Description: A chance meeting as Hotaru goes down to the Southtown Docks to get a good deal on fish for the Kyokugen Dojo. Little does she realize the crusty old fisherman she meets... is Kentou's Uncle?! Truth is revealed of Kentou's origins and Hotaru and he spend the afternoon together. Mostly with Kentou carrying a hundred pounds of fish on his back! Both ways. Uphill. In the sun. Perhaps.. this is fate?
Hotaru is quite familiar with just about every nook and cranny of Chinatown. It's the only place around that feels so much like the immense, mainland nation that she spent her youngest years growing up. She was twelve by the time her family moved back to Southtown and China has held a special place in her heart ever since. It goes without saying that her style of fighting is steeped in traditional Chinese Kenpo arts and that her preferred manner of dress also reflects that longing she has for those happy childhood years spent in another country.
Often she comes through various areas of Chinatown in order to engage in various activities with the locals. A local King of the Hill champ, she also has been known to play tag with the kids in the street, watch street plays alongside everyone else, and occasionally act as impromptu security in escorting troublesome types on their way if they cause problems for a local shop.
But today's trip is not about having fun at all. In fact, it's all about having not fun. As if cleaning around the dojo and often doing laundry for the place wasn't enough, Hotaru frequently does their shopping too. Though typically she just tags along with Ryo for this task, now and then her instructor sends her off to do something on her own. Today is one of those occasions. The Sakazaki's are bargain hunters, by necessity, and while Hotaru doesn't really need to shop around to save a nickle, herself, she does honor their ways when it comes to spending /their/ money. Today's assignment is to resock the dojo's supply of fish. This entails purchasing a large quantity of the stuff and trucking it all the way back to the Kyokugen Dojo on the opposite side of town. On foot. Ah... always one to integrate training with chores, Ryo-sensei is!
The girl, frugal out of respect, asked around for places to purchase fish at a good price. It doesn't take long before she's told that there's a real deal to be had at the docks if she wants to head down that way. That means the walk home will be even longer, of course, but... well, a deal is a deal. Hands clasped behind her back, she makes her way to the busy seaside portion of Chinatown, taking in the mixture of smells, sounds, and sights as she makes her way through the area. Finally asking help of a man that looks every bit the part of a dock regular, with his dark tan, rough, cracked skin, tatoos a plenty...
Hotaru shakes her head, "Excuse me, sir. Ondori Fish and Bait... might you know where that happens to be?"
Even the roughest salty dog in this part of town knows who Hotaru is.
The hometown girl that made good. Or, home Chinatown girl, that is. A good portion of them have likely even tried to topple her from that lofty Hill, and even grizzled types such as they learn respect after awhile. More to say, virtually all appreciate seeing such a kind soul around, looking out for the kids and the neighborhood. Not acting like some high falutin' Sports Princess like some street fighters turn themselves into after a few months of fame and fortune.
The big palooka turns a crooked eye towards the little girl as he continues cracking open crate after crate of ice to dump in with the tub of squirming fish. A few others look up from their chores before going back to work, having no time to give directions. But still, the meaty fellow takes a look at Hotaru and thumbs over his shoulder, "'At way. Ol' Sak runs the joint. Sandwiched inbetween duh Tackle shop and Lao's Laundromat." Ducking back low as he dumps yet another openned crate out to the tune of crashing frost, "Can't miss it."
Although, now that Hotaru's found it.. Its hard to see it even when she's staring right at it.
After several minutes of further walking, the girl finds herself in the shadow of a small strip of stores nessled together inbetween massive shipping warehouses. The air is filled with the scent of fresh sealife of all kinds. Dockhands haul their cargos back and forth, mostly busying themselves with what appears to be freight and cargo. The fishermen all bring in their catches far, far earlier in the day than this. The skys fill with the screeching of seagulls, ever circling around for free handouts and fish parts from various shops along the piers.
'Ondori Fish & Bait...Shop' Is all but invisible. The only sign to an establishment that practically defines 'Hole In The Wall', is worn away with the 'Shop' portion of the sign cracked and dangling on a rusty nail. One can only marvel how this place could get any business at all, but a few customers come and go. Mostly older folk it would seem. That and regulars from nearby restaurants. The shop itself is barely large enough to fit more than four or five at the most in the front area. The place seems remarkably clean for how dingy and cheap the location is. Though the interior is dark, polished wood as if carved from the bowels of some old galleon and sandwitched between two other buildings and called a shop. Half-filled barrels of fish and ice can be seen within, as well as several aquariums filled with lobsters, crabs and shrimp.
Although, of all the sealife that crawls and squirms here, unquestionably the most disgusting is its proprieter.
"Rippin me off again, ya lilly-livered, bald-headed ape! GITTOUTTAHERE!" Shooing off his latest customer who toothlessly grins and bows yet again, all but racing out with his plastic bag of fish clutched close.
As the patron rushes past Hotaru, she can get a clear look at the man who MUST be Ol' Sak. A dwarf of a man, hardly a few inches taller than the girl himself, but much, much rounder. Staggering with a notable limp, the old grizzled fellow grouses and grumbles a thousand and one curses as he wipes his hands clean(er) on his pink-splattered apron. Squinting with one eye, the long-beareded fellow goes back his previous efforts. Yanking a cleaver from a nearby hook and whacking a fresh squid in half. Cleaning them out in record time before tossing them in a small bucket beside him labeled 'BAET'
If it wasn't for the comfortable way she navigates the dingy, rough parts of Chinatown like a native, Hotaru would stick out awkwardly here. Her clothing is expensive. Custom tailored, floral imprinted fabrics embroidered with scintillating, golden trim, her clothes are pristine white and sharp, regal blues. Coupled with her hair nicely, if loosely done up in her signiture pig-tails, the girl looks more suited for a calm walk through a nice, clean city park walking a meticulously manicured small show dog than standing here in this hovel of a store ripe with barrels of its product on all sides wondering what kind of haggling it takes to get that bargain she heard about.
The girl breaths in deeply, exhaling with a sound of contemplative appreciation. A bit of a clean-freak at her core, she finds it hard to not turn her nose up at the splattered apron of the short, hoary fellow. But her powers of politeness reinforced by a genuinely kind nature give her the strength to not look bothered at all That lasts pretty good up until the point the squid gets cleaved in two and some of its greenish blue blood lands smack dab on her nice clean white pants. She continues smiling all the same, though the expression seems slightly more strained at that point.
"Excuse me," comes the demurely polite greeting, inserted carefully at an opportune moment between the griping curses. "I am here to purchase some fish." She pauses, leaving it at that for a moment, hoping to have gotten his attention, "I was told that there was some kind of deal or special offer going on today..." She saw how the last customer was treated and wonders if maybe the aging proprietor makes up for any discounts in money by taking it out on people with verbal abuse.
The haggard fellow looks up from his cleaved bait as the little girl speaks up in her adorably proper tones. My, what a perfect little angel. Sak can feel his heart grow three sizes larger this day..
HAAAAAKK -PTOO-
The gruff old codger spits out the corner of his mouth. Right into the 'BAET' bucket. To which he tosses yet another shopped squid in. "Ah ain't got ner 'special deals', garl. Ya t'ink 'dis is Maguro Grocery downtown?" Pointing his slime-coated cleaver in the vague direction of deeper in Southtown. Although, in actuality he's pointing more towards China, but thats neither here nor there.
"Dey sells me cheap today, Ah sells ya cheap too." Scrapping the last of the shorn tendrils from his nicked wooden chopping block. Grunting as he tips over the empty bucket of bait catch, "BOY!" The stumpy dwarf bellows, "GITINHERE BOY."
Grumbling to himself, muttering about lazy, goodfernuthin little runts as he circles around his countertop and limps towards the first barrel of catch, "Whatcha want An'way, Yer Majesty? Cod? Bass?" Old, crusty hands grabbing the edge of the barrel and yanking it to an angle the wee girl can look from. Turning his squinty eyes her way, as if accusing her of breathing his air she isn't paying for.
Her eyes follow the arching trajectory of the 'secret bait spice' with a quietly shocked expression before coming to rest back on the face of the shopkeeper with a slow blink. "No special deals?" she echos back with a little bit of a frown. She's come quite a way out of the main shopping district to follow up on this lead, "If you have no special deals, then why should someone come out here to buy their fish?" the girl asks.
She may look like a real pushover, but she's also spent enough months hanging around Chinatown to know that the real deals take a bit of prying to get at. If it were her own money, she wouldn't so much as bother asking about any discounts, but when the Sakazaki's entrust her with what little funds they /don't/ spend on the dojo, she is obligated to try a little harder even if it makes her feel guilty in another way.
