Chapter 8 - The Fat Man's Fight

“I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did, emotionally AND physically.”

Ryouko hated it when people talked about him like he wasn’t there. The few in with Lord Hokage now were those types. It always made Ryouko wonder if he needed to be here or not. If he wasn’t included in the discussion, and there was no information of any importance being exchanged, why bother; Ryouko figured. To heck with this, he was outta here. Lord Hokage could tell him later- it was obvious that Ryouko wasn’t wanted. He got up off his cushion in the corner of the room, put on his sandals, and walked out.

In his travels around the village, wandering each day, Ryouko had discovered love. Well, love of tea and the snacks that went with it. Cold Soba (no damn tofu) and hot tea were such a great combination. It seemed to be a peaceful meal. That is to say, when eating it, Ryouko could think clearly. At home, in a time of war, there was no time for tea and snacks. Having time to enjoy them now gave Ryouko a much-needed nutritional boost and less-needed energy. It had become a daily ritual to sit in one of the many teahouses dotting the Hidden Leaf. It was so peaceful…and boring.

A few battles and I’m acting like an elder. It’s not right. But, what else have I do to with my time? It’s not as if I can make friends here that aren’t adults. None of these people are swordsmen…I’ve got nothing in common with any of them. But it’s strange- I’ve never wanted friends before. I always had Kishootsu-sensei and Kimihiro for company. In this village, I’m alone; even without my parents. I mean, there’s Lord Hokage, but the demands on his time are too great to bother him with petty things.

“All finished, swordsman?”

Ryouko had been so lost in thought that he had forgotten he had finished eating and drinking. The kind waitress had brought him back to reality. She had been leery of him, as was everyone, but she had gotten to see that Ryouko was polite and kind-hearted. She couldn’t help but notice his stoic young face, so she called him ‘swordsman’, using it like a term of endearment.

“I am, thank you. It was delicious, as always,” Ryouko told her, bowing as always.

“Well, you’re welcome. Now then, I’ve got to go get some water from the well…”

“I would be happy to get it for you. I’ve no demands on my time…”

-

Ryouko balanced the two buckets of water on the long stick between his shoulders. He had done this lots of times when helping Kishootsu-sensei make swords. It also gave most of your body a good workout. Many was the time Ryouko would carry water back and forth, only to deposit it back in the river or well it came from.

Ryouko set the water down, then found his cushion in the teahouse. It was funny to think Ryouko had found this teahouse simply by wanting to emulate the adults he knew. Most of them drank. Obviously, sake wasn’t an option for little Ryouko. So tea it was.

“Hm?” Ryouko perked up. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt somebody powerful was around. Scanning the booths, Ryouko looked for someone who could be the source of that strength. That’s when Ryouko spied it.

A sword!

Ryouko craned his neck to get a look at who could own it. In that particular booth there were four men. One was masked, with one eye covered. Another was wearing the strangest get-up Ryouko had ever seen (green spandex, was it?), and the third Ryouko knew as Lord Hokage’s son. The fourth man Ryouko couldn’t see much of- he was covered from head-to-toe in black. Amongst all the green vests, this man stood out. Ryouko instinctively felt that the sword belonged to him.

I’ve got to get him to notice my sword. But wait, what if he wants to fight?! Then again, this is the first swordsman I’ve seen around. If he’s just passing through, this could be my only chance to talk with him…

Ryouko didn’t bother to question himself as to why he was so desperate to talk.

--

“Yeah, this new chick, Kurenai. Man, I get back from traveling to cool down, and I find that hot little number in my village. Talk about a stroke ‘o luck!” the man speaking, Asuma, took a long drag off a cigarette. A few embers fell on his hand and burned him, causing him to curse. The other three laughed good-naturedly.

“Could that be an omen of what will happen if you try to hit on her?”

“Oh, shut it, Kakashi. You hide behind that damn mask- at least I’m out there trying!” Asuma shot back, glaring mockingly.

“Got me there. Well, then again, the females DO like the mask…”

That sent the entire group into a fit of laughter.

“Then why’re you still single?!”

“Just fussy, I guess.”

“Or stupid! I’ve seen the ramen maker’s daughter make eyes at you! And you just ignore it!”

“Isn’t she…a little young for me?”

“Younger is better!”

“If you’re a criminal, yeah!”

--

Ryouko went up and ordered more tea. While up there, he asked the waitress about the four men.

“Let’s see…the masked one’s Kakashi Hatake. Quite the village heartthrob! Next to him, in the green, is Maito Gai. Goofy fellow, but friendly enough. Then there’s Asuma- the one with the cigarette. Told him to put that damn thing out in here, too…the last guy…hm! I don’t know him. He must be new…”

Ryouko thanked the waitress and sat down. This time, he made sure to walk by with his sword-side facing the group. Still no reaction from the sword owner.

“Excuse me, but there are no swords allowed here without authorization.”

Ryouko kept his sigh contained. “Hold on just a second, I have special permission…Here you are.”

The man asking took the paper. “I see…that this is a forgery, at any rate.” He tore the paper to pieces. “Hand over your sword.”

“Absolutely not. If you’d like further authorization, Lord Hokage can direct-”

The older man made a grab for Ryouko’s sword. Ryouko jerked it out of his range, giving him a warning glare. When the glare was ignored, and the man moved for him again, he was met with a steel teapot upside the head.

