Setsuya vs. Aarin (Part 1) ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Setsuya's Room, Neuschwanstein Castle, Island of Creation The day of the Semi Finals had gone by smoothly enough. The results were known to all who had come to the island; regardless of where they got to during the matches of Ten Sekai Sentou Kyousou. Aarin had defeated Ingrid (much to Setsuya's pleasure) and Ra El Khahid was beaten by Setsuya. This pitted Aarin and Setsuya against each other directly in the finals of the tournament. The whole tournament was coming down to this match. But both Setsuya and Aarin had agreed that there were more important things going on for them to worry about. The Shougatsu Financial Group's true aims were one of them. The other being the safety of Lin-Lin. Setsuya was sure that she was here; but he had no idea about how these guys might be treating her. Such thoughts made his blood boil. But for now he had to keep those urges bottled up. Until he rescued Lin-Lin, he had to play it carefully. After all, there was still no complete guarantee that she was here. Setsuya took a deep breath and flopped onto the bed of his room. He had taken off his clothes (leaving behind only the boxers he was wearing) and had given his gear to one of the maids at hand nearby. They did their jobs well and told Setsuya that his clothes would be washed and dried; ready for tomorrow's match. People that worked for the Shougatsu outside of their dirty dealings tended to be normal folk. Setsuya was happy that not all of the corporation were devious. At the moment he thought of this; Setsuya clutched his face. A stinging pain throbbed at his cheek. All thanks to that bloody Hundred Staff move of Ra El Khahid's. The Japanese boy had applied some disinfectant and cleaned up his cuts. Most of them. He had put three plasters over his face too. One on his right cheek, one over the bridge of his nose, and the other patching up the gash on his forehead. The rest of his body was a bit bruised but nothing serious. Thankfully. That didn't mean that his current gashes didn't sting from the liquid disinfectant. Who would have thought that fighting some guy with a staff would have been so much trouble? That was over now though. Time to look ahead of him and think of the future. The future was... Aarin. Setsuya took his hand off his face and thought of it. The Finals of the tournament would be taking place tomorrow morning. Him versus Aarin. Normally there would have been far more anticipation on Setsuya's part in all this. But this really wasn't the time for a battle between the two of them. Not only was Setsuya a bit bruised up, he wasn't focused on the match. All he could really think of was Lin-Lin and how she was doing. Was she safe? Was she being battered around? Was she even on the Island of Creation? With such thoughts spinning a mile a minute in the brain of the Seisuji-lad, what hope would he have of being able to focus on the match between himself and Aarin? "If only this fight were under different circumstances," Setsuya offered, "Then nothing could stop me from concentrating on it. And Aarin... I wonder what he thinks about all this..." The two of them had a rivalry within a friendship. They were good friends but deep down had this urge to outdo the other when it came to swordsmanship. These feelings were at their peak during the Yuuga School days. Now it was more along the lines of 'living up to' their past rivalries and disputes. Maybe a fresh new match might finally prove which of them was the better fighter. Their skills were so equal that it was hard to tell a difference between them. While thinking of this, Setsuya cast a glimpse over at the other side of his bed. On it was the Fire Cutter, wrapped in the confinement of its scabbard. That sword of his would be going head to head with Aarin's Wind Soul in the morning. Then a knock came at the door. Followed by a voice. "Can I come in?" It called. "...Sure," Setsuya nodded, looking upwards, "It's open." The thick wooden door, framed with iron, parted with a creak. A woman stepped through the door to the inside of Setsuya's room. The Japanese boy looked upwards to see who it was. And he knew her. It was Chizuru Hukuta of the Water Magic Style. Obviously she had rested up well after her defeat because she looked great again. Setsuya smiled and rested his hands over his bare knees lazily. "Hey, Chizuru," He offered, "What can I do for you?" The older Japanese woman ran a hand through her hair. "It's more along the lines of what I can do to help you. I don't need the ship to get back to the mainland. My Water Magics can take me wherever I wish to go. So I plan on leaving as soon as the tournament is over." "So, did you come to say goodbye or something?" Setsuya knew he was spoken for but he couldn't help but flirt a little. Chizuru smiled at him. "Not really. The reason I came is because I trust you to bring these people down. Just as you promised. And to help you resolve your own issues, I want to give you this." The older woman placed her arm behind her back and withdrew something from the sash of her kimono. It was a roll of paper. She walked up to Setsuya and placed the roll of paper into the youth's hand. He looked up at her with a confused glare. "What the heck is this?" "It's a kind of map to the layout of Neuschwanstein Castle and the