"A large amount of both. Is there a bulk discount?" Hotaru persists, trying for another angle. There's actually quite a few appetites to feed back at the dojo, and buying a lot means fewer trips to go shopping! Even as his accusing stare bears back down on her, she seems to maintain a just slightly assertive demeanor, not crumpling beneath the gaze as he might expect with the royal title he tosses her way. Ah... Chinatown shopping.
Is this little strappling trying to.. haggle?
The horrid man frowns from the depths of whatever pot-marked, broken moonscape of a heart resides within his apron-clad chest. Looming a fraction closer as he looks her brokenly in the eye and states, "..Ya callin me bulky, garl?" =.- Quickly adding, "BAH. Is ah mind ta make ya pay double!" Boasting as he points to the contents of the barrel, "Dis 'ere is tha finest catch oh tha day. Hauled outta tha brine wit sweat offa tha backs o' real sailors. Not 'em drift-netting sods ah sell to da Supermarket garl! Ya ain't ne'er tasted fish like 'IS!" Scoffing, "BULK discount. BULK she says!"
Stalking away from the barrel now in his rolling gait, waving his hand dismissively. "'Cause ahma bleedin' 'art ah'lls buy yer sob stary an' cut ya a deals 'en. Howza abou-"
The gruff man is cut off in mid sentence as..
Kentou slides to a halt in the middle of the already crowded showroom. His usually wild hair swept into a cap with an apron over his white work clothin. Splattered with all manner of fishy colors as he stands at attention, "SIR! Finished with moping the floor again, sir!" Huffing and puffing, clearly having finished up his previous chore as fast as he could before getting here.
"YA LAZY, GOOD FER NUTHIN BOY." Ol' Sak shouts as he bops the boy over the head with a nearby Cod, "Ah calls for yas and ya take all day about it! Get inna back an fetch me morra dat wee Cuttlefish." Thumbing over his shoulder dismissively.
Kentou bows quickly, "Yes sir! Right away sir! Right a-HOTARU!?!" The boy, finally snapping out of his workaholic daze as his mouse-brown eyes catch the Master Fighter. o_o! .... Oh crap. Cheeks flustering brightly, suddenly wishing he had the Super Power of hiding inside his own apron.
Ol' Sak frowns at the kid then looks to the girl again. Back. Forth. Back. Forth. "...WELL."
WHAP goes the Cod.
"Ack!" Kentou squirms, clutching his offended noggin. >.<
"YAS gunna lollygag about or introduces me?! Where's yer manners Boy?!" Sak storms before crossing his arms and tossing the Cod back into the barrel in one smooth motion.
"..Uh.. H..Hi Hotaru.." Kentou murmurs, eyes drifting his toes and staying right there, "...T..This is .. Uncle Sakana.." *._.*;;;
"A-ah, no, I-" Hotaru stammers, some of her composure lost as he seems to have misunderstood her... perhaps deliberately so, and now is threatening to double the price! But she doesn't even get her plea off and Ol' Sak has started to capitulate just a little. No novice to the haggling game himself, of course, he does seem to have caught the girl off guard with his shifting from impossible obstinance to just barely noticeable levels of amenability toward adjusting the terms of their exchange.
But he never finishes that sentence as the small little room is filled with another. In spite the cap and apron, Kentou is recognized immediately. There is that long, quiet moment of trying to put everything together. Why would he be here? Shouldn't he be out getting into some kind of trouble again? Her silent contemplation is interrupted by the sound of wet cod thwacking against the kid's head, causing Hotaru to snap back to the here and now.
His awkwardness is impossible to miss and it just makes her little a little sheepish in return, hands folding behind her back, feet shuffling a little against the floor as she tries to think of an easy out of this surprising development. "A-Ah, K-Kentou-" *THWAP* goes the cod again and Hotaru buttons up, eyes wide as if afraid of getting a thwack with the wet fish herself is she so much as catches the old codger's attention.
This leaves Kentou the burdon of stammering through introductions. Huh. Uncle Fish. The girl giving the shopkeeper a humble, traditional bow as his name is given. "Pleased to meet you," she states with a polite tone offering the traditionally Japanese thing to say when introduced to another.
Ol' Sak inclines his head juuuust a fraction at the introduction. Enough to be insulting but not monumentally insulting. Keeping his arms crossed as his shifty eyes draw back to the boy again, "AND?!"
Kentou jolts a bit in place as he figits with his fingers. Luminous eyes sliding back and forth nervously along the floor as he speaks up, "And.. this is.. Hotaru Futaba. An instructor at the Youth Center and a-"
"YahYahYah Ah gots it now FETCH ME BAIT, BOY." Ol' Sak waves his hand in a circle then shoos him off.
Kentou quickly bows again and races out of the room with his typically excellent speed. Zooming into the backroom to the tune of whirling cloth.
Ol' Sak looks at the girl one more time. Fixing her with a bit more of a critical gaze before exhaling slowly. Shambling back to his position behind the counter. Always keeping himself productive with something, the old curmudgeon yanks out the previous scaley bludgeoning instrument from the near barrel and lays the catch out on the cutting board, "Futaba eh? Ahs heard oh ya garl. Wasn sure till tha boy spelt it out, clear as day." His temper seeming to mellow out a fraction. His voice gruff but no longer quite as hard.
"He wos fightin' again. Wasn'he? S'how he met ya, garl?" Slamming the cleaver and beheading the fish in a clean movement. Brushing the severed parsel away with the flat of the blade as he expertly begins cleaning the rest of it.
The awkward introductions continue as not just Kentou but Hotaru herself is put on the spot. But then the girl comes to find out just where the young Kenpoist gets so much of his speed as he dashes away from ol' Sakana as if fearing another cod-laden strike might be incoming any moment now. The man certainly has a way of inspiring someone to put their all into being fast, that's for sure!
Kentou zips off, leaving the girl in the company of the Uncle. When he shuffles over to the counter, she moves likewise to stand opposite of it, watching him set up the latest catch for pummelling. "Yes sir," she replies as his gruffness scales back a minute degree. At the real questions though, Hotaru hesitates, looking torn as to how to answer. Which, really, is already an answer in itself for anyone who is even remotely perceptive.
The words come later though, the girl's hands clasped together in front of her. "Yes, he was. He took on most of my class two weeks ago," she explains, wondering if she should continue. Deciding that the chance to speak should not be passed up lightly, she adds, "While it was rather disruptive, no one was hurt bad, I assure you. Nothing more severe than a couple bruised egos, anyway." If this old fellow is somehow responsible for the boy, then maybe he would like to know that no one is going to be pressing any charges just now. The fish beheading graces her blue vest with another splash of nice, wet, fishstuff, and the girl's smile tightens as she oh so descretely takes a step backward.
As the news reaches his sun-burnt ears Ol' Sak grumbles more. A gravely sound somewhere between a growl and a mutter as he lops off the tail portion with a swift, decisive strike.
With a slow exhale the man bows his head, eyes closed. "Ahs apologize fer tha boy." Finally stating with as much humility as he can. Which is to say, barely any, but it is there. Descaling the flanks with brisk precision, tiny scales flying everywhere, "Hardheaded runt ne'er lis'n ta me. Ahs sells ya ah good deal fer takin it easy on 'em. Las time ah bailed 'em outta tha klink, ah tanned 'es hide fer a week straight!" Slamming the cleaver into the woodblock with a solid thunk of frustration.
"He's gon end up juz like 'es Dah, 'eh keeps dis up." Muttering to himself more than anything as Sak frees a filet knife, cleaving nice slabs of fresh pinkish fishmeat from the bone. "He don' mean nah harm. 'Es ah good 'nuff boy." Peering at the backdoor a moment, "Lazy, hardheaded, goodfernuthin.." His tone rebuilding into something approaching rancor before defusing with another sigh.
"But ah good boy."
The man's speech softens some and the girl begins to relax a little more, shoulders slouching just slightly as she listens to his tale of woe concerning the troubles of trying to keep a stuborn youth like Kentou. She can appreciate that to some extent, though lacking any parenting experience of herself. Sometimes teaching a class can be a small glimpse into what it might be like.
The mention of the deal is heard, and she is reminded momentarily of the reason she's even here, but her mind is elsewhere for the present and talk of fish and money can wait a little. "Forgive me for asking, but... ah-" She looks uncomfortable voicing the question that dangles in the forefront of her mind now, but the girl just happens to have a tendency to pay attention to mention of the parents of others due to no small number of issues in her own life.
