The Day of Thunder

In so peaceful a setting, Ranmaru felt comfortable enough to bare his chest. Well, he didn't need much of a reason to. He admired his reflection, taking extra care to poke his bulging biceps and slick back his hair. Perhaps soon he could develop some sort of new technique to calm the mind through such methods.

Hikaru found himself drawn back to the garden. This wasn't surprising; where else would one find a Crane? After all, Lady Doji loved gardens... Hikaru's expression was pensive as he walked slowly through the area.

However, this time, the garden had a new feature. A bare-chested man. His slow walk came to a stop, Hikaru frowning at the curious sight. Wasn't he cold?

Slowly approaching, Hikaru bowed. "Greetings, Dragon-san." He greeting the man, still frowning, confused. "I hope you are well?"

When Ranmaru looked over, he was overwhelmed with joy. So far in this journey, he had struggled to find a man who pleased him. Too crass, too odd, too tainted by women... Well, this Crane was a little effeminate but that did not mean that he could not be swayed from it. Because above all else, there was a look of a warrior to this one.

Ranmaru averted his gaze for a moment, took a breath, then came back with a striking expression with slightly puckered lips. "I am quite well, especially now." A mundane statement, though one with the social training of the Doji might be able to intuit the meaning beneath. "Well, let's get this out of the way. No more 'Dragon' in reference to me. Saru Ranmaru is what they call me."

Hikaru blinked. A Doji might interpret that correctly, but a Doji might also choose to pretend that it was nothing. "Very well." Hikaru said plainly, bowing. "Saru-san. I am Doji Hikaru. It is an honor to meet you."

He frowned studying the other man. Specifically, his face. "Have we met before? I have spent some time in Dragon lands, in Togashi's court. And when Lord Togashi visited the Crane, I was serving as Lady Doji's retainer."

"Ah, there's no need to be so stiff." Ranmaru pressed his lips together, shook his head, then smirked. "We're not in either of their courts right now." There was a reason why he struggled to speak with the Crane and the Stag the most.

"Oh? If I forgot you, then I'd be quite ashamed, especially if you remember me." Ranmaru flicked his hair in a fit of flamboyance. "You might have seen me training in Niten?"

"That's true." Hikaru said, giving a slow nod. "However, wherever I go, I am Lady Doji's representative. While I need not behave exactly as I do in her court, I take care that my behavior does not deviate too much from that standard."

"Niten..." Hikaru frowned thoughtfully, looking at the two swords on the man's hip. He had two swords and zero shirts... "I have heard of this style, using two swords, although I have not had the honor of studying it." He gave Ranmaru another nod. "Would you tell me of it?"

Ranmaru scratched the back of his head. "Well, I guess my sensei always told me not to deviate too far from the basics. It could be the same thing for speaking real nice in the courts." There was an inherent disrespect for it in his words, though he was making an effort to not disparage the handsome man in front of him.

"Niten is based on the principle: is not two swords, or two hands, in service of one's lord better than one?" Ranmaru ran a finger across one pommel and then the next. "It is a different beauty, one that I of course value the most. There is less emphasis on form and more on flow."

"Perhaps so." Hikaru said dryly.

He did listen, wearing an expression of polite interest, as Ranmaru went on. "Perhaps..." Hikaru said, although this time it was thoughtful. "In the Crane, we seek to perfect a single strike. To pour everything that we are into a single moment of steel." He pursed his lips. "What do you mean, flow more than form?"

Shirtless or no, Hikaru was perfectly happy to talk about the art of the sword with this man.

"Niten would disagree on the principle that a single strike is not reliable," Ranmaru recited. He took a moment to think about his own words. "Would you practice only a single strike then? What if that becomes too predictable? Then you must do another, then another, and slowly this perfection cannot be maintained."

His expression darkened. "Not to mention these bizarre monsters I've heard about. I doubt any of them could be felled by a single strike."

With a sigh, he dismissed the outlier of the Corruption. At least, he hoped that it would not become so commonplace. "As for flow over form, there are some who care more maintaining rigidity in their strikes rather than the function. A dead foe is a dead foe. Moreover, to separate one's mindset between casual life and combat is... Well, assuming one's stance could waste precious seconds." There was a reason why Ranmaru always stood ready for a fight.

