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Who: Baku and Ryuta (possibly Kisa, Kazuki, and Chloe)
Where: Chitoku Academy, Kendo Club Dojo
When: Tuesday, April 25, After School
What: Baku's Challenge, Round 1

The kendo club proceeds as normal today - much to Baku's chagrin. His private tutelage and extra time spent on the sport placed him at a noticeably higher caliber than his peers, and so he often thought of the incessant repetition of the basics needless and pedantic, despite knowing better. A solid foundation is the key for flawlessly executing advanced maneuvers. You're a san-dan, for crying out loud. Tough it out. And tough it out he did, his face a window into his spirit of determination, but the teen has only so much patience. After a series of drills that seemed to roll on forever, Baku finally found the chance he'd been looking for.

"Yo, Ryuta-san!" he calls out to his roommate and approaches in full gear minus the mask, which is cradled under his left arm while his shinai rests across his shoulder, held in place with his right hand, "we still have some time before dinner, and you know, we still haven't decided what we're having... but I know how we can decide."

And at the precise moment that final sentence had left his lips, his eyes light up and before the suggestion even leaves his mouth, the challenging smirk that graces his lips is more than enough indicator of what he is about to suggest.

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Another day of kendo practice. While he may not have shown it, Ryuta was glad to finally begin practice for the week. The past few days only added more stress to his life. Running for student council president was no laughing matter. It had both physically and mentally drained him as he spent most of his free time trying to find new ways to grab more support. Unfortunately, nothing had worked out quite as planned. But once he started the practice drills, he could feel his worries melting away with each swing of his shinai. Over and over, he performed the drills with concealed enthusiasm, enjoying the much needed relief.

Seeing how much time has passed, Ryuta pulled off his mask and took a much needed break from his practice. Once he did, Baku approached Ryuta with his challenge. It was an interesting opportunity. Ryuta already started to feel some hunger pains. And he was hoping to see the extent of Baku's training first hand. "Oh, is that a challenge then, Ogata? I would be more than happy to accept. If I win however, I want a rice omlette. Deal?" A hint of confidence creeped into his words. Baku may have a strong background in the sport, but Ryuta was sure of his own capabilities.

Edited 2013-09-26 04:26 (UTC)

Gotcha! He was caught in Baku's snare now; there was no escaping. The teen smirks triumphantly, as if he had already won. You are a san-dan. Your father is a kyoshi nana-dan. Defeat is impossible. Arrogant as his thoughts might be, he closes his eyes and clears his mind of outside influences. The challenge was underway - in a personal test of skill with such an important stake as dinner on the line, Baku's will was immovable. Keep him trying, but ever beyond arm's reach. That's when something hit him.

"Kabayaki!" He exclaims, then repeats with a firm nod, "if I win, then we're getting some kabayaki." Most of the other students had begun to file out, but a few stopped to look back to the pair and watch on almost silently. Ever the showman, Baku saunters a ways from Ryuta and looks back, speaking somewhat loudly, "first to three, then? I hope you're as ready as you sound, Ryuta-san."

"We have a deal then. And believe me, I am more than ready." Ryuta donned his mask once more and checked his equipment. He didn't care either way about what they had for dinner. All he cared about was testing himself against someone as skilled as Baku. And if Ryuta did win, it would be a good chance to push Baku to work harder. Nothing like a friendly rivalry to push oneself even further.

Taking in a few deep breaths, Ryuta relaxes his mind and focuses on the task before him. Various strategies popped up one after another, before he finally settled on the his course of action. He positioned himself accordingly and strengthened his grip on his shinai.

Ryuta stood before Baku, poised and ready to begin.

Are you, Ryuta-san?

An arrogant grin only briefly flashes across his features before they're hidden by the mask that he places firmly over his head. With a swift, practiced move, he brings his shinai to bear against his opponent. All at once, the adrenaline of competition rushes back to him, prompting an excessively eager grin to accompany his slow advance towards Ryuta. In fact, he was barely moving a step with every two seconds that passed. Their swords cross at last, and Baku flicks his wrist back and forth gently, causing the tip to gently tap the end of Ryuta's weapon, only to rotate under it and tap the other side. This rhythm continues in quick succession.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

The plan was simple - kendo was a sport that relied upon the harmony of body and mind. Therefore, it was as much a psychological sport as a physical one. Though they were still quite a distance apart, such a brisk, repeated motion could often lure one's opponent into dedicating themselves to a premature offense, or into reciprocating the tapping motion. Either action would put them off-balance and give Baku an opening with which to strike; as Ryuta's senior at the sport, Baku knew he could outmaneuver his roommate physically, but falling for this ploy would seal his defeat.