"...what happened to his father?"
Whack.
The cleaver slices off a second fish head, as Ol' Sak begins the process anew. Its the old curmudgeon's turn to hesitate a moment. A familiar old story to him but, debating weither or not he should even tell the girl.
"He died." Ol' Sak finally states with a slight tic of his head. With that out there, he then goes back to the fine details of his work, moving with a mechanical precision that belies his whimsical corpulance, "Deaded in ah street fight, 'ey did."
The gruff fisherman looks back up to the girl. Squinty eyes betraying a moment of exasperation, but quickly buried beneath his abrasive nonchalance, "Ya'd tink da boy woulda took at as ah sign and quit that business. Juz like 'es Grandpah, Rest 'es soul. But nah." Shaking his head with a thick frown as scales fly, "Not tha' boy. Now 'es gotta prove 'es worthy. Outlive tha black mark on 'es honor, n'all that fodder. 'Ahs forbade 'em a hunnerd times ta fight, but 'ey keeps it up, he does. No trainin bah wut he half remembers watchin 'es Dah." Grunting again as he slides the fresh filets amongst the others.
"I've ah mind ta hobble tha boy ta stop 'em, if 'dey wouldna take 'em away. But than he'd larn ta fight hoppin on one foot." Snorting again as he affixes Hotaru with another look. This one vaguely sheepish, "Ah. Listen ta me, ramblin ah is. Ah's sells ya 600 yen ah pound, garl. At cost for yas troubles, best ahs can do an keep me shirt."
One thing Hotaru is good at is listening. Listening to the words people speak isn't so hard. Picking up everything else about their language, their communication, their meanings, their implications... that's a bit harder. It's there that natural intuition, exercised perception, and a small amount of instincts come into play. When he announces that the boy's father died, she merely waits quietly. She's gotten used to communication sometimes coming haltingly... Spending time with Acacia will do that.
But the nature of how he died elicits a blink. No wonder he worries about Kentou's obsession with fighting. So that's how he came to take care of him... well, there's probably more to it than that, she realizes. His training, woefully incomplete, thriving only on rote memories from a time when he saw his father fight. So her assessment was correct. Kentou's instructions were incomplete. He remembers the motions but not all of the meanings as he struggles to carry on the legacy of a man cut down too early in a dangerous practice.
"Thank you," she replies after a moment, the mention of the bargain bringing her out of her quiet reverie. "For telling me." she clarifies after a moment, a soft smile working its way into an expression that has otherwise been pensive thus far. "And for the discount." she adds, hand reaching into her pocket as she withdraws the money the Sakazaki's entrusted her with for this errand. "One hundred pounds, please," she murmurs after a moment, not sounding eager with the thought of having to carry all that fish back home. All part of her training, however!
"He's really good," she adds as she counts out the yen that she's added up in her head. "At, ah, fighting, that is." comes the qualifier. He also seems good of heart as well, but in saying that she would just be agreeing with a sentiment already expressed. She isn't sure if that's what he wanted to hear, but it's the truth, and the girl is perpetually honest. "A natural, considering the lack of training. I-..." She frowns a little, then shakes her head, whatever thought she was going to express dismissed for now. Her hand holds out the bills that she counted out.
"So was 'es dad."
Is Ol' Sak's comment on the girl's praise of Kentou's abilities. A low blow on a comment meant to be polite and complimentary, but this old salt isn't in the habit of barring holds.
Still, considering the near-accusatory tone to his words the curmudgeon regrets adopting it. Shaking his head again in a bid to move on, Sak continues, "Ah jus don' wanna see tha boy git hurt. Which is wot 'es on track ta do, right enough."
The dwarf limps around his counter yet again, wiping his hands upon his apron after finishing up the next fish, "Alright, Aight 'en. Hunnerd pounds ah.." A pause. Limping to a halt as he looks at the girl incredulously, "..A Hunnerd pounds?! Ya ain't naught BUT that yerself, garl! Wot they be sayin' bout Ol' Sak iffin ah let ya walk 'bout onna streets lahk tha? Tha boy'll carry et for ya."
Not even beginning to allow for a rebuttle as he turns and bellows, "BOY! GITOUTHERE!"
Turning then to Hotaru once more as he waits expectantly for the transaction as the girl counts it out, "Juz don' go tellin alla 'dis on the mountains or nuthin. Boy's fightin his dah's reputation 'nuff as is. Don't need a garl spreadin' it 'round s'more. 'll only encourage 'em." Accepting the bills without counting them. Either because he trusts the girl or was watching the bills she was shuffling like a cardshark. Probably somewhere in between.
The weight of his reply isn't lost on the girl, her smile waning her response nothing but silence in return. It is no small matter. Fighting /is/ dangerous. Even though she has gotten by in the circuits with no cripling or debilitating wounds, that doesn't mean the threat isn't always lurking out there. She's had many... very close calls.
"It seems like he's already made up his mind pretty stubbornly," she remarks after giving it a lot of thought. Only, he's doing it on his own. And that is not a path that leads to continued improvement. Maybe it would be better for him to not get better. Maybe if he hit a wall against which he couldn't progress, he would turn to the more domestic pursuits like being a fish shop assistant bound to inheret the store someday in the years to come. But maybe he won't ever give up and will just keep slamming himself against that wall, that limit, until it kills him, and Ol' Sakana's fears will be proven right.
She focuses on him as he balks at the thought of her packing the hundred pounds of fish out of here on her own, mouth curling up into a bit of a smile before opening in order to retort- only to get cut off by another call for Kentou to come back out here. At his request that she keep what they discussed to herself, Hotaru nods her head slightly. "I understand," she states, punctuating the words with a proper bow of respectful acknowledgement - the equivalent of giving him her word.
As Ol' Sak nods his head briskly, Kentou once again skids to a halt. This time holding a bucket filled with bait squid to be cleaned, "Here*huff*yougo*puff*sir!" Breathless as he had to run all way down to the otherside of the docks because his usual bait catchers already sold their stock for the day and had to go to Crazy Pete who came in late from the morning fishing because.. Well, honestly, even Kentou forgot why. Crazy Pete never made sense anyway.
The boy's gaze darts between the two, wide eyes betraying no small amount of anxiety over what could possibly have been spoken. But snapping to attention once again as Sak roars.
"BOY." Pointing to a barrel full of cod. In his guestimation it should be about a hundred pounds of fish in fifty pounds of barrel. May come out a little more, but she paid fair enough and promptly. Which is worth the difference in his eye, "Carry 'at for 'er."
Kentou bows once more, long braid bobbing behind him in the motion, "Yes sir! Right away sir!" Looking over his shoulder then to the barrel. ..... "..Thats.. thats like two hundred pounds?!"
"YE COMPLAININ YA LAZY LOUT?!"
"No sir! No complaining!" The boy holds up his hands wardingly, shrinking back a step, "..J..Just.."
"FER THA LOVE OF AUNT MABLE! Carry tha 'dast thing 'for ahs throws ya out on tha street!"
"Yes.Yes sir! R..Right away sir!" Kentou babbles nervously. Swallowing deeply he then takes a deep, calming breath and hunches down next to the barrel. Heaving with his weight as he manages to.. sorta tilt it in a way that can be easily slid. Sorta.
"Thassa good boy. Remind's me why ahs keeps ya 'round.." Ol' Sak grouses as he looks back to Hotaru, nodding his head, "Yous take care now." Picking up the bucket of bait to cut in his offhand as he begins to lump back around the counter, "Ahn if 'ey gives ya trouble, juz hit 'em over the head."
Hotaru has turned from labored chore-doer to passive customer all at the behest of the man who leaves no room for argument. He must drive a shrewd bargain when he wants to, she muses, realizing that she was way out of her league thinking she could have worked him down on her own.
Kentou returns and is pointed toward the barrel of fish that Hotaru is now the proud new owner of. Ah... it'll be good when she actually gets a chance to cook it up some. Maybe she'll make something special... tomorrow. Today she'll be glad to just get home in time for dinner in the first place.
As the boy tackles the formidable task with determined gumption, Hotaru glances over her shoulder at the old man. Like it or not, he's certainly helping Kentou out with strength and endurance training. Is he some kind of fighter too? Or does he just want to make sure that the kid can make up for his lack of formal training with backbone, durability, and alacrity, giving him the best chance he can get in that hard struggle he's taken upon himself.
