Okinawa

Fuwakawa Kenji, aged 18 years estimated and well known for having surpassed the Kyokushin and Wing Chun Clubs, and defeated most of the strongest swordsmen in his original area of conquest. He does not view himself as a delinquent, and hardly a Bancho, often disliking the word and its use on him. He was an accomplished martial artist, a person to keep up his grades, and very kind, unlike the label of yanki given to most. A Saint among sinners, Kenji could never bring himself to do what he had seen numerous other lower fellows had done, abusing power and using it against people for fun. Those same people he'd vowed to destroy. And he did just that. He'd already brought down two entire Delinquent Unions, presumably by himself.

-

The ferry had arrived in the guaranteed 44 hours time, in which, he spent mostly meditating and fasting, even abandoning his coat, putting on a couple weighted items (Ex. wristbands, anklebands, etc), even going as far to be suspended underwater by the boat anchor. His desire to train was just too powerful, and he felt his techniques were unrefined…

But, then he had a bit of assurance…

-

At some point, while practicing movements for his sword, it appeared a large fish would jump out of the water at a certain precise moment and height. It also seemed to be taunting him whenever it looked his way, (when he was watching from the front deck, the bloody thing would be smiling and doing tricks for the tourists that were also riding.) So, with much calculation, and careful counting, he devised a means of taking the fish out, and getting some seafood for dinner for his first night in Okinawa. At first, he meditated. Waited. Recited his technique…

-

And then the fish was flopping around, making that supernatural laughing sound. Kenji's eyes flashed open, and he leaped up, kicking himself off the ship, and flying towards the edge of the ship, unsheathing his sword, as he was just inches from the safety railing, which he'd kick with his feet to keep himself on the boat, and as not to fly off.

-

Shushinkyaku (Step Kick Lunge)

-

The Fish had actually now came flying towards Kenji, laughing, and trying to disturb his footwork. With an unwavering look on his face, he flicked his wrist, and his sword disappeared, reappearing inches from the sea creature, which was cleanly split into two.

-

Saishouha (Flying Cyclone Blade)

-

Kenji used another Shushinkyaku, and backflipped his way back to his original area of meditation, his blade returning with the two halves of the fish in tow, pulling some stuff from his coat, and proceeding to pack the fish for later…

"This ought to give me fair amounts of protein. Then again, I could sell it for money and attend a much nicer restaurant…"

"You're on in five minutes, sir."

Dominic looked up from his desk at the man who was peeking around his office door and nodded.

"Cheers, mate. I'll be on my way now," he replied, getting up from the chair and making his way towards the broadcasting room. A smile gradually spread across Dom's face, culminating in a grin by the time he reached the broadcasting room. Oh, how he loved this time of day, giving out information regarding the current movements of some of the larger gangs. Of course, the radio station nearly always had someone on air to spread such news. Dom's shifts were just lunchtimes on weekdays, as per the rota the crew had agreed upon.

And now, sitting in the broadcasting room, he patiently waited for the last few seconds before going on air. Three... Two... One...

"Good afternoon, Okinawa," Dominic said in the usual conversational tone he used to address the masses. "This is Radio Okinawa with me, Dominic Trent, current leader of the broadcasting team. We work round the clock to keep you updated on the goings-on in the city. Now without further ado, here's the news:

"The bishie warband commonly known as the Dark Crusaders has recently captured the central shopping mall to resupply and angst over their allegedly dark and troubled pasts before moving on. I would advise against travelling there until further notice. Next, we have received reports that a few more people are coming into Okinawa. No, these aren't any delinquents or naive tourists; we're probably gonna be seeing a fully-fledged badass or two before long, although whether they're here to bring order or chaos is still uncertain. Here's hoping they're on our side.

"Lastly, one of our scout patrols have brought back news that some idiots are planning to attack the ol' shrine." Dom chuckled at the thought. "Well, it's their funeral. They'll get the same treatment as the last bunch who tried pulling a stunt like that. Will they ever learn? No idea, but we'll be right back after some music, so stay tuned, folks." Putting on some light jazz, he sat back in his chair. Dominic didn't mention that he himself was the scout that went by the shrine. Why? Well, simply put, he liked it there even before the first of the delinquents showed up. Even when he stumbled upon it through getting hopelessly lost trying to find his apartment when he first arrived at Okinawa. Damn good times, for certain, and now it was one of the last bastions of order left on the city map, just like the radio station.

