Description: Ever since he met Jiro there, Frei has taken a liking to the abandoned church above Southtown Village. However, the church actually has an owner, and when she comes to spend a little of her own time there, both Frei and Hotaru find they have a lot more to talk about than one might think.
It's probably for the best that Frei never took to wearing the traditional costume of the many religious sects he's passed through on his search for spiritual refinement. After all, a qipao shirt and jeans is pretty commonplace in Southtown, but a man dressed as a Buddhist monk frequenting the yard of a clearly Christian church is another thing entirely. Mr. Renard is an odd enough ball as it is, and drawing attention to himself, well... it'd be counterproductive given what he comes here to do.
He sweeps.
It's a little bit of Shinto in a Catholic world, but that's what he does. Once a week he comes and sweeps the front steps and tends to the yard of this place. While he himself has no real Christian background, Frei knows that Jiro -- for whatever reason -- is drawn to this place. The last time the two friends talked, it was in this very yard, in fact... and it was here that Frei elaborated to the Stray Dog what he felt the core concept of Christianity was. So he's come back here ever since to think on that, usually right before the ornate bells play an evening carillion. The sound strikes him as interesting, since so many other Eastern sects he's been part of value silence more than song.
As if on cue, the bells begin to ring and Frei comes to a halt, planting the broom on the walkway and leaning on it somewhat, listening to the resonant tones ring through the air. A difficult instrument to control, a church bell... the sounds echo and ring and even clash with each other, but in the end there IS a sort of harmony about it... perhaps that's why Frei is content to stand there, eyes closed, and listen through it... at close range, no less.
That Frei comes to maintain a part of the property from time would be both a surprise yet not a surprise at the same time for the young Hotaru Futaba who steps through the wrought iron gate that acts as the sole entry point through the wall that surrounds the old church building. Perhaps this day Frei will find out what drew Jiro to this chapel time and time again. For the girl who spies the monk sweeping, however, there's a lot for /her/ to wonder.
The surprise comes because she had been wondering who it was who was slipping in from time to time sweep the walkway like that. She knows it was being done, see, as the pig-tailed girl is the only caretaker for the entire multi-acre lot. Finding the garden weeded before she got here or the shrubs trimmed... time and time again she pondered who else was sneaking in and helping her with the large project this place is. Far from upset by it, she simply hoped that whoever it was, they find the same peace and tranquility in such a ritual as she does.
The lack of surprise is because when she sees who it is... well, it just seems to make sense. "I should have known," the girl remarks as she steps toward Frei. In one hand is a traditional looking picnic basket. Lunch for later. At least, that was the plant. "Hello Frei-san." the girl continues with a slight bow of her head out of respect for the religious position the young man holds in her mind. Much the same way she regards Mizuki with a certain deference she doesn't offer others by default.
"So you're the one that has been helping out around here. I think I owe you more than just thanks." Hotaru grins, walking up to the steps that lead to the heavy wooden door at the entrance of the building and placing the basket down on the stone porch. Lifting her right hand to her mouth, she lets out a shrill, short whistle. From across the yard a yellow blur bursts out of some plants and speeds over to leap into the arms of the Kenpo artist. "Good morning to you, Itokatsu. Why didn't you ever tell me I was missing Frei-san by not coming by earlier than usual." she giggles, hugging the animal close.
Don't sneak up on people like that! At least, that's probably what Frei would be bothering to say if he were a little less maladroit when he's not in a fight. The sudden noise of Hotaru making her appearance wakes Frei from his reverie with a start, but the major problem with this scenario is that he is leaning on a broom at the time and, let's face it, even pushbrooms make poor pedestals.
The young monk's green eyes open wide for a moment, but then it's all vaudeville as he tumbles to the ground, the broom flying off in the process as Frei hits the dirt face-first and just kinda... lays there for a moment, before pushing himself up and sitting cross-legged on the grass, taking notice as Itokatsu skitters by of his guest. In truth, he's seen her here once before... though Hotaru herself wouldn't know it, unconscious as she was at the time.
"Guilty," Frei says sheepishly, brushing dirt off his cheek with one hand and then rubbing the back of his head. "And don't worry about the '-san', it makes me sound like an old man..." He pauses, then grins at Hotaru, the sheepish and even childish face perhaps reinforcing the statement. "Unless you're married to being 'Hotaru-san' or are super hardcore and want 'Futaba-san', but... I kick it informal style, you know?" It's like he's from another planet.
Hotaru's left hand snatches out to snag hold of the broom as it goes flying off during Frei's unfortunate tumble to the ground, Itokatsu having swooshed up to rest around her shoulders just in time to free up her arms. "Ack," the girl gasps as she glances down at the monk, a sheepish look on her face for having caught him off guard.
