Starlit Ruins

by Simon Woodington

She was ready. The entire week and been invested in something which wouldn't last more than ten minutes, but she was prepared. She smoothed out the long skirt of her formal dress, smiling at the feel of the cotton.

  Worth every yen, she thought, quite pleased. I'll definitely make a good impression.

  Her tail twitched, and feline ears swivelled about the bedroom, having heard the faint swooshing of unfamiliar movement.

  No one else is up yet, she reminded herself as she exited her bedroom and stepped out onto the carpeted landing at the base of the stairwell leading up. Well, maybe…

  'Sashi! Are you downstairs?'

  She strode hesitantly towards the kitchen, her clawed hands falling into an instinctive position of defense. She plainly heard a drawer slide open, and then shut, as padded feet slid across the laminate towards her.

  'Xalia!' she cried as her friend appeared suddenly, clasping her hands to her chest as her heart nearly took leave of her body. 'You scared me! Why didn't you knock? I've been up since five, I would have heard you!'

  The young brunette smiled, her hands clasped firmly behind her back as her friend's eyes travelled down the strange uniform. Upon moving upwards again, she noticed the unusual gleam of a collar which appeared to have foreign engravings in it. She tore her eyes away from it with some effort.

  'Where did you get those funky clothes from? Did Kei give them to you?'

  'Kei?' she repeated slowly, nearing her. 'No Asa, not from Kei. You like them?'

  She blinked, not sure if she really did. 'Uh, yeah, they're, uh… really weird. Like military or something… um… What are you doing here so early? Didn't I say we should meet at seven? At the school?'

  'Oh,' she replied, 'right. I remember. Seven. At the school.'

  Asa gave her an "what are you on?" look, and took her shoulder, leading her towards the living room. 'Forget it. I'll make breakfast. You can just take your weirded-out self and get comfortable. The Playstation has Motocross in it.'

  'Oh, I'm not hungry, thanks.'

  'Then why are you here? Forget your question sheet? I can print out another copy if you want…' she turned, and headed towards her room. 'That's what you get for dragging your… Uk!'

  Xalia regarded her unemotionally as Asa turned around, her face chalk-white, eyes wide, mouth gaping. She stumbled backwards, reaching for something at her back, then staggered over to the couch, over which she fell, motionless, and no longer quite so puzzled. The shadowling extracted the blade from her back, then plunged it into the back of the gurgling girl's neck, where it was left.

  'Sorry Asa, but you're just in the way,' Xalia began, gesturing towards Asa's room. Asa's eyes rolled uselessly, something in her mind clicking just hard enough to acknowledge she was dying. Her brown eyes caught the movement of the shadow-being tearing through her bedroom, dimly aware of the object of its search.

  'Trust can be deceptive, but it's not your fault,' she continued, gazing at the beast as it turned up empty handed. 'It's just the way things are.'

  The young girl, someone's former bundle of joy, expired with a faint breath as Xalia turned, muttering: 'One down, three to go…'

  @~%~~~

  Straggling into the dojo, ill-prepared, though hardly willing to admit it. The whole night had been spent in the interest of the debate to come. She hated them. It was not a matter of inability on her part, she was certainly intelligent enough to participate in a logical argument. The toughest part was avoiding anger. It was so much easier just to use physical demonstration to illustrate her intention. It just came so naturally.

  She could hardly see a problem with it. The method had preserved her for most of her life. Knowing that she could not, at least, not in school, not with the Kei-san present (at the very least), made her job that much more awkward. Stooping to fetch an escapee book from the column of a dozen in her arms, she startled as someone bumped into her. With a stark snarl upon her face as the stack tumbled freely to the floor, she faced her impending opponent. Her ire was pacified as she noted the presence to be a friend.

  'Uh, good morning Masurani-chan,' the red-headed Asian girl stated softly in Japanese, smiling weakly and stooping to assist her. 'Gomen nasai!'

