Dɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ◆ #3E044A ❘ Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ◇ #DDA0DD

Kosuke had waited outside the ruined temple all day, watching opponents arriving. Some mercenaries, some yokai, perhaps some challenges. The lure of the prize money had been too much to resist. Although it went against his better instincts, Kosuke knew that with that amount of money he could raise an army he could have only dreamed of before. Sitting leant against a tree outside the temple he had considered his options. His head, covered by a wide-primmed peasant hat, was lowered, his eyes closed in silent meditation. The kiss of the breeze against his cheek and the noises of the city seemed to fade into the background as his thoughts took over.

He had been wandering the countryside when he had heard about this tournament. He didn't know who was hosting it, or why they seemed to want every lowlife from the mountains to the sea, but the reward offered seemed very real. Curiosity more than anything else had led him here. At the very least he might find some people willing to help him in this revenge. If not, more's the pity. He had prepared his equipment as much as he could, honing his katana to an edge that felt like it could slice air. His armour was less impressive. Despite all his best efforts, the red colour had almost gone, the clan markings with it. The straps and plates were still sound, but he was still annoyed that his last links to his home and family were fading away. This tournament could be the last chance. The last chance to get something solid against his uncle. Hayate had ruled for too long already, and any further delay would see him penniless and forgotten. A true ronin.

A sharp kick brought Kosuke back to his senses. Around him stood three of the ugliest bandits he'd ever seen. He fixed them with a cold eye, barely moving. "Hey pup. This place isn't for the likes of you. Why don't you run on home to mummy?" They sniggered as they took in his youthful appearance, neglecting the scar disfiguring his face. "Why don't you give us that nice sword while you're at it mummy's boy?" One of the bandits reached for Kosuke's katana, his stinking breath permeating the air.

Before the bandit could lay a finger on the scabbard, Kosuke was on his feet, his knee colliding with the bandit's chin on the way up, resounding in a loud crack. The other two stared, stunned as their comrade collapsed to the ground in an untidy heap, Kosuke's boot on the back of his neck. Looking out from under the brim of his hat Kosuke fixed them with an icy glare again, daring them to try. Surprisingly, the thugs backed off, raising their hands and leaving the third to his fate. Casually, Kosuke stepped down hard, feeling a satisfying crack as the bandit's neck broke. His mind was made up then. He would compete.

Finally walking into the ruined temple, a hand on the hilt of his katana, he scanned the gathered fighters again, finding most of those he had watched enter. Sliding his way through the crowd he found a shaded spot, and sat with his back to the wall, his legs crossed and his head down, his face once again obscured by the wide brim of his hat. This could be fun.

Kosuke watched from his corner in the shade as the competitors milled about. On further observation some looked like worthy challenges, others, less so. One fool who had entered with no clothes at all had just returned with a borrowed kimono. Kosuke smiled to himself. He would never sink that low. He would rather die. Spotting a kunoichi who looked about his age, he watched her with interest, attempting to calculate her skills. He would let her face some of the weaker ones before fighting her. Best if she was weakened first. Lowering his head again Kosuke slipped back into his meditation, blotting out the loud sounds of the crowd and seeking his inner battle-rythm in preparation. He could never say 'find peace'. He would never be at peace till his uncle laid dead and his family was avenged.

The sudden call for the competitors brought Kosuke out of his deep state and he looked up, watching as the others filed off deeper into the temple. Waiting until last, he slowly stood up, following the others with no real haste. Coming across the lines of competitors he leant back against another wall and watched as a well armoured man took to the stage in front of them. This was the kind of man who could be useful. Kosuke had heard about General Hashimoto, and the promise of the prize money and potentially the opportunity to ask him for help made Kosuke even more determined to win. His muscles bunched and his mind seethed as he weighed up targets around him. His outward appearance remained cool, but inside he was burning to begin, his eyes blazing beneath the wide brim of his hat.

Hashimoto's order for the tournament to commence jolted Kosuke away from the wall. He slowly straightened out and removed his hat, his long hair lifting a little in the breeze. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out his helmet. This was just as faded as his armour, but the horns were still there. Strapping on the helmet he stared straight ahead, slowing his racing heart and blocking out distractions. He would fight with his all. He would win or die in this, his last chance for redemption.

Dɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ◆ #3E044A ❘ Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ◇ #DDA0DD

Kosuke waited paitiently, barely hearing the cannon sounding. His eyes were fixed on the combat in front of him, but he wasn't really watching. The motions seemed fluid to him, slowed and easy to follow. The bellows of the yokai matched the cheers of the crowd, and yet seemed dull to Kosuke's ears. His attention was drawn by the sword of the yokai's opponent. Shimmering in the sunlight it was razor sharp, and looked beautiful to him. It would be a great sword to take as a trophy when he beat this man. The yokai was less impressive. Though big, its show of brute force was of little concern. Kosuke admired the man's poise and control, watching his movements closely.

The fight was impressive, but quick. The yokai's rage, rather than helping, dooming it. The blow delivered by the man was a style Kosuke had only seen once or twice before. One blow to kill a yokai. Impressive. Fighting him would be interesting, if he survived the next round that is. As the yokai's blood seeped into the sand, Kosuke noticed the man's new kimono was slashed again. This guy went through clothes like nothing else. If nothing else could be said for him, he certainly didn't spend too much time on vanities. Conscious of his fading clan markings, Kosuke stroked the one on his chest subconsciously. It wouldn't be long before it disappeared completely. He must find some paint at the next opportunity.

A call brought Kosuke out of his reverie. Looking up he locked eyes with General Hashimoto, and realised he was pointing at him. Stepping forwards to the center, Kosuke stood quietly, waiting for his opponent. Barely containing the excitement, a small shiver went through his body, ending in a slight grin that was barely noticeable. The man who stepped forwards just so happened to be one of the bandits who had accosted Kosuke outside, suddenly eager to avenge his fallen comrade, a horrific grimace on his face. The man held a nasty looking cleaver, barely a precision weapon and of no real concern.

The call to begin sounded and the man lept forwards, swinging his cleaver in a wild arc. Kosuke nimbly dodged aside, having not drawn his own weapon yet. In frustration the bandit growled and swung again, slashing at a red blur as Kosuke danced around him. Whilst recovering from a heavy swing, the bandit fell forwards into the sand as Kosuke delivered a hard kick to his rear. In peals of laughter he stood up, even more determined to carve the arrogant ronin a new smile. His flurry of blows was caught short with the ring of metal on metal. A shimmering katana had appeared between them in a flash, and stopped the cleaver in mid swing. In a quick succession of blows, Kosuke drove the bandit back till, with a horrible splintering sound, the cleaver snapped in two. The point soared into the crowd, drawing a cry of pain from whoever it hit. Unconcerned, Kosuke quickly put his leg behind the bandits and flipped him over to the floor. Standing over him with his katana poised, he looked to Hashimoto for the next step.

The general shook his head and Kosuke stepped away, turning his back on the bandit and sheathing his sword. A shame. He would have liked to kill the man. Any who got in his way usually ended up dead, but better obey the general if he wanted to win the prize money. A growl alerted Kosuke that the bandit had not yet finished. With a whirl and flash of steel, the bandit's head soared over the onlookers, even as he poised a dagger at Kosuke's back. A heavy thump sounded as the body knelt, then collapsed. Wiping his blade on his arm, a small flash of satisfaction passed Kosuke's face. He walked back to his wall as he sheathed his sword again, heart pumping with adrenaline.

Dɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ◆ #3E044A ❘ Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ◇ #DDA0DD

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