A rather simple tactic, to be honest. Ryuta could see what he had planned and felt a little insulted by Baku's ploy. Baku had the experience sure, but it was painfully obvious how arrogant he was. That, coupled with the fact that Baku was taking Ryuta too lightly, would prove to be his downfall. Perhaps I should enlighten him.

Ryuta held his ground and focused on Baku, strengthening his concentration as he searched for an opening. While Baku was clearly an aggressive fighter, Ryuta knew the value of patience. Choosing a more defensive approach was the best option right now. While Baku continued to toy with him, Ryuta would bide his time and tire out his opponent. He would not be so easily goaded into an premature attack.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. Tobikomi-waza will not work. Not right now. I can feel his determination.

What was taking him so long? It was fairly obvious that Baku knew Ryuta wouldn't fall for it, but he kept on. There was far more going on here than meets the eye, that much was certain. There was something about the way his foot would scoot the slightest bit closer with each tap. Something was just off.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. Harai-waza. Maybe.

Baku springs back a half-step, perhaps to coax Ryuta into action by switching the tempo of his movements. A slow breath follows. Intimidation. Break the spirit, and the body will follow. Never was Baku's keen eye for observation so apparent as during a kendo match, staring intently at the slightest twitch that Ryuta might provide to give him insight into his mind. Debana-waza, if I can anticipate his attack before it happens. Kaeshi-waza, if I cannot.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Ryuta watched Baku's movements carefully, trying to discern his next move. With each step, he tracked his opponent like a hunter studying his prey. One small opening is all I need. Ryuta had no doubt he would lose this battle. It was only logical after all. Baku was stronger, had more training, and, when he actually applies himself, shows determination and focus like no other. But Ryuta knew that he had to at least strike one point on his target. After all, he couldn't let Baku off that easily. Ryuta had to teach him to never underestimate his opponent. And him being so arrogant just won't do.

Ryuta waited patiently for just the right moment. He counted out each tap of their shinai as he looked for an opening. One. Two. Three. Ryuta saw something with the third one. But was it an opening or a fluke? Four. Five. Six. There is was again. On the sixth tap, he could see what he believed to be his chance. It was now or never. He had to catch Baku off guard before he switched to a more offensive approach. Seven. Eight. Now!

And in a flash, Ryuta charged at Baku before the ninth tap and swung his shinai toward the right side of Baku's helmet. Men-bu.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. What, is he trying to stare me down? That won't work.

He would definitely pay for his earlier embarrassment at the gym; Baku's thoughts traveled back to that day, unaware that his form had begun to slip slightly. He had taken Ryuta's intrusion playfully, or so he had thought, but it was still a small slight that had to be paid for here. Oh, he would definitely lose, there was no question about that.

Ha, I just hope Kisa has time to show up for the finale. And again, his thoughts wander away from the duel before him, having settled into his rhythmic tapping. She had complimented him on his commitment earlier, but she hadn't really seen him in action against an actual opponent. If his own senpai would have admiration for his skills, then maybe she wou-

THUMP! His thoughts are disrupted by a firm strike to the side of his mask.

You've got to be fucking kidding me. He got a point. The first point.

His rage wells up within him a moment - and he recognizes this. A derisive snort escapes his nostrils before he sighs and lets loose a dry chuckle. He shakes his head and brings his shinai to bear once more, taking a few steps back. The corner of his lip curls up in a determined sneer; the silence that follows as he waits for Ryuta to prepare himself is a foreboding thing.

A successful attack. Ryuta knew now the opening was no fluke. It was made possible due to Baku's lack of concentration. After a quick back-step away, Ryuta then braced himself for Baku's inevitable retaliation.

Despite his achievement, Ryuta was well aware of how things were going to end. Nonetheless, he was pleased with himself. While he may not win the match, it turned out to be a valuable learning experience. Baku learns to never underestimate his opponent, and I will learn how kabayaki tastes. This was a small victory, but a victory in his book regardless.

Edited 2013-10-02 00:18 (UTC)

As soon as Ryuta was braced, Baku set himself into a more aggressive stance. Offense was his best defense, but he hadn't expected Ryuta to even be capable of scoring a point against him. He steps forward boldly and delivers a quick but powerful swing from below with his shinai - towards Ryuta's own. Such is the strength with which Baku performs the maneuver that he knows he has the perfect opportunity to follow up; Baku knew that even he himself couldn't recover in time. After Ryuta's shinai is far enough off-target, another determined downwards motion comprises the actual attack portion of his maneuver.