  'That's okay,' she sighed, her voice heavy with the tension aforementioned. She collected a few books, then accepted the remainder the young woman handed her.

  'You look tired,' she said, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet.

  'Hai Ayla-chan,' she replied caustically. 'I was training late. My sensei insisted I finish the new technique…'

  'What? I thought you…' she gasped. 'Isn't black belt enough?'

  Masurani glanced about, her sky blue shoulder length hair shifting with the motion, noting immediately that they were the only students unseated. She headed off towards the nearest pair of empty spots. Easily done, since the rotunda was sparsely populated. Once the situation was remedied, she replied: 'No.'

  Ayla blinked at her. 'Come on. I know you want to make it in, but don't you think it's a little much?'

  'No way.'

  Ayla's eyebrow arched at that. Leaving her thoughts unspoken, she turned to the task at hand.

  'My sensei says self improvement is always worthwhile,' the blue haired girl continued. 'There's still so much to learn!'

  'Yeah, like he put it that way. Probably said something like: "Never stop training, 'cause you won't know who might come along to whip your butt." Right?'

  She laughed. "Close."

  "So anyway, who are you paired with?' Ayla asked gently, seeming to ignore that statement, skimming over her notes.

  'Naritha Hylaow, some little Chinese mouse,' Masurani stated with a derisive snort. Ayla gave a half frown at that.

  'She's quiet, but she's smart, so don't underestimate her,' she suggested. 'Remember the first time you tried to out talk me?'

  Masurani smiled and nodded, 'Hai. I finally got you in the sparring match afterwards. What about you? Who are you with?'

  'Haisha Walynn,' she glanced up at the stage, half listening to the already sparring voices.

  'I'm not sure if I like her, she gets so angry so easy,' was the terse observation.

  'Remind you of someone you know?' Ayla parried simply, gazing at her friend to drive her point.

  'Oh thanks,' she groaned. 'I'm way calmer than she is. Why? What do you think of her?'

  She considered the next combination of words over the course of an inwardly drawn breath, then set them free. 'I think she's way too loud to be very tough…' Ayla replied, a distant look wandering into her eyes, "…I guess."

  Masurani suspect for a moment.

  'Um, it doesn't matter. There's something else I need to talk to you about,' she began, her face drawn tightly by some unseen stress. 'Nasura-san may not honor our kinship.'

  'What! But that's not her choice!…is it?' she glanced nervously up at the short redhead in matching business suit of sports coat and skirt. 'I mean… um… what does it mean?'

  'It means they won't take any special considerations concerning missions, or tactics. It also means they won't provide the traditional armour and training.'

  Masurani groaned loudly. 'Great. Not only do I have to argue on stage today, but I learn that I'm hooped for kinship rites. Bloody frickin' wonderful.'

  'Gen Asa!' was the name abruptly issued.

  Masurani blinked at the false start, sitting back down. She glanced around at the lack of responsive movement.

  'Gen Asa!'

  Ayla looked nonplused at her friend, shrugging her slender shoulders.

  'It's not like her to skip,' Masurani noted seriously.

  'I always kind of thought she was a flake,' Ayla replied with a chuckle. 'I mean, she's part cat. I don't know very many cats that care about punctuality.'

  'Last call for Gen Asa!'

  ‘Yeah well I don’t know many cats,’ Masurani chuckled. ‘But, this is important to her…’

  'How do you know? Oh,' she smirked. 'Sparring partner.'

  'Yeap,' she r
eplied, lacking a usually appropriate grin.

  'What will happen?'

  'What?'

  'To her debate partner?'

  'I dunno. Maybe they'll just stick her with someone else who skipped, but this bothers me,' she muttered worriedly. 'Isanu didn't show up to class this morning either.'

  'Really? Wow, maybe she slept in!' Ayla laughed.

  Masurani regarded her with a stern glare. 'Come on Ayla! It's not like being a KnightsMage is important or anything!' she retorted, seeming quite upset by the entire matter.

