Sekamu: Okay, so I'm going to try and post about once a week...
Myst: That won't happen...
Sekamu: Try being the key word here. Double update today, because the last chapter didn't actually have much of my own stuff in it, and is kinda boring. There's kendo in this chapter!
Myst: ;hyperactive; Kendo?! Where?! I'll take anyone on!!! swings shinai wildly
Sekamu: ;ducks shinai; Anyway, it's getting more interesting, now. I think.
Because of the dreams that have, for one reason or another, decided to plague my sleep, I have resolved to begin a dream journal.
Kurama looked up after about ten minutes of writing about the two dreams he'd had. Glancing at the clock, he rolled off of his bed, shut the small notebook and placed it on his bedside table. He grabbed his worn school bag and walked silently down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Good morning, mother."
Shiori jumped and spun around. "Ah! Shuichi, I didn't hear you come down. Did you sleep well?" she asked, turning back around to the stove.
Kurama shrugged. "Yes, I did. Would you like help with breakfast?" Shiori declined his offer with a smile. After the two had eaten, Kurama went on to school.
Today was a Wednesday, meaning the kendo club would be practicing that morning, Kurama mused to himself. His footsteps subconsciously sped up. Upon reaching the school, Kurama went straight to the gym, where the kendo club usually practiced. Hearing shouts and cries from behind the closed doors, a small smile spread across his face. He entered the gym without a sound and walked straight for the bleachers.
The kendo club consisted of about fifteen people in all. Some were there because they truly enjoyed sword arts, but most were there to brag and show off. One or two participated at their parents' insistence. Very few had any potential… Kurama observed from his seat in the bleachers. It wasn't surprising that Meiou had developed a reputation as a school for the academically inclined. The kendo team hadn't won in years.
One practitioner caught his eye. He was a senior, had a reputation as a bully, and was attacking one of the poles again and again. Every time he would attack, the shinai that he used would break. The rubber tip would fly off, or one of the bamboo sticks that comprised the shinai would crack, or the hilt would break in two.
He puts too much power into the strokes. He needs to work on the basics, instead of just using brute force. Just a little finesse, and…
"Oi! Pretty boy! What're you looking at?"
Apparently Kurama's focus on the senior had attracted his attention. Without waiting for an answer, the other student approached. "Why're you watching me?"
"I was merely noticing that you seem to have skipped your basic training. You use a good deal of power, it's true, but your stance is completely off-balance," Kurama pointed out, not really knowing how he knew this.
Kurama's answer had caused all other action in the gym to come to a stop. "Whoa…" one of the kids whispered. "I don't think anyone's ever been brave enough to tell Yoshikuni-san that he was doing something wrong."
"Brave," her companion whispered, "or just stupid."
"No, that's Minamino Shuichi. He's the top student…!" the girl said, completely missing the point.
The senior, Yoshikuni, laughed. "Minamino, huh? I've heard of you! You probably learned whatever it is you know about swords from a book! Well, guess what? That's nothing compared to the actual experience!" Kurama mentally laughed. If only he knew… "I bet that you can't make one of these things break like I can!"
Kurama narrowed his eyes slightly, sensing a challenge. "How much?"
The wind was taken out of his foolish opponent's sails. "Huh?"
"I accept the bet. How much are you willing to lose?"
"I bet you five thousand yen!" Yoshikuni quickly recovered.
Kurama smiled again. "Alright." He stood, and walked over to the post that Yoshikuni was using. Picking up an unused shinai from the rack, he held it in a moment of sudden realization. What the hell was he doing?! He'd never had any training, and contrary to what Yoshikuni had guessed, he'd never read any books on the subject, either. Yes, he could use a sword, and he supposed he could handle one well (after all, he had fought Hiei with a sword, and come away without a scratch), but his forte was his whip!
Kurama closed his eyes in order to calm himself, and had another epiphany. He couldn't get out of this. If he did, he'd seem like a coward, and he'd lose five thousand yen. And thanks to Yusuke's recent escapades, he didn't even have five thousand yen…
"What's wrong, Minamino-san?" The honorific sounded more like an insult. "Scared?"
"No," Kurama replied, still calm, "I'm only considering what attack to use."
And it was true. After the initial panic had subsided, Kurama had felt slightly detached. He felt himself sink into a stance for a thrust, and viciously attacked the poor post. The shinai splintered on contact. He studied the result analytically. More of the left was destroyed than the right. It hadn't been a dead on hit. Which meant he was out of practice…
Kurama blinked. He had never been in practice! Where were these thoughts coming from?
