Post by gin on Dec 6, 2021 16:38:21 GMT -5
Song of the Yōkai: Project Underground Arc
Season 1
Episode 1
‘Awakening’
“You cannot outrun destiny..”
The words are spoken softly, by a diminutive young man standing in an almost completely pitch-black and empty dojo. The only spot of light - a single, flaming coal brazier - is barely enough to light up the features of his youthful, smooth face. The shadows encompassing him seem to flicker and coalesce, forming bizarre shapes as the fire dances amongst the coals.
He stands, palms pressed together, in front of the brazier. Over his eyes, a blindfold to rob him of what little sight he might have in the dim firelight.
“No matter how fast you flee from it, no matter how far you go, it always finds you.”
“For generations, my family has been afflicted, hounded by something they could not hope to understand. My father, his father, and the ones that came before them - going back hundreds of years, if not longer - have all fallen victim to the same fate.”
“Consumed by an inner fire they were unable to control. A power too great for them, which they tried - and failed - to harness.”
“I thought my fate would be the same.”
Behind him, something moves in the darkness; the tip of a bokken swipes through the air from his left side, aiming for his neck...
“I fled.”
...and he bends his body to one side, causing the training sword to travel over the spot where his neck was only moments before. From the darkness, a small grunt of approval, followed by a few, shuffling footsteps… and then silence, again, except for the voice of the blindfolded student.
“Away from my home in Hokkaido. Away from the harsh winters and brutal summers of my ancestral lands. Away from the spirits that haunt that island…”
“..or so I thought.”
“I traveled over the vast Pacific, to the United States. From the west coast to the east, I searched for some place where I might find peace.”
Another movement - invisible in the shadows, until the sword breaks the circle of light again - as Gin’s sensei aims another strike at him. This time, the bokken is set to impact the side of his hip...
“Little did I realize, there are worse things in this world than the demon which I sought shelter from.”
Again, the youthful Japanese man is quick to react; lifting his leg up to absorb the impact with his solid calf muscles. More steps in the blackness at his back, as Tonegawa shifts to a new position.
“America, a place of decadence, apathy, greed. A far cry from the unified society I had come from; a divided nation, with no center for its people to rally around. Whatever evil I had escaped by coming here, seemed a small thing compared to what I found.”
“Slowly, I found my way to the City of New York. The capital of the world, I’d heard it called.”
“It was true, for that place encapsulated the rot and deviancy of the human race better than I could have possibly imagined in my worst nightmares.”
“I lived, alone, on the streets. Begging for food, coins, sympathy… and finding precious little.”
“But it was not my fate to die like a dog, in the gutter, cold and hungry and desperate.”
“The blood that courses through my veins, my ancestral birthright, demanded something greater than a meaningless death.”
This time, there is even less warning; the blow comes faster, harder. An overhead strike that flashes through the dark, and it is only with a fraction of a second to spare that Gin is able to act.
He steps to one side, a hand coming up to grab the wooden edge of the bokken before it can crash down onto his shoulder. Tonegawa had clearly been aiming for the very top of the boy’s skull, with little - if any - force held back; he seems to have no regard for inflicting serious damage upon his pupil.
But it is only iron - or an equally sturdy material - that is capable of sharpening iron. There is no purpose in soft or sympathetic training.
Such a path leads only to mediocrity.
“Perhaps it would have been best if I had remained in Japan; for all my efforts came to naught, in the end.”
“But there is more than one way to scale a mountain; a thousand different paths to reach the pinnacle and plant ones’ flag at the peak.”
“I learned the hard way, that no matter what steps forward you take, they inevitably lead to the same place. Sick, starving, my death was all but assured.”
“Then he found me.”
“A man from my homeland.”
“Sensei Tonegawa.”
“How he located me in this vast cesspool you call a country, I still do not know. All that matters is that he did, that my efforts to hide from my destiny were a pointless endeavor. The Gods do not lose track of their quarry; neither do Demons.”
“I took his hand, I accepted his bargain; and in doing so, came to a fork in the road... A short, pitiful life leading to death, or the opportunity to achieve something greater. To succeed where the men in my family had all failed. To harness the potential of our bloodline, and bend this power - passed down through centuries - to my will.”
“The choice was mine. I only had to make my decision, and endure whatever came of it.”
“It is not an easy thing… but I have come to realize, blessings often take the guise of curses, to separate the dedicated from those who seek an easy path to greatness.”
“In acknowledging my birthright, I had come to perceive that which cannot be seen with the eye. While my ancestors allowed this curse to ruin their bodies and destroy their minds, I know what must be done to harness it.”