Complex," Chizuru ran one of her sleek hand through her ebony black hair, "You told me that you came here to rescue a girl that had been taken by the Shougatsu Financial Group. Well you can use that to track her down. She is likely to be held in the cells in the Castle but you should know that there are no guarantees. This is all I can do for you now, Setsuya." It was much more than what he would have expected from Chizuru. Especially after winning against her in the opening rounds of the tournament. Setsuya smiled at the older woman and clutched the map tightly. "Thanks, Chizuru. I won't forget this." Chizuru shook her head. "No need to thank me. Just make sure these Shougatsu dogs don't get to go ahead with their plans. The Neo-Japanese Government can't make a move against them without definite evidence. But I know that they have something dark planned. I'm counting on you to stop them." "Don't worry about it, Chizuru," He replied, "It's in my hands now." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Holy Basilica of the Fallen Ones, Island of Creation The Finals had arrived. Ten Sekai Sentou Kyousou was about to conclude. The final match was to be staged in a church that had been built at the same time as Neuschwanstein Castle had been. This place just happened to be called The Holy Basilica of the Fallen Ones. Like most places on the Island of Creation, it took its name for a reason. When wars or conflicts took place in the past, people would come here to worship and prey for those who had died. It had been built specifically for that reason and that reason alone. Until now, of course. Christianity was a dying religion since the landing of the Genesis Comet. Just like it was for Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Shintoism, etc. Religion itself had been thrown into weakness. For reasons not so unfair. The tragedy that befell the world was beyond belief. To call that chastisement for the sins of mankind sounded so heavy-handed in idea. So naturally those who took this as a theory were likely to put others off from religion. There was also the idea that people's lives were short these days. Nobody wanted to waste it by wallowing on their knees to gods that had 'attempted' to kill them. And because of this; the churches, temples and religious shrines like the Holy Basilica of the Fallen Ones had been taken up for different uses. Homes, storehouses, shops. They all had different uses. This one was being used for the final fight of the tournament. Between Setsuya and Aarin. The two fighters, both trained at the Yuuga School of Neo-Japan, stood apart from each other across the cleared pinewood floor of the Holy Basilica. The rows of seats, the altars, the decorated rugs and bible books had all been cleared out of the way for the fight. The only thing left about that church that made it maintain that aura of spirituality were the stained glass windows to the sides of the walls. They depicted images of great pioneers and prophets, knights and wise men. It made the location more haunting than it truly was. Setsuya and Aarin watched each other without saying a word. Setsuya had patched himself up well yesterday and Chizuru had been kind enough to heal his injuries with her magical powers. All that was left on Setsuya now was a bandage over the bridge of his nose. Now he was ready for this. Well, as much as he would ever be. Aarin ran a hand through his long blonde bangs and smiled as best as he could. A smile had never come naturally to him. "So here we are," Aarin said, slowly, "I could have guessed that we would have been the ones to face each other in the finals of the tournament. All great rivalries come full circle, do they not...?" "Maybe they do," Setsuya replied, "But we aren't kids anymore, man. Things have changed. The Master's gone, the Shougatsu are at large and these swords of ours seem to be taking a spotlight for their plans. It's time to see once and for all which of us it the better swordfighter. Me or You." Aarin bent at the knees, his hand hovering over the Wind Soul's hilt. "Agreed. We have to stop the Shougatsu. But since we are here in these circumstances, we might as well use them to settle our own issues. I want you to show me no quarter, Setsuya. Lets see just how much you learned in the past two years." Setsuya smiled confidently at his rival and bent at the knees, ready to draw Fire Cutter. A typical opening stance of the Japanese Yuuga style. The two fighter locked eyes once more and waited for the other to attack. Because of this they remained in their positions for over three minutes. There wasn't the tiniest flaw in the defence of either fighter. So it had to start off with a charge. The flash of alertness and intuition ran wild through both Setsuya and Aarin. Their boots began running forwards in parallel speeds. The two Yuuga Fighters began their charge, gripping the handles of their swords while sheathed. Not a condition that would remain for very long. Setsuya and Aarin reached striking distance of each other and drew their swords at lightning speeds. The sound of Fire Cutter's blade clashing with that of the Wind Soul echoed throughout the Holy Basilica. They ran past each other, exchanging their positions. They both skidded to a stop and then turned around to look at the other. The fabric of Aarin's black leather jacket parted at