"Wow…" came a slightly shocked voice from behind him. "That was… amazing! You're like Saitou Hajime or something!"
"No," Kurama corrected him, still slightly out of it, and unconsciously stiffening at the historical figure's name. "Saitou uses the Gatotsu. That was…" He blinked, and came completely back to himself. "…something else." Discarding the shattered shinai, he forced himself to relax and began to walk back to the bleachers. "Oh!" he said, suddenly remembering. Kurama turned around and began to walk back to the senior. Holding out his hand, he said in all seriousness. "Five thousand yen, please."
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The story had spread across the entire school by first period. In the middle of second period, Kurama was forced to pay the consequences.
"Would Minamino Shuichi come to the main office. I repeat, would Minamino Shuichi come to the office immediately."
Kurama looked expectantly at his Chemistry teacher for permission, taking his eyes off of the water he was heating for two seconds. Two seconds later, it began to boil. "Ack!" He quickly took the water away from the heat, bowed to his teacher, and left, shutting the door softly behind him.
"Yes? You called me, Fugiwara-sensei?" Kurama said to the principal when he reached the office.
"Thank you for coming, Minamino-san. Actually, Myojin-sensei wanted to talk to you for a few minutes. He's promised me it won't take very long, so you should be back in your classes before third period." As the principal said this, the man standing beside him nodded. He was a rather tall man around twenty-eight, with straight, rather messy black hair and red-brown eyes. He began to walk out of the room, motioning to Kurama to follow him.
The pair walked down the hallway without saying a word, until Myojin reached another door. As the older man opened it, Kurama saw that it was to a small office, which he guessed was Myojin's.
"Come in, Minamino-san, come in." Kurama followed the man into the office, wondering what it was the Myojin wanted to talk to him about. "Now, there seems to be a problem. I'm the teacher sponsor for the kendo club, and teach Literature on the side, and one of my students, Yoshikuni Takumi, has reported that you were at this morning's kendo practice."
"I was," Kurama agreed, warily. "I've always been under the impression that anyone could watch."
"Yes, that's true, but you did more than 'watch', ne?"
Kurama bowed his head, remembering the bet, and the five thousand yen in his pocket.
"There's no reason to be ashamed, Minamino-san. I just want your side of the story. Yoshikuni has said that you, to use his words, 'hustled' him, which somehow I doubt." The teacher sounded somewhat amused at the accusations. "All I want to know is what happened."
"I was watching your students practice, and I noticed Yoshikuni-san. Frankly sir," Kurama said, looking Myojin in the eye, "he's not very good, and he was breaking a lot of the shinai just by sheer force, not actual prowess."
Myojin laughed at Kurama's frankness. "Yes, I know, but the kendo club is open for anyone who wants to join. The team you have to try out for. Even if all the members of the club end up on the team anyway. We don't have enough people interested to make them separate."
Kurama nodded, remembering the various announcements he had heard about the difference at the beginning of the year. "He noticed I was watching, so I told him that I was just observing that he seemed to have skipped the basic training."
Myojin laughed again. "You're right, but I didn't think you were into kendo. You didn't join the club, and most who are interested in sword arts do."
Kurama shrugged. "It's a recent interest. A friend of mine practices, and I began going to his training sessions. I was merely applying what I'd learned by watching him to Yoshikuni," he lied.
"Your friend must be very good," Myojin said, watching Kurama carefully.
Kurama nodded, sticking to his story. "He's almost as good as the assistant master."
Myojin stopped questioning his story, though suspicion stayed in the back of his eyes. "What did Yoshikuni say after that? I know he's not one to take an insult like that lying down."
"He didn't, sir. When he recognized who I was, he bet that I would never be able to break a shinai like he had been doing." Kurama shrugged again and placed his hand in the pocket that held the money. "I accepted the challenge, and proved him wrong."
"Good job. That braggart needed to be taken down a peg or two. However…" Myojin stood up and came around the desk to lean against it. "The fact remains that you destroyed school property, with the intention to do so. I'm afraid it is my duty to punish you." Kurama gulped. "I haven't told the principal yet. The way I see it, there are two fitting punishments. One: I tell the principal, who calls your mom, you serve somewhere around a month of detention, and you have to pay for the shinai you broke. That's the harsh one, the one I don't want to do. The easier one is that you join the kendo club."
Kurama blinked. "What?"
