Kenji's Camp

Kenji could hear Hiyama approach from afar. He did not suspect the traveler to be of ill-intent, and so made no attempt to ready himself for combat. He continued meditating by the side of the campfire until the young man approached. He sat cross-legged, his hands calmly resting on his knees.

Hiyama would find Kenji donning dark-colored garments covering his body, with a red sash around his waist and a red jerkin over his torso. A red headband seemed to conceal his eyes, as if he was blind - or perhaps he wanted to be perceived as being blind. On his left flank was his personal sword and a wakizashi, both sheathed and protected from the elements.

"Honestly, I do not know," Kenji answered Hiyama calmly without looking at him; he offered a warm and inviting demeanor. "Perhaps I owe my lineage to Katashima, but I have never been there. I have heard of a warlord calling himself Nishida who has come from Katashima; he is seeking to build a new homeland for the refugees that have come with him." Kenji turned his hand over and motioned for Hiyama to take a seat next to the fire. "My name is Kenji, and I was raised in a temple somewhere far away. I have come here seeking worthy opponents to test my skill in combat. I hope to become a great swordsman one day. What of you, my friend? Do you seek a challenge as well? Or perhaps you seek your kin, from Katashima? Maybe you seek the company of another warrior?"

Kenji felt sympathy for the young man, and an urge began to swell within him to help him return to his home. He had to consider his options. Perhaps it would not be so bad to travel with someone; perhaps he could learn something by traveling with Hiyama; what did Kenji have to lose? After a few moments of silence, Kenji grinned and spoke - again, not looking directly at Hiyama. "I do not know much of this Nishida; only that he seeks a new home for his people. Perhaps you could seek him out; he may be able to inform you of your homeland better than I."

Now Kenji turned his head; he could not see through the blindfold, but his eyes were pointed directly at Hiyama's. "And if you do not mind the company, I can come with you." Kenji grinned and turned his head to its previous position. "And perhaps one day we can both return to the realm of Katashima. Perhaps that is where I am truly from, and perhaps it is there I can learn more about my past... before I arrived at the temple. So what do you say, Hiyama?"

Kenji moved one of his hands to his side and gripped his personal sword. He held it in front of him and gripped the hilt with one hand and the sheath with the other. He drew the blade only an inch or so and let Hiyama inspect it. It was as long as an ordinary katana, but with a straight blade rather than a curved one, almost like a ninjato. The steel, assuming that's what it was, was exquisitely made. It was a single-edged sword encased in a dark red sheath; the handle was black, wrapped up in red ribbon-like cloth.

"This blade was given to me by my masters. They say it belonged to my father, and his father before him, and so on. I am inclined to believe them, as I feel... drawn to it. There is something about the sword that feels... mystical." Kenji quickly sheathed the blade once again. "But it is merely a sword, and has no magical properties." He laid the sword back at his side and did not bother picking up the wakizashi. "The other blade is not meant to be a weapon, but a tool. It has come in handy more than you would think."

"Now," Kenji cocked his head to the side, almost facing Hiyama. "If you would test my skill against your own... I would embrace your challenge. Shall we have a go... friend?" Kenji smiled, ever the gentleman.

    He stood promptly, leaving the straw cloak behind where he sat. His young form stood in the loose kimono and hakama, affording a newfound mobility appropriate for a spar. Taking several steps back, he stands confidently before his opponent, his right side slightly forward but not yet held in any particular stance. The katana, fully revealed at his left side, had yet to be drawn.

    "Ready?"

    "Hm.."

    He figured he could go on the offense in this spar. His left hand drew back on the scabbard, pulling it along the belt as his right arm drew the sword forward, both moving in union to bring the blade to the fore, pointing at the opponent at a diagonal angle.
    He began moving forwards slowly, his steps seeming mechanical and calculated; his left foot continually shuffled forwards as though sweeping for debris hidden in the grass that may threaten his footing. His eyes narrowed in focus, for it was courteous in this scenario to give his opponent his greatest challenge, and the distance began to dwindle with each step...

    Hiyama continued to pursue, his steps quick but not hurried, conveying a slight sense of urgency as he got closer and anticipated some manner of clash. Hiyama, as he closed in, would not relent.
    Just as Kenji shoved back, reaching for his sword, Hiyama rose his own. The distance Kenji had withdrawn had allotted a safe timing to maneuver, safe from counter-attack. It was only when Hiyama stepped in pursuit that his sword descended at a very swift speed, torn from its upper stance quicker than it had poised by the boy's right arm. As Kenji's sword came from its scabbard and his body stabilized from his step, the kissaki of Hiyama's sword shot for a distant diagonal slash that'd only manage to scratch Kenji's left pectoral to his right hip, should it connect.