ericlustbader.the ninja-第51部分

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　Darkness　falling　like　a　final　curtain　and　he　encircled；　the　stealthy　pad　of　bare　feet　against　polished　wood；　a　sun　orbited　by　four　bright　moons。
　The　dragonfly。
　It　was　but　one　of　the　tai…sabaki；　the　circular　movements　consisting　of　glides　and　spins　developed　by　Musashi's　two…Heavens　ryu。
　He　had　seen　this　and　others　performed　to　perfection　by　Kansatsu　countless　times。　He　had　read　about　these　in　numerous　texts　which　the　sensei　had　given　him。　He　had；　even；　practised　some　on　his　own。　But　never　in　bat。
　He　must　let　the　strategy　of　the　others　dictate　his　first　movements；　for　only　by　the　convergence　of　their　attacks　could　he　successfully　use　the　tai…sabaki　and　only　the　tai…sabaki　would　give　him　a　victory　against　four　opponents。
　Two　came　at　him；　one　on　each　side；　both　raising　their　bokken　in　the　traditional　two…handed　kenjutsu　grip。　Crying　aloud；　they　slashed　at　him　simultaneously。
　It　was　the　reverse　butterfly。　He　whirled　in　an　arc　and；　as　he　did　so；　his　right…handed　weapon　swept　down；　slamming　against　one　student's　thighs。　At　the　same　time；　the　second　weapon　was　rising　and　he　continued　the　swirling　motion　of　his　torso；　sweeping　the　rising　bokken　against　the　second　student's　windpipe。　Both　crashed　to　the　ground；　were　replaced　by　the　second　set　of　adversaries。　He　had　half　a　mind　to　use　the　waterwheel　here　but　changed　his　mind　as　the　vectors　changed；　feinting　it　only。　He　split　them；　whirling　still；　and；　his　back　arched；　his　right　bokken　stabbed　end　first　into　the　mid…section　of　the　student　on　his　left　while　his　left…hand　weapon　blurred　upwards；　slamming　into　the　last　student's。　His　bokken　clattered　to　the　floor。　It　was　the　interlacing　cross；　one　of　the　most　difficult　of　the　tai…sabaki。
　He　returned　to　stillness；　his　bokken　poised；　quivering　the　air　as　if　they　had　a　life　of　their　own　and　wished　now　to　see　more　action。
　'Saigo；'　he　heard　Kansatsu　call。　The　four　students　quit　the　field。　Saigo　stepped　into　it。　He　came　to　the　ryu　now　less　and　less　frequently。　Nicholas　did　not　know　to　which　ryu　he　belonged；　no　one　seemed　to。　But　he　knew　that　it　was　none　of　the　ones　in　the　Tokyo　area。
　Without　warning；　Saigo　ran　at　Nicholas。　His　katana　was　still　sheathed　but　in　a　blur　it　was　out；　extending　outwards　and　down　towards　Nicholas。　Saigo　had　bee　adept　at；　among　other　things；　iaijutsu；　the　art　of　the　'fast　draw'。　The　object　was　to　incorporate　the　unsheathing　of　one's　katana　into　the　actual　thrust　against　an　opponent。　The　iai　sensei　could　kill　his　enemy　before　that　person　was　even　aware　that　he　had　drawn　his　weapon。
　One　moment　Saigo　was　unarmed；　the　next　…　perhaps　a　tenth　of　a　second　later　…　he　had　struck　with　lethal　force。　But　even　as　he　had　used　the　iai　draw　Nicholas　had　been　swivelling　backwards　on　his　right　foot　so　that　he　now　faced　Saigo　with　his　left　side　only。　The　blow；　which　had　been　meant　for　Nicholas's　heart；　now　swept　down　into　empty　air　and　with　his　left…hand　bokken　Nicholas　made　contact；　sweeping　the　katana's　blade　up　and　away　from　him；　swivelled　again　so　that　for　an　instant　his　back　was　to　his　opponent；　driving　the　blade　away　still；　using　the　other's　momentum。　Then　he　had　pleted　the　circular　sweep　and　his　right…hand　bokken　slashed　into　Saigo's　exposed　left　side。　The　waterwheel。
