So, this is just a two page story I cooked up. I'd like editing very much! Also, please be as harsh as possible: I am sending this in for a contest.
So, here we go:
Collin Lysford
Escaping from the Shadow
“I wasn’t ready.”
Hiro Okimono looked at his master, with jet black eyes illuminated by the fires of defiance, and repeated, “I wasn’t ready.”
Hiro’s master, Shuzu Ikoigami, master of the Shinkaizeen style of swordsmanship, looked at Hiro and said, “Then you fail.”
“I wasn’t ready!” Hiro yelled. “How am I supposed to be proven a warrior of the Shinkaizeen style when my master won’t let me take the test?!”
Shuzu chuckled. “How am I supposed to graduate a warrior who doesn’t know when his test has started?”
“Let me try again.”
“No.”
“I can do it this time!”
“No, Hiro.”
“You don’t think I’m good enough? Is that it?” Hiro challenged while trying to keep from sobbing. “You don’t think I deserve to do this?” He turned his head in order to hide the rebellious tears slowly making their decent down Hiro’s cheek.
“Hiro, Hiro, Hiro….” Shuzu reverted to a gentler tone. “You’re three years younger then the youngest of my graduates. The Shinkaizeen style takes practice. Why not wait another year?”
“Be…because…” Hiro choked down his sobs. “Because Jack graduated at 15!”
Jack. He was the reason Hiro was so stressed. No surprise, either: ever since he was a kid, all Hiro wanted to do was beat Jack. In fact, Hiro had chosen the Shinkaizeen style because of its proven effectiveness against Jack’s style, the Nuriii style. The Shinkaizeen’s main teaching was to gain control of the blade by spinning it with two fingers, thereby allowing it to change positions far quicker then normal blades. The Nurii style, on the other hand, involved accurately throwing the blade in a deliberately misleading fashion. However, one who had mastered the Shinkaizeen style could have their blade deflect the opponents directly before impact, thereby disarming the enemy.
“You don’t need to be better then Jack.”
“Yes I do!”
“Why? Of the other swordsmen, why Jack? Plenty of competent fighters who mastered their styles 5, even ten years older then you are now? Why pick the youngest swordsmen ever to graduate as your idol?!”
“Because I want to have that title.”
“You don’t need to be the best!”
“I do!” Hiro screamed. “I’m an illegitimate child, Shuzu! My father never married before he died! My mom is just a bar wench. I’m the last of the Okimono line.”
“But if you marry…”
“If I marry, I’ll take my wife’s name! I don’t get that sort of right. Unless I do something great, no one will ever remember the Okimono’s! And…,” Hiro added, tears filling his eyes as he spoke,” I’m just average. You’ve noticed it, I’m sure: the way I hold my blades, and how I always pause before maneuvering. The only advantage I have is my youth, and that won’t work after today! Jack was a day older then I am now when he mastered the Nurii style. This is it, Shuzu! So please...please, let me try one more time.”
“Hiro…I want to, but it won’t be real, and they’ll know. No matter how hard you try to hide it, they’ll know you never really graduated from the Shinkaizeen style.”
“Let me prove my skill! I’ll do whatever it takes! I don’t care about living or dying! I just want to add vestige to the god-forsaken title of Okimono before it dies.”
One thought managed to separate itself from the mental maelstrom caused by Hiro’s revelations. “Your dad is dead? Where have you been going after training all these years?”
A guilty look wormed its way onto Hiro’s face. “There’s a cave, in the forest near here. I’ve been staying there since dad died.”
“When was that?””
“About…seven, no, eight years ago.”
Shuzu was silenced. All those years Hiro had been his disciple, all those years he had pushed him to the limit, Hiro went to a cave awaiting nothing more then the next day of rigorous work.
“How did you get food?”
“Killed some animals, picked some berries, and begged a few times…I was never starving, though.”
Shuzu looked at Hiro. Now that he was really looking for them, Shuzu saw the signs of Hiro’s poverty: ribs showing through his pockmarked skin, black circles under his eyes, and hair matted with leaves and twigs.
Shuzu pondered the situation for five grueling minutes, while Hiro tensely waited for his master’s verdict. Right before Hiro was about to break down due to the nerves, Shuzu quietly stated “I have made a decision. Hiro…” However, rather then finishing his sentence, he charged headlong at Hiro, twirling his blades in the practiced matter of the Shinkaizeen style. Hiro parried the blow with skill equal to his masters.
Shuzu’s blades came from every direction, with Hiro’s intercepting every once. It was plain, however, that Hiro was fighting defensively, and with every blow pushed away by Hiro’s blades, his stance got a little worse. It was plain to Shuzu that soon his student’s guard would fail, and so would he. Despite the pity Shuzu felt for Hiro, he was a man of honor. He grimly swung his blade to deal the finishing blow.
But Hiro jumped to the left, and quickly used the Art of the Dancing Blade, one of the toughest Shinkaizeen maneuvers that was done by using two fingers to have the blade quickly jab at the opponent.
Shuzu tried to guard from the maneuver, but Hiro was on a determined offensive, and quickly grazed the side of Shuzu’s shirt.
“Enough!” Shuzu yelled. Hiro complied, looking at Shuzu intently. “That wasn’t your test,” Shuzu continued. “However, seeing your improved performance, I have no choice but to believe that you were not fully prepared for the first test, thus making it null and void. Return to the starting position and we will retry your test. Once.”
Hiro walked toward the end of the dojo. He drew his blades and bowed to Shuzu, as protocol required.