"Thanks," the girl smiles toward Ol' Sak before walking toward the shop exit, blue eyes straying across the determined boy who fights so hard to right a wrong and protect an honor lost. "The Kyokugen Dojo is on the northern outskirts of town..." she warns as she walks out. Chinatown is on the south side of Southtown. *gulp*
Of course, the opposite may well be true.
Keep Kentou so bogged down with exausting chores that he won't have the energy to divert into his excessively reckless training. Or at least, perhaps that was Ol' Sak's original plan. Which, considering how relatively strong and fast the boy is for his age, has more than certainly backfired.
A few minutes later and the boy walks carefully down the road. Leaning forwards as the massive barrel, somewhat bigger than he is, balances precariously on the small of his back. Arms folded behind him for balancing support. Sweat continues to roll down from the brim of his cap, staring straight ahead but not complaining one iota. Oooh no. No no.
Kentou doesn't want to embarrase himself any further infront of this heroic warrior. The boy insists on carrying the barrel himself and not letting her help in the slightest. It is, afterall, his chore. His burden to bare.
Neverminding the fact that he's only a few blocks away from the docks and his knees are already beginning to protest. Erf.
"..No..*huff* ..sweat.. *puff*.. Got it..*huff*.. covered..*puff" The boy mumbles to himself, convinced repeating that mantra enough times will force it to be true.
Of course, all of the exertion is doing a wonderful job keeping him distracted. His burning curiousity all but demands to know what Ol' Sak told the young woman. Or vice versa! But the youth has just enough propriety not to badger the customer with twenty questions. Not to mention an acknowledged fighting superior and future rival!
The merry customer walks along, her gait suggesting that she's in no hurry, though that might just be because Kentou is stuck bearing the brunt of the work here, and she doesn't want to amble along too quickly. She does offer to take turns at one point, but the stubborn insistence with which he replies keeps her from trying again. No, he's definitely determined to pull this off on his own.
The route takes them through the length of Chinatown into the Southtown Village that borders it to the north. The dusty lanes give way to the tranquil neighborhoods of varying scales of wealth. Apartments, small homes, elaborate estates. Her own home is burried among the many rooftops, though it's literally been weeks since she stopped by it. Her real home now is the Kyokugen Dojo, especially with the little room she finally finished off to the side.
A stretch of the trip borders the mall located on the outskirts of Southtown Village and it is near there that Hotaru pauses, waiting in place for a long while for Kentou to be able to catch up. There is a small, walled in patio of a convenient cafe there, with umbrella covered tables and chairs. "Whew," the girl remarks, offering the bent over, tenacious kid a smile. "I'm famished. Let's stop here for a bit. You can leave the barrel right there." She points to the sidewalk just outside of the patio. A hundred pounds of fish isn't exactly a high theft item, it should be okay to leave it there.
Hotaru slips into a chair at a table, leaning back to enjoy the cooling afternoon breeze that blows past the small cafe. She smiles quietly to herself, her expression a little distant as she remembers a conversation she had with another friend at this very cafe a long while back.
Wobble.
By the time they reach the edge of the Village, Kentou is running on fumes. The massive barrel leans to and fro, with the boy stumbling a few extra steps to keep the whole mass from becoming a fishy disaster all over the street. Chest rising and falling like a piston as sweat literally drenches his face and collar.
"..Why does..Southtown..feel..like its..all.. up..hill.." Blurting out with his rapid exhales. As the girl finally begins to slow from her already slow pace, the boy leans up against a nearby wall. Easing his burden a fraction, but only so. With the way his knees are wobbling it's debatable if he'll ever actually manage to unlean from his current position.
As 'stop' is suggested, Kentou gasps weakly, "If..If y..you .. insist..I..guess.." As he sloooowly slides down the wall to set the barrel upon the sidewalk. All but dropping it the last few inches to the tune of clattering wood. The boy crashes down moments later, resting his back against his settled burden with his legs sprawled out before him. Head leaning back against the iron-bound rim of the vessel as he just -breathes- for close to five minutes straight. Giving his Hero Customer plenty of time to seat herself, review the menu and reminisce.
"..Fwew!" Kentou finally blurts, gathering the strength to lift his arm and wipe his brow with the back of his forearm, "..Someone.. needs to.. tell fishermen to.. stop feeding the fish so much.. goshdarn bait.." @_x
Did he just say Goshdarn? ... Someone's showing his age!
Of course, the boy doesn't make an immediate move to the table. She didn't say anything about him having lunch, afterall! The boy is used to being a beast of burden or punching bag, and rarely anything inbetween. Not to say one of those tall iced drinks he can see them serving to a few other customers doesn't look downright incredible right now.
The minutes pass as he catches his breath, using the barrel as an impromptu backrest, while Hotaru calmly looks over the menu though her eyes seem to not really focus on it at all. When eventually a young man her age steps out to take her order, having won the straw-drawing contest in the back room to determine who would be the lucky one to wait on the young celebrity fighter, the girl murmurs something almost inaudible to him, waving her hand at the menu and getting a nod from the waiter before he heads back inside.
"Don't sit over there," Hotaru requests with a laugh at long last, her foot reaching under the table to kick the chair opposite her out just a little. "It's too hard to talk if I have to speak over the wall."
The request made, she leans forward, resting her elbow against the table, propping her cheek up with a closed fist as she simply waits for Kentou to join her.
Having finally recovered a measure of his endurance, Kentou leans his head up from the barrel enough to blink his gaze into focus upon his escorted customer. His eyes belatedly shifting over towards the departing waiter just as the lucky prize winner heads back indoors before returning to the girl.
There is a moment of hesitation, as the youth wonders if he should be doing this.. After all, he's on the clock! Technically. Sort've.
But then, how many times does he have a chance to actually sit down and talk with one of the most reknowned fighters in a city reknowned for its champion fighters? That and.. really, The youth doesn't want to be impolite. Refusing hospitality is an insult, afterall! Or so his Mom told him once.
"Ah.. Sure!" Kentou blurts out a moment later. Fully intending to spring to his feet like it was nothing.. But as his joints let him know thats not in the cards, he instead slowly pulls himself up to his shakey feet. Bracing himself against the barrel for a moment before pushing off and tugging his now-off-white and sweat patterned working shirt back into place. Managing to sling one leg over the metal barrier followed promptly by the other, the boy then seats himself into the scooted chair. Exhaling in audible relief at the actual metal-wrought chair, both cool to the touch and worlds more comfortable than abrasive sidewalk.
"Why.. do you need all that fish, anyway?" Kentou finally speaks, curiousity getting the best of him. Considering her size its not like she eats nearly THIS much! Is she planning some kind of party?
The girl is nothing if not patient at the moment as she waits for Kentou to finally join her. After all, his sweat and aching muscles are sparing her a similar experience. It's pretty much cheating on her own strength and endurance training for the day, but considering how diligent she is about such things, she doesn't feel too guilty about that. Ryo-sensei will probably never ask, as long as the fish show up somehow, so she shouldn't have to lie about it.
At the question, she laughs lightly, glancing toward the barrel with a shake of her head, "I'm shopping for five... sometimes six." Depends on if Robert is over freeloading a dinner or not. "That's how many people live at the Kyokugen Dojo - where we're headed. There's Master Takuma, Ryo-sensei, Instructor Rodriguez, Yuri-chan, Mister Garcia at times, and of course me. You'd be surprised how quickly that group can put away a barrel of food like that." she shakes her head after rattling off the strange crew she lives with these days.
The waiter comes back out with two large glasses of red, sweet strawberry lemonade and places them down on the table, one in front of each patron. He glances at Kentou, then back at Hotaru with a questioning look. "Ah, I didn't know you had a kid brother, Futaba-sama," the boy practically chirps, his voice a little squeaky after having built up the guts to address the cute girl combatant directly.
Hotaru's brow furrows and she glances at the young worker and then back at the waiter, her initial confusion replaced with a faint, amused smile. "I didn't either."
The boy ooooooohs, nodding his head at the logistics as it all begins to make sense. But like any good answer.. it always begs a further question. The boy rests his arms on the iron lattice work of the table before him, finding yet another impromtu method of cooling down his overheating form. The names spoken are.. Vaguely familiar. 'Ryo' He's heard of at least.. But the boy has certainly heard of Kyokugen. Which leads to the next puzzle..
"But.." The boy adds, "..Thats.. Karate. Why.. are you training in Karate? .. You use Chinese Boxing like me.. don't you?" The incongruity of the two styles seems.. perplexing to him. Though, technically Kenpo has several Japanese sensibilities added to more traditional Chinese Wushu. A foreign analgam of a sort. Both stem from different philosophies.. Though they sometimes mingle, such as his own harder, close-fisted form of Kenpo.
