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Preparation Essay/Short Story (whatever the hell it is) |
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I know I've probably driven a lot of the people I talk to insane because I've been stressing about a major test I'm taking in a couple of months, and I'm sorry. I apologize to them.
Anyway, I decided to put this on here because instead of writing a very dull essay for the writing portion of tests, I use a short story that somehow relates to the writing prompt. I wrote this one a while back and it earned the highest marking possible (4 out of 4), though I don't think it's the best I could have done. I've always been very criticizing when it comes to my writing, so that's probably the reason.
The prompt was something about friendship or something, so, hope you like it.
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One day, a pair of young men were practicing their combat skills, both bare-handed and with a sword. On each other. One, a sixteen-year-old Japanese male, was holding his katana in both hands, his hazel eyes narrowed against the sun's glare and silver-streaked black hair damp with a light sheen of sweat.
His seventeen-year-old opponent, however, was empty-handed, having lost his sword some time ago. His naturally narrow azure eyes were unbothered by the harsh summer light, his face and icy blue-streaked black hair untouched by sweat. He stood, gently swaying with the soft breeze, lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready for an attack.
"Kashaku-san, can we stop now? I'm getting tired, and my movements are getting slower while yours are getting faster."
"I thought you wanted to be a ninja, Jiyuu-san. A good ninja is always ready for anything, always ready for a death match if it will benefit his team."
"This coming from an assassin who'd turn on his own in the blink of an eye," the Japanese boy muttered, wiping some sweat off his brow. He gave it one more shot, though, and shot Kashaku his patented 'adorable' look, only to be met with a cool, blank stare.
Just barely restraining a sigh, he resigned himself to his fate of completing his training. Hey, he may be hopelessly in love with his trainer, but man, Kashaku was being more of a jerk than usual.
He threw himself into a headlong attack, knowing it was futile, even before Kashaku feinted left and rolled right, bringing his left leg up in a kick to press his foot against Jiyuu's blade, effectively knocking the weapon away and sending it flying to land some fifty feet away.
Jiyuu didn't pause, just kept his attack going, tackling Kashaku in a desperate attempt to end things. He managed to pin a slightly stunned Kashaku beneath him, straddling his waist with his hands clamped around Kashaku's wrists, held against the ground above his head.
Kashaku's features swiftly took on a pained look, and he turned his head to cast his gaze on a flowering cherry tree to his left. "Jiyuu-kun, you're hurting me," he said softly, a small tear sparkling at the corner his eye.
Jiyuu's grip loosened immediately. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"
Suddenly, Jiyuu found their positions reversed, though he was now sprawled on his stomach, his arms twisted against his back and the sharp, gleaming point of a silver knife poised to slice into his jugular vein.
In the split second that had passed, he'd seen Kashaku's pained face twist into a triumphant smirk as he mentally berated himself for falling for that ploy. Again.
"I win," Kashaku murmured softly in Jiyuu's ear. He lifted himself up, sliding his dagger back into the sheath strapped on his right thigh as Jiyuu sat up. Retrieving his sword from where it had landed by the koi pond, he asked idly, "Why do you always fall for that?"
Jiyuu watched as Kashaku moved toward him, sword already sheathed at his left hip. "Because you're Chinese?" At the arched brow, he sighed. "You know I love you. I can't stand the thought of hurting you."
"You didn't seem to care when you nearly sliced my shoulder open."
Jiyuu's eyes widened as Kashaku sat down. "I what? Are you okay?"
Kashaku bit back a chuckle as he began cleaning the wounds on Jiyuu's arm. "I'm kidding. Jiyuu, if you were a ninja and you fell for that, you'd be dead."
"Well that was nice and blunt," Jiyuu muttered, pouting while the Chinese boy wrapped his arm in a bandage. He noticed that even though Kashaku's hands were callused from the continuous pressure and friction of fighting, he still made sure his fingers were gentle as he took care of Jiyuu's wounds.
It was Kashaku's way of showing he cared, the one sign of emotion he could show as an assassin.
For that one small thing, Jiyuu was both grateful and content to have the Chinese warrior as a friend.
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Sucks, huh? I know you guys hate having people ask for your opinion, but I really want to know what you think. It'll help me a lot on the essay part on the test I mentioned earlier. So please tell me what you think I should fix, and I'll try it out.
 Lady Blood Rain · Fri Jul 14, 2006 @ 03:31am · 0 Comments |
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