Sunday, April 16, 2006

The first chapter of Elegy's fanfiction. Enjoy and comment.


Down the country path in the cold winter sunlight, Mother Nature prepared to rest as her daughter autumn retired and winter relieved her. The air was thin and chilly, stinging the throat as it was inhaled and creating vaporous clouds when expelled from the lungs. The sky was a brilliant, pale shade of azure, as it stood frozen over the land, supporting the late morning sun as it climbed to its apex, but not choosing to support any clouds on this day. The ephemerally luminescent full moon hung in failing resistance at the edge of the southern horizon, not quite at peace with the notion of setting just yet. In the backdrop of nearly white sky that shrouded the edge of the visible heavens, the nocturnal orb was nearly invisible.
On the ground below, winter took a similarly strong hold. The numerous deciduous trees that littered Japan’s landscape, all but withered, gave way once again to their cousins, evergreens standing proudly against the cold. In the newly depleted warmth especially, it seemed, they almost glowed with vitality. The smaller plants that lived beneath their stubborn neighbors, namely shrubs and nettles and the like, were all long since expired or dead to the world, lined the path like hedges, sparkling in the frost left over from the dive in temperature that night brought on. The steady sun in the cloudless sky, though bright enough to blind, was not warm enough to completely burn away this crystalline reminder of what was to come in just another few hours. Though there wasn’t even a sign of snow on the frozen earth, excluding the icy puddles in the myriad potholes and other gaps that paved the road, the dark, but miniscule clouds slowly hiking along the northern line of mountains that held up the sky promised some precipitation, though it would most likely be rain, if it even reached this area at all. With the slight east wind, however, they would most likely blow out to sea, or make their way down the coast. A beautiful morning, Seta mused happily as he walked along his way.
The natural beauty of the scene, however, was interrupted by a loud grumbling. Had there been anyone else on the path, they might have run, or panicked, in the belief that there was a bear approaching. Hell, they might have even hit the ground and played dead, if they were particularly intelligent concerning bears. Seta, however, simply sweat-dropped and clutched his empty stomach. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, at sunup, and now it was nearly noon. I knew I should have stopped at that teahouse…
Pausing his steps for the first time that day, the young swordsman glanced up at the sun, pulling back his large shader hat so he would not have to dislocate his neck to do so. As he verified the orb’s position in the sky, his heavy traveling cloak shifted with his arm, and the metallic glint of a sword could be seen at his waist through the folds of cloth. It disappeared the next second when his arm rested at his side once again and his clothing returned to its original shape, which covered the weapon completely. Apparently satisfied that the time was right, Seta tugged at the strings of his pack and pulled out a smaller package, which contained omusubi that he had packed this morning.
Retying his effects into a travel-friendly parcel, excluding his lunch, the swordsman continued on his way, creating a new paradox as he politely wolfed down his food as he went.
Unfortunately, several shadowy figures followed his path on either side of the road, hidden in the trees. Unfortunate for them.

“Aow wight eweryone,” Seta called as he popped the last bit of rice into his mouth and quickly swallowed it. “I am sure that you all have your reasons for remaining hidden, but you would be a great deal less suspicious if you were to follow your own pace, and not follow so closely to mine. Personally, I do not consider myself particularly dangerous, but perhaps you see me as such, because I can think of few other reasons besides fear that you would avoid contact with me.” He stopped for a moment to see if they would give up the charade (that was not working anyway) and come out in the open. Nothing moved except the trees in a slight wind that was picking up. A south wind, Seta frowned slightly. Now there may be rain to contend with, if the temperature rises anymore.
Seta sighed as he returned his attention to his current situation. They were beginning to irritate the swordsman greatly. “If you choose to remain hidden, it is none of my affair.” Two dozen. There are two dozen of them surrounding me on every side. What an insult. I suppose I never did look all that impressive. Ah, well… He took up once again his steady marching pace. The shadows also resumed their progress, remaining concealed in the woods. They hid themselves rather well, Seta noticed, but not well enough. Not nearly well enough.
A few yards down the road, Seta stopped again, as did his pursuers.
“Now, I believe I have reason to wonder why yet again, you will not leave me behind. I am flattered to think that perhaps you have become worried about my well fare, but I do not believe that is the case. Come out, or I will come to you.” He punctuated his words by resting his eyes on each place in turn where a man was masked away by the forest. The swordsman noted in satisfaction as an uncomfortable shift passed through the group.
