The Day of Thunder

Ai was training, focusing on her swordplay and perfecting the sacred stance of her Honored Father.

This time it was Naraku's turn to 'surprise' Ai in the gardens. "Every day your form seems deadlier. I might as well be careful to not get in your bad side," he joked as he paced towards the Crane.

He looks at her unsure on what to say or even how to approach the topic. How do you ask someone if they're ok because their godlike mother is stuck in Yume-Do. He mulls over how to best approach it before settling on the trusty "How are you holding up Ai-san?"

She finished a strike and then eased the blade into the saya and said, "I am well, Naraku-san; all things considered. And you?"

Naraku gauged her reaction, squinting his eyes at her words before relaxing and sighing. "I am glad Ai-san," he admitted. "I know you are all right but... everything will be alright."

It felt like Naraku was also convincing himself. Steeling his mind in the face of the events that had transpired in this garden.

“Are you… okay? You seem to have something occupying your thoughts? Given everything that has occurred in the last few days I would be surprised if you didn’t have something on your mind,” she responded.

“Hopefully more than concern for my form, as I said, you have nothing to fear from me.”

Was this one of the famous Doji misdirection techniques? Naraku thought and smiled, shaking his head. "I am fairly well but yes... these new developments are certainly washing on us with the subtlety of a tsunami. I worry, for all of us and for you, but then it soothes my mind to know that we shall persevere."

He grinned at her comment. "Is it strange to comment on your form? After all aren't we kharmically destined to duel on a landscape due to my slights when I met you?" he chuckled. "I'll warn you. I'll have the high terrain."

“I thought the slights were settled and we are now friends,” she said warmly.

“But if that is not so, then this is a beautiful backdrop for such a confrontation. The time, not so much, dusk or dawn and we should stand there near the bridge, to better set my grandmother in a place she can observe and yet not obstruct our vision.”

“Then we see whose blade strikes quickly and draws crimson, and then depart without animosity for the Heavens have spoken.”

She smirked and said, “But that is fantasy, your troubled thoughts are the current reality.”

"Yes, friends," Naraku nodded and let a small chuckle. "But one can only wonder"

He listened silently as Ai skillfully painted the scene for their confrontation, 'ohs' and 'ah' dotting his silence. When she finishes he shakes his head. "Not troubled, rather worried. Not for me mind you, but for all of us," he said warmly "But after hearing you describe our possible duel I can assure you all of my worries have been assuaged," he chuckled.

His eyes set on her once more "You remind me of my twin in some ways."

“I will take that as high praise as you seem to have a high estimation of her,” she said warmly.

“Though that begs the question of how I remind you of her? Or perhaps why?”

Her words make Naraku wonder. "I don't know. Physically you are fairly different. My twin looked very much like me, with long dark hair and green eyes, although she was a head shorter than me. Far prettier than me though, much like yourself in that sense."

"She didn't have my charming countenance and her presence could truly light up a room, I think the only times I saw my father smile were thanks to her personality. She was cheerful but not childish and a compassionate soul," he continues his eyes tinged with sadness. "This does not mean she was a push-over. She was firm and intransigent in the face of injustice, and skilled with the blade in ways that I simply am not."

"She also had a taste for the finer arts, despite the traditional spartan attitude of the Hiruma. She loved to play for me and I think..." he composes himself. "I think the reason I pretend I dislike music is because it reminds me of her. She used to play the shamisen for me. When I got into trouble. When I was a little rabblerouser," he laughs. "I was a handful when I was a child."

"She was destined to greatness and, by all means, she'd have been the perfect Thunder," he sighs. "Yet she was cut down and that was not to be. She was the one meant to be here and yet I was the one that appeared. Not following a summon but simply because I was hunting monsters. The Fortunes truly have a twisted sense of humor."

He looks at Ai. "I guess that's what I see in you. You are like her in many ways. You are firm yet understanding, and your honor is irreproachable. You truly have been prepared for this and to fight by your side is an incredible honor," he let a single laugh. "Hell, you've even made me be less of dour."

She said warmly, “Your sister lived a good life, though short she lived well and it says much of her that you speak so highly of her. Thus her spirit lives on in your memories and thoughts. And if you are the Thunder for the Crab, she will be there with you every step of the way.”

She laughed lightly and said, “But I will say you are far too kind, Naraku-san and thank you for the compliments. My father prepared me for this since I was young, all of us really. It was good but at times I feel like I had to grow up faster than some would say is needed. But knowing an apocalypse could happen in our lifetime… sacrifices must be made.”

“If you have need to polish your bladesmanship, I would be willing to offer what guidance I can,” she said.

Crab Thunder? Naraku entertained the thought for a while before smiling faintly; just a few weeks ago he would have scoffed at the idea of being any sort of hero.

"I am not kind Ai-san," he interjected. "I am honest. You represent your clan excellently and your preparation shows. Although sometimes you might be a bit rough around the edges," he teased her. "And mind you, you're not too hard on the eyes."

He blushed slightly after hearing his last comment and quickly moved on "She was better than me, but I am still fairly skilled," he retorted after composing himself. "But an untrained blade quickly becomes a dull blade. I would not mind being your training partner."

“If you think so, you should see my sisters, your eyes would enjoy their softness if you give me such high praise,” she said with a light preening laughter.

“Among the Crane I am known as the gruff one, or the hard one; the bad magistrate to their good magistrate,” she teased. “If you have a moment, perhaps I could observe your stance and form. I am curious to see the form of Hiruma and Crab bladesmanship in general.”

"I don't like softness," he stopped himself before continuing, blushing again before assuming nodding to her request.

Silently he assumed his form. It was hard to describe as it did not fit the definition of the more traditional forms. The Hiruma style seemed, at its core, to abstain from rigid forms and instead adopt a fairly fluid approach to combat. He was still but restless, like a flickering light in the darkness, like a wolf that surrounds its prey and waits to pounce at it to draw blood, like the hummingbird that never stopped while it darted at seemingly random positions. The Hiruma style seemed to focus precisely on that; to bleed an opponent from a thousand cuts whilst always being a breath away from the reach of its enemies.

"Unorthodox, and yet familiar," she said. "You seek to wear down the opponent with light cuts and slashes while we strive to end most conflicts with one or two decisive cuts delivered quickly. A long drawn out conflict would favor you, but not me," she added honestly.

"Curious and interesting. Have you studied the sacred art as well?"

He nodded, pleased by her insight. "Indeed, the objective of our style is to give us a fighting chance against enemies whose resilience might make it hard for us to fell them in one fell swoop."

"The sacred art?" he arches an eyebrow

"I suppose most call it simply, Iaijutsu, but for my Honored Father it is the Sacred Art that determined our Empire," she said warmly.

"I guess such a sacred art has not reached the halls of Kyuden Hiruma," he smiled. "Or perhaps it has but given my last five years as a glorified hermit, I wouldn't know it."

"What is it like?"

"In simplicity it is the drawing of the blade, so that it is ready to strike, where drawing and striking are one smooth act... unity of the soul, the mind and the heart," she responded.

"If that is confusing, a friendly exhibition may better illuminate understanding."

"But what if that strike misses or strikes shallow? Would that not open one to a counter attack from the opponent?" he questioned still unsure of that style. "Perhaps it would be to the best. I am always open to learning new things and this way I'd make sure that I am prepared if you ever decide to make the fantasy a reality."