  'You're right, but I think we should just focus on making the team. It won't hurt us really if they blow it by not showing up. Especially since we can't help it.'

  She looked further ill at ease, then bowed her head and sighed. 'I suppose.'

  'Sarle Masurani and Hylaow Naritha!'

  'Oh shoot!' she blinked, recalling something abruptly. 'Masu-chan, this will determine our placement and rank. So try not to lose your temper.'

  'Yeah? No kidding?' she huffed. 'Got any more wisdom for me?'

  ‘Yeah, don’t lose your temper.’

  ‘I’ll try to remember that.’ Masurani glowered. She muttered tersely under her breath as she took a dozen palm sized cards from the top of her seated books as she left to face grim vocal combat.

  @~%~~~

  Only further unsettled, fingers tightly curled about the fragile edges of the podium, Masurani growled at her debate opponent mere moments past the point of no return. 'Bloody hell he doesn't! The child is his flippin' fault, he can't shirk on his responsibility!'

  Naritha, a young woman just on the edge on childhood, long blue and silver streaked hair adorning her gentle and forgivingly attractive features, held a barely confident expression, to match that of her donned apparel: A loose khaki blouse and matching skirt of deep brown.

  'To disband such relationship not a crime… um, punishable in law. Were she underage…' she stated clearly, her voice laden with a thick Chinese accent.

  'Disband?! It's not a military establishment! It's his bloody fault!'

  Ayla shook her head with an embarrassed laugh, watching her drowning companion on stage.

  'There are, um… laws to protect mother… and to determine his…' she cursed faintly in her native tongue, searching for a word she could not find. 'Uhnm, ahh… oh! Accountability.'

  Masurani's fingers clutched the podium with such force that the edges cracked, bringing an uncomfortable look to her face, and a shocked one to her opponent.

  'I… oh mercy Goddess,' she whispered faintly, fear briefly flashing behind her eyes. 'I forfeit!'

  'Hai! Enough!' the presiding Kei barked, glaring starkly at Masurani. 'Return to your seats.'

  Trembling vaguely as she departed, she replied a fearful 'what did I do wrong?' glance to Masurani, who winced, and plunked herself down heavily beside Ayla in the bleachers.

  'That was wrong! You scared her into forfeit!' Ayla stated, gazing sharply at her friend. 'She didn't deserve that!'

  'I don't… I didn't mean…' she gathered her apologetic feelings and held them aside. 'I don't usually fly off the handle like that. You know me.'

  'I do,' she sighed, falling into silence and watching the next pair of verbal warriors. A moment later, she faced her friend with knitted brows, and declared: 'But I wasn’t your debate opponent. You need to apologize to her.'

  Masurani glared at her knees, after which her softening eyes met Ayla's.

  'She probably thinks I'm going to pound her,' she smirked selflessly.

  'Not funny.' Ayla frowned pointedly, 'Your reputation precedes you, neh?'

  'Uh, yeah…' she responded uncomfortably, gaze fallen. 'I'll be back in a couple minutes, okay?'

  Masurani had to wonder why Naritha stood rather than fled when she approached. Perhaps she had more guts than she had first determined. Or, perhaps she was just open to peaceful relations.

  'Hi,' Masurani half growled unconsciously in Japanese. Guilt overtook her an instant later. 'Oh damn. Gomen nasai Naritha-chan! I didn't mean to freak out on you on stage there I was panicked I'm really bad at debates and I just…'

  Naritha nodded expectantly. Masurani blinked, somewhat stunned, then took a deep breath as she placed her hands together palm to palm and bowed dramatically at the waist. '…I got angry. It's been such a rough week with all the training… Twenty-four-seven regiments since Nasura-san called alarm. I was mean. Really mean. Gomen.'

  Naritha's eyes whirled for a moment, after which point she smiled, and proffered her hand.