Again nothing moved. After a moment, however, a tall man in black robes stepped reluctantly out of his hiding spot. He was ridiculously dressed. His robe, though seemingly thick, only reached down to about his knees, and he did not even wear tabi, only geta sandals that added to his height. In fact they could have been the cause of his height. He was easily a foot taller than Seta. Also, the top portion of his robe, which covered a hideously hairy chest, was tied with a red rope, and hung loose enough so that much of his upper body was exposed to the cold. The sleeves, though long, were the only things covering his hands, as he did not wear gloves at all. His face was closely set and rather defined, with scraggly whiskers around his jowl and a messy mop of dark hair over his head. At his belt was an empty sheath.
He sauntered up to the still motionless Seta, managing to look intimidating, even though his whole gang had just been detected easily by one traveler. Even the way he walked was arrogant. As he neared the young swordsman, the apparent fool stopped.
“We was just bein’ careful, ya know, times’re danger’s these days.” He spoke with an irritatingly lazy drawl, even though his deep voice wasn’t suited to it. He sounded like a buffoon, though Seta kept his customary smile in place.
“I quite understand,” answered Seta politely. “I assumed you had your reasons, but when someone is hiding nearby, one has little choice but to be suspicious. Now that that matter is cleared up, however, I must be on my way. I planned to come to the next village by sundown. And speaking of villages” Seta leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially “perhaps in the next one, you would consider trading that empty sheath for some warmer clothes. It is winter, you know.” He again took up a relaxed, but brisk pace, continuing his disrupted travels and leaving the very confused group behind.
The only one who had abandoned the farce, the one who seemed to be the leader, hurried angrily after Seta, having to break into a slight jog to catch up and keep up. Though Seta was shorter, his pace was still quite fast. As the man came up to Seta’s side, he reached out and pulled the swordsman to a stop by the shoulder.
“Look, kid, you don’ seem all tha’ bright, but ya bett’r learn a bit’a respect for that Forest’s Shadows. We’re tha best in tha region. Now, we all migh’ be willin’ to forget it, if ya hand over tha sword a’yours.” He roughly pulled aside Seta’s cloak to reveal a katana, with a silver hilt and beautiful matching engraving along the sheath. Leaning on the shoulder of the young traveler like they were old chums, the bandit continued. “See, I broke my las’ sword, killin’ off a few trouble makin’ govermen’ officials passing through here.” He stopped for a moment as if to see what affect this had on his would-be victim. Seta continued to smile.
“My apologies. I can sympathize with the trouble of swords that break too easily. My last three weapons, which is every sword I have carried, met similar ends. How difficult it is to find a good sword smith these days… Regardless, I have become rather fond of this one, so have no intention of giving it to you. Maybe some other person would be willing to give theirs up, but I believe I have better reason to carry it than you. Good day.” Seta walked off, either ignoring or oblivious to the blank stare that the man was giving him.
The blank stare however, was soon replaced by an angry grimace. A sort of strange growling escaped the man’s throat, and he motioned to his men in the woods. As all two-dozen of his followers leapt out of the woods at the strange, grinning swordsman, the leader smiled in satisfaction as he imagined the look on the fool’s face when they wrenched his sword from him and used it to end his life.
He wasn’t, however, prepared for that same fool to disappear before his eyes.
All his men, to a one, stopped immediately and looked around frantically. They were all dressed in thick robes that covered them from head to foot, and made them look fierce and somewhat scary, though the effect was greater when they weren’t out in the open, as they were now. Seeing them looking frantically around for their foe was both hilarious and depressing.
When the seemingly incompetent group of bandits finally located their prey, the traveler was behind them. A second before they all charged at him once again, he sheathed his sword, which they had neither seem him draw nor noticed that it was drawn.
At that moment, the ends of their hair, beards, and clothes all severed and fell to the ground. Astonished, all Seta received for a moment was a great deal of blank stares. They were all armed, and had all drawn their weapons, but hadn’t even seen the traveler coming, much less had the chance to defend against him. Though this harmed none of them, it apparently scared them, because each and every man turned tail and took off down the road in the direction Seta was traveling. Their leader trailed behind them, almost tripping over his own over-large shoes.

