Hey there, all! This is your hot-blooded teen heroine, Himeno Midori! I
gotta say; I'm so excited about this new slot for myself. Who could
believe it? A Passionate Midori OVA! Imagine all the amazing fights I'll
get into! Oh, it just gets me so charged, thinking about battling strong
opponents! It might be a tough ride but you guys will be there with me
to the end, right?! Right!? I thought so! So lets DO this! The first
episode of the Passionate Midori OVA is Pursuit and Preparation:
Midori's Commitment! I can't wait to see what'll happen!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Pursuit and Preparation: Midori's Commitment
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Himeno Family Training Grounds, Tokyo, Japan
This was it.
The final hurdle of Midori's training for the Keisho Ritual It had taken
a lot of work to get this far. But this was the last she had to do. To
become the true successor of the Fuin Style after her father; Midori had
to take part in the Keisho Ritual. It would happen soon; maybe in a few
weeks time. And before it came she had to fulfil the one requirement
that the Ritual demanded most. The creation of the individual's own
technique. In such efforts; Midori had been largely successful. Her
Father before her; Himeno Sougetsu, had created the brutal Togetsu
attack, all to succeed his own father as the successor of the Fuin
Ancient Martial Arts style. Now it was Midori's turn. In her zeal she
had invented her own art in less than a month, but mastery of it was
taking far longer. For the past three months straight she had been
honing her skills in order to fully master this ability. Now she just
had to finish perfecting it. Then she would be fully ready for the
Keisho Ritual. It was coming down to this.
The fiery young martial artist stood poised in the large echoing hall of
the Himeno Training Grounds. With her legs spread apart, red trainers
fixed into the ground, Midori focused both her energies and attentions
on the small training dummy that had been posted a good ten or eleven
meters ahead of her. One of her muscular-lithe arms was held behind her
back, palm open, muscles tensing. Midori gave a small, aggressive yet
feminine growl. Then a small emerald green glow began to gather at the
centre of her opened palm. Small beads of sweat trickled down the light
cinnamon tone of her face from the stress of this energy gathering
process. But her work was paying off as the bright jade glow grew and
grew in strength. Before long that light began to take shape above her
hand. This green light forged itself into the contours of a disc, both
volatile and yet in some ways, completely controlled. This light disc
grew in brightness and size until it reached its peak; leaving a thick
glow of green upon the torso of the Himeno-girl. It was ready to be
thrown. But was Midori ready? It was time to find out.
"Here goes!" The teen spoke with passion, "Fuin Gensui!"
Midori threw her arm over her shoulder and jerked her whole body
forwards in stride. The dazzling energy disc at her hand, the Fuin
Gensui, was shot straight from her and sent zooming across the slight
space between herself and the training dummy. That vivid glow followed
it along with its splash upon the floorboards. And in no time at all the
dummy ahead was struck by the blast. Midori squinted softly as the blast
burst into flames around the now battered training article. With her
body still poised and her muscles still a little sore from all the
training it took to do this, Midori pulled a small, tired smile.
She took a strong breath, her shoulders rising and falling with the
intake of that much needed oxygen. "I... did it. I developed and
mastered my own technique, the Fuin Gensui. Now I'm finally ready for
the Keisho Ritual... at last..."
The cracking of the bright fire in that training hall was all that could
be heard after Midori spoke those words. But not for long. Soon that
crackling was joined by the sounds of large sandals clicking against the
floorboards of the dojo. Midori quickly looked over her shoulder to the
imposing figure that stood across the way. From the east door of the
hall walked the very master of the Fuin style. Himeno Sougetsu. The
haughty master of martial arts, complete with gruff black moustache and
a calculatingly intimidating temperament, strode towards his daughter;
his attention on the humanoid dummy which was now bathed in emerald
flame.
Sougetsu stopped in action. "Interesting. Is this the technique you have
developed for the Keisho Ritual, Midori?"
"Oh yeah," The young woman gave a defiant smile, "it took me a while but
I finally created my own technique! Just like the Fuin masters of old!"
