Pulling Some Strings (Dead)

[danzilla3 5018]

 

To say Shikai had been surprised when Ash had asked the shinobi for training was an understatement. 

The brooding teenage swordsman usually kept his distance from the other members of The Dead unless they happened to be on a mission together. When forced to interact with his colleagues, the boy was polite, but curt. Shikai knew that he had been pressed into service after the destruction of Tia, though he wasn't aware of all the details. But he was aware that Ash held a grudge against Cain; and made no secret of his desire to kill the Architect. Given all of this, it would probably seem like an odd choice on the Zombie's part to help the swordsman grow stronger.

But that was his job as a General wasn't it? To find the talent within the lower ranks of the organization, and help them to realize their full potential. Besides, he was sure that the boy would come around eventually. 

As Ash walked into Shikai's apartment, he would hear the Zombie playing an old tune on a battered guitar. The General would nod toward the empty seat across from him, and then finish his song before acknowledging his new pupil.

"Ready to get started?"

@amenities

 

[amenities 3775]

Was Ash not a simple fly, inching its way unwittingly along a web even as the strands entangled its ankles? Was not every Dead operative who cultivated his growth in the organization a spider, a prism of the greater beast that would ultimately devour him? Certainly not, Ash still thought. Certainly he could work his way up to the spider in the center and defeat him.

Ash knew they knew. He also knew they knew it was a hopeless venture. Despite the fact that he conspired to kill Cain, he was peculiarly never stricken with Feedback. Perhaps it was the fact that he never acted on Cain, or perhaps he was being lured into something. Something weblike, perhaps.

As he entered Shikai’s apartment, Ash felt through the darkness with his mind and ears. Shikai’s music tantalized him inward, eased the young samurai’s mind as he followed the sound to its source, to the room from which the Zombie General played. Before entering, Himura made himself as presentable as possible, as stern-looking as possible. He entered.

"Ready to get started?"

“I’m ready,” he said, untying his sword from his waist and setting it on the ground beside the chair before sitting.

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"Good!" Shikai grinned.

He reached over the back of the couch he sat on and retrieved a simple acoustic guitar; polished wood and brand new strings practically shinning. Setting his own instrument aside, the shinobi handed the guitar to Ash.

"First thing we'll go over is proper hand and finger positioning; teach you the basic notes, and get you familiar with a few exercises that will help you get a feel for the old girl before we move onto actual songs.

Shikai was interested to see how the young man reacted to his unorthodox teaching method. Would he protest, accuse the General of not being serious; or would he simply go along with the lesson, assuming that his teacher was wise enough to know what he was doing. Either reaction would tell Shikai something about Ash. 

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The more hints that touched Ash’s eyes and ears, the more shamefully illusioned he was. Instead of an indication that he might soon be doing the same, Shikai’s playing of an instrument on Ash’s arrival only served to set the mood for a willing mind. 

In fact, Ash was so caught up in what he thought this moment was that as Shikai reached behind his couch, Ash half-reached toward his own weapon. He was sure the General was going to pull out a gun and shoot him, or a blade and slice him or a wand and curse him, but instead Shikai procured a guitar and put it into Ash’s hands.

He had to pull his hand up from his blade— Ash’s hand moved such that it was clear he did not need to see his sword to know where he’d put it— and placed it clumsily on the polished wood of the stringed beast. He simply stared down at it for almost five solid seconds as the dissonance of his disillusionment dissolved and he took in the reality in his lap. A guitar. He looked up. Shikai. Down. Guitar. Up at Shikai again.

“Wh—” he began, his eyebrows scrunched up in deep thought, maybe his own hint of frustration. Then he visibly shook the notion from his head and placed the guitar in his arms unprofessionally, but in the general way a guitarist might hold his tool.

“Where do we begin?”

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Shikai's grin widened, "Right. First we'll show you how to hold her, then we'll get you familiar with the cords and frets..."

The next few hours would be spent teaching the young swordsman the basics of how to use the instrument in his hands. Everyone was different, but in the shinobi's experience it usually took most people about one or two months to get the fundamentals down. Ash however was an obviously gifted individual, and it didn't take him nearly as long as an average person. Indeed, Shikai expected great things from Ash, and so far the boy was showing him that he was not wrong to do so. Once the boy seemed confident enough with his grasp of the basics, they would move on.