“I’m ready.”
So, here we go:
Collin Lysford
Escaping from the Shadow
“I wasn’t ready.”
Hiro Okimono looked at his master, with jet black eyes illuminated by the fires of defiance, and repeated, “I wasn’t ready.”
Hiro’s master, Shuzu Ikoigami, master of the Shinkaizeen style of swordsmanship, looked at Hiro and said, “Then you fail.”
“I wasn’t ready!” Hiro yelled. “How am I supposed to be proven a warrior of the Shinkaizeen style when my master won’t let me take the test?!”
Shuzu chuckled. “How am I supposed to graduate a warrior who doesn’t know when his test has started?”
“Let me try again.”
“No.”
“I can do it this time!”
“No, Hiro.”
“You don’t think I’m good enough? Is that it?” Hiro challenged while trying to keep from sobbing. “You don’t think I deserve to do this?” He turned his head in order to hide the rebellious tears slowly making their decent down Hiro’s cheek.
“Hiro, Hiro, Hiro….” Shuzu reverted to a gentler tone. “You’re three years younger then the youngest of my graduates. The Shinkaizeen style takes practice. Why not wait another year?”
“Be…because…” Hiro choked down his sobs. “Because Jack graduated at 15!”
Jack. He was the reason Hiro was so stressed. No surprise, either: ever since he was a kid, all Hiro wanted to do was beat Jack. In fact, Hiro had chosen the Shinkaizeen style because of its proven effectiveness against Jack’s style, the Nuriii style. The Shinkaizeen’s main teaching was to gain control of the blade by spinning it with two fingers, thereby allowing it to change positions far quicker then normal blades. The Nurii style, on the other hand, involved accurately throwing the blade in a deliberately misleading fashion. However, one who had mastered the Shinkaizeen style could have their blade deflect the opponents directly before impact, thereby disarming the enemy.
“You don’t need to be better then Jack.”
“Yes I do!”
“Why? Of the other swordsmen, why Jack? Plenty of competent fighters who mastered their styles 5, even ten years older then you are now? Why pick the youngest swordsmen ever to graduate as your idol?!”
“Because I want to have that title.”
“You don’t need to be the best!”
“I do!” Hiro screamed. “I’m an illegitimate child, Shuzu! My father never married before he died! My mom is just a bar wench. I’m the last of the Okimono line.”
“But if you marry…”
“If I marry, I’ll take my wife’s name! I don’t get that sort of right. Unless I do something great, no one will ever remember the Okimono’s! And…,” Hiro added, tears filling his eyes as he spoke,” I’m just average. You’ve noticed it, I’m sure: the way I hold my blades, and how I always pause before maneuvering. The only advantage I have is my youth, and that won’t work after today! Jack was a day older then I am now when he mastered the Nurii style. This is it, Shuzu! So please...please, let me try one more time.”
“Hiro…I want to, but it won’t be real, and they’ll know. No matter how hard you try to hide it, they’ll know you never really graduated from the Shinkaizeen style.”
“Let me prove my skill! I’ll do whatever it takes! I don’t care about living or dying! I just want to add vestige to the god-forsaken title of Okimono before it dies.”
One thought managed to separate itself from the mental maelstrom caused by Hiro’s revelations. “Your dad is dead? Where have you been going after training all these years?”
A guilty look wormed its way onto Hiro’s face. “There’s a cave, in the forest near here. I’ve been staying there since dad died.”
“When was that?””
“About…seven, no, eight years ago.”
Shuzu was silenced. All those years Hiro had been his disciple, all those years he had pushed him to the limit, Hiro went to a cave awaiting nothing more then the next day of rigorous work.
“How did you get food?”
“Killed some animals, picked some berries, and begged a few times…I was never starving, though.”
Shuzu looked at Hiro. Now that he was really looking for them, Shuzu saw the signs of Hiro’s poverty: ribs showing through his pockmarked skin, black circles under his eyes, and hair matted with leaves and twigs.
Shuzu pondered the situation for five grueling minutes, while Hiro tensely waited for his master’s verdict. Right before Hiro was about to break down due to the nerves, Shuzu quietly stated “I have made a decision. Hiro…” However, rather then finishing his sentence, he charged headlong at Hiro, twirling his blades in the practiced matter of the Shinkaizeen style. Hiro parried the blow with skill equal to his masters.
Shuzu’s blades came from every direction, with Hiro’s intercepting every once. It was plain, however, that Hiro was fighting defensively, and with every blow pushed away by Hiro’s blades, his stance got a little worse. It was plain to Shuzu that soon his student’s guard would fail, and so would he. Despite the pity Shuzu felt for Hiro, he was a man of honor. He grimly swung his blade to deal the finishing blow.
But Hiro jumped to the left, and quickly used the Art of the Dancing Blade, one of the toughest Shinkaizeen maneuvers that was done by using two fingers to have the blade quickly jab at the opponent.
Shuzu tried to guard from the maneuver, but Hiro was on a determined offensive, and quickly grazed the side of Shuzu’s shirt.
“Enough!” Shuzu yelled. Hiro complied, looking at Shuzu intently. “That wasn’t your test,” Shuzu continued. “However, seeing your improved performance, I have no choice but to believe that you were not fully prepared for the first test, thus making it null and void. Return to the starting position and we will retry your test. Once.”
Hiro walked toward the end of the dojo. He drew his blades and bowed to Shuzu, as protocol required.
“I’m ready.”
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