"Whilst wearing yourself into submission in the process?" The older man
retorted.
Something that Midori didn't bank on. She would have assumed that he
would be impressed by that. After all, it was one of the biggest
achievements of her life. The creation of her own skill which would
eventually be added to the Fuin Style and mark her in it forever. An
irritated expression crossed Midori's energetic face, eyes narrowing,
brow furrowing.
"If I'm pushing myself hard," She began, "it's because I'm fully
dedicated to continuing the Fuin legacy! You gotta understand that,
right, Dad?"
Sougetsu crossed his arms slowly. "Dedication is respectable. Needlessly
tiring yourself for the sake of it... is not. How many times have I told
you of the tale of the legendary katana?"
Midori's shoulders sagged, as she released a perturbed breath. "...Oh
man, not that old story again. Look, I get it, Dad. A young samurai
trained for years and years to become the greatest soldier of his lord.
But in honing his skills to the sharpest edge; he wore out the blade of
his katana and was unable to fulfil his duties in battle. Blah, blah,
blah..."
"Stop making light of the situation, Midori," Sougetsu proclaimed
defiantly, "to be the true successor to the Fuin Style of Ancient
Martial Arts, you must understand that strength comes from more than
just backbreaking labour. True strength comes from clarity of thought
and the inherent perception of self. To understand both yourself and
your own limitations is the real key to mastering the Fuin Style. You
must learn this well. There is more to our fighting art than your
penchant for violence and self-slavery is willing to admit."
Midori just shook her head. "Geez, enough of the sermonizing, Dad. I get
it, already. You want me to ease up? Then I'll ease up, okay? Now may I
be excused? By now, Setsuna's probably waiting for me."
Sougetsu sighed in defeat. He highly doubted that Midori had accepted or
even understood the seriousness of the situation. There was only so much
weight that a person could put on their shoulders until they began to
buckle under that weight. And at the rate she was currently heading at,
Midori would probably fold in before she grew old enough to express her
full potential in the Fuin Style. But rather than dwell on this issue,
he simply gave his daughter an answer.
"You may go," He offered quietly.
Midori winked to her Father with a thumbs up and began running for the
open door on the west side of the Himeno Training Hall. "Thanks, Pop!
Don't wait up for me!"
As the young woman dashed through the far door and exited that
particular hall of the dojo, Sougetsu heaved another sigh. That daughter
of his was far too driven. And completely un-ladylike. Perhaps that was
the real reason she was such a staggeringly talented martial artist.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mikamuro College, Tokyo, Japan
It was your typical Japanese prep school. Mikamuro College did not stand
out from that crowd. Not in the least. The 20th Century western design
of Mikamuro meshed with the beautifully haunting outlay of frontal
gardens; festooned with cherry-blossom trees and freshly trimmed grass.
Still affecting the air with its brusque fresh smell. Young men and
women buzzed around the school with both passion and indifference. Some
were pleased for their opportunity to attend such a prestigious (yet
duly expensive) school. And responded to this gift by working as hard as
she possibly could. Others were relatively unaffected by that notion.
They took the same attitude that most young adults take about school the
world over.
Just a little annoyance.
But that was the way most people, students and teachers alike, saw
things at some point. And it was the last day of the week. Friday. And
those that had an apathy for their school were accordingly excited for
the approach of the weekend. The final bell had rung. Now the young
pupils all poured out from many buildings of the school in their
hundreds, walking out into the street, surrounded by the chatter and
laughter of their friends and peers. One girl did not join them. Some
students passed her by and offered for her to join them for some fun
(mostly male, if such details needed to be mentioned) but she refused
all advances and waited. With her book bag poised at her waist, and an
expectant glance that peered from one side of the school crowds to the
other. This girl stood at the black gates of Mikamuro College itself;
her long locks of jet black hair wafting around her head, shoulders and
waist with all the shifting allure of the sea.
This young woman's name was Saizuki Setsuna.