"You're doing good! Now I'll teach you a few exercises that you can practice. I still use some of these myself, so pay attention!"

"Now you do it a couple of times, down, then up."

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Ash had trained so that swords, staffs, nunchucks and knives were as effective as his martial hands at dealing pain. His wrist, his forearm, his shoulder, any in many cases his fingers were all as adept as the next best swordsman— but not like this.

"You're doing good! Now I'll teach you a few exercises that you can practice. I still use some of these myself, so pay attention!"

“Okay,” said Ash, his tongue poking focusedly out of the corner of his pursed lips.

It had been a few hours. Ash’s fingers were sore and he had a frustration in his gut that threatened to boil out of his twisted lips any minute. Nevertheless, he followed Shikai’s instructions as carefully as possible. He started out miserably, but in only that scant time (at the expense of pieces of his sanity) he was able to conduct most of the exercise with fluidity.

Down, and then up. Down again, up again, he’d nearly gotten it perfectly. 

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Just as Shikai had expected, the young swordsman was a quick learner; and in no time at all he had perfected the exercise. He could tell that Ash was beginning to grow frustrated; likely still wondering what exactly the shinobi was playing at. Phoebe would owe him a drink after this lesson. She had predicted that the boy wouldn't last ten minutes before he snapped, and angerly demanded an explanation from Shikai. Ash had managed to go far longer than even his teachers estimate; which had been one hour. It was always a pleasure when a comrade exceeded his expectations; and he had a feeling it was gratification he would experience frequently as he trained the boy.

"That's perfect!" Shikai offered a round of applause, "I can show you some more exercises later; but I think you're ready to learn your first song."

"This is one of the first ones I learned; and you're better than I was starting out. Give it a try!"

[amenities 3775]

Ash was visibly amateur. Despite physical enhancement drugs that elicited physical and mental augmentations from his body and mind, Ash would need more time on this one. Not only that, but his frustration would bubble to the surface even as he attempted to keep timing with the rhythm of the song. He didn't give up though. For another couple hours they sat there, prickles running up Ash's legs as they fell asleep, but he stared down at the strings. His hands had never had to make such shapes before, clench a pick and direct it in such a way. They were amazingly sore.

Shikai watched him intently, though. He was hungry and tired, and his knuckles hurt, but he went on until late in the night. Finally, he could hardly hold the pick anymore and his fingers burned from rubbing across the strings.

"How much longer, sir?" he said exhaustedly, dropping the pick before his folded legs and flexing his hand.

He had not completed the song in their singular day of training thus far, but in most things he knew that pacing and continued practice were key. One could not a master at anything in one day.

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"To learn the guitar? As long as it takes," he chuckled, "But we can call it for tonight."

Getting to his feet, he gave his student a once over; noticing how worn down the boy was and mentally kicking himself for pushing him so hard. True, this was how he had learned almost all the skills that he had now; but this was not the same situation. Back when he was studying, he had been forced to push himself to the limit because there were people hunting him, and he needed the power to defend himself. Ash also faced danger through his position with The Dead, but not quite so imminently. From now on he would be sure to adjust how hard he pushed the boy. For now though, he would care for his student.

"Come on, I'll make you some dinner."

If Ash complained, Shikai would insist gently, but firmly until the boy realized that his master was gently giving him an order. Ushering the boy into his kitchen, he sat him down at the table and gave him a soda while he gathered ingredients for breakfast for dinner. Thirty minutes later, he had two plates loaded with pancakes, eggs, sausage, and bacon. Setting one plate and a pair of silverware in front of Ash, he sat down across from him and smiled.

"Dig in!"

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Ash didn't resent Shikai for pushing him so hard, nor question him for his odd methods of training him. He was obsessed with learning the skills that would push him toward his own goal, something all the Dead must have, Ash didn't resent or question Shikai but dove into the material. It was true though, he was worn down. Standing after Shikai's order without arguing, more than ready to get some dinner, Ash placed the guitar with reverence before him and stretched up on his toes and stretching his arms above his head.