"You're a good swordsman, and you say you've had no training. If you got training, you'd be one of the best fighters I've ever seen! Besides, it's either that, or detention…"
"I'll join," Kurama hastily agreed, not wanting to get detention for a month.
That was just over a week ago… Kurama reflected, as he swung the shinai down for the hundredth time. By now, Myojin-sensei was seriously regretting ever letting him join. There'd been mishaps, mistakes, and a few times where he just plain missed. To put it frankly, he was not all that good at fighting with swords under a style.
Unless he concentrated, his grip slipped into the one for the whip, and he would swing and expect to hear a sharp crack. Only afterwards would he realize he was holding a much shorter sword. The only good thing about the practices was the fact that he was the best dodger in the club. He couldn't hit his opponent, but his opponent was never able to hit him, either.
"Alright, everyone, that's enough for today. Go on home," he heard Myojin order. Everyone passed by him on the way out. Kurama stayed behind in order to help pick up. It was the least he could do, after letting down Myojin-sensei every practice. "Thanks, Minamino-san."
Kurama bowed, and was about to leave, before Myojin asked him to wait for a minute while he put the shinai away. "Wasn't sure you were going to," Myojin told him, as he jogged back over to talk to him. Motioning with his head, he continued, "Walk with me."
Kurama followed the man out the door. "I'm sorry I'm putting you through all of this," the teacher apologized after a couple of seconds of silence. Kurama looked up at the man in surprise. "I just know that you can be really good at this. And I want you to prove it, not only to yourself, but to me as well. There's a match coming up, two weeks, in fact, and I want you to participate. All of the other students will be, good and bad. You're welcome to back out, but I would like you to at least try. Don't worry about making a fool of yourself," his instructor continued, with a slight bitter tone, "The whole school does that every match."
"I'll think about it," Kurama promised. The pep talk helped a little, and he had been half-expecting one, anyway. He waved good-bye to the man as he turned off into his road. Reaching his house, he called, "I'm home!" as he went inside, more out of habit than anything else. His mom was working late, probably to spend more time with Hatanaka-san, so the house was his for while.
Going upstairs, he dropped his bag at the door, and went over to his bed. Picking up the small notebook, Kurama flipped through it until he found the entry he was looking for. The date was that of just over a week ago, the day after he'd joined the kendo club.
I've had another dream, following the same theme as the others. This makes the third one in just a little less than a week. This one started off slightly differently, but showed remarkable similarity to one incident that occurred today. In it, I found myself standing in front of a stout wooden pole bound with rope. I was holding a katana. Before I could begin to attack, a scruffy man, much taller than I was, approached me, and bet a ryo that I couldn't damage the pole at all. I didn't say anything, merely waved him off. I remember narrowing my eyes, focusing on the pole, and unsheathing the sword with lightning speed—so fast, it almost seemed like the god-like speed of legends. The pole was cut in half.
Earlier today, a fellow student bet five thousand yen that I wouldn't be able to break a shinai by attacking a post with it. I shattered it in a straight thrust against the post.
I believe that these dreams are being influenced by the events in every day life, though I couldn't say why they all seem to take place in the Japan of the 1850's.
Kurama shut the small journal, thinking. The dreams did have a common thread, something besides the era. If he could figure that thread out, perhaps the dreams would stop. But meanwhile, he decided as he grabbed the shinai that he had bought with his winnings, practice makes perfect. Retreating to the yard, Kurama swung the weapon again and again.
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Kurama was silent as he approached the man worshipping at a small shrine. The man didn't even know he was there until he spoke in a soft voice that somehow managed to convey a great danger. "Are you Nakamura Jirou, of the army of the Shogunate?" The man, startled, turned around, and Kurama saw that he matched the description given to him by Katsura. "I have no personal quarrel with you, but for the advancement of the revolution, you must die."
The man gasped, realizing why Kurama had been sent—as an assassin to end his life. Quickly, he drew his sword and ran in front of a tree, likely trying to escape, or call for help. A futile effort. Kurama ran with him, faster, so that when the man stopped, he was in front of him. Unsheathing his own sword, Kurama swung down and clove the man's head in two as he screamed…!
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Sekamu: okay, so there is another dream scene in this chapter. But it's not incredibly long...! Sorry if it's a little confusing, I'm trying to do dream scenes like they're real because it's more fun that way. Again, I stole the assassination from Samurai X: Trust. Never found out the guy's name, I don't think, so we just used a random Japanese name generator. I love that thing... also were we got the name "Yoshikuni". As far as I know, there is no actual Yoshikuni at Meiou high. But I'm rambling again. See you next week!