time growing three roses, each held between his fingers.

"Rose Dart!" he called out, throwing one of the roses at my foot at great speed. I dodged by jumping back as the rose embedded itself stem-first several inches into the ground.

"Rose Dart!" he yelled again, throwing one rose after the other, forcing me to keep dodging his projectiles. All of them were aimed at my legs and feet; apparently he wanted to restrict my range of motion. I was able to keep dodging them, but it became a little harder every time, as he maneuvered me into more awkward positions; some of them were able to nick me here and there. If this kept up, he'd get lucky with his shots sooner rather than later.

As I rolled on the ground to dodge the next barrage of roses, I pulled several of the roses that had already been thrown out of the ground.

"Those roses are useless to you!" Kurama called out. "I've only inserted enough demon energy in my Rose Darts to strengthen them until they make contact; once it's expended, they're simple garden variety roses."

My reply was to throw one of the roses at him. In his surprise, he barely dodged it, and the rose sheared off a few strands of his vibrant red hair as it whizzed past his head.

I threw all but one of the remaining four roses in quick sequence, forcing him to dodge them, running forward as I did so and delivering a punishing flying knee to his stomach. He collapsed on all fours, gasping for breath.

I held the last rose up to his neck. "Plants may be your specialty, but I'd say I have a bit of a green thumb myself. I think this is my win. Feel like telling me what you plan to do with the Forlorn Hope yet?" I asked.

Shakily, he started to laugh. That wasn't a good sign. "Actually, I believe the victory is mine," he said, holding a hand up towards me. That definitely wasn't a good sign.

A deep purple vine launched itself from under his sleeve and wrapped itself around my neck, constricting like a python. As its strangling grip tightened, I dropped the rose as I instinctively grabbed the vine with my hands, trying to pull it off of my neck.

"That is the Strangler Vine, an aptly named plant native to Spirit World," Kurama calmly explained as he stood up, hand still on his stomach as he caught his breath. He stepped back just far enough that I couldn't reach him. "Your Sendo techniques are reliant on a special breathing pattern, correct? Then the best option to neutralize you is obviously to restrict your breathing. Don't worry; I'll release you once you lose consciousness. You had no time to inhale much air, so you should lose consciousness in less than a minute. I'm sorry, but this fight is over."

So that was his plan from the beginning. My enhanced respiratory system was helping to protect me, but unless I could break free I'd still be choked out eventually; it would just take a few minutes as opposed to less than one.

Removing my left hand from the vine, I made a "gun" gesture and pointed the index finger at the vine where it wrapped around the front of my neck, taking care to point it away from my body, and fired the Spirit Gun.

"What!?" Kurama cried out.

The vine was broken, and I quickly tore the rest of it from my neck. Rushing Kurama, I laid into him with several furious punches charged by what little was left of my energy, ending with an uppercut that launched him several inches into the air and sent him crashing to the ground. This time, he didn't get up.

"I'll admit, that was a very cunning plan, hiding the vine under your jacket while you grew it to a good enough size to strangle me with, then releasing it when I got close," I said, breathing heavily. "Restricting my breathing was also a good idea. The only flaw was that you apparently forgot that I'm not completely reliant on Sendo. The Spirit Gun isn't quite as versatile as my Sendo techniques, but it gets the job done just as well in a pinch."

I moved to take a step, but my foot was caught on something. Looking down, I gasped in shock, as another deep purple vine was growing out from the ground and coiling around my foot, moving up my leg rapidly.

"Admittedly, that was a rather grievous oversight on my part," Kurama said, still lying on the ground as I struggled with the vine rapidly growing up my leg. "Luckily, I made sure to grow much more of the Strangler Vine than I needed, just in case; I kept most of it in reserve. And as I recall, the Spirit Gun is a technique that can only be used once in a day."

I looked at him as the Strangler Vine reached my waist, and saw the vine poking out from his left sleeve, burrowing into the ground next to his hand. That was where it was coming from! Well, there was a time for trump cards, and this was it.