Sitting with a yawn, the notes running through his head in a thick twine of mental noise that would continue his training even as he replenished his body. Even before the food came, Ash knew what it was. The smell of meat and the sweetness of batter wafted in, accompanied by the sizzle of the sausage and eggs. By the time the food came, Ash's mouth watered. 

He ate it with aplomb, chewing everything to a fine pulp so that his body could absorb everything. When he was done, he scratched his head and looked at Shikai.

"Anywhere to sleep here or should I head back to base?"

[danzilla3 5018]

The boy's appetite was voracious, and for a moment Shikai was taken back to himself during his teenage years; back when he still worked at the brothel. One of the few good things about that wretched place was that food was plentiful for the workers. It was a business calculation of course; emaciated shells were less attractive to potential clients; plus, it served as an incentive for the prostitutes to behave, lest it be taken away from them. Everything had worked like that in that hell. Any luxury granted was never for the happiness or wellbeing of the workers; but for the profit of the pimps. Baths were allowed because no one wanted to sleep with a dirty, foul-smelling prostitute. Clean clothes were given to them so they would look more enticing to the John's. If the bastards could have made more money by keeping them starved and filthy, they would have done so without a second thought.

Shaking his head to dispel the unpleasant thoughts, he ate with his student in companionable silence. No words needed to be spoken; the presence of another person was enough to alleviate the loneliness that often accompanied mealtimes. When Ash was done, he inquired about a place to sleep.

"That couch folds out," he offered, "Spare bedding in the closet too. Feel free to spend the night!"

[danzilla3 5018]

The next morning, the shinobi woke up, stretched, and almost walked out to his living room before he remembered that Ash was sleeping on the couch, and probably would appreciate it if his host was wearing more clothing. So he threw on a pair of pants and a loose shirt before venturing out into the apartment. Ash appeared to be still asleep; which wasn't all that surprising given how long they had practiced yesterday. What did surprise him was the sudden urge to pull the blanket up over the boy. He had never thought of himself as a very paternal person after all. Probably just a passing whim; no need to read too much into it.

Without waking the teenager, he made his way into the kitchen and began cooking them breakfast. It felt like a French toast type of morning, so he made that along with bacon and eggs. Once it was all ready, he set the table and went to wake his sleeping student. He gently nudged the couch, a small smile on his face.

"Breakfast time!"

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Ash dreamt of perfectly spaced fields. Separating each field was a wall that represented one fret to the guitar. A frightening bass built behind him that caused him to run from field to field, vaulting each wall as he went. The walls got taller and taller, spaced closer and closer, the bass behind him growing louder and louder, until Ash was running along the tops of the next fret. Soon, the walls began waving and split into six string-like paths that led off into obscurity. When he fell, the fields beneath him opened up into a great mauve pit. As soon as he saw that what was within the pit was his dead father, the pit became mouth as big as a mountain. A mouth belonging to Cain. A mouth that swallowed his family whole.

"Breakfast time!"

Ash flinched awake from the bad dream. His eyes settled from fear into focus. Somehow, the fear of his nightmare had further nailed into his mind the notes Shikai was teaching him. After eating, when they progressed that day, he showed an extraordinary understanding of the material they'd gone over the day prior.

[danzilla3 5018]

Shikai watched the boy go over what they had learned the day before with a great deal of satisfaction. Ash had managed to learn what would take most students a few weeks to fully grasp. It seemed that he had just as much potential as Phoebe and Cain seemed to think he did; which the shinobi had never really doubted. The boy would have been a Problem Solver, and if the one he had fought was any indication, they were no slouches. For now though, he would put such thoughts aside. It was time to reward Ash for the patience he had shown.

"You've done great!" he praised, "Now for the moment you've been waiting for. I know you've been wondering why I'm teaching you guitar, and I appreciate you trusting me. Watch closely!"

The shinobi's hands blurred as he wove together a series of handsigns while he called up the energy from within himself for the jutsu. A moment later there was a great puff of smoke, that upon dissipating revealed a clone of Shikai, accurate down to the last detail. 

"This is called a jutsu," explained the clone, "They function much like magic spells, but are activated by handsigns. I've just shown you one of the simplest, the Shadow Clone Jutsu."

A moment later Shikai dismissed the clone and grinned at his student, "So what do you think?"