Still, its an earnest question as he blinks up to the girl with those wide, bright eyes of his. His curiousity diverted only at the accusation of 'kid brother'. o_o! "H..Hey!" He blurts out, "A..am not!" Pouting in the waiters general direction. >.< Foo!
Although, his protests die away instantly as he stares at the tall glass of red lemonade.. All the choirs of Heaven sing in his mind as he watches the ice cold condensation run down the crystal surface of the fruity oasis. Gughuuughuuu..
The waiter, realizing his mistake, stammers an apology then scoots for the relative safety of indoors, leaving the two alone at the umbrella shaded table. "That's a very good question," Hotaru replies, a quiet smile now as Kentou's expression literally denying any attempt at ducking the issue if she were so inclined.
"It's true that most of my years of training were in Kenpo and that is still at the heart of my style now." She lifts her own glass from the table and begins to drink from it, blue eyes looking back at the boy over the rim. She hesitates now. Not out of reluctance to share the answer with him but because of what she now knows about his own history and how her explanation might touch a little closer to home with him than she would like.
But the truth is usually best spoken plainly, especially when inquired after so honestly, and the young fighter continues. "I was taught by my father and my mother. My father taught me how to strike hard, pouring strength into my attacks that most would not expect, while my mother taught me grace, balance, and control." An idle hand begins to turn the tall glass on the table, the motion not too smooth as it fights against the grooves of the iron lattice. She swallows then, her eyes moving from his to gaze at the innocuous glass. "Three years ago..." Has it been that long? It seems like only months of her life have passed since that day. "... my mother died and my father left and I no longer had anyone to teach me."
The glass is cradled then in both of her hands as she lifts it off the table. "I tried to continue my training on my own, but I reached a point where I realized I just wasn't getting any better. The lessons I remembered were not complete and I had no way of learning how to finish them without guidance."
She finally looks back up to the boy, a somewhat wry smile on her face, "Master Takuma was the first teacher willing to take me in. Most of the serious dojos thought I had no potential to improve - that I had reached my limit already and that training me further would be a wasted endeavor. Even Master Takuma was hesitant. He felt my flowing style of fighting would contrast poorly with the Kyokugen Karate philosophies of delivering strong, simple blows to defeat an opponent."
The glass is placed back on the table, not sampled from since the sip taken earlier. "But a martial art is so much more than just the kicks, punches, and throws that are learned. It is also discipline, strength, endurance, self-control, wisdom, and understanding. Even if I cannot further my Kenpo studies learning from Ryo-sensei, I can still improve myself in other ways, and in doing so, my Kenpo progresses."
After the impudent waiter boy is scared off properly, Kentou refocuses his attention on Hotaru clearly. His hand sliding over the metal surface and beginning to reach for the second lemonade.. Logic dictates that obviously she ordered it for him BUT.. She hasn't given permission to hand it over yet. Biting his lower lip as he fights the urge to just grab the glass and gulp the entire contents down in one quick pull. But... No. Must remember.. PATIENCE.
Besides, as Hotaru compliments his question he beams happily. Snickering to himself as he itches his upper lip bashfully a moment with his forefinger.
But that moment of laughter is short lived as Hotaru's story unfolds before him. A very.. Very familiar story indeed. His hand slowly draws back from the extra drink.. forgotten. Expression sagging as his jaw hangs behind closed lips. His gaze growing a bit distant, as if looking past the young woman and seeing familiar images of a young person crying at their mother's funeral. Grieving when they learned their Father wasn't coming back. And feeling so terribly alone, yet determined to keep fighting anyway.
The stunning revelation leaves him without words. Glimmering eyes falling to the surface of the table at the last. Forcing himself to say something for the sake of politeness, "..I..I see.. I.."
Maybe.. Maybe he really isn't getting any better either. At least.. not alone. Finding a teacher, any teacher, seemed to work wonders for her. Her skill is.. completely incredible. The fact that she is so powerful is proof that such a.. diverse learning structure CAN work.
She knows so much more about this than he does. Listening to her is.. humbling. All he really knows is punches, kicks and just hard work. And strength comes from hard work.. doesn't it?
But.. she also works smarter.
"D..do you th.." Mouth working just a fraction faster than Kentou can think. Snapping off that train of thought before it makes fully out as his mouth audibly clomps closed. No.. He can't just ask her that.
The story shared, Hotaru finally lifts her glass and begins to drink from it again, eyes focusing on Kentou as she contemplates the reactions she saw in the young man as she spoke. At his first stammers she simply nods slightly, as if acknowledging his attempt at politeness and letting him off the hook with trying to belt out anything further if he is unable to.
But then comes the halting words that sound like they might belong to a question struggling to break free before being caught short, trapped by uncertainty or reluctance to be voiced to the girl sitting across from him. It's hard to say if she even realized that he said anything at all, as after a moment she lowers the glass of refreshing strawberry lemonade and gestures at the glass on the other half of the table, "Come on, drink up. Have to be ready to make the final stretch," she asks, her somberness from before replaced with a lighter tone. It would be difficult to catch that the laugh is just a little forced and the smile that accompanies it is slightly strained...
In truth, she did hear the question stuck on his tongue. The perceptive girl could see it in his eyes, the gears turning, the connections being made. She could guess as to what he might have been struggling to ask and the thought of what that quite literally scares her. She's not ready to hear the question much less answer it, and thus diverting his attention to the refreshing drink with a brisk reminder about what remains of the journey ends up being her defensive response.
"I can probably make the rest of the trip on my own though. I did take up more of your time than seems appropriate with this detour of mine. I understand if you need to get back to the shop." she adds after a moment, her voice now maintaining an almost perfect neutrality, as if she doesn't mind one way or the other what he choses to do.
Thoughts continue to swirl behind the boy's eyes. Gaining a faint glimmer of emotion as he endlessly processes her words, and finding them to be true no matter how he looks at it. The similarity is.. uncanny. Heartening.. In a way.
It isn't a tragedy Kentou would ever wish on anyone else. However, that someone else .. understands that loss. And above that, has conquered that loss and become something great.. Its inspiring. Its wonderful.
What Hotaru did to ovecome it is spoken so plainly and it makes so much sense. Its just..
As Hotaru offers the glass in full, the boy almost thinks twice about it. The drink, in some ways, becoming a proxy for the offer on the table. Though it may be dreaded by all.
However.. the offer, much like the drink, is absolutely essential.
With an abrupt murmur of thanks the boy quickly snatches the glass, sloshing the contents about as he very quickly gulps down roughly half of it. Exhaling loudly as he sets the glass back upon the table, feeling the chilling liquid cooling him down all over as both hands grip the cold surface of the glass. Absently admitting, "Wooo.. that hit the spot.." *_*
The boy shakes his head once again, "No no.. Its okay! Ol' Sak told me to carry it for you all the way, and thats what I'm gunna do!" Kentou never backs down from his responsibility. Not ever.
Still.. with that distraction dealt with, the Boy circles back to an earlier point. Peering into the depths of the swirling strawberry oasis as he murmurs just loud enough to hear, "I'm.. sorry about your Mom and Dad.. I.. I kinda know what thats like.." Finally admitting, "I.. I bet your Father is proud of you.. You're so strong.."
And what of the Mother? Well.. Thats.. another matter.
Hotaru smiles quietly, leaning back in her chair as Kentou finally starts to down the drink purchased for him. The distraction away from the question he might have been posing is a relief, to say the least. An it seems he quite enjoys it, which only makes the offer all that much better. The girl slips her hand into her pocket and withdraws a small, thin wallet from which a few yen are extracted and sat on the table, held in place by her own cup, now mostly empty.
"That's good to hear," she speaks when he mentions that it really hit the spot. After the workout in getting this far, the kid has certainly earned it. And it sounds like he is determined to finish the task, which is no small promise. On one hand, she's glad to hear it. It means she isn't the one stuck with the stinky barrel. But... well, she was supposed to be the one moving it in the first place, and having him take the burden for her doesn't sit perfectly well either. But... well, torn between letting Kentou honor Ol' Sak's orders or not, the girl decides to let that be the case.