The docks, as it turned out, were a common hangout for delinquents and thugs. There were more than a few warehouses that weren't used often or just plain abandoned, so they were often used as impromptu meeting places. I'd found this out firsthand while searching the place for signs of Hiei and Kurama. More than a few had picked a fight, but they were so weak and unskilled that I hadn't even needed to expend any spirit energy to kick their asses.

More importantly, a few had pulled knives on me, and I'd kept an especially nice butterfly knife (which probably wasn't legal in Japan, come to think of it). Pulling it from my pocket I quickly unfolded it and, channeling energy through it, strengthened it enough to start hacking away at the vines creeping up on me. It was no Metal Silver Overdrive, but it would do.

I could only barely keep up, though; I had to be careful with my cuts, and the vines grew at a rapid rate, and had spread halfway up my torso.

Thinking quickly, I threw myself forward onto the ground to land right beside Kurama, severing the Strangler Vine at the point where it started burrowing into the ground. The vine coiling around me, having lost the source of demonic energy that fueled it, stopped growing, and I sliced it to ribbons and rolled away from Kurama to avoid being caught by vines again.

I lunged at him with my Ripple-infused knife while Kurama forced himself into a sitting position. Before he could finish getting up, I held the knife to his throat, right at his jugular. "Alright, unless you've got another trick to pull, I think we're done here," I said wearily.

"I do, actually, but I agree with your assessment nonetheless," Kurama said with a smile. Blinking in surprise, I looked down and saw that he wasn't the only one with a blade held to his vitals. Somehow Kurama had gotten a Grass Blade the size of a knife without me noticing, and was currently holding it to my chest, just over my heart.

"Heh, looks like we've got an old-fashioned Mexican standoff," I said. "So… where do you think we should go from here?"

"I believe I will concede the victory," Kurama said with a sigh. "You are obviously willing to risk your own life, or to kill me, if I continue to refuse to reveal what I intend to wish for. I must be alive to make the wish at all, so I have no choice but to take a chance and hope that you will agree with my goals."

Lowering my butterfly knife, I held out my hand to help him up. Blinking in surprise he took it. Dusting himself off, he took a deep breath and began his story.

Kurama's motivation was exactly as I remembered it. After hearing him out (though he neglected to mention the price the Forlorn Hope extracted, and I neglected to ask), I agreed that his wish was worth making, and promised not to interfere. With little else left to say, we both parted ways. Or rather, Kurama started asking me questions about myself and I decided to opt out and head back home. Kurama's really far too perceptive and cunning for me to be comfortable telling lies or half-truths to, and I certainly couldn't tell the truth, so I decided discretion was the better part of deception.

The three days had passed uneventfully; we immediately went out to search the city each day after school and found nothing except for occasional traces of Hiei's demon energy. Even those felt like they were left deliberately, as though Hiei was taunting us. Both Yusuke and I did find a weak demon or two; some were causing trouble and were quickly caught and turned over to Botan, who sent them to Spirit World for judgment, while others were just keeping their heads down and surviving in the Human World. For demons as weak as them, this place was a paradise compared to Demon World, and they didn't want to jeopardize a safe existence here for cheap thrills. At least, that's what they told me. They were left alone with a warning to keep up the good behavior, or else.

On the third day, the sun was just starting to set when I decided I was done looking for the day. I'd promised Kurama I wouldn't interfere with his wish, but that didn't mean I wouldn't be there, after all. I kind of wanted to meet the woman who turned a murderous demonic thief into a total momma's boy (albeit with a vicious streak a mile wide).

Unfortunately, my plan had two flaws: the first was that I couldn't remember how to find the place. The second was that a couple of street punks had decided that now was the time to pick a fight. About a dozen of them, in fact, all looking like the cat that caught the canary. They were all armed: baseball bats, wooden swords, etc. One of them had a particularly long switchblade.

"Well hey there, buddy, you lost? This is a dangerous part of town, you know. You go walking around like you own the place, might get into trouble," the thug with the switchblade said. He had a reedy, nasal voice, his face was rather ratlike, and he was tall and wiry.

"Hehe, yeah. But don't worry, we'll help you out, pal. We won't even charge you too much for it," said another, this one a big meathead hefting a baseball bat.

