Thirteenth Day of the First Month, Year One Thousand Ten of the Reign of the Ichiya Dynasty

Himari

As Himari walked into the Dojo where the final day of the two day trials were held, her face kept a careful, neutral expression. Rather than carrying Shugojin, she carried a simple Katana. In the first day of trials, she had already received a fair amount of heckling from the older contestants that she had only made it as far as she had because of her father and her sword. And while she could not control the first fact, at least she could prove that she didn’t need Shugojin to defeat blowhard Samurai.

The first day’s competitions had been rigorous, if somewhat boring, tests of perceptiveness, reaction time, and ethics. They had culminated in a five minute speech about matters of duty and fidelity. Twenty Samurai including Himari had started the trials. As she sat on the dojo floor, only eight remained. The remaining trial was a tournament. With the eight men and women present already being shown to be the fastest and most dedicated, there was only one question left; whose blade would be up to the task?

Himari was attentive, of course. The first two to step up included who most of the Emperor’s Court had considered the ‘favorite.’ She heard the whispers as the two took the field. ‘Roban is so cute! The most gifted samurai of his generation! A peerless swordsman!’ It made her want to vomit.

She couldn’t say that out loud, of course. Instead she watched Roban take his stance. Position two, the high guard. She heard he was an aggressive swordsman, and to start in Position two only confirmed the rumors. His opponent, a young woman named Yuki, held her sword in Position one, her sword set in front of her ready to meet her opponent’s blow.

Masashi, the Imperial Advisor, stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Today we determine which of these eight honorable Samurai deserves to take the spot of the Tenth of the Emperor’s Chosen! These battles will take place until one combatant gives up or is incapacitated. Combatants, are you ready?”

The two nodded at Masashi. The Advisor’s hand was placed between them. And then, “Begin!”

It was over as fast as it started. Masashi was too quick, too powerful for Yuki. His initial strike forced the blade from her hand. His second stopped just short of her throat. Yuki’s eyes widened, and she raised her hands in defeat.

Masashi raised his hand in the direction of the victorious Samurai. “Winner; Kimura Roban!” Roban’s cry of victory was met with polite applause. Himari, for her part, watched the man with wary eyes. He was fast. Perhaps faster than she was. But she thought she had an advantage in technique she could use against him. But before she could worry about him, she had to deal with the opponent in front of her. And as she was called up, she popped her neck and walked past Roban.

The older man sneered at her as she passed. “Good luck, Spoiled brat,” he growled into her ear. She paid it no mind. Let him assume that she was a good for nothing waif. Being underestimated was entirely to her advantage.

Her opponent now surprised her slightly, only in that he only looked a year or two older, instead of the average of five to six that covered the rest of the field. His face was surprisingly soft, and as the two bowed to each other, she couldn’t help but wonder if he had the benefit of powerful family as well.

“The second match! Sato Himari faces Kobe Akihiko! Combatants, are you ready?”

Her eyes steeled into focus. It didn’t matter who this person was. All that mattered was that he was in her way. Her blade lifted to fourth position, left foot forward as her blade set in front of her right shoulder. He maintained first position. The two nodded.

“Begin!”

Unlike Roban, Himari wasn’t in a rush to assault his opponent. Instead, she circled him right. He responded by pivoting left, keeping her blade facing hers. She took a breath, then adjusted from fourth position to third. Her blade pointed down towards the floor, ready to parry and counter attack. He lifted his blade high into position two. Their eyes squinted. For a moment, she couldn’t hear anything, save the sound of rustling leaves.

It was in that moment that he charged forward, bringing his blade down in a killing arc. She stepped to the side, her blade clashing only briefly against his as she spun and rammed her elbow into his kidney. A loud grunt escaped, but as he attempted to counterattack, she had already stepped out of his reach. The two circled each other again, but she smiled. She needn’t be so worried.

He set quickly to position two and charged. He had come to the same conclusion that she had: this was not a fight that would draw out. This time, however, she swapped back to position four and prepped to meet him.As his blade came down, almost trying to crush her more than cut her, her blade adjusted to a horizontal slash. The two stepped past each other. A breath. A second. And then Akihiko collapsed to one knee. Blood escaped his stomach in a thin line, staining the brown kimono he wore. He tried to rise for a moment, but the threat of losing more blood kept him down. His free hand raised then in acquiescence: Himari had past her first of today’s trials.

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“Winner: Sato Himari!” Himari flicked the blood off of her blade and turned, bowing to the young man.

“Thank you,” she said calmly. “For the lesson.”

Medics and an Onmyoji rushed to help the young Akihiko. She knew how she caught him; without attention that wound could be lethal quickly. So instead of waiting unfairly for a bow, she simply left the field.

‘She almost killed him,’ Himari heard the whisper from a nearby Courtier. ‘Shouldn’t one of the Chosen exercise more control?’

