Tetsuo set his shamisen down on the ground beside him. “Oh,” he asked, “you wish to challenge me to a duel?” Ryoma tightened his grip on the katana in his hand and said, “Indeed. I’ve grown tired of the dribble that flows from your mouth, Tetsuo.” The monk closed his eyes and contemplated the situation for more than a moment.

Eventually, Tetsuo, not saying a word, picked himself up from his seated position and began walking toward a back door to a side hallway. Before Ryoma or the others could process what had happened, he was gone. “Wait a minute,” Yuki asked, “where is he going?” Himiko shrugged and said, “I suppose we’ll just have to wait for him to return.”

And so, Ryoma sheathed his sword and lowered his stern expression with a sigh. He then lowered down onto the wooden planks beneath him and rested for a while. Truth be told, all of them were quite worn out by the trek from Himiko’s village to the temple, so a period of rest could only prove useful to them all.

“Ryoma,” Himiko said, “I implore you to reconsider your challenge to Tetsuo.” Such words took Ryoma aback as he expected the shrine maiden to be on his side. “Why do you say that?” He asked. She lowered her gaze and said, “I believe we’ve merely gotten off on the wrong foot in our approach to asking him for assistance. After all, we were admittedly quite rude in how we barged in without permission.”

Feeling a tinge of guilt, Ryoma was about to relent to Himiko’s point when Yuki interjected, “Wait just a moment, Himiko. I’m all for the notion that we shouldn’t have walked in of our own accord, but do remember that we only did so due to the fact that he judged against me at first sight! It’s completely unfair for him to treat us as such!”

Ryoma nodded and said, “Yuki has a point, Himiko; Tetsuo was wrong to label us as nefarious prior to even holding a conversation. We shouldn’t let that slide.” Himiko looked away from either of them in shame and said, “But I did the same thing, I’m afraid. Regrettably, I was skeptical about Yuki’s intentions when I first encountered the two of you. I’ve since learned the errors of my ways, of course, but the initial reaction still proves to be a stain on my conscious.”

Yuki placed a webbed hand on Himiko’s shoulder and said, “Oh, Himiko, you needn’t concern yourself with the you from the past when the you here and now accepts me. That’s all the matters in my eyes. The fact that we can be friends far outweighs any preconceived notions that no longer exist.” Himiko smiled, a tear forming in her eye, and wrapped her arms around the kappa. “Thank you.” She said.

“Regardless of how he may feel in the future,” Ryoma said, “Tetsuo’s running off at the mouth has really riled me up in the present, and I think it’s time someone taught him a lesson.” Yuki and Himiko looked away from the samurai and toward one another. Silence permeated amidst the trio until eventually, Yuki relented and said, “I suppose there’s no chance in us changing how you feel about the matter, Ryoma. If you must do battle, we won’t stop you.”

Himiko nodded in agreeance, so Ryoma smiled and said, “Thank you for understanding.” He turned his attention to the doorway that Tetsuo disappeared through and placed his hand back onto the hilt of his blade. “And now,” he said, “we wait.” However, time continued marching ever forward with no sign of the monk. At first, it was merely a peculiarity that he had yet to resurface, yet as the wait for him grew longer, curiosity gave way to contempt which boiled into fury.

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“What’s taking him so long?” Himiko asked. Yuki cleared his throat and asked, “I hate to be the one to suggest this, but do you suppose he simply left out the back and ran away from Ryoma’s challenge?” Himiko, despite not really knowing the monk, said, “I doubt Tetsuo would do such a thing.” Ryoma finally answered, “We don’t know what cowardly tactics that monk might stoop to in order to avoid a confrontation. It would probably behoove us to check the back rooms for ourselves.”

Without further delay, the trio made their way back to the rear door and entered into the side hallway. Seeing multiple doors adorning the walls, Ryoma sighed and said, “I suppose we’ll need to check them all.” And so, they made their way to each and every room, inspecting the interiors yet finding no one. Yuki said, “I suppose Tetsuo is the only monk present.” Ryoma sneered and said, “If he’s here at all.”

The last door they checked seemed to be a kitchen area. Various jars of rations along with racks of herbs and spices lined the room. An island in the middle of the kitchen had a fire at its basin, and on the top of it all rested a simmering tea kettle. The flames were suddenly quelled with a wash of water, smoke billowing from the basin, and through its haze, a figure rose up from the other side of the island.

“Would anyone care for tea?” Tetsuo asked. “It’s fresh as you can see.” The trio said nothing as the monk went to the cabinets and procured three cups. He then said, “Tea has such a calming effect on the body, both by drinking it and simply admiring its aroma. I always fancy a cup when conflict rears its ugly head.” He began pouring the brew into the three cups and, whilst doing so, continued, “It soothes me so, and as such, I implore you to have a cup with me, samurai. You should partake as well, maiden. And sorry, demon, I only intend to share with humans; I’m sure you’ll understand.”

Yuki almost growled at Tetsuo yet refrained. Ryoma simply said, “I’ll pass. And I’d prefer if you would quit stalling.” The monk sighed and said, “Very well. I’ll hurry myself along.” With that, he placed the kettle back onto the island and lifted one of the cups to his lips. Tilting his head back, he downed its entire contents in one gulp. Then he placed the cup next to the kettle, grinned, and said, “Now, that hit the spot. Okay, I’m ready for our fight.”

Tetsuo bent down out of sight once again, but only for a moment before returning with a pair of iron nunchakus. Then, he said, “Alright, draw your weapon, samurai.” Ryoma didn’t hesitate to comply, unsheathing his katana with blistering speeds. Without further prodding, he rushed toward the monk and slashed away. Himiko and Yuki ran to the side of the cabinets to avoid the danger.

Without exerting himself, Tetsuo held up his nunchakus and blocked the oncoming assaults. Once, twice, thrice he reflected the swipes toward his body with an oxymoronic sense of listless grace. His apathy for the battle was abundantly apparent, yet his movements proved to be just enough to retaliate against Ryoma’s maneuvers.

Eventually, Tetsuo sighed and said, “It appears this is the extent of your capabilities, my dear, imperial warrior. Let’s finish this escapade, shall we?” Ryoma became incensed, halfway due to his inability to land a blow against the monk and the rest due to his opponent’s sheer arrogance. “Well now,” Ryoma said, “it seems to me that I’ve had you cornered from the start of this bout. You haven’t swung at me a single time.”

“Do you want me to truly test my prowess?” Tetsuo asked. Ryoma nodded, so the monk scowled and continued, “Very well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” In the blink of an eye, he had raised the nunchakus with one arm, and, before the half he wasn’t holding could so much as dangle in the air, he brought down the weapon with a fervent might. Ryoma backstepped to avoid the brunt of the attack and slashed upward to meet his blow. When the two weapons clashed, Ryoma’s katana snapped into two pieces.