One of the first things Kenji had done when he assumed command of the Daimyo’s Guard was have new katanas commissioned for every man.  Each guard had six katanas specially made by Kenji’s own armorer.  Kenji had never broken a blade and he wanted every man under his command to have the same advantage.

    However, he could tell by the engraving that these were not those blades.

    Good.​ 

    Gathering himself with a deep breath, Kenji readied himself for Boku’s next strike.  Seeing that instant’s pause as hesitation, Boku immediately slashed down with both blades.  If he had connected--even through Kenji’s armor--he would have cleaved the warrior in half.  But the swords never made it that far.
    Though it all took place in a split second, in Kenji’s mind, his next series of moves were all laid out in great detail.

    As Boku’s swords passed the plane of the center of his face, Kenji’s single katana sliced upwards, in a two-handed grip, between their advancing bodies.  The three blades met just above the top of Kenji’s helmet and Boku’s pair stopped abruptly, while Kenji’s continued its upward arc.

    Sparks like lightning flew from the clashing steel and with a shattering CRASH, the two blades on top shattered into thousands of dazzling shards, almost indistinguishable from the blue and gold sparks thrown off by the jarring impact.
    Boku, in his inhuman rage, was not deterred in the least by the loss of his blades and continued forward, lunging for Kenji’s exposed midsection, thinking to wrap him in a fatal hold and snap his spine.  But, even as the thought was forming in Boku’s fevered brain, Kenji was already past him . . .