  '[Nihao!] I'm Waylnn Naritha,' she smiled.

  Dumbfounded, Masurani gazed puzzled at the girl for a moment, before returning her smile, and shaking her hand. 'Uh, [nihao] I guess. Um, I'm Sarle Masurani,' she replied, taking this as a truce.

  'Can be…' her face locked in dubious consideration, '…friends?' Her pleasant expression instantly darkening in expectation of refusal.

  Is she manipulating me? Masurani thought, strangely mollified by the idea. So what if she is? I think I like her. She's… nice.

  'Um, I guess. Why don't we go correct the result of our debate. You were way more clear headed, and I can just drop it if you want. You deserve it.'

  Naritha glanced at the raised oak stage, and Masurani's gazed followed immediately. 'Your friend already doing.'

  Masurani sighed, exasperated. Though, even as she watched, her torrential feelings washed away, and she felt herself turn and slip into conversation with Naritha, who it turned out, stumbled less frequently in speech when comfortable.

  'Aren't many people here today,' Masurani remarked softly.

  Naritha nodded curtly. 'Hai, I see this. Nasura Kei-san said only final girls here. None other.'

  'Oh. You mean the finalists? You mean we're it?'

  'Hai,' she said with a blink. 'If you are chose, what will do?'

  'I want to be the senshi of strength,' rolling her eyes with a warm smile. 'Obviously, it's what I'm good at.'

  'Hai. Yet, there are two. What will be other?'

  'I dunno, I never really thought about it. I guess it would have to be stamina, I'm fast, but not fast enough to qualify for speed. What about you?'

  'I will be heart and soul. I not fight like you.'

  'Like me? You do fight?' Masurani quested, interested.

  'Violence hurt many. I wish not cause pain. Fighting necessary, but very unfortunate,' she replied, avoiding Masurani's direct gaze.

  'What style? I was taught a combination… it's a little much to get into.'

  'Te. I was taught from very young and worked very hard to master.'

  'Very. I understand it's a very unique form. Uhm,' she hesitated, the question forthcoming awkward, 'when we argued up there, your Japanese was better…'

  Her eyes rolled prettily in consideration, and she reached into a pocket and pulled out her prompt cards.

  'My writing much… as you say… better than my speech. I speak English too, but very worse,' she replied softly, watching the movement of Masurani's hands. 'I see you fight. I see you with friend. You spar, you win.'

  'I fight hard, and train harder. Becoming a KnightsMage is very important to me,' Masurani stated seriously, dropping her clenched hands.

  'What style?' she inquired, leaning forward slightly as she toyed with a rallied length of hair at her shoulder.

  'Many things. I've been training under Nakio, and a friend of my Mama's. Mostly it's Silver Light stuff, though I have received some tutoring from the Shirinaui School,' she stated, her eyes casting over Naritha, shifting occasionally to the stage, where some of the elders had started to gather. 'Mostly energy channelling, you know.'

  'You train Silver clan when not together?' she queried gently.

  'I've been training long before the Silver clan dissolved. And since.'

  The young woman - nigh girl, in appearance - nodded with a serious look. 'What other…' she blushed suddenly. 'Pardon my inquisi..ivi…osi.. Oh,… um, curiosity.'

  Masurani smiled,
respite. 'Feh. Don't worry about it. It's nice to have someone to talk to about the martial arts. Ayla… my other friend… she's not a passionate about it as I am.'

  'Hai… I see. Your friend have much natural grace. She… star on foot?'

  Masurani looked befuddled for a moment, after which the statement clicked.

  'You mean "light on her feet," right? Like th’ way you say it. Cute.'

  Naritha bowed her head with a giggle. 'Hai. She seem faster than you.'

  'She is, when I go normal… uh, um… Power is my thing.'

  'As humble Master of Te, I learn never be hit, and not strike until last cause.'

  'I don't think I could ever do that… just stand there and let some guy swing at me, even if he wasn't making contact…'

  'What mean, when say 'go normal'?'