the left shoulder. And the fabric of Setsuya's brown Bomber jacket parted over the right shoulder. It was a tie. Setsuya grinned. "You're faster than you were before..." "...And you parry better than you once did," Aarin replied, "But I haven't even begun to fight. So get ready, Setsuya." It was time to fight with more than just brawn and weaponry. Time to fight with the mind. Aarin re-drew the Wind Soul from its temporary sleep and then cast his sky sapphire eyes upwards. To the rafters of the Holy Basilica. Aarin slashed through the air violently and that slash was aimed at the roof. Setsuya knew what that was. It was an Air Wave Stroke. The special technique that Aarin had designed for himself. Back in the Yuuga School days, one of the graduation tests were to invent your own sword skill. That had been Aarin's skill. To slash so hard and so swiftly that the wind resistance did the damage. Not the slash itself. So Setsuya followed the line of sight straight up to Aarin's supposed target. One of the beams up above that supported the roof of the Holy Basilica. The Air Wave Stroke cut through the wooden beam like it was nothing at all. The beam soon dislodged from its position up above and began plummeting towards the wooden floorboards beneath. It was falling in Setsuya's direction. The Japanese man blinked. Attacking with a piece of wood? Surely Aarin knew that wouldn't work on him? Setsuya left his hand poised on Fire Cutter until the sliced wooden beam came within reach of him. He soon withdrew the blade and swiftly cut through the falling line of wood, slicing it ruthlessly into two halves. Those two halves fell down to the ground, clattering with echoing noise. The Japanese man lowered the Fire Cutter and smirked. It would take a lot more than falling wood to bring him down. He turned to face his English rival. "No offence, but that was-" "Wind Cluster!" The marble black eyes of Setsuya Seisuji widened with panic as a twirling cyclone of compressed air travelled through the gap between the two fighters with enormous speed. It was too sudden to block. Far too sudden. Setsuya grit his teeth and covered his face as best he could from that position. His whole body was engorged with the great power of the Wind Cluster. It blew back his ponytail, his bangs, his bandana, his bomber jacket and made it hard to open his eyes. Nothing he could have done would have allowed him to stand his ground at that point. Setsuya scowled and cursed as he was thrown straight off his feet and blown right back across the oblong hall of the Holy Basilica. He came to a stop when his back rammed into the far wall, next to a wall mounting of a Holy Cross. His body jerked with the severity of the wind and impact, coughing a little. But strangely enough, Setsuya couldn't help but smile at this. Not only had Aarin tapped the magical properties of the Wind Soul; he had also become a better tactician. The Air Wave Stroke on the beam from above was just a ploy. To distract Setsuya from the real issue. A magical attack. Not bad at all. Setsuya unhurriedly dragged his back out of the dent mark that had been made in the far wall and stepped back onto the floorboards of the church with both feet. He slowly proceeded to dust off his auburn hair and continued smiling, as Aarin stood across from him, motionlessly. Nonchalantly, Setsuya looked over at his opponent. "Not bad. You've definitely improved there, Aarin. But I haven't been idle for the past two years either." "I would imagine so." Aarin replied. Of course, he wanted energy spent on action, not words. Which was exactly what he was going to get. Setsuya levelled out the Fire Cutter with his own body and began running towards Aarin. Across that large gap that had been made between them by the force of the Wind Cluster. The English youth watched this intently. A frontal assault? That would not work any better on him than that defensive stance as previously taken by Setsuya. The Japanese man came at the English one as swiftly as his legs would allow with the Fire Cutter as the lead of attack. Aarin pulled Wind Soul into a defensive position and awaited the attack which came sharply. Setsuya swung his sword around the length of his body whilst stepping in stride. Aarin parried the blow with his vertical guard. Then Setsuya stepped back with a smile on his face. Aarin took the opportunity he had been waiting for and slashed at Setsuya from the front. Which was just what Setsuya had been expecting. The brown-haired boy leapt upwards from that position before even confirming Aarin's action. The blade of the Wind Soul swept through the air and nothing else. And so Aarin looked up to see what Setsuya was doing. The other man vaulted up high enough to grip one of the rafters that hung above them. He held on tightly to the wooden beam. Then, whilst sheathing Fire Cutter with his free hand, Setsuya swung himself around the length of the beam until he rotated his body around it. Allowing him to stand on the thing in a crouched position. Aarin looked confused. Just what good would that do? Setsuya knew that Aarin could just cut that rafter down and that he would come down with it. The blonde-haired young man looked up at this but did nothing to dissuade Setsuya from this action. At the heart of it all; Aarin wanted to win this fight. He bent forwards a little then concentrated