We meet the host, get equipped for microphones, and are shown to our post. The set up is so that our weapons/armory table is behind us and a smaller table in front of it. The smaller table sports a banner in front declaring as to be the Anglo-French War. Technically, many wars bear that name, but what the heck? We can specify during explanations. We are surrounded by training zones for weapons testing and, of course, the main computer that will collect our data and decide who is the deadliest warrior.

I look across from us and about ten feet away is the other team's post. Their banner says Genpei War.

I know nothing about it, this should be interesting.

Dr. Belair looks at their post as well. "I wonder…"

"What Dr. Belair?"

He rubs his chin and looks thoughtful. "I thought we were going to be given information about our opponents in advance. When the information never came, I started wondering who they'd pair us against. If who I think is going to appear behind that table, we are going to have an actual challenge in front of us."

He rubs his hands together. "I do love a good challenge, and it would be nice to see him again. He does good work."

I have no idea who he's talking about, but I've never seen Dr. Belair express feelings that he's met his match. Normally his overconfidence comes off as pure arrogance.

The host walks over. "I just got through speaking with the other team, they'll be walking up shortly. When they do, we'll be filming both of you. This is the moment everyone first sees each other, so feel free to taunt however you see fit. It sets a good, competitive tone. After that, we'll film your introductions individually and then film you explaining the wars and the warriors within them. During that part, they'll be asking the questions we sent you. Some will be used for the show. Of course, you already know you'll be answering questions during demonstrations as well. Do you have any questions before we start?"

I smile. "No sir, thank you for your time!"

He smiles. "My pleasure. I look forward to working with you." He looks at Dr. Belair. "And you Doctor? Any questions?"

Dr. Belair nods. "May I ask who's about to appear? I want to make sure my opening look is antagonizing enough."

The host shakes his head. "You'll see soon enough. Don't worry, you'll have a chance to speak with them if you like. We'll have down time."

Dr. Belair raises an eyebrow. "I see."

I look at Dr. Belair. What is going on?

The host walks away. A stage hand shouts, "And we're rolling in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!"

I look at my notes in front of me and pretending I'm busy studying. Dr. Belair is doing the same. I then hear footsteps. I look up, ready to give them my best it's on face, but instead I feel my breath catch.

Walking towards the Genpei war post side by side are two distinguished and intimidating looking Japanese men. The older one looks to be about Dr. Belair's age, his hair is long and seems to flow behind him slowly, like he's in a shampoo commercial. He's wearing a black T-shirt and what look like black martial art pants. He stands tall and walks proud, a solemn look on his face but his eyes look gentle.

He's a sight, but the man next to him makes my heart skip a beat. He looks like my age. He's wearing the same pants, but his black shirt is sleeveless, and with good reason. He's sporting a pair of the nicest arms I've ever seen, beautifully toned and perfectly smooth. His hair falls around his head softly, seeming to spike out at the ends. His eyes are blue and piercing, like to deep blue diamonds that could cut through anything. He has a scar above and below his left eye, giving him a permanent touch of intimidation to match his stern expression. Their weapons table is set, but he has a sword strapped to his back, strengthening his air of robustness.

I don't know how long I've been staring at this man, but they're almost at their table. Crap, the camera caught all of that, I need to save face.

I straighten up and put my heads on my hips, gazing at them as if they are nothing more than mud on my shoes. I don't know what Dr. Belair is doing, but it doesn't matter. These men are firm, and as they reach their table, they simultaneously cross their arms.

Edge: Genpei war.

"CUT!"

I drop my arms. The older Japanese gentleman does the same and smiles, but the other one keeps his arms crossed. I realize he's looking right at me. I can't do anything but stare back. His look remains stern, his eyes seem to be staring straight into the depths of my soul. My heart flutters.

We probably would have stayed like that, but the host's voice breaks the spell.

"Wonderful! We'll get a great opening from that. You guys can take some time to talk before we film your introductory poses."

I shake my head and look down. Wow. I don't know what that was, but I want more.

Only now do I realize Dr. Belair is no longer beside me. He and the older Japanese gentleman have closed the space between the posts. Both bow at the same time towards each other, and they are clearly happy to see each other. They know each other?

"Yoshitsune-chan! It's great to see you again, it has been far too long!" Dr. Belair booms

The man smiles warmly "And you Christophe-chan, it has been indeed. This is a happy coincidence."

Dr. Belair turns towards me. "This is Dr. Minamoto Yoshitsune, world renowned samurai expert and Japanese war historian. Obviously, you know his specialty in history, but his weapon specialty is the sword." He looks back at the doctor. "And of course, it doesn't hurt that he's descended from royalty."

Dr. Minamoto Yoshitsune laughs and waves it off. "That is the finest introduction I could ask for Christophe, you flatter me. However, being squared off against you I have certainly met my match. I daresay your qualifications are even better than mine." He looks at the young man behind the Genpei war post and introduces Dr. Belair. The young man bows, then returns into his stern stance.

"Oh, but where are my manners?" Dr. Belair asks, then motions to me. I walk over and stand next to Dr. Belair.