Seta watched them go in satisfaction. It was an emotion that he had only recently gained understanding of. Ever since he had begun wandering seven years ago, they had been quietly filtering back into his conscious mind, subtly reminding him that he was human after all. Oddly though, they seemed distant, like Seta’s mind did not want to accept any feeling, as if it simply wanted to go on seeing things black and white, as he had before.
Prior to when he had begun his journey, which he intended to continue for three more years, to come to a total of a whole decade, Seta had lived as a smiling zombie, keeping a grin over his countenance, but feeling none of the happiness that would normally be associated to that expression. He had been empty, with everything that could cloud his judgment locked away in some internal vault, not only misunderstanding happiness, but sadness, disappointment, contentment, every other feeling that he could have had. That had been his state of being for years, even before he had met Shishio-sama. It hadn’t been so bad. The swordsman had mastered Shukuchi, or speed that the eyes cannot see when under Shishio-sama’s guidance. For that, among the many things he gained with Shishio-sama, he was happy to have met the severely burned madman.
And yes, Seta had to admit after thinking it over that Shishio-sama had, indeed, been a madman. A brilliant madman, but a madman nonetheless. Without emotions, Seta had once thought of Shishio-sama’s many insane plans and actions practically, and practically they were perfect. But when one looked at the realistically, and not soullessly, each and everything that Shishio-sama had done since joining the Imperialists was immoral, perverted, or just simply not pretty. It was little wonder to Seta now, seven years later, that Himura-san and his friends had felt the need to intervene. Their actions, coming into a clear trap, fighting a losing battle, almost giving their lives, made much more sense when looked at expressively than when looked at judiciously. It had taken seven years to figure that out.
That day, or perhaps it was just ever since Himura-san had walked into Seta’s life, everything had been rearranged without the young swordsman knowing. It was not until his own personal fight with Himura-san; there in Shishio-sama’s lair the fact was obvious that nothing had been left alone since the paths had crossed. Since that day, Seta was aware of his own problems and his own flaws. He could see that he was doing something wrong, but was having a hard time pinpointing just what it was. So, he had tried to figure it out Himura-san’s way.
That was what had led him to this cold path in the already diminishing winter sunlight. Trying to figure out what everyone else seemed to know so well. Because for the several years of his life that Shishio-sama had taught him about the world, Seta had only learned how to fight. Very proficiently, in fact. So well, that there was nothing more that his former sensei’s way of seeing the world could teach him. When he looked at the world as only a place to be and people to conquer or be conquered by, he couldn’t…he couldn’t, find anything worth living for. That didn’t fit right. But, whatever it was, there was more to it than winning a battle.
If such things could be proven in battle, then it is Shishio’s way that is right.
That was what Himura-san had said.
In his life, Seta had few actual role models. No man wanted to admit he had any, to be honest, but on the bottom line, the only people who had themselves taught the young man anything had been teaching him to fight and destroy. That was how Shishio-sama had always been. If he had still been alive, that is how he would be currently living; to fight and conquer. He was now gone from this world, but, no doubt, the ex-hitokiri was having fun taking over Hell right now.
So how surprised Seta was when one day, in walks this strange little man, with red hair and a cross scar on the left side of his face, who acts so differently than anything the young swordsman had ever known, and yet was as physically powerful as the strongest influence in Seta’ s life. Again, though few members of the blue gender would actually confess to looking up to anyone, Seta included, Shishio had showed him so very much that was right, that it was strange to see him so lacking in comparison to this wiry man with a reverse blade sword.
It took Seta up until he lost to Himura-san to realize just how much he was being influenced. When he finally became conscious of the difference, however, things became oddly clear. In the words of Himura-san, each man and woman had to find their own truths about the world, and could not live accepting another’s convictions without question. So even though Shishio-sama had taught him more than anyone else had ever even intended to, even though from his former master Seta had mastered Shukuchi, there was no more that Shishio-sama could teach him. Even if his life had not ended that day, all Shishio-sama had ever showed Seta was how to fight, and now, further instruction was unnecessary. There were other things to learn.
Like what exactly it was that he had to learn. Emotions? Maybe, but it just wasn’t as perfect a fit as Seta would have liked. He might have come close to the answer a few years back, but something had gone wrong in the lesson. Very wrong indeed.
If Himura-san could figure it out, Seta should be able to. There couldn’t be anything too complicated about it. But seriously…seven years? How long would it take?

