Prove Thyself (7)

Early on, Kage had theorized the blades were a result of the man's ability which created them from inside his body. Therefore, they would be tied to his very skeletal structure. But, only until the person was revealed did Kage find his theory was exactly correct. From his initial perspective the blades appeared to be just that, slabs of sharp metal akin to what would be constructed to fit the hilt of a sword; however, they were not made of metal, but a white malleable bone.

A slight dust sprinkled over it, appearing almost like sawdust, which would shower away when flung out from the body. Yet, Kage still thought them to be a malleable metal until the instant when one of them tore through his pants opening a wound to his calve. The touch was not the credible and exact type of slash that a sheet of metal could display but was crude, jagged and varied in depth with each thrust. Furthermore, these weapons came in different sizes and shapes sometimes missing their mark completely. Then, they would always be pulled back into their host's body from which they had come.

The pieces were not of metal, but the man's very bones. A greater discovery was found amidst this revelation. Each time the bones came charging forth from his skin it was never from the positions in which his skeleton was not. The ears and stomach never saw this action occur. He was not just contorting the bones to his body, but was unable to bend them anywhere else unless it was along the frame to those that made up his structure.

Kage, trapped in a perpetual dance which leapt him from one foot to the next dodging the pointed tips, had finally seen the brewing of a plan. Each of his leaps brought another death in its wake, weighing his movements.

The faces and their expressions would not leave the forefront of his thoughts. Their scrambled eyes, the foam then spittle that spat out in conjunction with a black blood. Cries accompanied by pleads that fell on his open ears created a taint to an inner solitude. A solitude he thought was nigh impenetrable.

"For the love of God, NO!" In the gut it went skewering the working man's small intestine. His only contribution left in death, a resounding 'splat' when the weapon retracted.

"Please protect us! Don't leave us to die!" The middle-aged woman sporting a copper butterfly hairpin screamed while fastening her fingers to Kage's arm. Instead of protection she would be flung from him with a speed she was unprepared to endure finding a steady decapitation seeking her throat.

If he dared take his eyes from his opponent, Kage would find himself tortured to a bitter end. The man's eyes turned savage, now dyed in a still grayness. Sweat soaked tangles of his hair that flopped about his shoulders as his body stomped to solid stances. With the strike of his hand three straight daggers flung forward deigning itself for life.

"AUUGH!" "AHH!" and "Urg" were released in subsequent order. Three more fell as Kage suffered a wound to the bicep tearing a small square of flesh from the mass. But, with all this bloodshed and death he finished his formulating plan to defeat the Villain.

Attack after attack had been carefully observed, perceived and evaded, giving more information needed in besting this man. The blades could only be manipulated up to three at a time while these blades had to be in close proximity to each other. In other words, he could not fire the first from the tip of his index finger then a second simultaneously from a knee. It must all be from the same hand, or same cheek, and so on and so forth. His ability was a limited one that could only be conducted under the correct circumstances.

Careful observation told Kage that the bones were not all that strong, only the tip of these blades were especially sharp, the rest dulled over time in their extension. When punched further down a distinguishable mark could be seen just before it was to be retracted and a new one would come flying. An obvious attempt to cover for this fact.

Kage suffered the mind to count the needed deaths before his plan could be acted upon. One last life must be taken before he could launch in to stop the Villain. Whoever that stood behind him would suffer allowing for the rest to live. To allow for the greater positive in this situation so full of deficiencies.

The person would take the blow then, using what was left of his stamina, Kage must charge toward the man, pivoting from the tunnel's wall to avoid the following blade. From there the man would position himself for a brief retreat without exposing his back. Throughout the course of this dance he had committed to, not once had the man performed any other movements. He did not blink, he did not breathe, why else would a person remain so vigilant and focused?

Therefore, Kage found the Villain's weakness. While manipulating the bones in his body, he couldn't perform any other actions until the bones returned to his skeleton. Hence why he could not blast out blade after blade from various locations until the first was already withdrawn.

Using this time between motions, Kage would exploit this feature to its utmost, tossing the same shard of broken glass that he had used to slit the tendons from Ponku, into the man's neck. Although he could block it with his arms that will stall the man further, granting enough time for Kage to close the distance then deliver a punishing blow to his chin knocking the man unconscious.

In his naked stature it was easy for Kage to size him up. He lacked more than Kage, in height, weight, and strength. If he could close that distance, it would be his fight to lose.

This was the plan, a plan that could only be executed with the loss of more life. A duty Kage thought he was prepared for since he had allowed it for the past minute; yet he experienced a torrential freeze on his muscles when he saw the girl that fell behind his shadow. Curled in a ball with dazzling eyes wondering to what her fate would be as dictated by him.

'A child, just the same as her. The same look and all as those flickering flames came to rampage.'

The blade came but Kage did not move. In his vision the choice was not one based on a decision from the conscious mind, but rather of the moral compass that resides in every soul. He had let what would amount to a dozen or so lives be lost this day, yet the feebleness of the girl was what had rung a bell in his head bringing him from the land of the decrepit to one of the living. Kage could not swear by it, but he believed that as the blade punctured his chest, spraying a mist of juice across the audience, the girl's tears fluttered on the backs of glowing butterflies. These butterflies released the tears into Kage's mouth nourishing him with a thick ambrosia so delectable he wondered whether he had been served a four-course meal within the hall of a palace. Lights ever so wavered to romantically survey his heart. Then, far across to the other end lay another, her face as cozy as it was harmed. It was of course her, because it had to be her. No matter the truth that embroiled his very being, his mustered courage would not abate such lustful sins.

It was truly a strange sight. But, then again, it may not have been a sight at all. Coincidentally a rash dream in the dimness of death.