Tricks and Thirst

Nine

Your kiai comes out as a rageful roar. You aim at the left side of your opponent's helmet, but it's a miss and your shinai strikes empty air: you used too much energy, and he easily moves aside. You stumble forward, stepping outside the match court. Sweat running in your eyes blinds you for a few seconds. Air leaves your lungs in a low hiss, and your head hangs low as a wave of embarrassment burns your cheeks. Thankfully, your helmet hides you from prying and judgmental eyes.

"Second penalty, giving an ippon to Tamura san! Winner in a match, two points to zero." Mori sensei's stern baritone broadcasts loud and clear your shameful performance for everyone to hear.

You walk back in the court stiff like a rod, manage to bow deeply to Tamura and Mori; it takes a lot to block out the baffled stares of all the other dojo members who watched the match... or rather, your disgrace.

"Practice is over for tonight!" Mori barks, not sparing you a glance. Everyone lines up on their knees, faces the main wall of the dojo where the altar is affixed below the roof, before bowing to the floor. Mori turns toward the group, and you all salute and thank him before standing up.

Emotions swirl and threaten to choke you. You turn to leave as quickly as possible; with any chance, you can dodge the cleaning part to escape in the hot August night... Right then, your nose almost hits an armored chest as a human-shaped wall materializes out of thin air. For all that you know, maybe it's exactly what happened.

"Where are you going? Take a broom, and then go and sit over there. We need to talk." You don't have to glance up at Mori's face to sense the heat of his glare. You can't trust your voice, so you bow again and join your comrades to sweep the floor.

It takes another good thirty minutes to clean the place and for everyone to leave the dojo. You wait, kneeling, for Mori to join you. Your helmet, gloves and shinai are in a bag, by the door. Your mind is a blank; you refuse to allow your thoughts to go over your sorry excuse for a match, or worse, to drift to...

Shaking your head, the pain stemming from your nails digging deep in the palms of your hands brings you partial relief.

When he sits in front of you, the waves of disapproval flowing from Mori are almost visible to the naked eye. His short silver hair stand out on his smooth and tanned skin.

"In all those years I've been teaching you, you've never, ever, performed so badly. Tamura san didn't win. You lost. You handed him every single point. He landed no winning strike, it was only penalties on your part. Your mind and heart are elsewhere tonight. Why did you even bother showing up? What example do you think you are giving to your kohai?"

"Sensei, I..." Your voice a raspy whisper, your head hangs even lower. There is no word, no excuse. What could you possibly say? He nailed it. You shouldn't have come. And why come back anyway? Everything is pointless. Nothing makes sense. It will never get better.

An exasperated sigh escapes him, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Don't tell me it's because Kijima san isn't here tonight! Is this about what happened the other night? Are the two of you letting personal issues affect your training? Personal life has no place in the dojo! You know better, and we've agreed on this. If both of you can't handle what we-"

"Oh, please! That's not it! Give me a break!" Right away, you bite your lip hard, unable to believe you uttered that. You fold down, attempting to hide your burning face, wishing you could vanish between the cracks of the wooden floor. So surprised by your lack of respect, Mori only stares at you, mouth agape.

"I... I'm so sorry." The pain you've been trying to keep at bay all night comes back full force now that you are gradually losing it. "My behavior is beyond appealing... and I shouldn't have come tonight. Actually, I think... I think you will not see me here anymore, Sensei." You glance up only to find his stunned expression. "I have to leave. The dojo. This town. Maybe... maybe I'll go to Fukuoka or Tokyo... or back to the States. I just... can't stay," you finish in a whisper, staring again at the floor, ashamed to feel your eyes and throat burn. No way you're going to cry in front of an audience, least of all him.

You bow low once again, and clear your throat. "Thank you so much for all that you taught me, Sensei, I will never forget it. Maybe, one day, I'll find it in myself to resume practice. I apologize for being such a disappointment. I wish you... all the best."

You can't stand to wait for his dismissal or any meaningless words he could offer. In a blink, you are on your feet, ready to dart out - to flee would be more appropriate - only to be brought back on the ground so quickly that you let out an undignified yelp. Two long and grey tails are wrapped around your waist, holding you down; you glare at their owner. This time you don't bother repressing the anger that's been consuming you for the past day.

"What are you doing? Let me go, now!" You wince; your rightful demand has come out as a whimpering squeal.

"Silence!" Mori's eyes flash gold, and there's a dark, thunderous rumble in his roar that makes you shiver in fear, but not only. "You keep quiet now, and only speak when asked questions. You aren't going anywhere, and you are certainly not leaving town." The powerful tails pull you closer until you find yourself almost on his lap. Thick and calloused fingers raise your chin up; you can't escape his hold, or his glare.

"Stop with your nonsense and explain yourself. It's not like you to be so distressed, even when you're going through some rough time. What happened since Saturday? Where is Kanako san?"

You wet your dry lips, and hate how shallow and quick your breath has become. Kanako chan... my love... Emotion overwhelms you, and this time tears flow freely.

"At... at her parents'. Locked up. They won't let her leave. She... she... told them... told them that she's got a girlfriend. They freaked out... went ballistic... She... only... managed to send me two messages... They're going to marry her off next week to... some guy they picked. I can't stay... can't help her... she's... she's stuck... and there's... there's no-no-nothing I can do..." Fingers twisting his dogi, you and your pride crumble down against him, wrecked by silent and painful sobs.

He stiffens, but remains silent and unmoving during long minutes. His tails don't release you, far from it: their grip even increases. "And... that's it?" His drawl resonates in his chest under your ear. "You are giving up? Giving her up, just like that?"

You gasp and recoil as far as you can, as if he has suddenly burst into flames. "What? What are you saying? No! No, I'm not giving her up! Never! I... I'll always love her, she is my love!" you spit, rage and despair sweeping your pain aside.