As the sun faded and died behind the horizon, so did Seta’s hope for finding a place to sleep under a roof before sundown. The clouds, which had seemed so very unimpressive this morning, had grown into a sheet of cirrus that was painted dark purple tinged with flaming red, clinging to the last of the daylight. The trees, which unfortunately kept the path rather dark, making night develop much faster on the ground than it did in the sky, were oddly half-hued, so dark they were almost black on one side and a bright shade of orange on the other.
A quiet stream swept along beside the path, so cold the temperature of it was audible. Or maybe Seta was just imagining how cold it would be. He shivered as he continued resolutely onward, refusing to accept any less than another mile even after darkness set in. He wasn’t even thirty yet! Cold wasn’t going to stop him. Fatigue would, but not cold, and fatigue wasn’t going to get him for at least another couple of hours. If nothing else, stubbornness had developed in his consciousness in his past years of wandering. That’s when he heard it.
Seta stopped and listened for a moment. He put his hands up to his ears, and in this state was able to hear much louder the sound of raised voices, off to the left side of the path. It did not sound friendly.
Seta took off at full speed, leaving his train of thought just off the trail. This was no time to be considering such things when there was the sound of an agitated woman’s voice about.

Seta stopped just outside a large clearing. It most likely was not naturally made, considering its sheer size and it’s lack of preventatives for trees or plants to grow. There was a large fire pit in the center though, so it was most likely a common place for locals to camp on their travels. Not many people unfamiliar with the landscape would be wandering around off the path on the off chance that there was a campsite nearby. But the reason he had stopped was an exceptionally strange one.
There were several people present. In fact, most were the very same bandits that had attempted to rob him this morning. He recognized clearly their leader, still idiotically clad and seeming rather cold by the way he was trying to keep his arms covered a bit more than he had that afternoon. There was also a woman among them. She was short, very short, only a little taller than five feet, possibly under five. She was robust too, not skinny as a twig, just slim, though her figure was enough to make the common man drool from what Seta could see. Her waist, where her belt was tied, was rather slender in comparison with the upstairs, if we all get the meaning, and the rest of her wasn’t so bad either. Through the darkness, Seta could see that she was wearing mostly dark clothes. Her shirt, western style, was most likely black, with no sleeves, but wrist sheaths that were also black covered well up to her elbows. Still, it looked cold. Her pants, Chinese style, were dark…green, perhaps? Covering proportionately long legs and well-shaped hips, they ended around shoes that looked as Chinese as her pants. The swordsman could see little of her face, since the atmosphere was even more lacking of light here than back on the road, but what he could make out of her hair was black and tied into a braid or ponytail, around which a red cloth had been tied tightly, which made it look like a red rope attached to the back of her head. This, however, was not the strange part.
Easily and methodically, this woman was fighting off and going after every one of the bandits. She was beating them too. And the fighting style she used was an insane mixture of kempo defense and gymnastic offense, though that was just a generalization. Seta had never seen anyone combine two totally different styles of movement into an effective mixture of speed, precision, and balance.
Before his very eyes, this woman ducked a kick from one man, grabbed his ankle, used him as a shield for two others before pushing him back onto them, and used their faces as kick-offs to leap over the shoulders of the next opponent and deliver a solid blow to the back of his neck, after which he collapsed. She shoved an elbow into the abdomen of an assailant behind her, causing him to flop to the ground, unconscious. Seta watched, impressed, as one by one, and sometimes two by two, each and every opponent was dealt with quickly and without hesitation. It was a little scary. But just a little.
As he watched the last one fall, Seta automatically evaluated her performance. It was more of a reflex than an actual desire to find something wrong. Though her timing, balance, and clear experience in fighting was amazing, most of this was making up for strength that was clearly lacking. She was stronger than most women, but just by the way she fought, Seta could tell that she had chosen a fighting style that played to her strengths, which, ironically, was not strength, but movement and speed. She didn’t overpower her enemy; she just started by overwhelming them with their own lack of reaction time. Even the strongest fighter can’t do a thing if they can’t keep up with whom they’re fighting. Then, when they’re unstable about the fight, she easily unbalances them, knocks them unconscious, has them at her mercy, whatever she wants as long as they can’t keep a hold on what she’s doing. It was a brilliant scheme, and well compensated for any shortcomings given to her by her gender. True, it was more complicated than Seta’s “speed-kill” style, but that made it harder to predict, which added yet another layer to it’s defense. But where there is a strength, there is a weakness, and this weakness was plain as day to Seta, who also was a specialist in the good old art of being faster than the other guy.