"This is _, my colleague and protégé. Her doctorate is almost complete, and one day she shall usurp me with her superior intellect."

I blush. "Dr. Belair exaggerates. It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Minamoto Yoshitsune."

The doctor smiles and bows towards me. "Please, call me Yoshitsune. The pleasure is all mine. Let me introduce you to my colleague and protégé."

As if on cue, the young man walks up and stands besides Yoshitsune.

"This is Kazemasa Hattori Hanzo, master of katana and direct descendent of the finest samurai warrior the Genpei war had. He knows more about the Genpei war than I do, and is a fine historian."

He looks directly at me. "You may call me Hanzo." His voice is deep and sultry.

I feel like I'm melting. Brain and brawn.

I smile at him. "It's nice to meet you Hanzo." I bow deeply, my face parallel with the floor. I got this! Won't he love that I understand Japanese customs?

I stand back up, still smiling. The look on his face is one of mild surprise. Yoshitsune chuckles, and Dr. Belair has a hand over his eyes.

I glance at them all, surprised. "What?"

Dr. Belair sighs. "We'll discuss this later ma bichette."

Oh no, what did I do? He only calls me "my little doe" when he's worried about me, or extremely happy to see me…and he certainly doesn't look happy.

Hanzo's stern look has returned. "Yes…well, you'll have to excuse me, I have to prepare."

He walks back towards their post.

Well, that was a major fail.

Dr. Belair and I return to our post as well. Team Genpei is filming their intros first, and Dr. Belair takes this time to tell me about bows. As it turns out, there's many different ways to bow in Japanese culture, and the bow I gave essentially doesn't exist.

"Too deep and too much like anime character bows." Dr. Belair had said. How embarrassing.

"I didn't know! Shoot, no wonder they reacted the way they did."

Dr. Belair seems unconcerned. "Don't worry about it; knowledge of customs would be expected back in Kyoto obviously, but since they're visiting America I doubt they'll hold it against you. I learned all these customs long ago, and you have time to learn to if you want."

For some reason, none of that makes me feel better.

I plop down into a chair. How should I pose for this dumb introduction? This is my introduction into the world beyond academics, I can't do just anything.

I look back towards Team Genpei. It appears their introductions are finished, because the host is standing by the weapons table and speaking with Yoshitsune. Hanzo is standing close by, his sword still on his back. He seems to be listening attentively. I wonder what they are saying.

A stage hand appears in front of our post. "While they film with the host, we'd like to ask you both questions and film the answers; your answers will be edited throughout the episode to explain things further. As you already know, not everything you say will be used."

Dr. Belair and I nod. Showtime.

After hours of questions and explanations, it's looking like we're finally ready for the demonstration portion of the show. I actually really enjoyed telling about French history during that time period. It's not my strength, but it went really well, and everyone seemed interested.

The minute we're back at our post, I can't help but look and see what our opponents are doing. Sadly, they aren't at their post. Probably at one of the indoor test sites, there's so many of them!

The host comes over. "I heard your interview went well, you're very eloquent apparently."

I smile. "I love my work, and I enjoy a crowd."

He nods. "We'll get some great snippets from that; we don't get many women at all on this show, I think you may be able to help expand our demographic."

"That would be great! I'm only sorry I don't get to partake in any of the weapons testing." I say. Looking around, I'm wishing I was proficient in at least one.

"Me too, but of course you get to watch, and taunt if you desire."

I can't help but laugh at that. Do need to get some good ones in; they can't stay high on the intimidation scale the whole time.

"I came over here because we need to do your introduction, and then get some footage of you and Hanzo."

That grabs my attention. "Why of him and me?"

"When we found out Dr. Belair and Dr. Minamoto are friends, we thought it might be fun to get some footage of the both of them together, maybe put a twist on this episode, 'the friend is the foe'. It got even better when we found out they are mentors to you and Hanzo. Yet another twist: battle of the protégé. What do you think?"

I have no idea what to think.

"We may use it, we may not, but the more we have to work with, the more creative we can be. They were thinking you and Hanzo could just kind of improvise, see what comes naturally."

Hanzo and I? A segment together?

I realize I need to say something to the host, who's waiting for a reply. "I can do that, no problem."

The host claps his hands. "Great, follow me."

I do. He takes me to a space on the other side of the studio, cameras lined up in a semi-circle.

"Why so many cameras?" I ask.

"That's so they can film you at every different angle quickly."

I have always wondered which my best side is.

"Okay, stand in the middle of the cameras."

I oblige. I walk in and face the cameras. Much like the interview, I realize quickly that I like the attention the camera gives me. I look around. The host has wandered off, and I see no one. Time to have some fun.

I strike a few poses. I am a starlet, I am a scholar, I am a sinner, I am a saint, I am Joan of Arc.

I giggle, this is fun. I twist a piece of my long, straight hair around my finger. It gives me an idea. I start to whip my hair back and forth, then tassel my hands through it. Give me a head of hair, long beautiful hair...I'm not a vain person, but I do love my hair. I whip it around a few more time, and start to laugh.