"Okinawa you treat me so so well."

A candied voice muffled by it's placement in the sand rang out happily.

Amaya hadn't had any violence commissions today, but had an abundance of cash from her last one. As such, she was indulging in a lazy day. She had already been out shopping, picking up some new bikinis and lingerie. The most amusing part of the trip had actually been seeing the mall's new management. The Dark Crusaders were nice to look at at least. Made up for their lack of ferocity. And they had earned a positive spot in her book for letting her by with her purchases without too much trouble.

Currently clothed in one of her new purchases (the bikini, NOT the bra), Amaya was continuing her leisure. Baking in the abundant sun was definitely one of life's best and simple pleasures.

She gazed dreamily at the turquoise waters stretched out below her. They mirrored the hue of her eyes today, it made her feel beautiful.

She closed the aformentioned and took a doze, only to be awoken by the rude chirp of her phone. A pout forming on her lips, Amaya searched for the device with her hand not her eyes. It was found amongst the other contents of her cluttered beach bag. 1 text from a contact labeled "big stupid yanki guy 2".

"Hey sweety. We're staging an attack on the shrine later. We could use your assistance. I've got ¥15,000 for you and a dinner at the new resturant that opened up for ya if you come."

She scrunched her thin brows and typed a quick reply.

"Hmmm todays kinda my day off (＞人＜;)
Ill think about it kk?
-Amaya (^_−)−☆"

Her reply sent, her face went back into the sand.

To relax or to kick some ass?

Ugh, such a hard decision...

Step, step, turn, step, lunge, strike. "Kyah!" Hoshiko's light, airy voice rang out, echoing in the afternoon air.

A zephyr blew in from the coast, stirring the loose ends of her braid and easing the summer burn that reddened her fair cheeks. Ignoring the static buzz of the radio just inside near the sliding door, she rotated the staff, facing the tip toward the ground, and shifted fluidly into her next stance. Her movement was as graceful as a dancer's.

Step, lunge, step, step, twist, strike. "Kyah!" she yelled again, as much force in her tone as in her powerful downswing.

"...Good afternoon Okinawa... idiots planning attack... shrine..." the radio buzzed from behind the Shōji screen. but the words were lost to her as soon as they reached her ears.

She barely noticed the door slide open, her attention completely focused on each breath, every position she'd memorized. Lunge, step, step, turn, step-

"Hoshi-chan!" her grandfather's gravelly voice interrupted her thought-process.

Hoshiko froze in transition, not moving a muscle, except for the rise and fall of her chest, the only sounds that of the billowy white and red sleeves of her Miko uniform in the wind, and the inhalation through her nose. Never let the enemy see your weakness.

"Hoshi-chan!" he called again, stepping outside.

She merely lifted an eyebrow, the accentuation of that high arch the only indication she heard him.

"Hoshi-chan, they are planning another attack on the shrine!"

Wordlessly, at first, she twisted, tendrils of her black hair whirling round as she thrust the staff forward and shouted, "Kyah!"

"Hoshi?" he asked when she'd lowered her weapon.

"Yes, Obaa-san," she said, expressionless, no inflection in her response.

"Did you hear-"

"Yes, I heard."

"Those ruffians never learn," he grumbled, crossing the soft, wet grass to the center of the backyard where she stood. "What are you going to do?"

Lifting the staff again, she slid it with the slightest flick of a wrist into a red and gold fringed sheath slung across her back, and glanced back at her grandfather as she stepped into the shrine. "That, Obaa-san, is a question you should be asking them."

Shrines were apart of Kenji's style, believe it or not: Although his appearances to them were rare, he did respect the innumerable forces of the universe of varying religions, but not to the degree he feared and depended completely on them. If this was the Kenji of today, then he would have been far weaker, lazier in training, expecting the gods above to determine his new technique. The Radio Broadcast he overheard while getting his fish-halves cooked was interesting: someone, somewhere, had been watching him, reporting that a 'badass' or two had appeared- (Wait, other badasses?…Could this be used for later plot convenience?!). But he'd handle that later. As it turned out, one of his more disliked enemies, the bishonen, had conquered the central shopping mall. That was actually moved to priority 1 1/2 rather than the absolute first, because some idiotic Yanki decided the Shrine was a prime place to hit up.