　He　stood　now　with　the　entire　class　watching　him；　his　feet　spread；　his　bokken　on　either　side　of　him；　staring　down　at　Saigo's　sprawled　form。　There　would　be；　he　knew；　a　wicked　purple　welt　raising　the　flesh　where　he　had　hit　the　other　which　would　stay　with　him　for　more　than　a　week。
　There　was　absolute　silence　in　the　room；　the　kind　of　stillness　that　weighs　on　the　ears　until　it　bees　in　itself　painful。
　Nicholas　saw　nothing　but　the　face　of　his　cousin　staring　up　at　him。　Never　in　his　life　had　he　seen　a　look　which　contained　so　much　hate。　Nicholas　had　caused　him　to　lose　face　in　front　of　the　ryu；　he；　a　graduate；　felled　by　one　of　the　pupils。　The　intensity　of　their　silent　private　war　was　such　that　for　a　moment　it　appeared　as　if　lightning　might　light　the　room。
　Then　Kansatsu　had　clapped　his　hands　twice　and　the　onlookers　broke　up；　class　was　out　for　the　day。
　Nicholas　found　that　he　was　trembling；　the　muscles　jumping　as　if　out　of　control　under　the　sheath　of　his　skin。　Tension　and　adrenalin　both　still　coursed　through　him；　having　been　released　in　enormous　quantities　by　the　stress　situation。　His　mind　knew　that　that　was　over　but　his　body　needed　more　time　to　acmodate　itself　to　a　return　to　normalcy。
　He　breathed　deeply；　in　and　out。　It　was　like　a　shudder。
　When　he　returned　home　that　evening；　it　was　not　one　of　the　servants　who　opened　the　door　at　his　approach。　Nor　was　it　Cheong。　It　was；　rather；　Yukio。
　He　had　not　seen　her　in　three　years　and　then　it　was　only　one　brief　afternoon　at　a　family　funeral。　It　had　been　three　and　a　half　years　since　their　incendiary　meeting　and　he　had　never　forgotten　her。
　She　bowed。　'Good　evening；　Nicholas。'　She　wore　a。　dove…grey　kimono　with　platinum…coloured　threads　running　through　it　vertically。　It　had　a　midnight…blue　wheel…and…spoke　pattern　that　recalled　the　signs　of　the　feudal　daiymyo。
　He　bowed　in　return。　'Good　evening；　Yukio。'
　She　stood　aside　for　him　to　enter；　her　eyes　on　the　floor　in　front　of　her。　'You　are　surprised　to　see　me。'
　He　put　his　bag　down；　never　taking　his　eyes　off　her　face。　'I　haven't　seen　you　in　years。'
　'Aunt　Itami　brought　me　this　afternoon　while　you　were　at　the　dojo。　I　came　up　to　stay　with　them　but　the　house　is　being　partially　remodelled；　including　the　spare　bedroom。'
　He　took　her　through　the　house；　out　of　the　back　shoji。　They　stepped　out　into　the　night　in　the　Zen　garden。
　It　was　clear；　just　a　few　stray　clouds　rising　like　wisps　of　smoke　low　on　the　horizon。　The　full　moon　was　enormous；　its　reflected　light　turning　the　air　aqueous；　everything　was　bathed　in　blue　shadows。　He　watched　the　soft　light　outline　her　profile；　throwing　her　eyes　into　deep　shadow。　She　might　have　been　a　statue　at　the　Shinto　shrine　hidden　within　the　cryptomeria。　They　might　have　been　under　water。
　A　nightingale　called　softly　from　the　treetops　high　over　their　heads；　and　farther　away　came　the　long；　lonely　hoot　of　a　snow　owl。
　'I've　never　been　to　Kyoto；'　he　said。　It　was　where　she　lived。
　'You　must　e　some　time。'　Her　head　turned　slightly。　She　was　staring　at　the　mountains　of　the　rocks；　raising　themselves　like　living　entities　above　the　lawn　of　round　stones。　Her　voice　was　like　velvet　in　the　night。　They　stood　quite　still；　not　touching。　'It's　very　beautiful。'
　Not　as　beautiful　as　you；　Nicholas　thought。　He　felt　his　heart　beating　hard。　'I　still　remember　what　happened。'
　She　turned　to　face　him　and　the　moonlight　glinted　off　her　pupils。　'What　do　you　mean？'
　Now　he　felt　a　fool。　'At　the　party。'　He　paused。　'When　we　danced。。。'
　She　laughed　a　bit　self…consciously。　'Oh；　that。　I　had　forgotten。'
