I did it, I won. I have defeated yet another opponent! This was a battle that Shin considered worth his time, his opponent had been that could have won. That final attack had done more to Shin then he lead on, his entire body ached from the vibrations. And the attack hadn't even hit him!

He looked at his opponent on the ground, smiling evily, raising his sword above his head for a final blow.

"Pathetic." Shin lowered his sword, sheathing it and turning towards the mansion to complete his mission. He would leave his opponent on the street to bleed to his death, there was no need for a final blow, the man wouldn't survive.

He was gone then, sprinting down the street towards his target. Perhaps another fight would present itself in the mansion? He doubted it though. Oh-well, to defeat an opponent was nothing new to Shin, such was the life of a swordsmen, it was the life of the Tenken.

Consciousness hammered its way into Kensaki's head. He slowly came to wakefulness in semi-darkness. He was in a bed, bandages covering his wounds, with no idea how he had come to be there. From the look of the room he was in, whoever had given him shelter was not extremely well off. He tried to check his wounds, but nearly shrieked in pain as he attempted to move his right arm. Slowly, Kensaki raised his head to take note of his condition. His midsection was a mass of bandages; gingerly, he used his left hand to move one aside to find partially healed scar tissue covering a wound that was at least several days old. The door to the room creaked as someone entered.

"So you've awakened. I wasn't sure if you would survive, but it was the least we could do to tend your wounds after you tried to protect the Lord Ashigua from the.....the Tenken." The last was said with a shudder. "Here, drink this, it will help you sleep."

Kensaki felt a bowl at his lips, tasted the foul, bitter flavor of some herbal remedy as it was poured into his mouth. So, these foolish peasants had dared to interfere in the outcome of his duel? Cold fury at his loss of honor competed with a trickle of amusement that they had done so out of gratitude for his supposed loyalty to their lord. Had he been able to make a sound, he might have laughed, but as it was, darkness overtook him as the concoction did its work.

Weeks later found Kensaki Kashou limping out of Hagami, Darkstar sheathed at his waist, a makeshift crutch supporting his still injured body. He had always healed fast, but wounds this severe took time. A bit ruefully, he looked back at the scene he left in his wake. What few peasants had remained in the town now that the lord's protection had been forcibly removed cowered indoors, few daring even to peek out of their windows, none sorry to see their "hero" leave. The door to the small house he had been staying in stood ajar, the smell of death still lingering. The man and his wife had asked only one question as he had unsheathed his blade and Darkstar had begun its funereal song, almost in unison. "But why?!" They had not received an answer.

Kensaki could not be happy that he still drew breath after an opponent had left him for dead, but perhaps Fate required his continued existence. He would surrender to it. His encounter with the Tenken had shown Kensaki how far he yet had to go; he would not rest until he achieved a level even higher than that of the man who had defeated him.

Kensaki Kashou turned away from Hagami for the last time, moving slowly but with a new purpose; all the while, a small, whispered voice in his head laughed, and laughed, and laughed.