  Masurani averted her eyes. 'It's hard to explain. When I fight, I have two modes, mostly, normal is when I fight ordinary people. I can increase my speed by focusing chi. Problem is I burn off some major energy when I do that. It's kinda dangerous, but a real trip.'

  'Ah, I see…' she muttered distantly, somewhat set aside verbally by her near ramble. 'Do what must do. If not, no say what might lose. Home, planet, life. To choose, is not our cho.. um, choice, hm? But what you say is not so strange. I learn to work with water and chi.' She adjusted her skirt absently. 'Mostly, I sense evil, heal, and protect.'

  Masurani nodded, an elaborated thought restless in her mind.

  'There is more,' Naritha asked.

  A pleasant smile warmed her face. 'I wasn't going to get into it unless you asked…'

  @~%~~~

  ‘Looks like you've got yourself a new friend,' Ayla smiled warmly as Masurani accompanied her out of the hall.

  'Yeah. She's much tougher than she looks! Can you believe she's a master of Te?' Masurani gushed, still quite impressed.

  'What's Te?'

  The short turquoise haired young woman prepared an astounded look, which she tossed quickly at her friend. 'The Chinese developed it decades ago during the war, when they were banned from using weapons. It's a deadly hands only martial art. I'd have a bloody hard time trying to beat her in combat. In slow mode, anyway.'

  'That’s pretty scholarly of you, Sarle,’ Ayla prodded.

  ‘Step off,’ Masurani grumbled.

  ‘She looked so hurt though! If she knew…'

  'Naritha's a pacifist. One of the big things about Te is avoiding fighting. That's the first focus of the style. Defence,' Masurani stated, facing her locker, applying her hands to the bound storage unit. 'She's such a sweetheart. What are your plans?'

  'I know,' Ayla acknowledged, opening her locker with a clink. 'Well, actually, I was going to invite you to Aunt Mai's.'

  Masurani smiled plainly. 'Would you mind if I invited Naritha?'

  Ayla looked surprised. 'Okay, where's Masurani? What've you done with her?’

  Masurani could only laugh. 'Well, she shouldn't mind. I mean, the dojo is open to the public…'

  'Of course. Don't worry about it.'

  Slipping a knapsack over her shoulder, Masurani commented: 'Turns out she's also half Japanese.'

  'So?' Ayla replied dryly.

  'She's got some Japanese blood in her family, and…'

  'That's not what I asked. What does it matter that she's any part Japanese?'

  'I… uh.'

  A sigh akin to a hiss escaped Ayla's lips. 'That’s pretty crass, Masurani-chan. You know my Mama raised me not to do that.'

  'S’your Mama, not mine. Anyway, she's Canadian.'

  Ayla growled angrily at that. 'Masurani-chan!'

  Masurani looked abruptly apologetic. 'Um, I… Ayla-chan, your Mama-san is an honorable and kind woman. I…' her eyes fell. 'I just meant that she's used to all the different cultures and I'm not.'

  'Lame, Masurani-chan. Lame. You wanna be friends again when you grow up?'

  Masurani's eyes trailed along the floor as they proceeded from the verbal blast site. 'Masurani the Master of Morality strikes again,' she chided herself. 'I guess we'll be eating separately?'

  'You apologized pretty fast this time, so I’ll forgive you for being a bolt-on,' Ayla sighed. 'Besides, we need to discuss our senshi outfit designs. Unless you're going to refuse Mama's invitation?'

  'No Ayla-chan…' she half whispered. 'So sorry! I like her… I just…'

  'Just what?'

  'They're just so…'

  '"Just" nothing! How many Japanese people have you known are the same as the next?' Her red eyebrows curled downward tersely.

  'Well, none, really…' her eyes flailed to the doors leading to the outside world, embarrassed and disgraced, as they passed through them.

  'Why do you think another culture should be any different?'