Seta had rushed to the site with the intention of rescuing her, but, watching her stand among the fallen (though he didn’t think that any of the men were dead) it was obvious that his help was not required here. Too bad. It was so much fun to play the hero, especially to women. Seta wondered if the opposite sex had always been so appealing to him, or if his wanderings had given him a sense of interest in them. He doubted the first one; after all, he had spent how many months with Shishio-sama, who always seemed to have Yumi at his side? Maybe he just wasn’t interested in…that kind of woman.
Sighing to himself, he took a step backwards—and tripped over a log, crashing backwards into a dormant raspberry bush. Desperately trying to free himself from the brambles, he looked up to see a short, but oddly intimidating figure looming over him, with blood lust filling a pair of emeralds that served as eyes for perhaps the fairest woman Seta had ever seen. Even looking at him, as she was, in a way very different from what Seta would have preferred, he couldn’t stop staring, trying to see better her face in the dying winter sunlight. From what he could tell, she was clearly native, though something about her facial features still hinted at a foreign background. He was right in thinking her hair black, since though it was pulled into a fairly secure braid, several weak strands banded together to form thin ebony bangs on either side of her face. Close up, her pants were dark grayish green, in the diminishing daylight. A chain hung from her neck, supporting some article of jewelry that was hidden down her shirt, given the length of the chain from which it was suspended.
He realized that he had stopped all motion, and was just sitting in the berry bush, staring like a retarded idiot at her. He blushed slightly when he remembered his sight had dropped down about eight inches from her eyes. He glanced away, but when he looked back, she didn’t seem all that amused by it. He noticed that she held a shiny silver dagger in one hand. He tried not to stare at this either; as far as weapons went, it was as beautiful as its master. Made out of the clearest, most flawless example of steel Seta had ever seen a weapon made out of, it sloped from razor-sharp at the edges to a slight rounded-in incline towards the middle, where there was a flat sliver on which was engraved the kanji “Justice by Fire.” Even this was beautifully crafted in calligraphy. It was more like a work of art than a weapon.
“You have one chance to preserve your life.” Scary voice. Though it was not raised or forceful, the tone was simply dark, and deathly calm. Seta did not lose his smile, though a shiver went down his spine at such a lovely appearance being coupled with such a creepy-ass voice. “Choose your words wisely. Who are you, and what business do you have here?” Her eyes gave away no change in emotion, just irritated calm. Her dagger was at his throat before he really noticed, though he could have tracked its movement if he didn’t have his ass in the brambles and his attention on the workmanship of his opponent’s weapon. He’d have to work on that.
“Seta,” he answered, sitting up. She allowed him to stand, apparently not considering him too much of a threat. When standing, Seta was easily a head taller than her, though he had always sort of been on the short side. She was about tall as he thought, though. Maybe, four eleven or five-ish? She sheathed her dagger smoothly back into her wrist sheath. It was long enough to take up the whole space from her wrist to her elbow. He continued. “Seta Sojiro. I was just passing through. When I heard your voice and the voices of these bandits, I assumed there was trouble and came to help. It seems that you do not need it, however.” He gestured to the scene back in the clearing. She looked as if she was considering the likelihood of his story being true, then turned from him and headed back to where her victims lay.

Saiya walked back to were the thieves lay unconscious. They were bothersome, she thought as she poked absently at the leader’s head with her shoe. Did every group of idiots in these woods consider her helpless? What kind of fool who is helpless goes traveling alone? It made her angry. No one would miss them if these bandits were to disappear. She kicked the man’s head somewhat savagely. Without hesitation, she drew her dagger.
The next second, there was one arm around her waist and left arm, while another held her right arm, which held her weapon. Since he was behind her, she couldn’t see her attacker’s face, but she could guess who it was. That damn traveler! He was stronger than she was, and much so. As they were, and since he was wearing that moronic hat, smacking him in the face with the back of her head would not be very productive, especially with the height difference. Both her arms were useless, and since he held her waist, and his arm wasn’t giving at all no matter how much she struggled, escape from wriggling wasn’t looking too bright an option. She could try kicking him in the balls, but her legs couldn’t bend that far at this close a range. She groaned slightly as he squeezed her wrist hard enough to make her drop her dagger, after which he let up enough to allow circulation to continue. It wasn’t as if her knife was doing her much good anyway.