“Power only comes from practice… facing the strongest foes one can find; each battle - whether it ends in victory or defeat - is one more step up the steep mountain which leads to my salvation. Project Underground is the path I have chosen towards that lofty summit.”
“Judo, karate, jiu-jitsu… valid avenues of self-improvement, but ultimately too narrow. Too closed-off. Such ways offer little for one who seeks to become a true warrior; multi-faceted as a fine diamond.”
“Professional wrestling, however… a place where countless styles meet and mesh together. Men and women of disparate background, different training, all competing in the same ring.”
“I could think of no place better to train my body and mind, so that I might become strong enough to contain this beast which lurks under my skin.”
“I do not seek gold, or trophies, or even recognition; such material prizes are beneath me. Let those of earthly goals fight over such scraps, and in doing so neglect a higher calling. I seek only to strengthen my flesh, sharpen my wits, and become what I was born to be.”
“And now… I have my first real test.”
“Joseph Blaze. I understand you claim to speak for one who you call ‘Master’. In a way, I can relate; for I, too, have a sensei who has taken me under his wing. It takes strength to accept that you need guidance; only the foolhardy walk alone, blind and unaided into the wide, uncaring world.”
“A skilled hand requires one of even greater ability to train it. It is the province of the weak to claim that they have nothing left to learn; there is always someone greater, someone wiser, someone capable of forging the deadliest of weapons from raw, unharnessed material.”
“So I will not look down upon you for accepting your place as student, under the masked man you have chosen as a teacher. Quite the opposite; it is a sign of strength. Strength of character. Strength of will. For only those who are willing to humble themselves before their superiors have any hope of rising above the pack.”
“It is one thing for a sensei to train his pupil so that they might stand beside them one day, as Tonegawa does with me. Molding shapeless clay into a battle-hardened warrior.”
“It is another, for a master to simply use their subject to achieve their own goals.”
“Tell me, Joseph, do you speak with your own voice, or do you merely parrot the words of your Master? Do you think on your own, or does he choose for you? Is he preparing you to stand alone, or forcing you to use him as a crutch?”
“These are questions that only you can answer. All I ask for myself is that you do not preach your Western morality to me; for some things are beyond good and evil.”
“Your rigid doctrine will leave you unable to adapt, while I follow the Way of 1,000 Paths. And where you might break under enough pressure, I am capable of bending to face whatever challenges are in my future.”
“I will control the power that dwells in my blood; I will become the Nogitsune... “
“The eyes of the nine-tailed fox open wider with every breath. Every step I take only serves to hasten its arrival on this mortal plane.”
“I will not let myself be destroyed. The Kuromiya clan shall finally, at long last, be free of this curse which has hounded it for an eternity. My body shall become a worthy vessel for the Yōkai who seeks to be unleashed onto this realm.”
“For it is either that or a painful death, knowing I was not great enough to serve my true purpose.”
“Joseph Blaze. I wish to learn the worth of your Master’s lessons… but not with preaching; I seek to witness the fruits of his teachings, by gauging your strength where it matters most. On the field of battle.”
“I am sure you will not disappoint.”
The wind stirs again in the darkened dojo, as Gin moves to block another strike from his master’s bokken. He manages to raise one forearm into the path of the swipe, just in time to prevent it from striking his face…
...but that was not the end of the assault. What purpose is training if it remains consistent and predictable?
This time, Tonegawa follows up like lightning; dropping the bokken to the ground, he spins on one heel to level a vicious roundhouse kick at the side of his student’s head.
It strikes clean, and the impact is enough to send Gin reeling in the opposite direction, losing his footing as he sprawls face-first on the wooden floor. His head rings as stars spin in the darkness imposed by that blindfold…
“N-Nani…??!!”
Pushing his face off the ground, he mumbles in a half-concussed slur as he struggles back to unsteady feet. His previously confident - perhaps a touch melodramatic - delivery and bearing have been seemingly shattered by that kick, and his voice now more closely resembles the inexperienced young man he truly is.
“Ugh… come on, Sensei, that hurt!”
The boy’s master finally steps into view, darkness parting to accept him into the circle of light. Two long scars travel from the edges of his mouth into his cheeks; the flesh is seemingly only held together by two silver rings, pierced through the skin of his cheeks. Criss crossed scars travel across the bridge of his nose, and up - over his eyes - to his forehead. Fine, bleached hair blows in the slight breeze which travels through the dojo’s open windows, somewhere deep within the shadows.
His visage is frightening, harsh, even ghoulish; and his aura holds something even darker than his terrifying exterior. There is no sign of sympathy on Tonegawa’s disfigured face; simply a disapproving grunt, followed by two words spoken in a flat, heavily-accented monotone.
“Start again."