Friday, July 28, 2006

Holding "Child's Play" at an angle to her side so she wouldn't stick herself accidently, Kikan sped towards her opponent with blurring feet. Her face held no emotion, like a blank canvas. Sariyuki leered as she effortlessly dove out of the straightforward attack, throwing her thin knife at Kikan's back while Kikan's forward thrust hadn't diminished yet so she couldn't turn. However, she didn't need to.

Twisting her wrist around, Kikan effectively brought "Child's Play" around to defend her back. The knife bounced off like it was just a toy, a sad little imitation of the giant of steel it tried to attack. Sariyuki inwardly cursed. What the hell? My knives are made of the strongest, sharpest Spanish steel anyone could buy or find. And yet, it can't get past that ordinary blade?

She had been staring at the back of Kikan's head while she mentally blasted the girl, and so was slightly startled when Kikan's hair whipped around, showing the side of her face. She was still as emotionless as before, and yet....

"It will take more than a needle to break the Lady's skin, m'dear. Use something thicker, give us a challenge."

"Tcch!" US? What the hell? Fuming now, Sariyuki grabbed three very large daggers, and was the one who started the attack this time. Throwing one as a decoy to occupy the freakish long-handled katana, she jumped and, with a leg known for breaking things, rolled down and struck Kikan on her shoulder. It wasn't a life-and-death match, so she wasn't willing to go for the head. Sariyuki landed upright on her feet, and without stopping, kicked "Child's Play" away. Leaping away, she stood, ready to take whatever Kikan was undoubtably going to give her.

Instead, Kikan stood there, stock still, like that kick to her shoulder had hit her 'pause' button. Is she actually that weak to stop and cry after one hit? Sariyuki was getting bored, twirling a knife while she waited for a reaction, any reaction from her seemingly frozen opponent.

Kikan gave her a reaction, all right.

Her head snapped up again, and her mouth formed the words, "You lose." And again, blank canvas face. Yet, her real last words: "This is CHILD'S PLAY for me."

And while Sariyuki tried to fathom what that meant, she was hit on the head with the hilt of a sword. Her face hit the ground hard, and the handle bit into the back of her head, pushing her in more. B-But, that girl hasn't moved a finger.... Her head was just pushed further into the mat.

Standing against the wall, Kentei's eyes widened, and then widened some more. This was not a regular battle anymore, oh no. And the wall he was leaning on suddenly disappeared, making him tip backwards before he regained his balance. He turned his head around, and what he saw almost made him tip over again. They were not in the dojo anymore, and he wasn't very sure that they were still in Japan. Everything was black and blue and purple, like space with the stars and planets erased. And where Kikan and Sariyuki stood (or lay), the color was lighter to indicate some kind of floor. But something other than "Child's Play" was standing over Sariyuki.

"So Kikan, are you happy to see me?" A woman of her late twenties stood over her opponent, holding "Child's Play" in one hand, like Kikan liked to handle it. She stood at a good six foot something, towering over everyone present. She was of Asian descent, her eyes gave it away. The Lady gave off a sort of feeling, part peace, part menance; basically, she was just such an otherwordly, ethreal presence. Her garments were simple: a common dress of blue, the sleeves stopping at her elbows with a string, her hair flowing freely around her, and yet the necklace that dangled from her neck, that sword with the crest of the Cross, and those scars on her arms, they couldn't be....could they? Kikan's hands flickered to her own neck, where the twin of the Lady's necklace hung, gleaming even where there wasn't light. With her arms up, her sleeves fell back to reveal the identical scars, carbon copies down to that nick near her wrist.

The boy groaned. Now this is messing with my head, just way too crazy and fast for me.

Leaving the girl rumpled on the ground, the Lady walked over to Kikan, holding "Child's Play" ever so gently, like it was made of ice and was break if she let it drop. "Don't tell me you can't figure out my voice by now, Kikan." She smiled, almost motherly, almost friendly.

Kentei would remember that there, where Rangi wasn't around to see, that he would never witness something as beautiful as a flowerbud opening to bloom, something as beautiful to him as Kikan smiling openly. "Well, so you are Child's Play." She couldn't help but laugh a bit into her words; this was just too crazy to happen.

The Lady laughed along with her. "Yes, I'm the freak in the sword that's been talking to you since you could hear me. Although, I imagined the situation where you would break me free from the weapon to be a little more," she waved her arms around to help visualize, "dangerous. I mean, it's just a girl. One you could've beat easily if you hadn't tried to experiment with me."

"Excuse me for trying. You were the one who was complaining lately that I hadn't figured out how to call you, and that you were getting fat lately from nonexercise." She was still smiling, and he was still staring.

"You're right." Her arms went around her, holding her close to her chest. "Let's not make this the last visit, hun, OK?" To be suddenly held when she had never been held before, to know someone cared almost stunned her. But then, Kikan returned the hug, squeezed once, squeezed twice.

Almost like a girl who had parents who cared about her.

"OK."

And just like that, it was over. The walls came back all at once, and Kentei found that he almost hit one as it came back into focus. The fighting students that had been so neatly arranged into rows earlier had broken formation, running towards their defeated champion, unsure of what had happened. But none of them noticed Kikan, with "Child's Play" back in her hand, who was still standing there with her head uplifted to look into a kindly face that had disappeared into warm air. And then, her face came back down to stare at the floor, and she put her blade back into its casing and walked out of the dojo, with Kentei on her heels.

Catching up to her, he exclaimed, "What was THAT? I mean, that lady, and she just poofed out of nowhere and knocked out Sariyuki like that, I mean, she was freaky by herself and her scars and necklace matched yours, and-sheez! No one's beaten her before, and this is only your first day here. Imagine what would happen when everyone finds out and starts challenging you and-" She cut him off with a sad look, eyes looking so forlorn for someone who had, minutes earlier, just found someone she was apparently looking for.

"I'd like it if you kept that to yourself. Please." He shut up, as she looked ahead once again, eyes focused on some point on the horizon. Knowing that he would probably be bitch-slapped into next week for trying, he slowly took her arm and, curling his fingers gently around it, pulled her sleeve down. Amazingly, she didn't try to protest or hurt him in any way. The barely there scars stared back at him, just as silently as they had the first time he had, by fortune, seen them. They were all over her arms, by the looks of them. Not ugly, not malformed, but like some artist of flesh had wanted a beautiful canvas to match his beautiful art, and had chosen her skin, of all people, to display it.

His voice was low. "How did you get these anyway?"

Kikan's eyes were on him again, but not threateningly, just passing by. "Why would you care?"

"Just because." He grinned, almost like a dog. She nearly laughed, but held it in, as years of experience had taught her that emotion sometimes was not wanted.

"Growing up with a weapon as big as that, I was bound to get scars in my first fights." Simple, clean, and yet so secondhandly confusing and complex when you replayed that sentence in your head.

Rangi chose this moment to come out of the main building and see Kentei pretty much just holding her arm up, but at the angle he was standing, it looked like he might be kissing her hand. "....That boy's moving it along too fast for his own good."

-SYC
Comments (2)