Blood... blood stained the earth. There was simply blood everywhere. Scattered droplets and the leftovers of bodies. Corpses cradled in the arms of ditches. Nothing was as it seemed. Even the shadows themselves seemed to bleed and cry. Sobs and screams could be heard on the wind and the sound of slicing flesh ripped apart any peace. There was nothing. Yet everything was going on. How could this be? Only shadows of the past. Specters that never faded away and forever stained the field. Dancing forever on the wind with the dirt and dust. Leaves and petals so contrasting; decaying on the wind and yet so vibrantly colored.

Crunching beneath her soles, the crisp autumn leaves were crushed. Amy found herself amazed; gazing forever at a village in ruins. The houses long abandoned and the streets deserted. Not a soul seemed to be here. Would there ever be someone here again? Well there was Amy. But aside from her? No there seemed to be none around. Nothing but the souls of the departed. Twigs and branches littered with old shingles and some shattered glass along the roadsides. The moon waxed and waned above beneath the eery dark clouds above trying to hide the dark sky.

Stopping her walking, Amy took a deep breath. The area smelled of death and decay. Her mind holding the images of blood and screams. History books told her what went on here and then it seemed the place had a story all its own. Amy found that the best part. Her face held the usual stoic glaze as she simply stood, chains jingling softly in the strong wind. It was a dark night and the ghosts almost wailed on the air around her. There were none though, simply the wind and her imagination. Her reddish hair danced and her green eyes pierced the thin layer of atmosphere before she closed them a moment. Hand on her partisan, her naginata, she twirled it and thrust the blade hard in the ground.

The hem of her skirt lifted gently before she could pull herself into a sitting position. Despite what she was wearing she sat cross legged and closed her eyes. Her ears and nose taking in the surroundings as her tongue could almost taste the sorrow in the air. The looks of her in this area made her appearance of almost a vampire from fantasy books. It was obvious she was not a native Japanese by heritage, but her words would be fluent. She was silent and simply absorbed her surroundings. A moment of meditation.

A male appeared. His coat holding himself to be sort of concealed. His right hand in a small opening in his coat while his left hung there like a dead thing. The coat was high enough to cover his nose and below to his knees. Nothing was visible except his silver hair and the Katana on his left side. He didn't say anything about the woman, just stood there. He wasn't the type to actually fight right away, instead, he would wait, and attack when the time was right, if provoked. However, if not, he would simply watch, and wonder what she was thinking. The stench of death still hung in the air and it was sickening. The streets of Kyoto, his former home, was the battle field that everyone remembered. And that many tried to forget. His body shifted to face the woman, his body not moving other than that.

Amy heard movements however soft they may be no one could completely mask the sounds of crunching twigs and leaves. Her eyes opened briefly and she looked towards the man's direction, well towards where she'd heard sounds. Her eyes looked narrowed and cold, but they held no anger or resentment; just suspicion. Her tongue moistened her lips as she analyzed his intentions. He could have attacked, but he didn't. That meant he wasn't hostile.. for the most part. Trying to sound friendly utterly failed as she spoke, "What are you staring at?"

Naturally she wasn't trying to be rude, she simply found it irritating when people stared. After all her looks earned her enough for people to stare at her for. In a way she herself looked like a ghost. Her skin and hair color working to make her seem really out of place among any crowd. Her chains jingled slightly as her body shifted and her hands rested in her lap. No one knew why she was here except her and by looking at her it seemed that even SHE might not know why she was here.

The male didn't speak. He simply looked at her. Her borderline rudeness was sort of, depressing. But, by his own right he HAD to respond. So, with a movement, he quickly faced her more so than he was. His voice spoke out as he let his hands stay as they were, although not looking at the ready, they were.

"My name is Kuro Hitsuji."

He said, his body bowed to allow one to show respect. Hos body shifted once more and he stood up. His hands still in their place as they were and never moved. That blade sitting at his left side, he was most interesting indeed.

Amy blinked a few times, her head once more turning to face the man. He was as well facing her and as he bowed and introduced himself, Amy arched a brow. He had answered a question she had yet to ask. He failed to answer her actual question. Nonetheless it would be rude to receive someone's name and not give your own.

"Amy." She said coldly and quickly. She didn't have a distaste for the man or anything, she just simply was a cold person in general After all she'd been through, who could really blame her. Her body shifted and she pulled herself to her feet. Her hair was falling straight against her back, red and just with a slight wave, the bangs of her hair falling in her eyes. She observed the man through her feline-like eyes and seemed to frown. However it wasn't a frown, it was simply a stoic glance as always. There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, running her hand along the the sides of her locks and keeping it out of her face somewhat. "What brings you to this sanctuary for ghosts?" Her tone dark and almost morbid with each word.

"I lived here my life, and fought in the end of war. I made it out alive. Perhaps, a duel, with these passed souls as our witnesses, to see if we truly deserve to stand here today."

He said, his body unmoving. His eyes unmoving, and finally, his hands simply in the state they were. He didn't mind doing some things, and it was more intent to fight than he otherwise lead on. Why you ask? simple, she was here, he was here, and she was standing on the graves of allies and enemies. Someone needed to see if she was truly worthy of standing here today, and by rights of noble standards, it was him.

Amy eyed him with a frown. He chad challenged her. Why? He had found her on some sort of sacred soil. Her eyes narrowed, her body tensing. Her hand reached and she wrapped her hand around the length of her pole. Her posture adjusting, as she could see he would insist on this battle. Refusing to be caught off her guard, she would prepare herself, keeping her distance a good three feet away. The way her body moved allowed her to press her weight onto the balls of her feet as needed. She wasn't one to fight, but there was something different about this time. "Are you sure you wish to spill blood on this ground?" Her voice was cold as usual, and her eyes lacked most interest. It showed something dark and deep though, her mind closed off from showing what she'd do next. "If so, than I shall defend myself."

The male moved his feet shoulder width apart and kept his legs spread a bit. His body now in the battou position, he was all set. His body charged forth, a few feet from her he disappeared. Soon after, a wave of sakura petals floated around the woman. What was this? This was the technique known as Chire. Ten attacks at once, and because of all of this, it looked like sakura petals floating around the woman. Soon after the tech would be completed, the male reappeared on the other side of the girl. His feet dug in to the ground as his body skidded to a halt, and his katana outwards, the blade facing amy as his back was turned. And with the last moment, the flicked his blade and sheathed it, waiting for the outcome.

Amy watched with eager eyes as the man prepared himself into a battle position known as battou. She was vaguely familiar with the style and shifted herself, gripping her pole-arm tightly, she quickly pulled up her arms in a slanted counter, the handle and blade long enough to deter the attack. Her slant aimed as a parry on the typical cutthroat move used by battou users. However she was surrounded by petals and a pain slashed through her body. Taken by surprise, she stumbled back and looked confused. "What... was that?" She whispered in a sort of silent tone. She asked herself more than anyone. Nonetheless she tightened the grip on the naginata and prepared to defend herself once more.

[exit lack of activity :/]

{Exit}