Her hand extends out as if to offer to help him up at first, but then she thinks otherwise and ends up crouching down, instead. "Sorry about that. And yes, Frei is fine." she grins with a shake of her head. The honorific formalities used to be common place in her speech patterns, but after the year she spent away from Southtown she's reserved them only for those with religious pursuits it seems. Or the occasional individual who merits the utmost of respect, like Takuma... except that he refused the honorifics as well. Japan just isn't as formal as it used to be. That's all there is to it.
"And please, just Hotaru." she insists, less there be any confusion on the matter. The ferret on her shoulder sniffs the air in Frei's direction, whiskers twitching rapidly as he moves about with nervous energy. Hotaru rests the broom flat on the walkway next, freeing her hand to lift and scritch the critter. "I appreciate the cleaning you've done here over time... It's a shame that few would really notice it. No congregation has met here for years," the girl states, leaning her head to the side slightly. The unspoken question is easy to see in her eyes. 'Why do you do it?'
The monk doesn't stand up; in reality, he actually looks perfectly at home sitting on the ground like an idiot, though he does turn his head to look back at the church. "I got that impression. Religion's not exactly popular in today's world, unless you're one of the extreme crazies that needs a justification to hurt people." Frei says this so off-handedly that it could seem almost cruel in tone, before he shrugs and turns back to Hotaru. "Their loss. I don't really like organized religion, myself, but I understand that people need to feel connected to something, so I respect it."
Reaching up with both hands, Frei tightens the knot in his long-tailed headband, the tails fluttering across his back as he does so, and his gaze strays off into the distance, over the wrought iron gates. "There's a Shinto shrine almost on the exact opposite side of town from here, did you know that? Nobody ever goes there, except maybe Mizuki... and she sweeps the steps and keeps it clean. I used to do the same, when I had the time." He trails off, as if there's more stories about the shrine that he suddenly doesn't feel like telling.
Turning back to Hotaru, however, he is all smiles again. "I don't know a lot about Western faith. But there are some attractive ideas in it. Eastern religions... most of them aren't very celebratory. You know? They're... austere. It's about harmony and balance. But Christians... there's so much *fervor* in their worship. It's passionate and powerful." There's a pause, and then he giggles helplessly. "I sound like I'm describing my relationship with Alma. Anyhow. I was hoping that if I came here and... I dunno. Soaked in some of the essence of the place, I'd come to understand that passion better."
"Huh," Hotaru replies. It isn't a dismissive 'wow, that was really uninteresting' noise. More of a 'I never really thought about it that way before' sound. "You know a lot about religions, Frei," the girl states quietly, her right arm resting across her kness as she maintains the crouch. "I'm afraid I don't know much about them at all." She looks kind of sheepish about it. After all, she maintains this old church building of all things and has spent time praying at the Shinto shrine too.
"My mother told me some things... that's about it. I guess I know just enough to know that I don't know much at all about it." the girl admits with a bit of a shrug. Finally she settles down into a seated position in front of Frei. She isn't going to stand up over him and her legs were getting kind of tired in that crouch. "But the people that met here... they meet somewhere else now. Closer to downtown. They got a newer building and this one..." Hotaru shrugs a little, her smile faint as the topic touches upon something clearly important to her. "Well, I guess there's not so much of a need for it anymore."
But then what of the bells? Of the gardens? Of the birds who roost in the bellfry. Of the rabbits who nibble on the grass? Perhaps it's important to consider 'need' from different perspectives.
"They're the only thing I've ever been good at," the monk replies, in a very quiet voice. A moment passes after he says it, and then with a shrug Frei pulls himself to his feet, then links his fingers together and stretches, his arms pushed upwards in an arch. "I like to know things about how people think and feel. We're social creatures, after all... no offense, Mr. Ferret," Frei says with a smile, offering his hand to Itokatsu to be smelled and, if he'll permit it, pet briefly.
"I guess it depends on what the moment dictated. If there's a lot of people, this building just isn't enough space, and no amount of praying in the world is going to fix that, right?" He glances back at the white spire of the belfry and purses his lips for a moment. "But their hearts are probably here... you know? I think if someone was born and raised here, maybe baptised -- I think that's what it's called, with the water? -- here. They could wander off to Notre Dame in Paris but their *heart* would still be here. So a bit of the church goes with them." There's a pause, and then the monk adds, almost as if saying it on autopilot, "That's how I feel, anyway."
Another moment of silence passes, before Frei scratches his forehead for a moment. "I'd ask what you're doing here, but the pic-a-nic basket sort of gives you away. Do you come here a lot?"