Well, Not as long as this swordsman has a say in the matter. As soon as the Ferry stopped, Fuwakawa was already using a dozen Shushinkyaku to get himself to the shrine as quickly as he could, zipping across buildings, and appearing as a blur to the naked eye. He attempted to try and find the way towards the shrine slated for an assault, having to stop every now and then to check maps, and ask for directions.

-

Eventually, luck was on Kenji's side, and he was given some information, by a seemingly stray dog of all things. At first it barked, but with a sniff, and some kindness on Kenji's part, handing the dog a piece of beef jerky he had with him, and patting it on the head. From there, Kenji's aura did the rest, the illumination of a hope inspiring glow colored dark blue. The first means he'd learned to manifest his ki. From there, he lowered his spirit, and found his way in, keeping his sword sheathed at his waist rather than his back, which he especially set that way for such major trips as this. As he entered the domain of the gods, he began to relax his body, putting his hands together as if in prayer, and closing his eyes, as he walked forward…

…And then he raised his leg high…


…and dropped the heel of his foot on a nearby bush.

"HURK!"

And out the bush fell a delinquent armed with a lead pipe…

…And Kenji continued his walk, now opening his eyes. He simply needed to focus to find the fellow who had been prepared to attack. Funny though, he mentioned something about a maiden, and her 'sweet ass.' Whatever he was talking about was of little concern.

"Hello?" Called out Kenji. "I've found a sinner in your house of saints…you may want to keep an eye out for others."

He would hear the soft rustle of fabric as the shrine maiden stepped out of the candle and paper-lantern lit gloom. Casting dark eyes over the boy who entered the temple, she stopped just a few feet from him. He could see the white socks almost hidden beneath her red hakama, divided by the wood sandals she wore. She glanced to either side and bowed in greeting, folding both hands covered by fingerless gloves with flawless stitching, loose ends of black hair cascading around her, revealing the outline of a red and gold sheath at her back and the shape of a slender staff.

"Konnichiwa. Can I help you?" she asked, her tone polite, but cold, and though she held his gaze, it was clear by the way she did not further approach she remained wary of the newcomer.

"Fuwakawa, Kenji."

That was the simple introduction of the mysterious swordsman, who removed his weapon from his belt, and had set it down, kicking it away incase anyone in the area could tell he had it on him. He studied the appearance of the shrine maiden, noting her appearance over her staff (And its considerable size) as well as her socks. In his own, unsaid opinion, Kenji considered this to be a fine young lady. Her aura, at least at the moment, while not in combat, felt calm, and reserved. It put him at ease, as he began to speak about his new temporary objective to provide support to the girl's shrine.

"I was in the area for personal business when I heard some fools under the title of 'Yanki' attempted to vandalize this sacred place. I am bound by…certain beliefs to assist if possible, our enemy being one and the same. They know me by a couple names, most notably the solo banchou. Rest assured though, I have no intentions of bringing harm to anyone but the terrorizing scum who prey on the innocent. I shall leave if you do not desire the help of a man labeled 'delinquent.' I can say though, I'm far from such a title, and the work I have done with my fists has proven to speak louder than my words."

Kenji slipped his hands into his pockets, relaxing himself slightly. Behind him, he could feel the presence of the Gaijin Weirdo American having walked in on the two. Kenji yawned a bit, before ruffling his hair a little…

"I'd rather not ask your business…but better yet, its' nature, foreigner: do you wish to do anything malevolent to this shrine?"

"Titles bear no meaning to me, and if the Yanki have a palate for yet another taste of their own blood, I will oblige to assist them," she replied, simply, as though she planned to serve tea to dinner guests. "And, I will make no move to stand in your way as long as your intentions are honorable."

Her gaze shifted slightly from the boy who had introduced himself as 'Kenji', to the lighter-skinned, clearly American, his indistinguishable features denoting the mixed blood of generations of interbreeding.

"Yuu Hoshiko," she offered another light bow to each of them, her staff, at a diagonal across her back, tilting with the lean of her body.

The Yuu surname wasn't common knowledge in Okinawa, but the family ties to the family line of Mikos and Shinto warrior ancestry was no large secret, either.