There was only one option left.

Seta had no clue what he was doing there. He had stopped her form killing a defenseless man, who had attacked her thinking her to be a defenseless woman, and was now holding her as tightly as he could to prevent her escape, which would surely lead to his death. Not that he really minded having an arm around her, but this wasn’t what he would have had in mind.
What in hell had possessed him to stop her? Why, he had no clue. Perhaps it was the mercilessness of her killing someone who was unconscious. Then again, it saved them pain if she killed them now rather than waiting for them to wake up. If she stabbed them now, while they were in a state of unconsciousness, it was more doing them a favor. If she wanted them dead, it wouldn’t matter whether they were able to defend themselves or not, since they were obviously no match for her. Thinking like this, there was no real reason to intervene. But thinking expressively…
When Seta thought about it now, however, the act of killing someone who was defenseless was just despicable. He didn’t want to think of her as despicable.
His thoughts were cut short, however, when her left foot hooked his ankle and jerked it out from under him. She leaned back exaggeratedly, causing Seta to lose his balance and pummel backwards into the ground. Since letting go of her now would still mean his death, however, he continued to hold her down, with the intention of doing so until she chilled out.
She wasn’t going to just play dead, however. Even constrained as she was, since Seta had worked her other arm into the same hold that was confining her waist and left arm, the woman struggled ridiculously, trying to bash his brains out with the back of her head and kicking at his legs. She almost broke his ankle, once, right before he realized that he should be avoiding her legs altogether at this point. All along, it wouldn’t leave Seta’s head, despite the multitude of better things he had to think about, how indecent this situation was. If anyone were to walk along, it would look very bad.
Trying to remedy this, and make it at least a little more difficult for her to heel drop his legs, which would certainly snap the bone in a second, Seta sat up.
“Look,” he tried to sound as kind and unthreatening as possible, which wasn’t easy, considering that she was getting annoying. “Just calm down! I’ll let go when I don’t consider you a threat to my life.” She stopped moving. That was suspiciously quick. Now that she wasn’t trashing around, Seta could feel through her back that her heart was beating like a caged bird.
Now, Seta could see every reason not to release her and very few reasons to let her go. Considering her previous ferocity, her sudden acquiescence was to be suspect. Plus, there was the fact that though she wasn’t moving, she was still extremely tense. Not to mention he was holding in his arms one of the sexiest women he had ever seen. But, he would only make the situation worse if he didn’t do as he said he would. Hiding his disappointment as best as he could, he loosened his arms from around her waist. She detached herself from him, and rubbed her wrist where he may have squeezed it a little too hard. He sort of regretted hurting her now.
He forgot his regret the next moment, though, when she tackled him and pinned him to the ground. Again Seta was reminded just how much smaller than him she was, but from her other wrist sheath she had pulled a second dagger, also artful steel. This one was engraved with the kanji “Judgment by Water.” He gulped slightly, feeling the tip prick his throat, though it did not yet break the skin.
“Perhaps I should not have let go yet…”
“Shut up! What are you really doing here? And what in hell was that about?” She sounded rather annoyed now. So much for irritated calm. Seta searched for words as his mind went blank. This was an extremely bad time for his mind to go blank, however, was the only thought that he could scrape up.
“This is a bad time for my mind to go blank…”
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing…”
This wasn’t good for Seta, because whatever irritated her about this statement caused her to draw back, clearly planning on slicing his throat. Seta saw her movements clearly, being a master of Shukuchi. He had his own sword with him, but as they were with his right arm held down, pushing her off to draw it would only further convince her that he was an enemy. One thing left to do.
“Please don’t do that!” Yes, when all else fails, beg for your life. If that fails, you’re screwed.
Oddly enough, she stopped with about a half inch between the point of the dagger and the hollow of Seta’s throat. Her eyes were so wide it was sort of scary.

Saiya had no clue what happened. Those words that he had just said seemed so familiar. Like she had heard them before.
Flashes of somewhere else zipped before her eyes. A mansion—danger—a woman—death—a smile. All the sudden her head exploded in an earsplitting sound. Like standing right next to a gigantic church bell as it’s rung. Her vision went fuzzy and Saiya closed her eyes against the pain, clenching her teeth as she dropped her dagger and clutched her ears.