Hotaru stands back up as he does but leaves the basket on the ground. She leans her head to the side as he comments. She's quiet as he reaches out to bond with the ferret and Itokatsu seems to react well to the attention, more than easy going when it comes to being pat as he stays perched on the girl's shoulder. "I surely don't think they're the only thing you're good at," Hotaru says with a tsk and a shake of her head. She's seen him in action, both for fun or for fighting for others. There's nothing to apologize for in his abilities.
She follows his gaze up to the bellfry and blinks quietly before her attention comes back to his face, mouth curling into a faint, almost meloncholy smile. Maybe there's more to her connection to this place than she let on at first for his thoughtful words regarding the church building's history seem to have provoked a sentimental reaction in the girl.
Yeah, I think you're right." she replies somberly before glancing at the basket. "The traces of perhaps countless memories can be found here." When he brings up her purpose in being there and inquires to the frequency of her visits, the girl's smile widens. "Yeah, I do. I own it."
Well, that's a surprise, and it shows as the ferret-petting comes to a stop and the monk gives Hotaru a look of faint surprise. He gives Itokatsu one last pat on the head, then grins and arches his arms behind his head, elbows pointing outward. "Kinda young for a landowner, aren'tcha?" he asks, mostly teasing, but turning to look over the land again. Top of a hill, quiet place... there are worse places in the world to have the deed for, this much is clear. "I apologize for my random acts of trespassing landscape work then, I suppose." The man is clearly joking, despite (or perhaps because of) his sudden somber tone.
As for the rest... "Don't worry about my self-esteem," Frei says with a smile, turning his head to look back at Hotaru over his shoulder. "Religion is how I learned how to fight, believe it or not. I was actually going to university right here in Southtown when I was... well, close to your age. Philosophy major! But it didn't take... I didn't get along with the structure of the academy, unquote."
There's a pause as memories come back to Frei, a comparatively young man at 26 years old but in his own ways much 'older' than his current conversational companion. "So I... well, I left everything behind in Japan. Went to China. I was... a Buddhist, I studied the Sikh and Vedic traditions, everything... I was trying to find the religion that would *satisfy* me, fill that empty space, and I never did. But in the process I met my former master, and he taught me how to tie all those ideas about how to live and feel together. Chi was just... well, part of the package." Frei grins widely, showing the faint freckles at the top of his cheeks. "The rest you can get on DVD from Amazon.com, pretty much."
As he teases her about owning a place at such a young age, Hotaru's cheeks blush a little and she shakes her head. "It's complicated," the girl offers as her only explanation about how she came to possess this quiet location. There's a story there, to be sure, but she doesn't volunteer it just then, more interested in what the monk has to say about his own path of discovery. As to his apology? "This property is a sanctuary for anyone who needs it. Even if they just have a compulsion to sweep," she states with a teasing grin in return.
And then she's quiet, her blue eyes focused on him as he discusses how it is that religion resulted in him learning to fight. There's not many she thinks would be able to claim that. The explanation has to be interesting. Close to her age? The girl is reminded that she's merely a year away from college, herself. This year in High School is to be her last, barring flunking courses, naturally.
Now that Itokatsu is left alone she returns to petting the ferret as well. He doesn't like sitting on shoulders and not getting attention! "I see," the girl replies quietly, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "So what was the answer in the end?" she asks, "A little of everything, I suppose? Maybe the best from them all combined into one philosphy?" She shakes her head a little, looking apologetic, feeling naive on the subject. Ironic in light of owning a church building. "All I know how to do is pray when I'm desperate."
The answer? In fact, that question even gets said aloud by Frei, who even seems a little confused by it. "The answer?" A good question. It's certainly an empirical way of looking at the universe, rooted in the scientific method. He experimented, he collected data, now is the time for synthesis and, eventually, a predictive response that adds order to the universe, an ability to say 'this is how it is'.
Screw that.
Putting up a finger, Frei winks at Hotaru impishly. "I found out that there is no answer. My problem with religion -- all of them, even the ones I like -- is that it's about... finding the 'right' way to live, the 'perfect' way, as if such a thing could ever in a million years exist. Human beings... well, all living things. Stuff happens to use and we react as best we can. What we've seen in the past, our emotions, our bodies... they all *guide* us, but the constant is the wave-like motion of action and reaction, cause and consequence, yin and yang..."
Shaking his head, the monk actually slaps both hands onto his cheeks a couple times, then shakes them out. "And you can learn it all in my new book, 'Wonton Soup for the Soul'. I'm sure it'll be on Oprah's book club in no time." And there it is again, the self-deprecating jab that draws him back from the precipice of wandering into unknown cosmic territory. "Praying when you're desperate isn't such a bad thing, is it? If you're desperate it means everything you KNOW to do hasn't worked, so you're looking for something you DON'T know will work. Prayer's as good as anything else."