At the mention fo her father, however, a strange, uneasy expression crosses the girl's features, eyes averting, subconciously so, as a fleeting thought or uncomfortable memory passes through her mind. "Nn," she murmurs quietly, before looking back toward the young Ondori, her smile returning, though strained now. "I hope so, at least. I haven't seen him for over three years now. But... well, sometimes when I fight I think that maybe he will see the match, and I put everything I have into it, so that when he watches, he can be proud of how I did." There is melancholy heaviness to the girl's voice now.
'You know better than that now,' Hotaru chides herself in her head. She knows better than to pretend certain things were a certain way when they never really were. She saw the truth. She saw it all in her mind's eye, within the revealing, brutal Court of Judgement. Yet even after all that, she clings to hopes that cannot be.
"What makes you a fighter? Why do you do it?" comes the question next, the girl leaning back in her chair once more, eyes focusing on Kentou... /really/ focusing on him, rather than gazing through him like she has for the last several seconds. She heard Sakana's version of why. But...
The boy shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he accutely witnesses the discomfort behind Hotaru's expression at his compliment. Kentou's lower lip extends a fraction as his gaze softens.
Stupid, Stupid Kentou! He should know how much it can hurt to think about a father that isn't there for you anymore. He shouldn't have brought it up, he should have kept quiet!
The youth sits up a little more and leans forwards quickly, stammering, "Its..its okay I didn't me-" Hands reaching out to press flatly against the table as he desperately tries to give her an 'out' from saying anything about it.
But, as Hotaru begins to answer truthfully he respectfully quiets down. Resettling in his chair a bit as his attentive eyes remain upon her, shifting ever so slightly as he truly does hear her fully. This boy never does things by halves, even when he's listening all of his attention is focused upon it without distraction.
"I think.. I think he would be very, very proud.." Kentou compulsively speaks up again boldly. Words flying from his mouth once more before really thinking about the delicacy of the subject to the poor girl. But to him, he cannot comprehend a father who wouldn't be unspeakably proud of a daughter as strong as her. His own father would be estatic to have someone like her instead of.. Well.
Still, the boy resettles in his chair again a moment. Tired hands moving to rub along his thighs, trying to soothe aching muscles for the task yet to be done but his eyes never straying far from the girl. Which is why when she asks that question, Kentou states immediately. Barely without any thought at all.
"To show the world that the Ondori family style is the greatest!" Eyes alighting with enthusiasm as he smacks fist into outstretched palm, "To earn honor amongst the best!"
His quick, unwavering answer leaves the girl a bit surprised, an amused smile on her face as she leans her head to the side. "Is that so," she replies, hands resting against the table, fingers tapping lightly on the paper yen idly. "That's certainly ambitious." she appraises thoughtfully.
"And why is that so important to do, hm?" comes the subsequent question, curious, blue eyes focused on his face now. The idea that any one family style could be the greatest is a child's dream that will have to be broken the hardway someday, but wanting to earn honor among the world of competative fighters is certainly something she can appreciate.
"There's lots of styles out there..." she speaks almost as if just thinking out loud rather than voicing the words solely for his benefit. "And some fight with a plethera of styles mixed together and some are incredibly powerful even without a style... What, pray tell, makes Ondori style the greatest?" Her voice picks up a little at the question, making it clear that that part, at least, is intended for Kentou.
Of course, Kentou is yet a boy. A child with a dream. One that he stubbornly clings to no matter the toil, bloodshed and tears. If there is one thing the whole of his family agreed upon, it is that hard work is the only way to acchieve anything worthwhile. The harder life twists, the harder his resolve becomes. Every failure, every defeat, just reinvigorates his desire to cling to that one simple wish.
"B..Because it is.." Kentou stammers a moment as Hotaru questions the motive behind it. Inwardly he'll admit he tries not to put much thought behind it, by choice. And.. because the truth is a little too painful to just bring up in the here and now. His eyes shift back and forth a moment as he shifts a little uncomfortably in his chair.
Regardless, the boy quickly latches onto Hotaru's somewhat absent comment, using it as a vehicle for his convictions as he leans forward, "There are! And.. if I can prove that the Ondori style is a match for any of them then.. Then I'll have the proof I need!"
And that comment about mixed styles actually makes him smile, eager to leap on that notion as he can apply a bit of his own understanding of Kenpo, "And see, thats what makes it great!" Clasping his hands together as he leans over the table completely, resting on his forearms and eagerly elaborating.
"See! Kenpo is taking the best out of Wushu arts.." Raising his left hand up indicatively, "And taking some of the better parts of Karate, Judo and Aikido.." Holding up his right hand.
Then clasping his hands together again, fingers gripping tightly, "And putting them together in this super blend of styles! Thats why Kenpo is best, don't you think? And Ondori style is the best melding of a bunch of different styles! My Grandfather is the one who invented it a long, loooong time ago! And he was -incredibly- good!" ^_^
The young martial artist seated across from him listens patiently, her eyes watching his expressions, tracking the movement of his arms as he goes on to discuss what makes Kenpo such a great style - the blending of other disciplines, adapting the best parts, all in an effort to refine things down to a highly effective method of fighting.
Hotaru should know. Much of her time is spent studying styles, depending so much on keeping one step ahead of her opponent for her successes. "It is pretty good," she replies, expression reflecting a more subdued reaction that manages to contain some of the facination with Kenpo that Kentou exhibits. "Your grandfather sounds like an incredible fighter to have passed along such a wonderful style for you to inherit."
She glances at the two cups, now emptied over the course of the conversation, and her smile shifts to the kind of forced grin one adopts when having to deliver some bad news. "Well, we should get going. We're not too far off from our destination and those fish aren't getting any fresher."
She slips the chair back and gets up to her feet, hands idly brushing over her clothes neatly, as if to rid herself of any dust picked up by sitting on the outdoor furniture. Of course, then she notices the stains picked up by her short time within Ol' Sak's shop and realizes that any unsightly dust is a pretty minor deal comparitively and just gives up.
And with that, she steps out to the street, taking position next to the barrel. It's painful to watch the boy have to struggle hefting the heavy weight back up, but those fish arent' going to walk themselves home on their own!
Kentou nods his head eagerly, all smiles when talking about his grandfather and his family style. He has much to be proud of! Such conversation renews his interest and stokes his fires. Kentou clearly seems driven.. enthused. As Hotaru praises his art, he beams like a spotlight. His grin extending ear to ear with twinkling eyes reflecting that smile.
It is why he is doing this. For truly incredible fighters to acknowledge his arts, his family, it means everything to him. It gratifies him and makes any pain and anguish he feels completely and totally worth it.
So much so, that as Hotaru announces its time to go, the boy cheers, "Hai!" The lingering aches completely ignored as he hops from his chair, easily flips his legs over the railing while balancing on his off-hand and spins to the ground. Pressing his back against the barrel, his face scrunching in effort, "HaaHUT!"
With a fluid motion of effort, the boy hefts that barrel back onto his back. Waivering a little, but not nearly so much now.
The drink renewed his body. The talk renewed his conviction. Kentou is good to go.
"Lead On..Nn!" Gruffly blurting out as his focused eyes stare forth.
The heavy burden once again on the road, Hotaru leads the way as requested. The route continues along sidewalks, short streets, a couple turns... and then they are actually outside of Southtown proper, traversing a grass laden field toward a walled in structure not far off. "That's the Kyokugen Dojo," she explains once it is in within sight, having remained fairly quiet otherwise as the last leg of the trip approaches closure. After all, the boy is working hard as it is, trying to get him to carry on a conversation at the same time would be kind of ridiculous!
And then at last they have arrived. Hotaru leads the way in through the gate. Next to the gate is a large, steel wrecking ball crushed solidly into the wall, just shy of protruding out the other side. "Training accident," the girl explains away vaguely with a faint smile and dismissive wave of her hand. There is a matching hole in the side of the dojo's main room that probably explains where the wrecking ball was propelled from.
The entire courtyard is full of training materials. Dummy targets, dangling blocks of wood from rod iron bars for evasion practice, outlined sparring circles, punching and kicking bags... And right now, it's all quiet. Students have been a rare thing as of late, and the Sakazaki's and Marco are spending a lot of time on the road trying to drum up more attention.
A proud sign rests over the gate, in large, unmistakeable letters, "KYOKUGEN KARATE DOJO," with smaller words hand painted beneath, "Learning Through Pain." Hotaru still thinks that's a ridiculous advertising slogan, but Takuma has yet to be swayed otherwise. "This is where I live now." Well, when she's not camping out at the church lot or making a rare stop back by the still well maintained if not really used Futaba estate for provisions. She gestures toward a small, standalone building with a door and window, just off to the side. "Well, there, specifically. Ryo-sensei taught me how to build it." And in spite all of its mishaps, it appears to have turned out quite well, all the way down to the nice red paint job.
