A/N: Hello! My boss turned crazy (pregnant in 5th month) and wants me to work double shifts. I wouldn't have a problem if I actually ENJOYED the job. *Sigh* Why don't people reply to my sent emails asking for the job they're offering? :S
In other news, I have a date limit to when I need to put in my report on practice - but one of my mentors decided to be very much unresponsive (I need his signature on the report).
So, as usual, I panic and write.

This is the scene that was cut in chapter 30. The Heat. I decided I wanted to post it anyways, as a tribute to Taichi and the song he uses. We don't really see Taichi fighting much so far, so I might as well show you what he's capable of. Remember, he IS a teacher of defense. His agility is better than you think. ^^

Listening to while writing (song this was done over): He's a Pirate - Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl OST

SUMMARY: When Aniya Taichi finishes his obligations for the day.

War of Wings:

TAICHI'S TRAINING

"A sword, a spade, and a thought should never be allowed to rust."

- James Stephens

Sayuri's radio was present in the gym where she was supposed to be training before the start of student torture. She was probably off somewhere, running or doing whatever nineteen-year-old Unspoken did.

Taichi did not like her music – it was rough and filled with dark voices that sung about bad things. He preferred soundtracks, sometimes not even seeing the movie in which it preformed. For this time around, he brought something with lots of string instruments preforming in it and a fast beat. He was wondering if he could keep up with it. Taichi was big and strong, but fast was something that made his control suffer.

He grabbed two short swords that were in the locked rack, only allowed to open at the supervised training. Most of the time, he was the supervisor, so there shouldn't be any problem. He positioned himself in the centre of the gym, facing the big windows and focusing on the sound of the music, waiting for the right track.

It came with short intro that was as fast as the heart rate of a cat and only lasting five seconds, before the drums hit and the string instruments started their fast upbeat. He liked violins and he especially liked this idea of a beat inside of a beat. The drums were hit in such a fashion that he almost saw the circles that sound made continued in the air. They were accompanied by the sound of trumpets. Violins broke the drumbeat in half – it shattered like a mirror, but in the same-sized pieces.

He thought it perfect for rotation of the two swords – one in each hand. First wave of instruments – his right hand, second – his left one, third – his right, and fourth – his left again.

On the fourth major drum hit, violins didn't pause for the drum; they peaked up three times, before falling again and so did Taichi. His right hand didn't stop as it did the rotation and it lifted the sword above his head as if it was a blade of the helicopter, before he started to lower it and focused more on his left hand that rotated the sword behind his back.

With the first quarter of the beat finished, he gripped the hilts tighter drawing circles in the air. At some point he stopped rotation completely and started it backwards – four major hand jerks, like before. Then forward again, and on the fourth higher pitched hit, he threw the left sword in the air and switched the hand on the remaining rotating sword. He caught the falling weapon, barely disturbing both rotations.

Taking two steps forward, Taichi hit the air with the sound of the music – first with the right, then with the left short sword, before he turned around and blocked the invisible opponent.

He rotated the right sword, feeling the breeze on his forearm and followed it with the left one. Then the sound of trumpets made the tone lower and it seemed only fair that his body would act the same. The right sword was stuck into the ground that was already filled with such small cuts. He lifted his body and rotated around it, his strong hands holding his great weight with little effort.

He landed on the ground and with one swift motion pulled the sword from it as well, as the song became faster and it seemed the trumpets found a good way of making his life hard. It was too fast for simple symmetrical rotation, so he swung them where they went, listening to the breeze the heavy things brought as they cut the air.

Taking four steps further, he held ground, ready for the next move while the short swords still danced to the music. The tone became higher and his right hand was first to capture the beat again. He smelled the metal mixing with oxygen surrounding him as if something was going to catch fire. The left one was good with a little slower beat and he kept it like that until the drums hit.

When they did, his reaction was the same as last time. He gripped both hilts hard and put the strength of his biceps into work as he rotated the swords simultaneously. On the third wave, he threw the swords into the air, one for each hit. He did a somersault and caught them one by one again with his open palms just as he straightened up. He then pulled himself even higher so his back hurt and grabbed the hilts, turning the blades so they were resting along his arm. In one swift motion, he hurled them towards the wall with dummy targets where each hit a bull's-eye. The two dummies needed fixing if they should ever be used again.

As the music stopped he panted, tiredness finally taking a hold on him. His body wanted water and he was just about to go get some when the door opened and a very angry Sayuri walked in, her hands in fists, her teeth gritted, her jaw set, her pose threatening.

"What's all this racket for?" She stopped when she saw him, her jaw softened, but her eyes turned into more than just glares. "What are you doing?"

"Training," he said. And he thought she was going to hit him. They had episodes like that all the time. He messed with her mood, she was probably listening to some music or even worse – he did not dare think about it for it just seemed wrong – disturbed her with another man. Punch in the face was probably something he should be getting ready for.

But she did not move closer. Her fists only relaxed and one hand came up to her nose, pinching it closed. She turned around and left, waving her hand back at him, "You stink, and you're all sweaty. Go get a shower or something."

Taichi blinked, running the back of his hand over his forehead. He didn't think he'd get away that easy. She must be in a good mood.

Some drops of liquid fell on the ground and he could feel wetness on his hands. He was sweating alright, but he usually never did … his body took care of that and Monastery was mostly cold, thanks to mix of different elements that wouldn't pass the Master's Shield.

He smiled at the thought that crossed his mind next. Sayuri in a good mood, me sweating … There was only one explanation for that. Kiyoshiel finally decided to meditate.

"You seem more apprehensive of this hearing than you are of battle."
"I prefer battle, actually."

- Teal'c, O'Neill (SG-1: Politics)

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