Please don’t do that! Please… it’s all right. You’re okay now.
Saiya reeled forward as her consciousness left her. The last thing she felt before the world went dark was her head and torso hitting the chest of the traveler she had only seconds before tried to kill.

Oww. My head…
Saiya kept her eyes closed even though she was very much awake. Opening them would only cause her pain, anyway. She wasn’t having flashbacks anymore, so all she saw was the back of her eyelids. The church bell in her head had stopped ringing, and now there was only thudding silence. After the initial shock of being awake again, the pain in her head left over from her little attack dulled down to just an ache.
When she was able to notice other things. Saiya noted that she was warm. This was rather strange, since it was almost winter, and she didn’t think she had had her cloak on when…when…
She sat up quickly when she remembered just what she ad been doing. The traveler! What happened? Did he take off? Where was he…owwww.
Saiya clutched her head and slowly lowered herself back down as her sinuses flared and her head felt like an amateur was giving her acupuncture. Her head rested on something soft. As her vision cleared she was able to think more clearly, she tried to think back.
Okay, there were the bandits, which she beat. Did she kill them? Maybe. Then the traveler, what did he say his name was…Sojiro? Then…but what was going on now? Saiya chanced opening her eyes for a moment. Looking to the right, there was a small fire crackling merrily, and someone had gathered her effects and set them next to the fire. Feeling cold, she realized that she had thrown off someone’s cloak when she had sat up. Pulling it back over herself, she discovered that it was hers. Who put that there?
And what was she lying on? She reached back to feel what it was and looked behind her. She went red when she realized that she had her hand in the lap of that traveler she had been trying to kill. She jerked her hand away and sat up more slowly this time.
“M—my apologies. I—I—”
Saiya looked back at him. He was leaned up against a tree trunk, sleeping.
She sighed in relief. Sort of wanting to lay back down and go back to sleep herself, Saiya contented herself with looking her apparent protector over. Her first impression was that he was short. She remembered her unintentional actions a minute ago, before she knew what she was lying on. Height-wise, anyway…
He was muscular, too. He had been sitting cross-legged, leaning partly on a katana, which was sheathed in one of the most beautiful pieces of workmanship Saiya could remember seeing, with his rolled up cloak between his legs that she had been using as a pillow. But even if she hadn’t been able to feel the muscles (*blush*) the strength in his legs was obvious through his clothing. Add that to his ability to fight…
Saiya looked at his face. He was handsome. Sort of pretty-boyish, but it looked good on him. Now that he no longer wore that hat, she could see that his hair was cut sort of long, around his ears, and was black, though hers seemed darker for some reason. He was wearing hakama, dark blue ones, with ordinary souzo sandals, and very thick white tabi. His cloak was black, and the gi he wore was light blue, with a white western-style shirt underneath it. Though she was sure he was muscular, his clothing made him look kind of skinny. She noticed he was shivering slightly.
She looked down at his cloak, which was still rolled up in his lap. He had taken it off so she could have a pillow? As much as she wanted to lie back down and get some more rest, Saiya resisted and spread his cloak over him. He sacrificed himself and froze just so that the woman who tried wholeheartedly to kill him wouldn’t be uncomfortable. What kind of man would do that? She was amazed that he hadn’t killed her off the moment she fell unconscious. She would have. Remembering that she had had both of her daggers drawn, she felt from the weight on her forearms that they had been returned to their rightful place. Both were even on the correct arm.
He stirred. She watched silently as his eyes blinked open and he sat up, realizing that she was not in his lap anymore. He looked around for a moment, still half-asleep, before noticing her right in front of him. He smiled.
“Did you sleep well? Are you feeling any better?” This guy was seriously weird. Only minutes ago (actually, it could have been hours. God only knows how long Saiya fell asleep for) she had been a half-inch away from killing him. Now he was wondering how she was doing?
“I-I’m fine.” Saiya was confused. The pain almost completely gone now, she could sit up with out difficulty.
“I’m sorry I set you on my lap without asking. You were thrashing around in your sleep when I just left you on the ground, and I was afraid you’d fall into the fire.” He smiled again, though concern was still etched across his facial features.