"Hey wait, I saw this guy hangin' out with Urameshi!" another punk declared, pointing at me. "Yeah! He was standing off to the side while Urameshi was beatin' on some guys from Hirin, and when he was done with'em Urameshi walked off right along with this punk like they was friends or somethin'!"

"Oooh, is that right?" Switchblade said, his face contorting in a cruel parody of a grin. "Friends with Urameshi, huh? 'Fraid you got bad taste in friends, buddy. See that little shit's been humiliating us all for way too long, it's got us kinda… pent up, you know? So no offense, but I think we're gonna hafta spend some time taking it out on you."

"Is that so?" I said, one corner of my mouth lifting in amusement and my hands in my pockets, looking cool as you please. "The twelve of you, all with weapons, against me, with my bare hands? Seems kind of unfair, if you ask me."

"Well sorry to say, but we ain't really the kinda guys that believe much in fair fights," Switchblade said, almost leering now at the prospect of causing pain to the friend of his enemy.

"Well it's your lucky day, 'cause this ain't gonna be a fair fight!" a voice called out. Looking to the source of the voice on our right, I saw one Kazuma Kuwabara and his three lackeys whose names I never remembered. I'd actually seen them around – we were in the same class, after all – but we hadn't talked as of yet.

"'Cause I'm worth a hundred of you punks all by myself!" he continued boastfully.

"Fuck you say, you little bitch!?" one of the punks yelled, brandishing a wooden sword. "Like we need to hear that from the dumbass who gets his clock cleaned by Urameshi every fuckin' day!"

"It's not as though any of you, no matter your numbers, have ever done any better," I pointed out, drawing their attention back to me. "At least he's man enough to fight Yusuke himself, instead of trying to beat up people who hang out with him because he's too chickenshit to take him on twelve to one."

"You motherfucker!" the meathead with the baseball bat yelled, charging me. I heard gasps of shock from Kuwabara and his friends – there was no way any of them could reach me in time. The thug brought his bat down to strike me right in the skull, yelling savagely.

He never got the chance to touch me. With a single blow to the stomach he collapsed on top of me, falling over unconscious and draping himself limply over my shoulder. Clicking my tongue in annoyance I pushed him off me and let him hit the ground, brushing off my shoulder.

"I told you it wasn't going to be a fair fight," I said coldly, as the thugs looked at me with fear in their eyes. "And I meant it. I'm worth a thousand of you losers all by myself."

"Hey, that was my line! Wait a minute, a thousand! Are you tryin' to say you're ten times stronger than me!?" Kuwabara yelled indignantly. Everyone else was just staring at me, dumbstruck.

I chose not to respond and instead charged forward at the thugs, taking out three of them before they even knew I was there with a single roundhouse kick. By the time their brains processed what happened I'd taken out another with a smack to the side of the head that sent him straight to the ground. By the time they had raised their weapons to attack me I'd knocked out two others by slamming my outstretched palms into their chests, sending them flying back several feet to crash to the ground. And by the time Kuwabara had run over to me, they were all down for the count.

I looked at him as he reached me. "I didn't really need the help, but you couldn't have known that, so thank you very much for trying. People talk about you as though you're just another punk, but it seems like you have a sense of honor after all."

He perked up at that. Good; I'd worried I might be laying it on a bit thick. "Well, I mean, it's true that not many people these days understand what bein' a man's all about," he said, hands on his hips and chin thrust heroically into the air. "But I'm Kazuma Kuwabara, buddy! I'm a man of honor, through and through!"

He dropped the pose and looked at me. "So you're the new student, right? The one in our class? Ten-something?"

"Tenchi," I corrected him. "Tenchi Higashikata."

"Right, that was it," he said with a nod. He extended his hand for me to shake, which I did. "Those were some pretty cool moves out there. You looked like something out of a kung fu movie!"

"I do practice martial arts," I admitted with a smile.

"Practice? Are you kidding? That was way more than 'practice!'" One of the Kuwabara's friends said, as the three of them had gotten over their shock and followed their leader over to me. "I couldn't even see some of those moves, they were so fast!"

"Just remember: it's all in the breathing," I said jokingly. "Nice to meet you all, by the way, but I don't think I know any of your names."

