GT 2015 - MATCH 2 - Isao vs. Max

The young samurai, Isao no Kakita, Hatamoto to Lord Hizashi Genji, entered the gaijin arena with a look of reserved caution. His liege lord had sent him across the sea to the distant land of Medan. It was there he was ordered to represent Katashima in the proving grounds of honorable combat on a world stage that would bring glory to himself and the lands he called home. His youth was obvious as he was hardly a man yet his stoic disposition would project someone older, stronger and wiser than himself. He was the epitome of Katashima nobility; he had an exotic western appearance, dressed in exotic western garb and carrying exotic western arms. He entered the arena and approached his opponent to render a deep customary bow.

Isao had dressed adequately for the occasion.

Around his brow he wore a white hachimaki (headband) emblazoned with the banner of his homeland. It would help keep sweat and his clean black hair out of his eyes, which he wore in a tight samurai topknot.

He wore a blue keikoga (thick robe) that bore the kanji of his kenjutsu school on his breast. A tsuki cord - a cloth strip - was tied to pull up his sleeves, providing his arms a range of motion unburdened by his attire. It was a necessity for the samurai swordsman not donning the traditional yoroi (armor) of his people.

Hakama (skirt-like pants) adorned his legs in solid black. The pleats were firm and identified him as a bushi (warrior) of the samurai caste. Secured in the ties of the hakama were a matching set of swords called a daisho which consisted of a katana (longsword) and wakizashi (shortsword). His arms represented his soul and his honor - the identifying weapons of the samurai caste. Dressed head to heel in the traditional trappings of a Katashima samurai, Isao struck a fearsome sight.

After Isao rose from his bow he looked up into the arena stands for one person: Queen Itami of Katashima. He bowed again towards her direction before returning his eyes to his opponent. The samurai looked Max straight in the eyes with a palpable determination.

"I am Isao no Kakita, Hatamoto to Lord Hizashi Genji, Student of Kawakami Omura, Betrothed to Itami-heika. It is an Honor to meet you in battle, Max-san. I pray the Fortunes favor me today, might I learn much from our battle."

With his right hand he grasped the tsuka of his sword and with his left hand the saya near the mouth; his thumb would press on the tsuba, pushing the guard forward so the sword sprang from its sheath in a fluid draw. Beautiful Katashima steel was revealed in a flourish, his movements as graceful as calligraphy. A curved, razor sharp edge was presented to Max that caught the light of the sun within the arena.

"Now, show me your stance!"

Isao adopted a standard chudan-no-kamae stance to allow himself a neutral range of movement while he assessed his opponent. He slid his right foot slightly forward, grasping his sword between his hands before himself. He gripped the sword tightly with his pinky fingers, each further finger having a looser grip, until his index and thumb merely rested around the tsuka. With disciplined control over his sword he would then exercise his breathing. His eyes never left the eyes of his opponent as presented his defense and readied his offense. He steeled his resolve; his spirit was ready to bear.

Isao regarded Max with a simple nod - a gesture of recognition - before he steeled his resolve and braced for the battle to come. He had been misinformed regarding the wear of armor but he would not let that deter his confidence. For a samurai did not need armor - his Honor would be his shield. It would give him pause to think more tactically, however. The swordsman was a warrior and a scholar and would let his natural instincts, forms refined to a muscle memory and intellect to win the day. He brandish his sword between his hands and watched Max's eyes before he pressed the attack.

Isao took a step forward while switching to a defensive guard, standing in ko gasumi-no-kamae; he ensured the coupled length of his arms and sword would readily put him within range of Max. The samurai moved and his sword struck like a viper, lunging forward in an attempt to pierce the man's guard... But it was a feint! His right foot immediately stepped back as he changed to an offense with a jodan-no-kamae stance. He raised his sword high above his head for power and let out a thunderous kiah shout.

"Hya!"

In an attempt to take advantage of the feint, to test his reactions and defense, Isao came at Max with a committed attack. The samurai's sword would build momentum in the overhand cut, searching for a clean shoulder to waist stroke. The sharp Katashima steel would attempt to come down on Max's left shoulder. Isao guided the swing with his right hand and pulled with his left in a sound hasuji. His sandals gripped the sand readily as he balanced his weight with the strike, his body poised and taut like a spring.

He would follow through, whether Max dodged or parried, with an immediate step back. He returned to ko gasumi-no-kamae: the samurai held his sword in a high guard in anticipation of a counter. The man's eyes read his opponent's body language in an attempt to understand his limits and pattern. At the same time Isao began to establish his own natural rhythm, alternating between defensive and offensive posturing while pressing a steady assault.

Momentum.

Isao sought to gain momentum in the fight and maintain it through the rhythm of an alternating offense and defense. The samurai swordsman watched Max move, his reactions a touch unorthodox, which only prompted him to keep a steady eye on him and reassess his opponent. In a clash of steel and a spray of sand the two swordsmen switched sides in the arena. The young samurai regarded Max carefully before the man threw himself at him. From his ko gasumi-no-kamae high guard Isao took a step back, his left foot forward pushing his body back to push himself out of the reach of the man's horizontal slash. Immediately after the sword cleared Isao's form he reacted: his right leg pushed himself back within reach of Max and from ko gasumi-no-kamae he attacked.