  There were several turnings of a glossy black feminine silhouette before Masurani spoke again. 'I don't know. I guess… Dad never really… he didn't like the Chinese very much.'

  Ayla only nodded, noting the darkening of the sky as a flow of harrowing clouds drew over them.

  'It's simply a matter of respect. "Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth."' Ayla elaborated plainly, 'Just think about it, neh?'

  'Uh, yeah,' she sighed, betwixt feelings of guilt and honor.

  @~%~~~

  'There isn't much to mine,' she noted, pulling the dark blue weighted armlets over her wrists. Her orange gi travelled loosely over her distinctly curvaceous form, belted at the waist, laden with heavy, thick dark blue boots, and where the neckline plunged, a dark grey weighted tunic covered any discounting view.

  '"School of the turtle sect,"' Osaka read. 'Is he collaborating with Mai at all?'

  'No. He said he doesn't want to confuse my training,' she replied with an indifferent shrug. 'I don't know if I want to take on any more than this. It's hard enough as is.'

  '"School of the Sparrow,"' Ayla grunted. 'Nakio never suggested the use of weighted clothing like you've got! Though… I'm not much of a fighter.'

  'I dunno about that,' Masurani replied. 'You may not be as tough as me, but you're pretty frickin' fast. But then, you're a brain. Helluva lot smarter'n me. It's what we're good at. Doesn't have to be the same thing.'

  'Hai. It's just that I don't, well… you enjoy it. I do it because there's no other way.'

  'I buy that,' Masurani replied, 'and you can go ahead and call me stupid! Whatever, Ayla-chan. You might not go for it like I do, but you wouldn't at all if you didn't get a kick out of it a bit.'

  'Oh, really punny. I don't though. I mean, sure, I like the idea of actually being able to defend myself, but I'd rather not fight,' she elaborated, practising several streamlined motions of ken, the smoothness betraying the grace of a dance. 'I'm no white rabbit.'

  'I never enjoyed violence much either baby,' Osaka admonished wistfully. 'Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Why don't you two wash up.'

  'Sure, me too,' Masurani smirked. 'Though mine hardly recommended the use of books.'

  ‘That’s not hard to believe!’ Ayla remarked from the hallway.

  The Apollo house spoke calmly, though pointedly, and plainly. As did those who dwelled therein. Ayla knew that Masurani was not one for words, and wondered exactly how intelligent this young half-Japanese girl was. Another intellectual sparring partner would hardly hurt her. Of course, the hope of finding a new friend struck her as well. As Ayla's thoughts nearly simultaneously carved this path of thoughts, the rapid, dull beating of a minuscule bell battled for her attention.

  'Ayla! Phone!'

  She sat forward on her bed and grasped the top of a deep black cat shaped phone, and drew the receiver to her ear.

  'Hai - Ayla. Oh, hai… No, Masurani's kinda busy… And no, that's tonight… it's my Aunt, Naritha,' a pause. 'We'll have the whole weekend.' Another. 'Yeah. I don't know if you'll want to show them up!' she laughed. Instantly, her face darkened. 'No, um, that's not what I… no, that's fine. Forget it.' Yet another drawling silence. 'You know where the "Yarrow Temple" is? Right. Just at
the end of the street. Big white building, can't miss it. We're being picked up at six.' She glanced at Masurani with a bemused smile. 'We've been friends for years… since… what?' A further gaping quiet. 'No problem. Sure. I'll see you then. Bye.'

  The click of the receiver drew Masurani's idle question forth. 'What?'

  'She's talkative for a mouse,' she replied, sitting back.

  'It's just a matter of finding the right people to talk to…' Osaka pointed out, poking her head inside the door. 'Dinner's ready. Why don't you to come down and eat before Naritha gets here.'

  'We should have time to spar before we go, right?' Masurani asked hopefully.

  Ayla grinned. 'Hai. I'm looking forward to it.'

  Chapter 33

  The Worst Become