"I'm Hiro Kirishima," one of the three spoke up; the tallest one, with a rather generic face and messy sand-colored hair.

"Taro Sadamura," said the one with the shaved head.

"Ichiro Okubo," piped up the portly one with black hair styled like a greaser.

"So uh, Tenchi, right? Is what those guys said about you being friends with Urameshi true?" Okubo asked.

At that question, the three started sending nervous glances at Kuwabara. "Well, sort of, I guess," I said. "We've hung out a few times, at least."

"Wow, seriously? Gotta say man, your taste in friends is kinda whack," Kuwabara said without a hint of irony.

I tried to stifle a laugh. "Yeah, well, the principal assigned Keiko Yukimura to help show me around school when I transferred, and she introduced us, so…"

"Oh, that's right, I did see you talking to Keiko a few times. She's a nice girl," he said with a sage nod. "Don't know what she sees in that punk Urameshi, though…"

"There's someone out there for everyone, I suppose," I said, remembering a certain teal-haired ice maiden. "Just look at is as proof that even guys like you can find someone willing to give them the time of day."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean!?" Kuwabara asked indignantly. "And hey! Don't think I forgot what you said about being ten times stronger than me!"

"And? You calling me a liar?" I asked with a teasing grin.

"Heck yeah I am! I'm the second-toughest punk at Sarayashiki Junior High, and soon I'll be the first!" Kuwabara proclaimed.

"Well, I'm not a punk, so your position's in no danger from me," I pointed out. "You'll just have to be content with the fact that I'll always be the strongest fighter in Sarayashiki."

"Oh, them's fightin' words pal!" Kuwabara declared hotly.

"That's why I said them," I pointed out with a smile. "It'll be nice to have someone to spar with, even if you're only a step up from beating up a sandbag."

More importantly, it would be a good start to helping him train later, to keep him from falling behind the others as a fighter.

Without further ado, Kuwabara and I took up stances. Well, I took up a stance, Kuwabara just kind of hunched over and raised his fists in a pale imitation of a boxer. "Alright, punk, I hope you've enjoyed your kung fu movie moment, because now you're going to feel my Fists of Fury!"

"Huh. That's actually not a bad reference. I approve," I said as Okubo, Sawamura and Kirishima all hastily moved out of the way. "Your use of it came off as a little forced though; you might want to work on that."

"Are we gonna fight or trade banter tips!?"

"Ladies first."

"That's it!" Kuwabara yelled, throwing a slow, telegraphed punch for my face. I used my hand to divert the attack and then stepped around Kuwabara, causing him to awkwardly hop around on one foot as his fist sailed through the air where my head had been and losing his balance.

"Too slow, and you telegraph all your moves," I said critically. "No wonder you can't hit Yusuke." I'd seen Yusuke fighting a few thugs; he didn't really have a lick of finesse either, but he was pretty fast and hit damn hard. Relatively speaking, at least.

"Shut up!" Kuwabara yelled, throwing a flurry of punches that I easily dodged with small, simple movements to the left and right. Moving past him, I swept his legs out from under him, sending him tumbling to the ground as I turned around to face him again, taking a few steps back to allow him some room.

"Your footwork is awful, too. If you're going to rely on punches so much, you need to at least ensure you have good footwork, otherwise anyone who knows how to throw a kick or aim for your legs will be all over you."

"Shut it! Except for Urameshi, I've never lost a fight in my life!"

"Yeah, and who were you fighting? Thugs like these guys?" I asked, jabbing a finger at the unconscious bodies I'd left where they fell. "Guys even more clueless about a fight than you, with nothing but experience to guide them and without even the benefit of your natural physical strength?

"If you really want to be a fighter – if you really want to be a match for Yusuke – you need to stop measuring yourself by the standards of street punks and aim for something higher. You've got the potential in spades," I said encouragingly.

"I – what the hell are you playing at in the middle of a fight!?" Kuwabara yelled incredulously.

"Teaching. A fight's worthless if you don't learn anything from it," I explained. "Well, a fight like this is, at least. And besides, I hate seeing people not live up to their potential, and you definitely aren't."