Sho-men: a strike to the top of the mask; simple. You're clever, Ryuta, but I grew up with rigorous training. Your stance is firm. Practiced. Unnatural. Still, you deserve credit - I won't be able to do that again this match.

Edited 2013-10-02 23:39 (UTC)

Ryuta stood in place, observing Baku as he awaited his move. Different scenarios passed his thoughts, guessing his opponents next action. As long as I have my guard up, he can't-

At that moment, Ryuta's shinai moved all on it's own, away from it's original defensive position. Before Ryuta could even register what just occurred, he felt a sharp blow to his head. Instinctively, he quickly backed up a few steps away from whatever just hit him.

Before him, he saw Baku; he stood firmly in placed, seeming more agitated than before. Ryuta reconfirmed everything that happened a moment ago, seeing only one possibility: Baku gained a point. It wasn't something unexpected, but only after seeing his skills first hand did Ryuta know the extent of Baku's training. Well, he's serious now.

Breaking out of his confused daze, Ryuta took up a defensive stance once more. This time, he was ready in case Baku used that combination again.

Baku remained firmly in place, mentally confirming his successful attack. 1-1. Continuation of awareness. Readiness to strike again. Focus. The thrill of the competition was finally flowing through him; he felt his movements slip into a flowing rhythm of speed and strength. He stares levelly at Ryuta for a long while, as if confirming the mental readiness of his opponent. His stance remains aggressive, yet for a moment, he does not move. Within the blink of an eye, multiple scenarios flash through his mind before he reverts to a simple observation.

His stance may be rigid, but it is sound. If he will not give me an opening, I will create one.

Lackadaisical as he might be in his other subjects, it's common knowledge that advancement from one dan to the next also requires a firm understanding of kendo theory. In fact, kendo was one of the only subjects he could study without becoming bored; his studies did bear an immediately tangible result in his battles, after all. In his desire to create an opening, he remembers the concept of the katsugi-waza. Excellent.

With that, he lifts his shinai over his shoulder visibly as he takes a single step forward with his right foot. What in the world was he doing? From Ryuta's perspective, it might look like a good opening for an attack, but it was all a ploy. A momentary opening is created when the mind decides to stop defending and begins its attack - a moment that Baku is all too familiar with taking advantage of. Kendo was not for the faint of heart, and Baku was anything but. Almost as soon as he had lifted his shinai, he swiftly brings it back down in a thrusting motion for the throat protector of Ryuta's mask, his feet gliding across the floor with natural grace. It was a technique restricted to yodansha in practice and competition due to a chance of injury if performed incorrectly, but Baku's form in this strike is immaculate.

To say he held back would be incorrect, but the thrust did not have an overwhelming amount of force behind it. Baku didn't want to hurt Ryuta, after all, and not even the thrill of competition could remove the due caution he exercises.

The strike was too fast for Ryuta to counter. It hit his throat with all the intended force behind it. Although he knew he was going to lose this battle from the beginning, Ryuta couldn't help but scowl at his incompetence. If he wasn't wearing his mask right now, he was certain the look on his face would draw unwanted attention. It would seem all too menacing for someone like him.

Ryuta backed up a step. His guard lowered for a brief moment, catching his breath. 2-1. A rather disgraceful performance on my part.

He took up a defensive stance once more, but with less conviction then before. It was inevitable. There was nothing else he could do. Going in for a desperate last attack would only shame him more. I must train harder from now on. I will become stronger. I MUST become stronger. These thoughts repeated in his head as he awaited the finishing blow.

Another successful strike. As before, Baku refuses to let his run of success get to his head, and he jolts back a few steps in preparation for his next maneuver.

One might think that his comeback would instill Baku with a sense of pride. An individual like Ryuta, diligent in his studies and adept at maintaining physical fitness through a strict routine, would surely be a conquest worthy of celebration upon his defeat. But these preconceptions would prove shattered in the face of Baku's response. He dropped his guard. He's giving up. What the hell, Ryuta-san? And rather than triumph, the teen is overflowing with indignation.

"You know better than that, Ryuta! It's never over before the last strike!" The emotions flowing through him are clearly expressed in his shout; his anger was clearly directed at Ryuta's lack of spirit for the final round, "there's nothing worse you could do than give up!"

And then his attack began. This time, it seems that all of Baku's energy was placed into a quick spring attack towards his opponent. He thrusts his shinai out just to the left of Ryuta, under his opponent's blade, and uses raw agility to deliver a swift attack aimed at the migi-do, the side of the armor protecting the torso.

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