"If a single strike is not reliable, perhaps one needs more practice." Hikaru's lips pursed, approaching a smile, but not quite getting there. "But really, one must seek to make every strike perfect. Or, as perfect as we can attain." Just as with his painting, Hikaru expected that he would be practicing the blade as long as he lived.

His expression grew more serious. "But you're right. The creatures of corruption are serious foes." Hikaru frowned. "Or so I understand. I have only faced humans who have given themselves over to it." At that, Hikaru fell silent for a few moments.

Then he shook his head, coming out of it. "I see. So you must have a fast draw." Hikaru half-stated, half-asked.

"Maybe we should go over the definition of a perfect strike. I, for one, would find the one that lands the felling blow to be the pinnacle of perfection." Function over form, again. "Moreover, could one not release a flurry of competent strikes, all while leading up to the climax?" Ranmaru's hands moved closer to his pelvis because of course they would.

"Vicious stories, according to the Crab. I've seen this sickness back in my lands too, though nothing to the extent they described." Ranmaru had thought an awful long (and hard?) time about how it would have turned out if their entire contingent had been comprised of men instead. His current conclusion was that they would have done much better, of course.

But now was the time to talk about SWORDS. "Of course! I would have demonstrated right now, though I didn't wish to signal any hostile intent on accident." It would have been a tragic tale if these two pinnacles of manliness had killed each other over a simple misunderstanding. Kind of romantic though...

Hikaru shook his head. "Can you define the perfect painting? When you see it, or feel it, or perform it, you will know." One eyebrow went up. He hoped Ranmaru's hand was moving closer to his swords as they spoke of them.

"The Crab are correct." Hikaru said. "I find this corruption especially distasteful because it turns dreams against the dreamer. I knew a man who dreamed of perfection, and sacrificed himself to get closer to it." He shook his head. "The only defense against it can be a soul of steel." Then he frowned, brow furrowing and lips pursing. Perhaps there were other things.

Once more, a smile just touched his lips. "Very well. Show me." He nodded. "Unless you also wish to see mine..." Hikaru didn't intend any double-entendre. Seriously, he didn't. Stop looking at him like that!

Well, as licentious as Ranmaru could be, he wasn't going to just start grabbing things he shouldn't during polite conversation. "Do painters not make mistakes? They then correct them." He pressed his lips together. "Though that is not a matter of life and death. Besides, it's a thing best left for women."

At the mention of strengthening one's soul, Ranmaru nodded rigorously. "Exactly. A man with no doubt will not succumb. We, as humans, have created a world in which many do doubt however."

Since he was given approval, Ranmaru drew both of the swords simultaneously! It could have been quite devastating in combat. "Yes! Show me!"

The Dragon was fast, to be sure. "Impressive. Very nice." Hikaru said nodding. "Let us see my draw."

He did not draw just yet though. Was Hikaru waiting for the perfect moment, or did he have a flair for the dramatic. Either way, he waited, several seconds passing.

And then he drew his sword too!

When Ranmaru blinked, the sword had come out. He blinked even more as he regarded the craftsmanship. Look at the sharpness, the tasteful thickness of the grip. By the kami, it even has lacquering. His forehead broke out in a sweat as his swords shook in his hands.

Hikaru's face gave nothing away... but inwardly he wondered what it would be like to handle two swords at once. Just a little.

Nodding, he smoothed his sword in a smooth motion. "Do you practice the art of iaijutsu, Saru-san? You have a very fast draw, of course. But iaijutsu is more than just a quick draw." He expected that Ranmaru already knew this, of course.

Ranmaru, of all men, was the best at handling two swords.

"It's a requirement of Mirumoto's," he said, with only a bit of reverence in it. His true intentions were to surpass him, to teach warriors better than him. It was a point of contention, of course, but in a way Ranmaru expected that it was the way of the warrior (the general sort, not the extremely gay version of it). "The stuff surrounding duels is all kind of weird to me. However, what better time is there for two men to know one another?" Well, there was one way better than assessing each other, focusing on each other, and then thrusting into each other... Hmm...

Hikaru frowned but nodded. "Indeed. It is a true test of skill."

Respectfully he bowed. "If you would care to test your skill against mine in practice, I would agree to that. Perhaps in a few days' time?"

The frown wasn't something he expected. "Yes, so we should. Then we can decide which style is preferable." One sword or two swords... Truly a riveting story of manhood.