Hoshiko, still keeping a wary eye, alert to her surroundings, said, "There is change on the wind. I felt it arrive with the dawn, even as I awoke. Omoikane has led you both here for a reason."

...

Through the partially open Shōji screen, they could see an elderly man outside, diminutive in stature, his shoulder-length white hair pulled up high, squinting in the afternoon sun as he trimmed hedges with a pair of gardening shears.

"Aaaaaand we're back," Dom said once the small ad break was over. "Here's what's left of the news."

"Today's actually been pretty quiet today, hasn't it? Maybe the bulk of those delinquents are taking a break or something, I dunno. There's really nothing much else for me to report right now..."

Dominic's mind suddenly went back to the attack on the shrine. Of course! Any heroes fresh off the boat were certain to get there and act all... um... heroic and such. And if he hurried, then not only would he be able to help out, but he'd also get a chance to interview them! Now that would definitely make the news!

"...so without further ado, we must part ways for now, Okinawa. I leave you with these words: 'All great things are simple, and many can be expressed in single words: freedom, justice, honor, duty, mercy, hope.' This is Dominic Trent signing off. Have a good day, ladies and gents." And with that, he cued another ad-and-music break so the next shift could take over. It didn't take long for him to collect his staff and a pencil and notepad, and in the interest of getting there in time he ran the whole way to the shrine. Although Dom did arrive well before the attack started, he was gasping for breath as he came to a stop. Looking up, he saw a couple of people, Hoshiko included.

"Hi... there," he panted. "Thought I'd... drop by and... help you guys out." After regaining his breath, Dominic stood up properly and nodded to the shrine maiden. "Lucky thing I made it in time, huh?" He smiled and offered a hand to the swordsman standing next to the girl. "The name's Dom. I don't believe we've met before, stranger. I'm guessing you're new here, right?"

Two Americans. And they weren't just tourists apparently, they seemed to be able to fight! Kenji simply stared at Dominic a moment, just giving a light nod, and keeping his hands in his pockets, not really the type to just shake someone's hand and get so friendly so fast. All he knew of them at the moment were their names, and that only went so far with Mr. Fuwakawa and his blade. He looked around at the others, including Hoshiko, and noting her grandfather, who was a fair distance away, and armed. Again, Hoshiko seemed to catch his eyes. He'd have to look at her a little less.

"Very Well: We Four shall stand together for now. First person to betray this new, temporary truce will end up in the hospital for three months at minimum. A year if I'm angry."

Kenji turned towards the entrance, and took a moment to inspect it, attempting to determine the best plan of action…

"You."

The Wanderer gestured to Dominic.

"Do you have any martial arts training, or some ability that seems useful enough? I need someone to hide nearby while I stand in the open as bait, and first defense. I'll also accept Hoshiko or the other fellow, but I'd rather those two stay back and guard this area ahead. Are you up to it?"

Hoshiko only nodded lightly in response to Dominic's remark.

If the shrine maiden noticed Kenji staring, she gave no hint. Her left hand was already closing around her staff though she made no move to draw it, yet. Whatever happened, if they so much as nicked one of the antique statues or injured one of the many flowers she had raised from seedlings, she just might second the swordsman's notion.

Outwardly, she offered the same gesture to Kenji, already taking up a defensive stance, briefly closing her eyes. She knew the layout better than the back of her hand, and even as she motioned with her right hand, slender digit poking through a finger hole in her glove, she was drawing from memory every vulnerable area in the temple blocked from their immediate view.

"They can flank us from the east and west, but if they leave a gap in their defense, we may have an advantage from there." she pointed toward the small koi pond. "They sometimes arrive in numbers, but their attacks are predictable."

...

Hoshi's grandfather stopped trimming long enough to look up and see what was going on inside. He shrugged and clipped another branch, continuing with his task.

The calm before the storm, as the cliche goes, was coming to it's conclusion.

A group of twenty or so was defined by the dangling afternoon sun as they neared the shrine. The heat had starte to accumulate. With heat adding to the one that already resided ibn their veins, a spectacular battle was iminent. Armed with lean builds, perfectly silky gorgeous hair, and various weapons, most were male. However, some had brought arm candy along. They figured an easy victory was impnding and wanted to show off their skills/masculinity to impress their mates. Well, as much masculiinty as a bishounen could have...