I wonder what Hanzo did for his intro. I wonder what they are expecting him and me to do together. Hmmm, I wonder what I should do, or say. I haven't improvised anything in a long time, I wonder if I'll be any good.

"You'll be fine." says that unmistakable sultry voice.

I turn my head, and Hanzo is standing beside me. Oh crap, I was talking out loud?

His face is flushed. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, and he casually wipes them away. His color is returning to normal. He must have been doing a demo.

I hope I'm not blushing. "Hi Hanzo, I believe they're filming my intro before our segment."

His face seems to flush again. "I think you just did."

Now I know I'm blushing. They were filming that? Hanzo was watching? I was just joking!

I scratch the back of my head. Don't worry, they won't possibly use anything that cheesy.

I look at Hanzo, who looks back to normal. "Well then, on we go! This should be something, don't you think?" I ask.

He cracks his knuckles. "Not really, it's just one more segment they feel they need. I wish they'd stick with history and demonstrations only."

I'm taken aback by his bluntness. I look at his hands, which he's still messing with to get all his knuckles popped. They look strong, certainly hard working hands. I wonder how they'd feel all over my body.

Dang it! Where did that come from?

He stops messing with his hands and sees I'm starting at them. "What?"

"You shouldn't do that, it's unhealthy. You'll grow up to have arthritis."

He looks at his hands. He entwines them, holds them away from his body, and pushes outwards.

POP POP POP POP POP!

He releases his hands and shakes them. "Good to go now."

What a jerk. "Fine, pop away, you'll have old man hands before you're 30."

He rolls his eyes. "You practice jujutsu and the katana everyday then tell me how to treat my hands."

I'm about to quip back when I realize I have no idea what a katana is. I look at the sword on his back.

I cross my arms and motion my head towards the sword. "You're supposed to take care of your hands. How will you wield that precious sword of yours otherwise?"

He looks over his shoulder, where the handle pokes out. "That's my katana. I already said that."

THAT'S a katana? Shoot, I've been foiled again

I search for something redeeming to say when he continues. "Let me guess," he pulls out the katana swiftly and holds it in front of him. "To you, this is a prop, right? A Kill Bill sword? Ha! You probably have no respect for this weapon beyond its cinematic value."

I know I've been zinged, but I can't stop staring at this katana. The long, silvery blade shines in the studio light. It commands power just by being out. I've always liked swords, and this one is unlike any one I've seen during my studies French history. This is certainly not a toy, how dangerous it must be in the wrong hands, but even worse in the highly trained ones. Highly trained ones are holding it right now.

Hanzo looks over briefly. He then resumes facing his katana, seemingly a bit taken aback from the admiration I know I'm giving off.

"I can see you've never been so close to one before. Different in person, isn't it?" he asks.

"It's so…thin."

I cringe. Could I have possibly said anything worse?

His head whips towards me, the katana holding steady.

This man could kill me in one swipe, why did I say that? I need to fix this.

"So why the katana?" is all I manage to come up with.

His eyes look at the katana, and then back at me. What happens next is over in the blink of an eye.

He grabs me, his right arm tight around my shoulders, and the katana is pressed lengthwise against my abdomen. It's so quick I don't have time to even react.

He brings his mouth up to my ear. "No one has ever earned the right to take a life," he whispers, his voice falls deeper than before, like a coin sinking through a wishing well. "but, if there is no other way, then you better be close enough to smell their blood."

I nod. I've often thought the same myself.

My eyes look down at the blade. I should be horrified right now, so how come I like this?

I can feel the cool steel through my top. It feels good under these hot stage lights. I slowly run a fingertip down the length of the katana, and then cup my palm under the tip when I get to the edge. "Je n'ai pas peur...Je suis né pourfaire cela." The French flows softly off my tongue, desire and intrigue fill my body.

I run a fingertip back up the length of the katana. Power. Respect. Is this how every warrior who holds a weapon feels?

I turn my head towards Hanzo, who's chin is basically resting on my left shoulder. Our lips are now just inches apart. He stares, making no effort to move. His eyes are like an ocean, and they pull me down hard. I feel a slow smile come across my lips. My eyes dance, daring him to show me a wicked promise.

He blinks, and the spell is broken. He lets go of me and rubs his eyes, the katana falls away from my abdomen. His hand moves away from his eyes, and he looks at the cameras with his stern expression.

"Enough." he mumbles, and walks out of the circle of cameras.

It hits me. Of course, they were filming! Well, that was one hell of an improvisation.

No one has yelled "cut", but I walk out in the opposite direction of Hanzo. I don't understand what's going on, but I'm getting to the bottom of this.

"LOOK OUT!"

I freeze. I don't know whom that came from or whom it was intended for, but I sotp dead in my tracks. I hear an awful squeaking sound. I look up. One of the rows of stage lights is shaking. It wobbles back and forth, unsteady and clearly not able to stay up. The squeak upgrades into a screech, and a few sparks shoot out as the row begins to fall.

I can't do anything but stare as their brightness gets closer and closer.

And then, I see nothing.