As Kuwabara processed that statement, I walked over to the unconscious thugs and picked up one of the wooden swords they'd wielded. As Kuwabara's friends looked on nervously, I tested it out of a few times. Not bad; kind of cheap though. It would do.

I threw it to Kuwabara, who caught it easily, and picked up a second one. Not very good, but it would do. I walked up to Kuwabara until I was just a few feet away from him and took up a kendo-like stance. "You seem like you'd be well-suited to using a sword. Let's try this again, alright?"

"… You're freaking weird, you know that?" he said bluntly, before tightening his grip on the wooden sword. "Alright, fine, but don't say I didn't warn you!"

I easily ducked his swing and then jabbed him hard in his wrist, causing his grip to slacken on the sword.

"You're holding that sword like it's a baseball bat," I criticized. "And your attacks are just as telegraphed as before. That's a big problem with a sword, because all of your opponent's attention is on it from the beginning."

Spinning around rapidly, Kuwabara struck another mightly slash. This time I blocked it, our "blades" locked together. I held back on my strength so it looked like Kuwabara was gaining the upper hand (which caused his cheering section to start shouting encouragement) – I didn't want to shatter his confidence or anything, so I figured I could at least pretend he had greater strength to balance out my skill and speed – but then I suddenly broke from the blade lock and flipped through the air to kick him square in the side of the head, landing cleanly on my feet. I stepped back as Kuwabara quickly got back to his feet; his ability to take a hit certainly lived up to the hype.

"Better, but you fell into the same trap most people do when fighting with swords; you paid too much attention to the swords themselves and forget that they're being wielded by people. A sword is an extension of your body, but all that means is that it's a single extra limb. You don't ignore all your other limbs and only punch with one arm, right? It's fine to favor one, but you still need to use the others and pay attention to them."

As Kuwabara rushed in for another blow and I readied myself to block it, both of us froze in our tracks, our eyes widening in shock and fear.

Frantically, I leapt away and ran towards Kuwabara's friends at full speed, dive-tackling Okubo just as a short black-clad demon stabbed the air Okubo had occupied with a demonic sword.

I kicked off with my hands to launch myself feet-first at Hiei, who easily dodged the kick and attempted to bisect me with a single downward slash.

I blocked steel with wood, channeling energy through the wooden sword to give it the strength to block the attack.

"Go!" I yelled at Kuwabara's friends as Okubo slowly got to his feet, Hiei and I erupting into a flurry of slashes and blocks that was slowly forcing me back. "Get out now! I can't fight him and protect you at the same time!"

"Listen to him!" Kuwabara shouted, readying his wooden sword. "You guys go get the cops; let us handle this!"

"W-We'll be back soon Kazuma! Just don't get hurt!" Sawamura implored as the three of them began running at full speed to a police station or a pay phone.

"Kuwabara, you leave too! You can't handle this!" I shouted.

Kuwabara ignored me and charged in with a shout, sword upraised to deliver a mighty downward swing. Hiei leapt back to get out of my range and, without even looking back, kicked Kuwabara in the side and sent him flying several feet away, hacking and coughing.

"So you're Tenchi Higashikata, the boy who both defeated Gohki and fought Kurama to a draw. I must say, I'm… somewhat less than impressed. I was expecting someone less sentimental," he said coolly.

"I could say the same for you, Hiei of the Jagan. I was expecting someone a bit less… tiny," I retorted.

"I'm sure I'll seem much taller once I've cut you in half," Hiei threatened, readying his blade again.

Coughing and hacking, Kuwabara got to his feet, wooden sword at the ready again. "You even try it and you'll have me to answer to, you little punk!"

"Kuwabara! Get out! You can feel his energy, can't you!? He's not human! If you try to fight him, you'll die!" I yelled.

"Listen to your friend, oaf. You aren't even a speck to me, so do us all a favor and get out," Hiei said. "I hate having to do pest control."

"Nothing doing! I'm not leaving you here to fight this psycho by yourself, Tenchi!" Kuwabara yelled.

"I'd find that nobility impressive if it weren't coming from a fool too stupid to realize how outmatched he is," Hiei replied, eyes still on me.

"I hate to say it, but I kind of agree with you on that one," I sighed.