Why. Oh why.
Why did they build this flipping Dojo on the otherside of town?
And more importantly..
..Why oh why did Kentou stubbornly insist on carrying this gosh flipping darn barrel of fish!?
The boy, while filled with conviction and righteous intent a good hour ago.. Is once more on the edge of his endurance. Sweat once more soaking his outfit through as his distant eyes stare straight ahead almost blindly. Every step trudging a little slower than the last, as the barrel wobbles to and fro on his barely balancing arms behind him.
"Huhn.. Huhn.. Huhn.." Kentou wheezes in reply to Hotaru's declairation. Mostly unfocused eyes coming to rest on the blurry image of the massive Dojo before them. Is it.. is it almost over?! Oh Thank God.
Swallowing deeply inbetween heaving breathes of air, Kentou speeds up a little more.. Actually not noticing the 'training accident' as exausted as he is until she points it out. His head swiveling to the side slowly as bleary eyes stare at...
....
...The barrel half slips from his back before raw panic makes him scramble, yelping and arms flailing a moment before regaining purchase on the vessel of piscine products and bolting rigidly in pace. o_o;;;
Fwew.. that was close.
Still, the boy takes another incredulous look at that massive wrecking ball smashed into the wall. Deciding he.. really doesn't want to ask, as he then quickens his pace.
Thankful for the jolt of adrenaline that gave him, the boy quickens his pace behind the girl.
As much as he would love to compliment the girl on the fine construction job and the wonderousness of the Dojo.. Well..
"..GhnkthatsreallywonderfulIlikeitawesomewherecanIputthisdownnowplease?!.." Kentou gasps out in a rush as he grits his teeth, straining to keep the massive barrel aloft for a few seconds more..
Hotaru doesn't stop, feet still moving forward with the same deliberate pace that she's maintained for a long while now. Not trying to rush him, but realizing that after a while his arm strength is going to give out faster than his leg strength. "Right, right," she laughs lightly, stopping at the porch outside of a half-closed sliding paper door. "Just put it down here," she gestures to the wooden landing. "That was some trip. You must be exhausted," she adds after a moment's pause.
Resting her hands on her hips as she looks over the condition the kid is in, she shakes her head a bit. That was really a grueling trek for a boy his age. But, well, he can't say he didn't get some kind of exercise in today. Probably earned a whole PHY point right there!
The girl adopts a knowing smile after a moment, "Wait here. I'll call for a cab for the trip back. Your uncle probably thinks we got waylaid while enroute by now." She shakes her head slowly and steps in through the half closed door, no doubt to place the aforementioned phone cal.
Wide eyes stare desperately at the indicated wooden landing as if Kentou was gazing upon the promised land. Huffing and puffing with a final effort, the boy bobs his head swiftly and plods towards the step with what vigor his frame has left to give him. Expending the remainder of his effort as he holds his breath, the boy grunts. Twisting about at the last and practically collapsing backwards. Slamming the barrel onto the wooden landing with perhaps more force than he was intending. However! After a few wobbles, the barrel finally settles into place.. Lid rattling shut seconds after.
Kentou then simply collapses onto the ground, flopping onto his back with arms and legs stretched out at his sides.. wide mouth gulping for air not unlike the fishes he was carrying moments ago.
"..O....Oh man.. oh man.. wooph.." Babbling inbetween gasps of air. Forearm weakly lifting up to brush the sweat from his brow. Just taking a loooooong moment to recover from that most extreme of efforts.
"..H..Heh.. Did it.." The boy mumbles to himself a moment later, he'd smile if his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied.
After a few moments.. it dawns on the youth that she was just talking to him. Wait.. what was she saying?
Kentou blinks blurry eyes as his head tilts towards the closing door, wha? Calling something?
Realizing that his limbs utterly refuse to let him stand up again at the moment, the youth then turns his attentions to the sights around him.. Vaguely recalling the little tour Hotaru was speaking to him when he was.. kinda distracted. Glistening eyes blinking as he glances over all manner of training dummies and devices..
..Holy crap, is that dummy made out of scrap iron!? o_o;
Eyes turning to the little side-building nearby.. clearly built differently than the grand edifice he's sprawled at the foot of. Huh..
"..This place.. sure is ..great.." Kentou admits to himself as he breathes. This is.. a REAL Dojo. A world-class Dojo where champions are trained. The famed Kyokugen Dojo at that! Not some hole-in-the-wall crappy Dojo he's ritually been bursting into to challenge the spoiled kids or thuggish jerks therein. This is.. the real deal. REAL skill is crafted and tested here, He can see it in the cracks of wood and dents in metal. The boy can only wonder, how many of those cracks and dents are Hotaru's?
Luminous eyes continue staring around him in awe even once the girl returns..
The girl steps back out of the kitchen entrance a moment later, "I called for a cab for you." she states, "But it'll be a bit before they get one out here." And then she sits down on the the porch herself, legs hanging over the side so that her feet rest against the ground. She must be have caught the awestruck look in his eyes as she grins a little, placing a tall glass of normal lemonade on the wooden plank at his side.
"This place is something, isn't it? The Sakazaki's put so much money into it. All of their fight earnings are revinvested right back into this place." And she really does mean /all/. Which is why they're perpetually broke, alas. Hence the bargain shopping for fish. She helps them out a little in discrete ways with her own finances, but knows that they are too proud to accept any particularly generous financial assistence from her. And that's probably for the best. Having her instructors and mentors also be indebted to her would create awkward problems in the long run.
"Did you ever train at a dojo before?" comes the question. Maybe his father had one? "My father taught me at our house, but we had a large room that was designed like a dojo training room... It hasn't seen any use for years now, of course. This place is my first chance to learn at a real dojo." the girl explains before finally pausing to allow him to speak.
%Having had a few moments to mostly catch his breath, Kentou turns his attention to Hotaru. Rolling his head to the side to better regard her. Looking genuinely surprised at the notion of a cab as he blurts, "Oh! Oh no..I'm cool.. I'm good. You didn't have to .." Inwardly a little nervous. He doesn't have enough cash on him to pay for a cab all the way back! Maybe he'll just take the cab down the street and pay for what he can, then walk the rest of the way. Best of both worlds! She won't feel insulted and he can afford the trip!
Of course, as he tries to shift his legs and fails miserably, inwardly he considers if maybe he can get Ol' Sak to pay once he gets all the way back instead. '_'; Serves that old codger right for making him deadlift all that fish across all of Southtown! >.< He's SO getting a piece of his mind when he gets back.. That-
Snapping out of his mental reverie at Hotaru's question, the boy shakes his head and looks back up to her. Blinking once as he states, "..Really? Wow.." Attention returning to the architecture of the place around him as well as the countless training devices.
Well, That certainly begins to make sense. There's so much here! And.. Considering that wrecking ball.. The constant stream of repairbills must be pretty insane also. '_';
As she asks that following question the boy pouts a little, "Well..I.." Lips pressing into a line, gaze drifting, "..No.. Not really no. My family never really.... had a Dojo." Now that he really thinks about it, that is kinda weird. His father was obviously so completely driven by perfecting the family style. Why didn't he make a place for it, like Hotaru's dad? .. Hm.
Still, As she comments the boy adds, "I see.. It must certainly make a real difference! I mean.. training in a real Dojo, you know.. I've been to a bunch of Dojos around town." Head tilting contemplatively, "..Seems like so many of them are just.. I dunno.. just like stupid shopping mall stores. People just go to them to exercise or to just.. you know.. impress friends and stuff. Not really learning how to fight.. not really really." Eyes drifting a moment, "Seemed to me like.. Dojos must not have been that big a deal. Almost kinda.. I dunno.. limiting maybe. How important can ..I mean.. a place be? But.. Seeing THIS place.. And seeing how really, really good you are.." Attention returning to her with a wider smile, "..I guess it really is important."
Construction projects are always going on around the place when Ryo is home. Roof repair, wall rebuilding, concrete pouring... Just a normal day around the dojo after a hard afternoon's training! /Especially/ if Marco is around. Hotaru listens thoughtfully to the boy's observations on dojos, head leaning to the side a bit as she rests her hands in her lap, feet propped against the ground next to the porch. "Well, maybe," she replies. "I'm not sure that the place matters so much as the people. Anyone with enough money could build something like this," the girl gestures with a sweep of her arm toward the courtyard in general, clearly meaning the entire dojo.