his force on the blade in his hands. Another Air Wave Stroke would do the trick. And following this action, Aarin gave another. He slashed ruthlessly through the air, aiming at the rafter that Setsuya was standing. Invoking the power of the Air Wave Stroke. Setsuya stayed perfectly still as the slash cut through the weakening-with-age wood that made up that beam. But as the wooden beam began to fall, Aarin's eyes went wide. Setsuya was not falling along with it. The image of Setsuya still hung in the air even when the rafter he was standing on was crashing to the ground. Aarin couldn't understand it. Until he noticed that the image of Setsuya faded from view. What on earth did that mean? "How could he-?" Aarin couldn't finish. The second he spoke he heard the sound of a blade moving through air. It was unmistakable. Without looking back he hoisted Wind Soul above his head in a vertical position. The clash between two swords echoed again in the Holy Basilica. The two held each other to a standstill. And then Setsuya stepped back from the sword lock, whilst crouching downwards. The length of his leg followed him as he span around in point on the wooden floorboards. Until Setsuya's brown boot rammed into Aarin's. The blonde swordfighter grunted with the impact and was swept straight off his feet. He toppled over onto the ground, face down. Setsuya stood upright, redrew Fire Cutter, then jumped up again. But this time he had a plan of attack. He took a deep breath and focused his force into the Fire Cutter. The attention of his whole body was placed inside that one sword. Flames soon burst over it. Bright orange-red fire that gave a healthy glow to the church. He slashed downwards towards Aarin. "Burn Shell!" Setsuya's motion brought along the power of magical fire into the real world. His flames rotated around themselves and shot down at Aarin in a spherical ball of flaming power. Aarin felt the sudden increase in heat from up above and acted. He tightened his grip over the Wind Soul and dragged himself up onto his knees. Then rolled forwards with as much speed as possible. He rolled and rolled until he got back up onto his feet. Just in time to avoid the strength of the Burn Shell. The flaming magical ball collided with the floorboards of the Holy Basilica. There was a brief explosion. Chips and fragments of wood were blown up into the air. Along with the embers and cinders. Waves of grey smoke passed along the floors from the sweeping force released by the impact. Aarin covered his mouth with the back of his hand to prevent from inhaling any of it. A crater had been left in the smoke clouds. About a metre wide and twenty centimetres deep. With Setsuya landing just a little ways behind it. With the Fire Cutter in hand, which still burned with bright fire. The two looked at each other from across that divide. Both smiled. But neither smile was forced or born of amateurish overconfidence. They were twin smiles of excitement and happiness. To know that they had finally found a decent challenge for each other. And even more so for Aarin. Because he had actually forgotten about Setsuya's After Image ability. He must have used it back on the rafters. That was a technique he had invented during the Yuuga School days. It was one move that Aarin was never able to learn. But it made them equals. It was a perfect counter strategy for the Air Wave Stroke. The flames from the Burn Shell shone brightly in the Holy Basilica of the Fallen Ones. But their dancing was ignored while Aarin and Setsuya narrowed down on each other. There was nothing quite like a battle between rivals. And this one held much weight in both their hearts. Enough to forget their problems and just concentrate on the fight at hand. But when you had two fighters as equally matched as Setsuya and Aarin, it did beg the question... ...Who would win? ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Sugano Warehouse, Kuji, Neo-Japan It was times like these that allowed Ayame to appreciate the urban life for what it was. The sounds, smells, sights. In the far beyond of the stone walls of this warehouse, you could hear the sounds of nearby dogs barking. The chime of police sirens. The dripping of oil that leaked from the old machinery that was strewn out all over this abandoned warehouse of Sugano. Ayame had found it by chance but it looked like a good place to hide out for the moment. The Neo-Japanese woman sat with her legs crossed, Nobunaga unsheathed and rested upon her wrapped legs. Next to her was a small towel and a jar of rubbing acid. Ayame poured a little of the rubbing acid onto the paper towel. Then lifted up Nobunaga with her free hand and began smoothly running the towel over the edge of the sword. The last time she had sharpened it was during the effort that she had made to bring Julia to Simon. That was three months ago. And though it had not seen much action up until now, she felt that it needed to be re-sharpened. She began the process. As she did this, Ayame looked over at Julia. She was laid out over a small blanket, asleep. As soon as the upper floor of the Tavern exploded, the two of them made for a safe place. They couldn't go back to their apartment because if Ras had survived then it would be the first logical place for him to go. They made a trek across town and reached a whole new district. As far