"Finally we meet. No distractions this time."
Gourry nodded. "This time it'll be settled."
Both men stepped to the warm concrete edge of the pool. The chlorine blue battlefield glittered beneath the summer sky, glacially inviting. Gourry and Zangulus - neither of them could quite remember just how their fierce competition (sword-fighting) had evolved to swimming, but neither felt like questioning it either. So great was their anticipation to prove their great skill at it.
Zangulus pulled a pair of goggles off his forehead and fixed them over his eyes, never once breaking Gourry's intense gaze. "No girlfriends to interrupt this time," he said.
"No," said Gourry. "And no pesky lifeguards either."
Despite the cool breeze that caressed his showered, pearlescent skin, Gourry felt himself start to sweat. Something missing - ah! A return volley. "Okay. Ten full laps around the pool. Agreed?"
"Agreed," replied Zangulus. A smirk spread across his face, as the breeze picked up a stray lock of dark curly hair.
Gourry wondered at him. He'd never seen Zangulus in simple swimming trunks before, and perhaps it was because he didn't expect Zangulus' skin to have such an even bronze color all over. Apparently, his scarecrow's hat really protected that rakishly handsome face of his from relentless sun, as from tiptop to his toes, Zangulus' dusky complexion was flawless.
Soundlessly, in his mind, Gourry's old sword master's voice began to scream. He promised to get around to listening, as he noted with some interest that Zangulus just hooked his thumbs into the waistline of his wet, clinging trunks...
But sensei wouldn't be ignored. "AND IN THE FOREST, THERE WAS A SMALL HUT!!"
So before Gourry could even start to imagine Zangulus' hard-on, he tackled him, plunging into the water and holding the other swordsman close to his chest until they broke surface.
"DAMN YOU! Get offa me, I was just kiddin'!!" Zangulus spluttered.
But Gourry was already swimming away, slipping through the disturbed waters quickly and easily.
People have been asking me about this, and maybe I should make a note at the beginning of this piece. When I get around to writing, I will. Most definitely. You can count on me. ^^;
Okay, the deal is this: I heard a story once about an old man who decides that a kendou dojo is where he'd like to stay for the night. Now it was customary for travellers to be challenged to a token match for lodging, and the master of this dojo offered his younger students for that match. The old man shook his head no, and said he'd like to fight the master himself. The master was a little hesitant, but he was sure enough of his own skill that he needn't worry about hurting the old man. So they squared off. After they had bowed in readiness, the old man started to talk.
"Once upon a time, there was a forest. And in that forest, there was a small hut."
The master then threw down his sword in defeat. It's because he allowed himself to get distracted, he explained to his students. Rather than staying in the moment of the fight, he listened to a story. (That little bit right there was a story? =P) N-E-Wayz, so that's the explanation. Jya ne!