The Katashiman warrior reduced his profile by turning his hips slightly - partly to gain momentum - as he pulled with his left hand and guided his sword with his right. The steel flashed with an arc as he bellowed out another, louder kiah shout.

"Hya!"

The tip of the sword arced back, down and forward in a crescent strike. Within reach of Max, he swung to find purchase on the opening Max may have presented to him after Isao stepped back from the blow. The strike would rise from Max's left hip to right shoulder. He committed his strength to the blow and would immediately attempt to follow through to press his advantage, returning with a flick of his wrist in a returning shoulder to hip that would trace the first strike's path. With the same motion he stepped back with his right foot to maintain distance between them.

The samurai swordsman returned once again to ko gasumi-no-kamae with a high guard, undaunted and studiously watching Max with a tempered resolve. Isao could respect his opponent but was wary of more unorthodox reactions.

The moment Isao managed to knock Max's sword from his hand, the young samurai relentlessly pursued the unarmed mercenary. The stadium was electric as the samurai chased Max; the tension was palpable as the two warriors danced on a razor's edge - honor, blood and glory were all on the line as the two distinctly different warriors engaged in a battle that stole the attention of everyone in attendance. The spinning arc of a flying sword was followed by Isao who transitioned once more into a jodan-no-kamae stance.

The Katashiman warrior stepped forward, always keeping Max without the length of his reach, with his right foot as his arms lifted his sword above his head. He distributed his weight evenly between his feet as he never over extended himself. His left hand cupped the hilt of the sword where his right gripped the silk bound handle. He followed Max in his attempt to recover his sword and resume a guard with a follow on sword stroke.

"Hya," he bellowed in another kiah shout. It carried strength and purpose; it expressed the ferocity of his warrior spirit, gave strength to his stroke and sought to intimidate and unsettle his enemy. His dark eyes followed Max as he put him on the defensive.

With the katana held aloft, Isao brought the sword down hard and fast. The razor sharp edge of the steel came down towards the man's exposed cranium, slightly from Max's right. In another strong hasuji he would pull the sword down and away with the stroke; it was done from years of practice of cutting tatami rolls.

The seasoned, grizzled nomad swung hard from Isao's right flank after he jumped aside of his downward swing. He saw a few gray hairs float to the ground from the narrow margin he missed the man. Isao knew his opponent was older, more experienced and highly unorthodox so he had pressed his advantage in a relentless pursuit to push Max into making a mistake. He felt skin graze him as he turned his head and began to turn his body into the blow. While he had kept Max within the length of his sword, Max made the mistake of moving within reach of a jiujutsu strike. The grizzled warrior glanced his face hard enough when he turned into the blow, clipping his cheek and boxing his ear.

With his posture having adjusted into a migi-gedan-no-kamae stance - his sword held low after the strike, down to the right, his right foot forward - he was in a position to offer a lethal counter attack. He freed his wakizashi - his short sword - from its saya with his right hand as he firmly grasped the katana in his left. In a natural arc from his left hip to Max on his right, the short sword snaked out like a viper to slice the man's belly open. He wouldn't be able to monopolize on the man's compromised defense with another kenjutsu strike using his katana, but his wakizashi had the reach for the shorter distance between them in that moment.

Whether the man was able to react accordingly or not, Isao maintained the aggressive tempo that had kept Max on the run for the most of the fight. He needed to continue to press the advantage, a bruised cheek and ear or not. He lightly panted as the exercise in combat began to tear at his core. Fighting a real flesh and blood warrior was invigorating and adrenaline rushed through his veins because of it. The samurai, who had worn a mask of stoic defiance, grinned as he eyed Max during their dance of steel. All the while the coliseum roared in excitement, each blow met with tension and thunderous applause.

"Doumo arigatou gozaimasu," he breathed, a quiet exchange between them.

He thanked him for the opportunity their match afforded them in his native Katashiman tongue.

However, that grin faded and that firm, undaunted resolve returned. It was a will as strong as the steel in his hands as he defensively moved around Max, his katana in his right hand and katana in his left...

He turned the wakizashi in his hand and slid it into its scabbard on his left hip as he guarded himself with his katana in his right hand. It seemed his gambit had paid off; Max was completely caught off guard when he drew his short sword. The young samurai adjusted his stance as he resumed a two-handed grip on his katana. He took a step forward with his left foot, raised the sword above his head and exhaled as he settled into jodan-no-kamae. He felt a sheen of sweat on his exposed arms, neck and face. He was fortunate his headband was keeping the sweat from dripping down into his eyes. He was poised and ready to strike, tighter than a spring in a siege engine. Determination was written into his features like immortalized stone.

Isao had sensed the man had underestimated him due to his age. During the duel he had pressed his advantage the entire time, pressing him with a relentless fury of attacks. Now, the man was wounded and on the defense again. Max would not be afforded too long to breathe - Isao stepped forward with another thundering kiah shout.

"Hya!"

He moved, his arms bringing down the sword fast and hard once again towards the man's skull.