"But that doesn't mean that they would be able to pass along lessons that would strengthen and inspire. Dojos are just places," she says with a quiet smile. "If your father saw no need to have on in order to teach you, then they can't be that important."
She brings a hand down to nudge the glass she sat next him before a little ways toward him. "Have some more to drink!" she grins, "This batch I made myself." Which means, like all batches of lemonade the girl concocts, it's very sweet.
Once again Kentou's attention returns to Hotaru as she offers her opinion. Bright eyes attentive now as his earlier exaustion has settled. Still breathing fairly quickly with sweat drenching his face, but no longer in such a weary daze.
Considering her words his lips purse, considering her rebuttle of his point of concession. Perhaps, he was focusing on the wrong part of a Dojo. Not so much the wood and mortar, but the parts that make it far more than brick and stone.
"..Ooooh.." The boy murmurs slowly. That does make more sense, as he considers this. "..Huh.."
Shaken a bit from his contemplation as she touches the glass at his side. Rolling his head over and double-takes at the cool vessel with widening eyes, "Oh! Ha! Wow.. I so missed that.." Spoken with a sheepish fluster. He was so exausted moments ago, he completely missed the refreshment that was by him the whole time!
With a small grunt he pushes himself a little, flopping over onto his shoulder limply as his other arm collapses before him. Weak hand gripping the surface of the glass as he tips his head over enough so he can pour the cooling liquid sideways past his lips. Glug. Glug. Glug. *_* A tiny rivulette running from the corner of his mouth from the awkward position.
Woo! Sugar! *_* ... Although the boy pauses a moment after with an audible 'aaaaah', smacking his lips as he swirls a finger within the glass. Squinting as he tries to flick away the swirling pulp. o.= He hates that part, ick.
"Mm..Thanks Hotaru!" Stating again firmly as he looks back up to her with a smile, "You are one of the best customers we've ever had." ^_^ ... Last time he made a home delivery like this that mean old lady he carried fish for kept beaning him over the head with her folded umbrella. ;_;
Hotaru laughs lightly at being called a great customer. It's the least she can do, considering he packed along the barrel that she was supposed to carry the whole way here. It means she's cheated on strength and endurance training for today, but she'll make up for it somehow!
"Glad you liked it," the girl states as he empties the glass with ardent desire. But after that, she's back to being quiet, looking at him with what might seem like a strange, contemplative expression, before she finally pulls her gaze away to stare across the courtyard toward the gate where she knows a cab will be pulling up in any time.
"Your Uncle is a good man," the girl states quietly, seeming to jump to an entirely unrelated subject just out of the blue. "He wants what's best for you, even if what he wants for you may often seem contrary to what you want to do." She sighs a little, hands coming to rest on her knees, palms pressed against her pants. Is Kentou even old enough to decide what's best for him? Shouldn't he wait a few more years before working so hard at his goal? When he's old enough to make more responsible decisions?
The girl's gaze loses focus, gazing off into the distance as she thinks back a few years herself. She wasn't too much older than him when she was left without any parental figure to even provide her a modicum of guidance. She had to make her own decisions then, and so far she feels like she's done all right by herself.
"Doesn't mean you have to do everything he says. When you're not on the job, that is" she quickly adds, not looking at Kentou then. "Just... just have to understand where he's coming from, you know?" The squealing brakes of a cab pulling up down at the gate echo across the courtyard then, heralding the arrival of Kentou's luxurous ride.
Mmmm. Lemonade.
The boy finishes the rest of the glass with satisfaction. Wiping his lips with the back of his wrist, as he then carefully sets the glass down next to him and collapses back on the grass before the porch. Eyes looking up to the clouds for a long moment as he just lets the cooling liquid within him settle and sweat evaporate in the slight breeze.
As Hotaru speaks of Ol' Sak, the boy frumps. His lips accutely frowning as he mumbles with closed eyes, "He's a lousy, crabby old taskmaster! Kinda a jerk and he's not really my Uncle. He just used to work for my Grandfather a long time ago and kinda a family friend." Lifting weary arms to cross over his chest stand-offishly. Clearly a lot more brave when he isn't in Fish-slapping range!
Still, as Hotaru elaborates her point his head tilts away, trying to keep his expression hardened and distainful in regards that that old coot. But the corner of his lip softens as he, extreeeeeeemely begrudgingly admits, "...I..Guess. I do owe him.. I suppose.."
After all, Ol' Sak took him in. Kept him out of the orphanage and gave him a place to stay. That.. that means a lot. Even if he is a mean old slave-driver. Though, The boy definitely doesn't ever want to let anybody see him admitting it! Working and sleeping at a bait shop is better than being on the street, he guesses.
At Hotaru's advice, the boy giggles with a wide grin. Eyes closing with smug satisfaction as he boasts, "Ha Ha, I certainly don't!" How many times has he forbidden him from street fighting now? He lost count around a hundred or so. ~.~ "Where he's coming from? Eh.. Probably free labor. Maybe a way to try to impress girls by taking care of me, or something." Sticking his tongue out in the Shop's general direction across town. But a moment later his gaze drifts downwards. Not regretting those thoughts! Of course not. No way. Not him. But.. he.. he probably should get back to work now.
And on cue the screeching brakes demand his attention. Head tilting as he grunts with the effort of sitting up to stare at the yellow car door in the distance. With a pout he then turns his gaze back up to Hotaru..
..He, finds he doesn't want to leave so quickly. And not JUST because he still can't quite feel his legs yet. But.. well.. the company is kinda.. Just really nice. Honestly he can't remember the last time he ever just.. talked to anybody like this. Not anytime since.. Well, for a long time.
"..I..I guess I should get back.. I don't want Sak to worry about-" ... "-About letting his slave nap on the job, that grimy old-" Shaking his fist. >.< "...I.. better go."
With supreme effort, the boy grunts and grouses as he sloooowly wobbles to his feet. Pushing himself up a few inches at a time until turning to Hotaru once more with a wide, cheery grin, "I.. I really enjoyed stopping by. Thank.. Thank you for showing me around, Hotaru." Clasping his hands together as he then bows low towards her. ... Wobbling forward an inch with a quick 'ack' before steadying himself.
Hotaru doesn't stay seated for long once Kentou finally manages to get to his feet. Her thoughts expressed, she was able to watch his reaction with enough perception to feel that the message was at least in a small part received, and that's good enough for her.
On her feet, she smiles, "You're welcome. Let's get you squared away, ne?" Hotaru accompanies him to the car, hands clasped behind her back as she steps right up to the cabby's door, waiting for the driver to lower the glass with an electronic whirr.
"Hello," the girl speaks with a smile, "I'm the one that ordered the cab. I need you to take young mister Ondori here back to the Chinatown docks please. The ride is being billed to the Futaba account, but I'm sure you already know that." Her friendly smile and polite tone just almost manages to hide the fact that she is perfectly aware that the cab driver might have been hoping to double-dip on this ride by billing the kid at the destination even though the fare was already being covered.
Stepping away from the window, the girl turns toward Kentou, bowing toward him, leaving her hands clasped behind her back. "Have a safe ride home, Kentou. Thanks for carrying all that fish all the way out here." The girl takes a step backward then, realizing that she regrets that he has to get going. It was nice having someone to talk to, even if years of a few years of age and experience differentiate them to some degree.
Kentou wobbles a little, but manages to keep pace with the girl without complaint. Nodding once with a smile as he looks up to her at his side. Looking back ahead to the Cab as his mind already revolves around how high he can make that cabby set the air conditioning to.
As he walks up to the car he slowly brushes some dirt from his work outfit. Patting his legs and posterior from what he picked up laying about so much in recovery, "Yup! That's me.. And bi-whuah?!"
The boy blurts, snapping his gaze to her with wide eyes, "H..Hey! You don't have to do..ah.." Eyes snapping between the cabby then back to the girl again. Aw man, he should have been paying better attention! She sneaked the tab on him. :<
Looking back up to the girl and giving her a petulant look with pursed lips.. before relenting in a slow smile and a soft exhale.
Bowing again as she bows to him, fist on palm, "Thank you Hotaru. For .. The afternoon." Kentou's luminous eyes turn back up to her.. Gaze meeting for a moment as the emotion there unmistakably echos her own internal sentiment. Looking away at last with some regret, before quickly swinging the door open and slipping into the Cab. The rush of motion making the goodbye.. well.. a little easier.
...He'll be back here, Kentou knows. He will.
Log created on 21:31:31 08/27/2007 by Kentou, and last modified on 15:23:43 09/02/2007.