“Touching a samurai’s sword is tantamount to asking for a death duel.” Ryouko had used this line before, and it usually stopped people from bothering him. When it didn’t, Ryouko’s sword had prevailed in combat.

“Then you wanna take this outside? Huh? You little peasant?!”

Ryouko had heard that tone before. The people that talked like that were usually too cowardly to back up their words. So Ryouko stood up and walked toward the door. There the three jonin and their friend were waiting for him.

“Best to leave fighting to the adults, kid. You’re in the springtime of youth!”

Ryouko stared ahead flatly. “Then speak to the challenger.”

“Hold it, kid. You can’t just talk to a jonin that way, Y’know? It’s bad manners.” It was the masked one, Kakashi, this time. Kids are so impulsive, and ready to throw their lived away without knowing what they’re getting into.

“If I let adults do my fighting, sir, then I would never get stronger, and my village would have been enslaved years sooner. If my manners are bad, I ask forgiveness- but all the same, I have no plans to back down.” Ryouko stalked past the jonin, getting more irritated every second. Why do these people think they can just bully me? The adults in my village always encouraged me to stand up for myself. These adults don’t…Well, no matter, I know which upbringing I’ll follow.

Asuma and the black-cloaked member of the group chuckled.

“I’ve heard the kid can handle himself. I’d like to see a good fight. We can always stop ‘em if it gets too rough. Besides, kids need to learn to handle themselves.” Asuma was more relaxed than his peers, so he was all for it.

--

Outside, Ryouko stared at his opponent, not once breaking his gaze. The man was taller and more blubbery than anyone else Ryouko had seen around the village. The heavyset man’s weapon of choice was a sword cane- a veritable joke in Ryouko’s opinion. Such a fat man would overtax such a thin cane, and the sword inside was hardly worth mentioning. One power strike would shatter it.

Ryouko didn’t draw his sword, even as the enemy came running. Once within range, Ryouko drew quickly and shifted his weight, adding a measure of centrifugal force to the strike. But his eye’s widened when his sword hit a thick layer of blubber and rebounded. That meant a quick shuffle-step backwards to avoid the counter-strike from the flimsy sword-cane.

“Even if you DO hit me, you can’t penetrate my outer shell!” crowed the hefty challenger.

“Outer shell? Is THAT what that is? I would have called it ‘fat’ myself…” Ryouko murmured in response. Something wasn’t right, though- this didn’t feel right. Like it wasn’t a real fight. Like his senses were dulled or obscured…

Even if he’s fat, my draw should have cut his clothes, at least. But the strike rebounded, as though he were made of rubber…

The fat man swung again. Ryouko brought his sword up in a block, but felt his sleeve tear anyway.
I dodged that! How did he…

“Too slow, little man! What a joke you are!”

Poison, maybe? In my tea? No, my body is functioning normally…so why…let’s test this…

Ryouko put his sword in it’s sheath. From inside his gi he extracted a fan. He opened it with a flick of his wrist, sending a small breeze blowing onto his enemy. Something wasn’t right…

His sleeves moved too soon. I’m farther away. My attack hit him, but if he wasn’t cut, then the tip of my sword never reached him. Which means that he was either too fast- unlikely, given his size- or that I was the one who was too fast…My mind’s kinda foggy…better test this…

Ryouko looked down at the dirt. He watched his opponent’s feet move. It was strange, what Ryouko saw- before the fat man stepped, there was a footprint. That meant that he was a good step faster than Ryouko anticipated. That was fine, but how did Ryouko deal with it? And how was this trick being done?

And then it came to him.

Ryouko drew his sword again, setting it down away from his body. He held his case in tight to his body, looking ready to block. In his right hand was his fan. It was a strange posture, but it would help Ryouko. A sword cane was chiefly used for stabbing, as a cut would break it. The curved handle on the cane also indicated that swinging it wasn’t the best way to use the weapon. A straight thrust was. Ryouko held his fan out from his body, over his heart.

RIIIPPPPP!

Ryouko moved quickly, shifting a half-step to his right. His left side was now prominent. He snapped his fan shut. That didn’t stop the sword can’t progress entirely, but the metal frame of the fan slowed it enough. Ryouko jammed is case forward. SHUNK!

The sword cane was in Ryouko’s sheath. He titled it downward to prevent the enemy from drawing again. Ryouko shuffled toward his foe, pushing the sword cane further into his case. Using the top of his head, he butted his bulbous enemy under the chin, then smashed his hand using his elbow. That left Ryouko to take up the sword cane and aim it at his defeated enemy’s neck.

“…well played. You win the match.”

Ryouko shoved the flimsy sword into the ground, then took up his own. “ ‘Match’? Threatening a life, then calling this a ‘match’? You’ve no respect for your opponents if THIS is how you act in a challenge.”

“…And you, child- your attitude is typical of your sensei. The same lack of emotion. And your use of ‘Niten Kanshaku Ryu’, even while strapped by my genjutsu…”

(Please note that this name was chosen because of it’s literal translation (lit. ‘Two Heavens Temper Style), not it’s similarity to the ‘Hiten Mitsuryugi Ryu’ found in Rurouni Kenshin. I was going to change the name due to it’s similarity, but I liked the name too much.)

“…then again, I wouldn’t know the name if I hadn’t known your sensei.”

You are not authorized to comment here. Your must be registered and logged in to comment