She snorted, her eyes looking over to her Father standing just to the right of the Resplendent Ichiya XL. He stared back at her with a carefully neutral expression, but one that she could read; she should have ended it faster. He wasn’t impressed. Not that he ever was.

The next two matches proceeded without much fanfare. The two remaining Samurai, Ryoko and Taika, defeated their opponents in impressive bouts. But Himari could not help but feel as if they were a step below her and Roban in terms of overall skill. Her truest test was, in truth, Roban. And as she received a nod from Masashi, Himari rose and made her way to the ring.

Roban stood two heads taller than she did. He was the sort who trained entirely for power, and his large frame showed off that particular drive. He had one of those faces that most likely considered handsome. Himari just thought he looked a bit stupid.

“Where’s your sword, Spoiled Brat?” His voice sneered at Himari. “Do you really expect to defeat me without your magic crutch?”

Her eyes took him in, feigning disinterest. She thought he was her strongest competition, but that didn’t mean she could let him know that she cared about what he thought. “I have everything I need to defeat a fool in this ring.”

Roban did not disguise his look of rage, even as Himari bowed crisply, calmly. She would not dare show him her own nervousness. His emotions were just another tool she could utilize for victory.

“The First of our Semifinal bouts; Sato Himari vs. Kimura Roban!” Masashi’s voice was crisp, as always, piercing through the whispers of Courtiers and sycophants to catch attention on the match to come. “Competitors, are you ready?”

Roban took position two again. Himari, however, kept her katana in her sheathe, dropping into a traditional iaijutsu stance. The two stood facing each other, each nodding their readiness without ever taking eyes off the other.

“Begin!”

Roban was a flurry of motion, stepping forward to slash down at her without any thought or preparation. Himari’s draw was quick and precise, spoiling his blow by striking her tsuka to the side of his blade. Her blade struck for his throat, but he was able to backstep, and she only caught his cheek, tracing a thin line of blood. A grunt escaped Roban, but Himari simply took two steps back into position three.

Roban didn’t rush her a second time, and that fact caused a brief smile to play on Himari’s lips. Mitigating his aggression, she believed, took away his biggest advantage. The two circled now, Roban taking a more neutral position one. He came at her first again, but this time as he moved to feint low, she was caught off guard as her attempt to block was met with a kick to the chest. Himari sprawled backwards, her sword clattering a short distance away even as she pushed quickly to her feet. She cursed herself briefly for not anticipating that he’d use his feet to strike. But he was approaching confidently, his sword against her fists, and she had to come up with a plan quickly.

“What’s wrong, Spoiled Brat?” He taunted. “I thought you had everything you needed to defeat a fool! Well who is the fool now?”

She grit her teeth, not allowing herself to be enraged by his taunts. He was close now, and she grit her teeth as he prepared to strike a telling blow. As his arms came down, her hands grabbed the sleeve of his kimono and she turned quickly, using his momentum to flip him over her shoulder. The sudden thud against the grown seemed to stun him briefly, his sword arm briefly loosening on the blade. She grabbed the blade quickly and put her foot on his chest, sword pointed now at his throat. “Yield,” she demanded, eyes focused as she watched for any movement that would try to further resist.

He stared up at her, anger giving way to fear for his life. “I yield! I yield!” His voice was panicked, surprise and concern both escaping his voice like a torrent.

“Winner; Sato Himari!” Masashi’s voice was a relief to her ears. She lifts her foot off of him and sets his blade down, stepping back and bowing.

“Thank you for the lesson, Roban-san,” her voice was again clear and relaxed, and she moved to collect her own sword.

Roban sat up quickly and collected his blade, staring at her for a moment. His face was blank briefly… then settled quickly into anger. “You bitch!” His hand tightened on his sword and he charged her, blade high in his rage.

Himari set her feet, eyes turning to look at him. She set briefly, and this time as he brought his blade down, she struck with lethal intent. Her blade sliced cleanly through his right hand, and the limb fell harmlessly to the ground, sword in hand. Roban fell to his knees, screaming in pain as she placed her katana to his throat again.

“I should kill you for that,” she snarled. His eyes, once full of rage, looked up to her with fear. Her blade rose, preparing to end him for good.

“Himari-san, enough!” This voice surprised her; the voice of the Resplendent Emperor. Her eyes looked up to him, her blade lowering as she stepped forward and knelt at his acknowledgement.

The Emperor’s eyes looked at her kindly. “You have proven your point, Himari-san.” He looks to one of the guards. “Take Roban-san to be treated. Then place him under arrest for trying to assault another Samurai without cause. Himari-san, you may take your seat and prepare for your final bout.”

Himari could not help but smile. Roban was taken away, and she needn’t worry about him any longer. She moved to her seat, and this time as she sat there were no whispers coming after her. She had shown her control, after all. And it was Roban who lost his temper, not her. What else could they say?

As she began to clear her mind and prepare for the final battle, her confidence was at an all time high. She couldn’t help but sneak a look over at her father. She could swear she saw a smile play at his lips.