　He　felt　a　bit　deflated。　He　had　felt　before　that　part　of　her　ing　here　was　because　of　him。　He　saw　how　idiotic　that　was　now。　That　one　incident　had　happened　three　and　a　half　years　ago。　Why　should　she　remember　it？
　'Was　Saigo　at　the　dojo　today？'
　'Yes。　I　hadn't　seen　him　for　some　time。　He's　joined　another　ryu；　I　expect。'
　'Perhaps　that's　why　he　goes　to　Kyushu　a　lot。'
　He　stared　at　her。　'Kyushu？'
　She　nodded。　'It's　my　Uncle　Satsugai's　doing；　I'm　certain。　They're　always　plotting　this　or　that　when　they're　together。　I　can't　imagine　that　Saigo　would　take　it　into　his　head　on　his　own　to　go　so　far　away。　Anyway；　it's　a　secret；　I　know　that　much。'
　'How　do　you　know　that？'
　'I　asked　Aunt　Itami　once　and　she　acted　as　if　she　hadn't　heard　a　word　I'd　said。'
　'I'm　sure　it's　nothing；　then。'
　Yukio　merely　shrugged；　putting　her　arms　across　her　breasts。　'Can　we　go　in？　I'm　hungry。'
　They　went　into　the　house　and　Nicholas　excused　himself。　He　went　off　to　his　room　and；　throwing　off　his　dirty　robe；　padded　into　the　bathroom。　He　turned　on　the　shower；　stepped　inside　the　stall。　Someone　as　traditional　as　Itami　would；　perhaps；　prefer　the　bath　but　Nicholas　had　no　such　predispositions。
　It　was　good　to　feel　the　hot　water　on　his　body　and　he　began　to　soap　himself；　his　thoughts　on　the　day　at　the　dojo。　He　had　wanted　to　talk　to　Kansatsu　after　the　match　with　Saigo　but　that　had　proved　impossible。　Why　hadn't　he　mentioned　the　match　to　Yukio？　There　had　been　ample　opportunity　when　she　had　brought　up　Saigo。　He　shrugged；　dismissing　the　thought。
　He　turned　his　head；　curious。　A　shadow　had　been　thrown　against　the　frosted　glass　of　the　shower…stall。　It　condensed　in　size。　The　person　was　ing　into　the　bathroom。　He　turned　off　the　water；　opened　the　door。　He　stood　perfectly　still。　Water　beaded　his　skin；　glistening　in　the　fluorescent　light　of　the　bathroom；　which　had　turned　her　skin　opalescent。
　'You　are　quite　beautiful；'　Yukio　said。　She　was　naked。　She　held　a　bath　towel　over　one　arm。　She　did　not　offer　it　to　him。
　He　watched　her　face　for　any　sign　of　what　she　might　be　thinking。　He　thought　of　her　words。　He　saw　hunger　in　her　eyes。
　He　was　seventeen　and　she　two　years　his　senior。　In　terms　of　chronology　it　wasn't　much　but　now　it　seemed　like　light…years。　Despite　all　his　training；　his　careful　schooling；　his　cool　intellect；　he　felt　lost　beside　her；　as　if　she　were　some　doorway　to　a　world　for　which　he　had　been　totally　unprepared。
　She　took　one　step　towards　him。　Her　lips　opened　and　she　said　something。　It　might　have　been　as　mundane　as　'Do　you　want　this？'　He　couldn't　tell。　One　leg　was　extended　in　front　of　the　other；　as　his　had　been　earlier　at　the　dojo　as　the　beginning　of　the　interlacing　cross。　Her　tiny　ankle；　the　flesh　of　the　calf；　the　extended　knee；　the　long　sweep　of　her　thigh。
　Something　inside　him；　high　up　at　the　top　of　his　brain；　seemed　to　rise　up；　beginning　to　float　away；　as　if　someone　unknown　had　chopped　at　the　last　cables　holding　him　to　the　earth。　It　went　twisting　away；　diminishing　in　size　with　such　rapidity　that　he　forgot　that　it　had　ever　been　a　part　of　him。　'e　here；'　he　said　thickly　and　his　hand　reached　out；　brushing　the　towel　from　her　arm。　It　pooled　on　the　glistening　tile　floor　as　her　arms　lifted　to　him。
　'Yukio。'　But　a　breath。
　Her　breasts　were　high　and　round；　the　dark　nipples　long　and　already　very　hard。　Her　narrow　waist；　her　creamy　belly。　The　dark　mound　of　her　mons　was　highly　arched。
　Her　arms　came　around　him　and　he　enclosed　her　open　mouth。
　She　slid　her　body　against　his；　not　using　her　ha