Aimi laughed and threw a napkin at him.
They seated themselves at the table and Sam attacked his soup with gusto. He was ravenous. It was amazing what a good night’s sleep could do for his appetite. He hadn’t felt this rested, well — ever. It was sheer bliss to sleep for a few hours with nothing going on in his head. He felt renewed, invigorated, and was looking forward to getting on with his training.
He got through two bowls of soup and a platter of fried fish with rice while Aimi and Hikari were still on their first bowl of soup. When he’d finished, he looked up at Hikari expectantly.
“What’s my regime today, Sensei?”
Hikari set down his bowl. “First the gym. I want an hour’s strenuous workout from you. Mixed weights. Heavy and light. Then some sword work. Aimi will join us today. After that, both of you can go for a run.”
Sam nodded, feeling almost happy. He stood up. “Ready when you are.”
“Begin.”
Aimi thrust with the spear, extending her body out and shifting her grip so it was near the end of the shaft. The lightning strike came perilously close to lancing him. He parried hurriedly, bringing both training swords down, forcing the pointed tip to the ground.
Normally, Aimi wouldn’t take him off guard like this but his mind had been elsewhere. At the time, he was busy staring off into the evening shadows. Something was tickling the back of his mind; he suspected a demon was nearby, watching and waiting as usual.
He shook off the feeling and concentrated on the task at hand. Aimi deserved his attention and respect. Though not training as intensively as Sam, she had still spent many hours with Hikari and himself. As a result, she was a very accomplished warrior, with a speed and grace not unlike Sam’s own.
He enjoyed their training sessions together. She challenged him and if he was being truthful, he just liked watching her move. Her body was so beautiful and lithe that on a few occasions, she’d thumped him in the head simply because he was not even watching her weapon. Hikari had chastised him for that.
He still had her spear pinned beneath his own weapons and was curious to see what she would do next, content to wait. She didn’t disappoint him as usual. Always unorthodox, Aimi released her grasp on the spear and surged along the shaft. The kick, if it had connected, would’ve put a serious dent in his skull. At the last second, he moved his head fractionally, and the kick passed harmlessly to one side. He swept both swords up and battered her backside with the flats of the blades. Already off-balance with her missed kick, the blows threw her body through the air. She rolled in mid-air and landed neatly on her feet with feline grace.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” he said, grinning wildly.
She snorted and ran to the weapons rack, grapping a long handled pole arm — a naginata. Sam sighed. Aimi always picked these sorts of weapons precisely because they gave him trouble. She’d long since learnt that she was no match for him with short weapons and so now these were her weapons of choice. The naginata had a longer shaft than her spear with a wicked saber-shaped blade attached to the end.
Without pause, she charged, slicing the blade down towards him. Sam had expected this and raised both swords up in a cross block. It was a feint. Aimi dropped suddenly and spun on her ankles, bringing the naginata around in a low blow designed to sweep him off his feet.
He sprung upwards, more as a reflex action rather than any calculated defensive move. The dull blade missed his feet by a fraction. He landed and raised his katana up to block the blow that was aimed at his head. As he did so, he darted forward and placed the tip of his short sword against Aimi’s neck. She flinched and then somersaulted backwards. The naginata swept upwards, narrowly missing his nose.
She charged again. This time he met it full-on, bringing both blades together where the metal blade met the wooden shaft of the naginata. Despite the fact that his blades were blunt training swords, the sheer power of his attack was enough. The shaft of the naginata shattered. The blade of the weapon cartwheeled off to land quivering in the red soil. Aimi was knocked off her feet.
Sam dropped one of his blades and put his hand out to help Aimi up. She accepted it with a smile.
Hikari nodded. “Good,” he said. “Aimi, excellent technique and good improvisation. Sam, slightly sloppy work there. She almost had you. Your defensive work is still lacking.”
Sam scowled. Next to him, Aimi was unsuccessfully trying to suppress a giggle. Hikari was often like this — pointing out his deficiencies even when Sam thought he was doing well. He knew Hikari had his best interests at heart though. His job was to prepare Sam for the coming Tribulation. If it meant that his foster-son would survive, then all the harsh criticism would be worthwhile.
“Let us begin again,” commanded Hikari.
Sam scowled again. It looked like it was going to be one of those evenings.
The crowd cheered. Sam hurriedly (and somewhat guiltily) tore his eyes away from Aimi and back to the game. The Jacob’s Ladder Bucks were currently leading, having just scored another touchdown. Joshua, the quarterback for the Bucks, was having a great game. He seemed unable to miss the running back, his passes nailing his other player with pinpoint accuracy.
From his vantage point under the stand, Sam had a pretty good view of most of the game. He’d positioned himself in front of the cheerleaders, of course. Aimi had just started cheering for the Bucks and Sam loved watching her. Already, she was one of the better ones but that didn’t surprise him. With her training and agility, Aimi was always going to be good at sports.
As with everything she did, Aimi excelled. Academically, she was in the top one percent of students in the state and was in the track team that had just won the nationals. She said she only went in for cheerleading because she liked the physical activity. It made sense though, Sam thought. Because of her bright, cheerful attitude, she was also incredibly popular. At times Sam felt slightly jealous of her, but mostly he was just immensely proud.
The feeling made him wonder what he would have become if only he’d been allowed to live a normal life. Sports, he knew, would’ve suited him. He was bigger, stronger and much faster than most boys his age. Football was probably the game for him. He liked watching Joshua playing at quarterback, imagining what it would be like to be in his position. To hear the crowd cheering as he made a pass, to feel accepted by his teammates — they were experiences forever denied him. It was nice to daydream though.
Hikari was in the stand somewhere above him. He’d tried to encourage Sam to join him but Sam had refused. As usual, he’d felt self-conscious about wearing his hood and didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention towards himself.
The offensive line came in to be replaced by the defensive team. Sam noticed how Joshua proffered Aimi a particularly large grin as he walked past the cheerleaders. A surge of jealousy almost made him cry out. He found that he was gripping one of the stand supports so hard that he was denting it. From that one glance, Sam realized that Joshua liked Aimi. It made him angry. Very angry.
The crowd cheered again but this time, Sam thought he could hear another noise intermingled with it. A whisper. Something was in the back of his mind, teasing him. He’d heard voices many times before, although now, of course, only when he was outside the protective pentacle. But this time, there was something different about the voices. This time, there were many … and they were female.
He cast around in the shadows beneath the stand, trying to find the source of the whispers. He closed his eyes to activate his other senses. He could feel them nearby; even smell them. It was … intoxicating. He felt his pulse begin to race. Sweat started beading his brow, despite the cool temperature.