“I’d better get going.” Saiya started to stand, but reeled and almost fell over. The traveler, Sojiro, caught her before she fell, lowering her to the ground and leaving her in his lap. Saiya glared at him slightly, but could not refuse the fact that it was more comfortable than the ground. Regardless, she inched away and sat in front of him while he sighed almost silently and sat back against the tree.
“If you want, you could stay with me tonight. You don’t seem totally recovered. I know I may not have made the best first impression, but I assure you, I’m the last person that would do anything unseemly.” Saiya didn’t doubt it. How many men would do nothing to an unconscious woman except care for her and keep her comfortable? Then again…
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why take care of me? I almost killed you. And why stop me from killing those thieves? It’s not as if anyone would miss them. Tomorrow they may very well wake up and kill off a whole traveling party. Perhaps they were idiots, but most people would have a hard time if they met up with them unexpectedly. Why save someone like that? Why save someone like me?” She glared at him for making her say something so uncharacteristic. But she was curious, and even if curiosity did kill the cat, Saiya had always thought that if it wasn’t worth dying for, then you could live without knowing anyway. It made sense, oddly. She didn’t think she could continue her normal state of mind until she could understand his motives. There were several moments of silence in which neither of them said anything. The smile on the traveler’s face had slightly faded, replaced by a kind of half-hearted grin.
“I have no clue.” He sighed, pulling his cloak back over his lap and leaning his face on his hands. He didn’t look her in the eye. He just stared into the fire. “No clue whatsoever.”
“You aren’t working for anyone, are you?” Saiya doubted it. Whoever this man was, he did not seem the type to take orders from those with less-than-honorable ends in mind. He seemed the type to take orders, though. But one never knows. He could easily be just a very good actor.

“No, I’m not working for anyone. I’m just a traveler.” Seta smiled and looked back at his companion. She probably had reason to be suspicious. He hadn’t really done anything to betray her trust, except save someone’s life, but this was a cruel world. “Better safe than sorry” was an infinitely smarter way to live than “live till you die.” It’s not as if she couldn’t afford to be more trusting, though.
She seemed a bit more relaxed now. Only a bit, though. She would rub her temples and sinuses every so often, but besides that, she just sat staring into the fire for a while.
“I’ll stay here for tonight, but we go our separate ways in the morning.”
Seta’s face brightened. He kept from breaking into a gigantic smile, though. She would probably wonder what in hell he was smiling at and get all suspicious because he was acting too happy. Actually, Seta couldn’t figure out why he was so happy that she was going to stay. Perhaps he was just glad to have company.
“You’re name is Sojiro, right?”
“Yes. Seta Sojiro. You may call me Seta, if you choose.”
“My name is Saiya. Just Saiya. I don’t have a family name.”
“Even so, it’s a beautiful name. It suits you.”
“Thanks.”
“If you want, you are free to sleep on my lap again. If you don’t mind me saying, you seemed so comfortable there before.”
“Thank you very much for the offer, but I’ll be all right. Really. I don’t think I’ll be moving around much in my sleep anymore.”
“Maybe we could compromise. You were keeping me warm before…” Seta blanched. There were too many ways that could be taken beside the way he meant. He glanced over at Saiya, half expecting her to be glaring at him in death-rage. Instead, she smiled and chuckled slightly. Seta just stared. She was positively enchanting when she smiled. Though it didn’t seem to bother her all that much, he tried to cover his screw-up. “Wh-what I meant was that I didn’t have my cloak, so…um…well…” He couldn’t seem to find words to compensate for his mistake. Instead, Seta just sighed and leaned against the tree he had been using as a backrest. Were all women this confusing?
“Regardless.” Saiya came to his side and sat down beside him against the tree. She pulled their cloaks over both of them and leaned her head on his shoulder. “You are comfortable to sleep on.”
After that, Seta tried his best not to go back to sleep. It wasn’t so difficult to be tired, but knowing she would be gone the next day, he figured it was worth losing sleep now and making it up later. After all, he usually didn’t even get to be this close to a woman, much less than actually get to sleep beside one.
But after an hour of resisting sleep, he began to give in to how heavy his eyelids seemed. He was mentally chewing himself out for giving in so easily, but even so, he began to fade into unconsciousness. Before he was totally out, however, he heard Saiya speak. He couldn’t hear all of what she said, but he did manage to understand one phrase.
“You were keeping me warm, too.”

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