as they could go without actually leaving Kuji. By the time they found Sugano Warehouse, it was morning, and Julia was exhausted. So they spent the day here. Now it was night again. Another day had passed and they were safe. But if Ras was still alive (doubtful, but...) then they would have to keep moving to avert him. And Ayame had to be ready to defend Julia against anything else the Shougatsu might send. Then Julia began to stir a little. Ayame's silvery eyes looked downwards as she heard Julia mutter to herself, just before her eyelids began to flutter open. The Scottish girl's restored green eyes looked up slowly to see Ayame sharpening her sword, with a small smile across her lips. "Hey," Ayame said, "Finally awake yet? We don't have to leave for another two or three hours so, you can sleep till then if you'd like." Julia balled up her hand and rubbed her eyes. "What... are you doing at this hour?" "Giving Nobunaga a bit of a spit polish," Ayame answered, brandishing the katana before the brown-haired girl, "I don't think having it has done me much good in the battles against that thing from the Research Facility. Nobunaga can barely scratch through its armour. So having it sharpened might not come to much... but at least its something. I should probably look into buying a newer, stronger sword. But weapons of this strength don't come cheap." Julia then leaned up from her blanket. "Have you slept at all today?" "Not really," Replied the Dark Katana, "I got a few hours shuteye a while ago but that's it. I need to stay awake in case something else comes after you. I wouldn't want for you to be attacked or something while I'm snoozing on the job." And to that, Julia smiled. "...You should stop worrying about me like that. You've already done so much to protect me from the Shougatsu Financial Group... the least you deserve is a good night's rest." Ayame yawned a little, sheathing Nobunaga. "Maybe. But protecting you is part of my job, remember? I can't fail at that." At that point, Julia's smile lessened. "Is that how you see me?" "What?" "As your mission. Your charge." Julia put forth, "Is that really how you see me? After all this time we've been together is that how little you think of me?" Talk about taking a comment in the wrong way. Ayame blinked at this. How could Julia even think something like that? Sure, Ayame started this whole thing for the money, but it wasn't like that now. "...Look, I didn't mean it like that." Julia looked away, frowning. "...Well. At least I know where I stand with you." "I said that I didn't mean it like that," Ayame re-emphasised, "That's not how I see you at all. I mean, sure, at first you were just my meal ticket. A way for me to get a lot of money real quick. But... then we spent the last three months together. And I got to see how wonderful and sweet and kind you are. Even to people who really don't deserve it. I know I might not say it much... you do mean a lot to me. More than you really understand, I think." Just as Julia's previous smile faded, so did her current frown, which was replaced by a fresh new smile from the heart. "...Ayame..." The Neo-Japanese woman shook her head. "I mean it. I do care about you. I mean, do you really think I'd really stick my neck out against something like Ras es-Shamrah for someone I didn't care about or like? Come on, Julia, you know me better than that." "...I'm sorry," Julia looked downwards, with a sheepish smile, "I shouldn't have said that. It's just... sometimes I get worried. It's a really hurtful feeling to care for someone more than they care for you. And I don't want it to be like that between the two of us." "Well it isn't." Ayame assured. But Julia wasn't so sure about that. "...Isn't it?" "Didn't I just tell you that it wasn't?" "That's not what I mean," Julia replied, shaking her head, "I like you a lot as a friend, Ayame. But... sometimes I wish we weren't friends. Sometimes I wish... that..." The blush that now appeared on both girl's faces suddenly made clear the point that Julia was trying to put through. By now Julia had inched herself a little closer to Ayame. The two young women looked at each other with a genuine honesty that both of them couldn't have understood at that point. Neither gaze was probing, begging for answers in sea of questions that only the other could answer. But their exchanged looks presented emotion, as well as the tint of fear that they both carried for putting their hearts on the line for such an action. But that brief tranquil look they shared was then shattered by violent burst of pent up lust and suppressed desire. Ayame locked her eyes shut and gripped Julia by her soft cheeks in a gentle but possessive touch. Julia closed her own eyes and exhaled desperately as Ayame's lips lunged at her own, claiming a kiss that neither girl had expected from the other. The Scottish girl in the arms of the Neo-Japanese one parted her lips and wound her hands into the bark of Ayame's jet black hair, which had been released from its usual ponytail. The two sat there and kissed, for the moment, forgetting their troubles. And now it had just dawned on Ayame that she had broken her first law of mission work. Never fall in love with your charge. But when you meet with someone like Julia McAmish... ...Who could blame her?
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