Did a flashfic exercise with my good friend Wolfshy http://www.furaffinity.net/user/wolfshy
I doodled up a picture, and he wrote a short story based on it. I couldn't be happier ^_^

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“Don’t you know it’s rude to spy on a lady when she’s taking a bath,” said Saya calmly while unleashing the hilt from the nestling grip of the sheath.

An overwhelming buzzing of cicadas marked the beginning of the summer that late evening, and so did the intensely orange sun, bathing the high-grass meadow in its warmth. Not a soul could be seen if spectated from the mountains to the north, none but Saya, half-dress in her kimono, kneeling at the shallow and slow river at least.

“I won’t give you another chance. Leave now or there’ll be dire consequences,” she added, drawing the sword completely.

With a gust of wind, her nostrils flared and confirmed her suspicion. Like most foxes, she was sensitive to the slightest change of smell. Iron, bamboo, dried-up leather, and even the fine silk threads holding all of their armor together could be detected by her delicate sense. Though, their stench alone was enough to give them away, and it was all around her. A dozen or so she figured, and they had definitely not come for the view.

She took their lack of response to mentally prepared herself for what was to come, battle. Saya knew their routines, she knew their tricks, and because of it, she knew it was only a matter of time before they appeared. Though, to most it would have been astounding how so many samurai could even crawl through the tall grass with barely a sound to their presence, but to Saya it was merely what was expected of her own kind.

She closed her eyes for a moment, noticing how the cicadas went quiet as if they knew what was to come, and just like that, hell broke loose. Like roaring canons they shot out of the grass from every side, swords held high as visible tokens of their intent, and the distinctive colors of mat yellow and blue adorning their armor, like her kimono, made sure to proudly display their true purpose of being there.

“Seize her!” screamed the carrier of the dragon-shaped helmet, presumably the new captain of the guard. “You’ve wandered far enough, ronin. You’re coming back to face your rightful punishment from our young lord.”

It didn’t matter what was said or done to Saya. Not even a dozen perfectly forged swords could break the emotionless and calculative demeanor peacefully fixed on her face, an expression she had gotten so infamously known for. They knew she couldn’t be bargain, bought, or threatened to go against her code, a code which the old lord learned the consequences of once he went against it, and because of this, they knew there was only one way, force.

From all angles they charged, each sporting a different stance, and grip on their weapons, all in an attempt to throw her off. Though, it was to no avail. Like a ballerina giving the performance of her lifetime, she elegantly maneuvered between each and every one of their jabs, blows, and strikes. She parried, dodged, and intercepted them as if it was all just parts of a grand play where only one outcome could possibly happen. From their brave attempts and albeit skillful attacks, she purposefully orchestrated counter offenses, bending her defensive moves into offensive ones. A carefully placed slash against the weak spots of the armor, pulling their legs with hers, and pushing against them at just the right moment lent itself to victory. It all blended together into their inevitable demise through the dance of the sword, and just like that, all twelve of them had succumbed to their fate.

“I’m never going back to that family again…” mumbled Saya as she ran the dull side of the blade against the grass, wiping off their taint before sheathing her weapon once more.

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