The beautiful teen swept a strand of her 'platinum' black hair from her
line of view and looked back out into the street as her contemporaries
left the school grounds around her. For once, Midori was actually late.
The martial artist had a free period on the last lesson of Friday. So
like usual Midori spent that time doing what she did best. Training.
Before she left however; Setsuna and Midori had agreed to meet with each
other after Setsuna's last lesson was over. The time had come and Midori
wasn't here yet. Normally Setsuna would have gotten worried. Midori was
not the type who came to a meeting point late. But Setsuna knew exactly
what made her headstrong childhood friend so late. That training agenda
she had going on. For Midori; fighting and training was a passion. A
personal obsession that everyone has but not everyone expresses. In its
own way it was respectable. And in others it was largely worrying.
Midori's preparation to become successor of the Fuin Style was taking
its toll on her. In both body and time-keeping skills. How many times
had Setsuna found herself thinking about this?
The dark-haired girl looked downwards at her wrist, and at the watch
that she had strapped around it this morning. Ironically; a gift from
Midori. "...I hope she finishes her training soon. I don't want to wait
around here forever."
Once those brief words escaped her lips, a second voice could be heard.
No image appeared with this voice, though it carried a willowy and
childish tone to it. This voice rang in the ears of Setsuna and Setsuna
alone; masked to any surrounding party whom might have happened to grasp
upon the sweet sound of it.
{Give her time, Setsuna. I'm sure Midori has thought the exact same
thing every time you were late to meet with her, right?}
Though Setsuna didn't like to do it in public (because it might have
looked like she was talking to herself and that was the proverbial first
sign of madness) Setsuna offered a reply to that chilling, soft,
inviting voice, muttering under her breath.
"You always know what to say, Karin," The girl whispered, "I just don't
want her to be late now. We agreed to go to that new arcade in Shinjuku
after this. The longer we take, the bigger the crowds will be. And I've
never liked hanging around big crowds."
{You needn't tell me that. I understand,} Karin replied, calmly,
internally, {We don't share any secrets from each other, remember?}
Setsuna shook her head. "Of course not. But-"
Then the girl stopped herself abruptly as a figure was soon seen to be
dashing towards her from down the length of the road, winding squarely
around the gates of Mikamuro College. Setsuna's smile brightened as she
saw Midori encroaching on her. So she finally made it. The powerhouse
female of the Himeno Family skidded to a stop on the heels of her
trainers, her bland white headband whipping around her mop of wild,
spiky red hair.
"Hey, Yuki!" Midori yelled upon approach, catching her breath, "...Sorry
I'm late... this really is... a switch for us, isn't it?"
Setsuna's smiled faded into a frown as Midori pressed her hands into her
knees, taking in breath. "...You didn't run all the way here from your
home, did you?"
Midori's head jolted upright, locking eyes with her 'Yuki'. "Well, of
course I did! Running is the easiest and simplest form of workout. You
get to stretch your legs and you get to go to places, right?"
Setsuna's frown grew softer as she held her book bag. "...That ritual
thing is very important to you, isn't it?"
"It's called the Keisho Ritual," After finally regaining her breath,
Midori stood upright, "And I've been waiting for this for such a long
time. But now it's here, I ain't gonna waste any of my time. I've
perfected my own technique and I'm ready to be acknowledged! I'm gonna
be the successor of Fuin Style! And I'd be more pleased about that if
not for my nagging Father."
Setsuna blinked. "Mr. Himeno? What did he say this time?"
"Some crap about overworking myself," Midori spouted, crossing her arms,
"I swear, that man has absolutely no respect for me."
The Guardian Angel let her lips curl into a small, probing, hopeful
smile. "...You know that I don't like saying it... but maybe he has a
point."
"Huh?" Midori's right eyebrow rose in attention, all her focus now on
the shorter college girl and not her own breathing, "what's that
supposed to mean?"
Setsuna's smile carried along with her as she turned her back to Midori
and began walking forwards. Down that route was the nearest bus stop.