The leader juxtaposed his underlings with a decent amount of muscle. True, his features were skill feminine, but he looked as if he could offer more of a fight. They trailed a few steps behind him in some semblance of hierarchy. When they reached the torii leading to the shrine, they stopped. Upon an initial survey, no one was found by any of them. The leader took a few steps forward to announce their presence.

"Alright, to whoever is here, I'm warning you, get out now so we don't have to kick your asses before aking your property. My name is Akira Suzuki, Golden Boy and I'm here to acquire some new turf," he called, placing a cockily hand upon his hip.

His underlings, smirks on every last pair of seductive lips, began forming into an attack postion. Weapons and minds ready, they took stance still behind their leader.

Hopefully this swordsman's apparently fiery temper would be quenched somewhat after the imminent battle. Asides from this, he would certainly prove to be a useful ally, Dominic thought. The swordsman then proceeded to ask the radio presenter what he could contribute to the war effort although he could've asked a bit more politely. "D'you really think I'd be carrying this staff around if I didn't know how to use it? Anyway, I've picked up a few things from watching the locals fighting each other, and I've managed to mimic some of their magic. My colleagues say it's something to do with air pressure, I dunno. I'm just focusing on getting good at it." Dominic decided to omit the somewhat unpredictable nature that his "magic" had. There was always time for explanations later, when they weren't about to get attacked.

Hoshiko wasted no time in laying out a plan for defending the shrine. Naturally, Dominic was quick to agree with her. However, any comment that he had been about to make was abruptly cut off by the sound of death threats being carried on the wind. The enemy was here at last.

"Alright, sword guy, you take point. I'll cover you and provide fire support as and when needed. Hoshiko, other guy, you... um..." Dom's tone of voice had been notably crisp and clear, right up until the point when giving the others a task, when he faltered a little. "I'll just let you decide, if that's fine with you," he said to the shrine maiden before following the swordsman.

Woah. Bishies. And quite a few of them, actually. These weren't any Dark Crusaders he knew of; they were obviously a new bunch. As if their eagerness to attack the shrine wasn't a good enough clue in the first place, right? In any case, a retort was called for.

"I'd suggest that you consider eating your words. You never know; they might actually be good for you," he said affably.

Kenji could only raise a brow at 'magic.' Sounded like the usual foolishness of a foreigner. Especially after he mentioned the words 'Air Pressure,' he could already tell it was a method of combat of some schools of kenpo. He untied his weapon and threw it to the side, following through and moving ahead with Dominic to meet with the invaders. And as if to make things simply perfect, it had to be some more bishonen. Now his blood was boiling. His pocketed hands were clenched, his feet taking hard stomps as he stepped, though he didn't notice, keeping his walking normal.

"...Don't you young ladies have a crossdressing convention or something?" Taunted Kenji calmly, awaiting the answer of the pretty boys while he let out a series of loud 'CRRRACKS!!', knuckles prepared to start laying the smack down on some helpless goons. Heck, they were probably far more helpless than they appeared, seeing as the majority of bishie gangs tended to be at the lowest part of the hierarchy of things, and it would have had to have been pure luck for them to gain any power whatsoever…

"…Well?" Spoke Kenji again. "Shall I break your faces? Or would you like to take the high road and apologize to the owner of this shrine?"

"What For?!" Barked a blushing bishie. "No Seriously. And even then, we have to-"

"For your blood, nothing special."

"Wut-"

And Kenji's fist waisted no time with a right handed chambered punch to the chest.

Those fingers closed around the staff, and Hoshiko brought the weapon overhead into her left hand, taking up a defensive stance with both feet planted and her staff at a middle guard. She met the first Bishounen who advanced on the koi pond with a cold stare.

"Little girls shouldn't play with sticks," he said, briefly eying her staff, and canted his head toward the floor. "Drop it. You might hurt someone with that."

"Only you, coward," Hoshiko answered, raising her weapon.

The Bishie openly rushed her, and she feigned a strike which, when he tried to dodge. She whirled away from him, letting his forward momentum propel him into the pond with a loud splash. Struggling to get up, the bishie spouted off obscenities that would have made any sailor blush. His face and hair were soaking wet, and the colorful goldfish that had swam away now returned to investigate.