This is the (nearly) official excerpt from Oblivion (release TBA).

“As the official referee of this sparring match,” Oka immediately announced, looking very proud of the fact, “I decree that Rosuke will be the winner if he can disarm Mai and have her at sword point. If Mai can defend herself past three minutes, then she will be the winner.” He strutted to the center of the room, swinging an imaginary sword to illustrate the fight.

Rosuke and Mai both looked at him with bemusement.

“It sounds fair to me but I think it’ll be more exciting if we up the stakes,” Rosuke countered, looking at Mai with a lopsided smile. She frowned slightly in apprehension.

“What sort of stakes?” she asked with suspicion.

“Time, to be precise. If I win—in less than three minutes, of course—I shall kiss your hand,” he proffered. “Think of it as a sort of favor to win from you.” She blanched, not at all comfortable with the idea of Rosuke’s lips on her hand. Just picturing it made her face heat up.

“Now wait a min—” she began to say but the lieutenant general interrupted.

“If I win in less than a minute, I shall kiss your cheek.” He smiled broadly as she tried to cover up the betraying flush of color on those very cheeks. “If I win in less than fifteen seconds, though,” he continued, “I shall kiss your mouth.”

“What kind of stakes are those?” Oka asked with a confused expression. “You should make her do chores or something.” Rosuke lightly chuckled as he turned to the young boy.

“You’ll understand someday, Master Oka,” he said cryptically.

Mai’s thoughts were buzzing around inside her head like bees in a beehive. It was all so dizzying that she felt she might actually faint and she was sure the heat of her blush could be felt from a few feet away. She could even feel the racing pulse at her throat.

“And what do you want if you win, Mai?” Rosuke asked, his voice turning low and sultry. He took a couple of steps closer to her, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. She pressed her palm to her heart, hoping that the pressure would slow its rapid beats.

By the gods, she was lovely in her shyness. He believed that she knew the facts of life but outside of the terrible night on which she had lost her mother, she almost certainly had no personal experience. He would thoroughly enjoy teaching her just how much pleasure two people could give to one another.

“I will ask you a question—if I win, that is,” she answered. Her voice was fairly breathless at the thought of him kissing her. It’s just a kiss and he may not even win. Her gut churned as she weighed her chances.

“What question would that be?” he asked, his voice getting softer. Mai glanced quickly to Oka, verifying that he was the perfect picture of childish confusion.

“I would ask about the details of your former curse,” she said softly, looking back to Rosuke. She caught the smallest glimmer of pain cross his face.

“Fair enough.” He smiled as he backed up, his feet finding one of two marks on the floor. She watched him with unease, realizing that she had touched upon a raw topic.

“Come, Mai, let us begin before poor Oka falls asleep,” he joked as he removed his sword from its curved scabbard. Oka looked at them with very little understanding, at least proving that he was still a child.

“If answering such a question is difficult for you—” she began, intending to take back the request.

“Granting a kiss is difficult for you, Mai. I can only offer something equally as difficult as your reward, should you win,” he reasoned.

Ah, yes. That was right. Rosuke had been present the night that the witch revealed her fear of men. It made her wonder how much his behavior had been affected by that knowledge.

Nodding in acquiescence, she walked to the opposite marking on the floor and drew her weapon. Rosuke took a few seconds to study her sword, the very same one she had used in the battle against the Damned One’s champion. While Vallen’s was serrated on both edges and his own a wicked curve meant for slashing, Mai’s seemed plain in comparison.

“Master Oka, if you would,” he said. Oka forgot his confusion over their conversation as excitement took over and he stood back, his face alight with anticipation. “You must count the time accurately, young master. Remember this,” he said. Oka nodded, raising one thin arm.

“Ready…” he began. Mai tried to stay loose but she felt her shoulders tense up as her body lowered over bent knees. She tested her grip on her sword.

“Set…” Rosuke studied her stance, noting where she was open. Her shoulders were too tight. Slashing upwards would disarm her.

“Go!”

He leapt forward, slashing swiftly in an attempt to pull the sword right out of her grip. Her eyes widened with shock at the intensity of his first swing and she twisted her wrists just in time to avoid losing her weapon, her feet backing up hastily. She silently chastised herself for her lazy, stumbling footwork.

“Two…three…” Oka counted, his voice neither loud nor distracting.

Mai didn’t have time to steady herself before Rosuke slashed at her again, his grip and angle adjusted once again to rip her sword away. She blocked him and tightened her hands, nearly dropping the blade but cleaner steps took her out of his reach long enough for her to get a better grip on her sword and take a solid stance.

“Six…seven…”

He slammed his sword against hers, pushing her back until she had to give and step back with him. Her teeth gritted with effort and she looked at the serious expression on his face over the blades of their crossed swords.

“Nine…ten…”

She realized then as she looked at his face that she would lose this spar in less than three minutes, perhaps even in less than a single minute. She might have thought that he was just trying to win to avoid answering her question but judging by the deadly serious set to his features, she knew that Rosuke was desperately trying to earn a kiss from her lips. He wasn’t trying to merely win in less than three minutes. He was doing his very best to take her sword from her hands as quickly as possible, nothing held back.

She didn’t know why that made her happy.

“Eleven…”

Rosuke broke away from her then, rearing back only to gain enough room for another disarming slash of his sword. Unable to maneuver out of reach even with that second of relief, she stood her ground and met his sword once more.

The hilt pulled free of her grasp before she could even tighten her grip, the sword clanging to the floor behind her. Rosuke stepped back and held the tip of his sword a good half-meter from her throat.

“Thirteen,” Oka said softly, his voice full of awe. The rumble of thunder met their ears and Mai looked outside the training room’s open windows to see the first drops of rain on the ground in the small courtyard of the barracks.

Rosuke’s sword loudly clattered to the floor. She looked back just as his mouth met hers and cried out in surprise, having had no warning. Her next thought, though, was of how much softer his lips were than she had imagined. After that, she could think no more.