One that would take a group of people to the Shinjuku district. As
Setsuna silently did this, a puzzled look crossed Midori's face. What
was up with that? Being the penetrating tomboy that she was, Midori
couldn't let that question rest. She ran ahead, moving astride the
dark-haired beauty.
"What the heck are you talking about, Setsuna?" She barked, curious.
The Saizuki girl's knowing smile still lingered. "You're not a machine,
Midori. You're human. You can only push yourself a certain amount before
you break something. Then where would you be? And it might sound silly,
but... I wouldn't like anything like that to happen."
Coming from her Father; a call for moderation sounded like a vain
lecture. Coming from Setsuna; it sounded as if no truer words could ever
be spoken. Midori froze herself in point and softened all at once.
Absorbing her Yuki's comments. There was nothing she could deny this
girl. And there was nothing she would want to. It made Midori
ingenuously aware of the reasons why. Of course, she had been struggling
with that for most of her life... The young woman of the Himeno Family
let her eyes thin out; whilst carrying the faintest hint of a blush.
"Ah, Yuki..." She started, "...If it means that much to you... then, I
really will cool off on the training."
Something that Setsuna was glad for. She then cast the slightly taller
girl another of those warm, heart-melting smiles, right before
answering, "I'm glad."
Somewhere in Midori's head, there was a voice telling her to edge off
from this subject before it led to something she might not want to
confront. So she followed suit, joining her hands together at the back
of her head and continuing the walk forwards. "So, ah... you wanted to
hit that new arcade up in Shinjuku, right?"
"Yeah," The Mikamuro student responded, "Some of my friends told me that
the place is full of great games and stalls and stuff. It just opened
about a week ago and I've been dying to check it out. You don't mind, do
you?"
Midori shrugged (as best she could with her hands behind her head). "Why
would I mind? I'm up for it as much as the next gal. But I can't stay
long though."
"Why not?"
"History Report," Claimed the taller, fiery girl, "I've been putting it
off for ages because of my training schedule for the Keisho Ritual. But
I guess it can't be put off anymore. It counts for like a third of my
History grade. And I can't flunk that; otherwise..."
Setsuna scowled at her friend. "...Don't tell me you left something that
important to the last minute?"
And to that, Midori released a guilty smile. "Um... kinda?"
Now a frustrated expression overtook Setsuna's face. Leave it to Midori
to ignore all the important schoolwork until the last instance. But she
couldn't be allowed to flunk out now. Mikamuro College was very
expensive and she had only been able to afford it because of the money
that the Himeno Family earned by tutoring people in the Fuin Style of
Martial Arts. Going there was a brilliant opportunity that most people
would scarcely see. But, (bless her heart) Midori was no genius. Thus,
in all consideration, she did rather well to make it as far as she had
done. Dropping out now would be a complete waste of time and effort.
Setsuna held her hand to her face, perturbed. "...I guess we'll have to
pull an all-nighter."
"What?"
"Well, you can't put it off any longer," Setsuna said sharply, "And you
can't do it on your own. You hate History and you've never had a passion
for schoolwork as long as I've known you. So you'll have to come around
to my dorm later on and we'll work on it together. That way we'll have
it done twice as fast."
Midori blinked from the sudden, unchallenged stream of orders. "Uh...
are you sure?"
Setsuna gave Midori another chiding frown. "I don't think either of us
have much choice, do we? Just don't expect me to-"
Though she couldn't quite place it, Midori's grew a brief concern as
Setsuna's face suddenly twisted with concern and alarm. It was a sudden
action. Completely out of joint with the conversation and tone of it in
kind. Setsuna blinked for a second with mistrusting eyes, and glanced
around for a moment.
Midori was puzzled, so followed the action. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"N-Nothing..." Of course, Setsuna's face didn't say that, "Nothing.
Everything's fine."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Oh man, can you believe that? First, my Pops starts giving me grief
about training so hard, I have this killer History assignment to do, and
now Setsuna starts acting weird? What's up with that? Well, all
questions will be answered on the next episode of the Passionate Midori
OVA! Men and Miasma: Midori's Challenge! Hope to see you there!
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