2025-10-26: Gold
- Cutscene: Gold
- Cast: Miho Ijuuin
- Where: London, England, United Kingdom
- OOC Date: October 26, 2025
- IC Date: Wednesday, August 1, 2012
- Summary: In London, the Olympics stretch on...
Step. Step. Step-thrust.
Step. Parry--riposte.
Step.
Miho Ijuuin cannot avoid /all/ hits at this level of competition, but she can make hers strike first. Against the top competitors in the world, the sabre fencer more than holds her own--she dominates. And every slash is devoted to one person in the audience, and one almost-person with her.
And so, after the meet...
"Miho," the reporter says, holding her microphone as she looks to the Japanese fencer before her. "You just won gold in the womens' sabre individuals for the second Olympics in a row! How does it feel?"
"I am honored to be able to compete for Japan," Miho says smoothly. "It's the support of my teammates and loved ones that helped me to do my best here." Sweat dapples Miho's forehead, her green hair short and free of the helmet now. A small, pleased smile rests on her face.
"...Last time, you mentioned you were looking for your best friend, Yua. Did you ever find her, Miho?" The reporter continues, presenting the microphone to Miho again.
"I did. Her cheers in the audience today propelled me onward. I'm thrilled to have her back beyond words. But I'd like to focus on fencing today. Our beautiful sport has many amazing competitors today; I've never faced such a challenge." Compeltely calm, Miho's English is quite good. She doesn't need the translator.
"Yes, your opponents were quite fierce! And yet you triumphed! Well, everyone, that's Miho Ijuuin, gold medalist! Next we have..."
The story moves on--but soon is the women's /team/ match...
-=-=-
"...So," a male voice says, high in the Ijuuin boardroom in which he and a number of other men sit. "She got us another Gold."
"So she did," another replies.
"I had no doubt," says the Patriarch.
"But she's thinking about personal matters already," one says.
"The plan we have," the last adds, "Should be sufficient."
"...Indeed," says the Patriarch. "My daughter should be given our best."
"Our best," the first says. "...Indeed." He folds his hands, and waits.