He has her complete attention. But the moment he says there's no answer, Hotaru blinks, a mild look of dismay in her eyes. No answer? That's not what she was hoping for. Frei is a few years her senior after all. Surely he's ventured into the great void that is the twenty-something years and picked up enough knowledge from his experiences to tell her all she would ever need to know about 'the way', right??
The girl relaxes a little as he continues though, taking in everything he has to say rather than fixating on what he said at first. He may feel that he's straying into ground that wouldn't be interesting, but Hotaru seems facinated, nodding her head slowly, only to blink with a bit of surprise when he talks about a book, looking like she might have taken him /seriously/ for a moment before realizing he's joking. About the book, that is. Everything else? That part she'll keep.
"Yeah," she admits when he talks about her resorting to prayer when all else fails. "I suppose it can't make things worse, at least?" she replies, searching his face for his response. Truth be told, for all of his deliberate steering out of the serious, deep topics, Hotaru considers him to be one of the wisest people she knows. Poor kid, eh?
For all his goofy antics, Frei Renard is not an idiot. The sense of disappointment at his lack of the 'real answer' to impart isn't lost on him, and for a moment he's totally silent, eyes closed. It seems ridiculous but somewhere inside he's re-hearing the sounds of the carillion bells for a fraction of a moment. Eventually, however, he opens his eyes and turns to Hotaru with a different sort of smile... the smile that's friendly but a little weary. One of someone who has indeed 'travelled' some distance.
"Can you imagine a world where there really was the one answer?" he asks, putting a finger to his temple. "I try not to. Because that's a world of constant, unending war. You know? How could you ever know your answer was the right one? Unless God, or Buddha, or Allah, Amaterasu Omikami, or... Ed McMahon, or whoever shows up at your front door and the angels sing 'yea alleluia, the answer'?"
Shaking his head, he takes the finger off his temple and pokes it into Hotaru's forehead instead. "In that sort of world you have nothing to teach me, and what a terrible world that would be! In that world people like Kain really do get to kill Jiro with impunity for breaking the rules. But you've reached deep inside and fought against that because it was what *you*, Hotaru, demanded of yourself." There's a pause, and he takes his hand back, sounding somber for a moment. "You and Jiro, Alma, Acacia... even Mizuki and Tran in their own ways... everyone I know has taught me that lesson of 'something worth fighting for'. I haven't... mastered it yet. But I'm learning. I have to have faith that there's a world out there where I might be wrong, or... I probably wouldn't have the strength to get out of bed in the morning."
The girl's shoulders fall a little as she realizes that he picked up on her discouragement at the idea that he can't promise a single answer to all the questions in the world. It's... well, not what she had hoped. When one has been through what she has... the life of abandonment and painful loss one begins to hope that there is a simple, universal answer to it all. But he explains the flaw in that way of thinking with eloquence that leaves Hotaru feeling a little bit better about the lack of that very thing. "You're right," she says quietly when he speaks of the wars that would break out over that very question.
When he pokes her forehead, her eyes roll upward, crossing a little as she focuses on his arm before looking back toward his face instead. "Nn," she agrees, perhaps a bit reluctantly. But then her eyes narrow a little, head leaning to the side slightly, as she goes back into question asking mode.
"Are you saying that you haven't found something worth fighting for yet?" She sounds genuninely surprised. She would have thought that everyone would have at least the basic list to chose from. Family. Loved one. Sense of right and wrong. Something. "I'm glad that you at least feel compelled to fight at times all the same. You were a great help back then... when Jiro and Dante fought. I never thanked you for it directly. I don't know what would have happened if you, Acacia, and Mizuki hadn't jumped in. And also at Thailand." The girl smiles a little, adopting a grateful expression, "I understand it was you that dealt with the blast that knocked me out in the end. If you hadn't been in the way..." she shakes her head slowly. No need to finish the thought.
"Nope!" The response is almost too cheerful, too happy... but tone aside, Frei gives Hotaru an honest and immediate answer to her question. "Not... a thing or a cause, a person, an item, a goal... not really. I just move through each day according to how I feel about any given situation. Seems... sort of stupid, doesn't it?" He laughs, at least, in saying so... there's some good humor there. "It might be. I'm not sure... 'stupid' is just a word, after all."
Shaking his head, Frei shrugs. "I'm glad you weren't hurt. And I'm glad I was there to help you... both times, really. Not necessarily out of dedication to you... haha! I'm sorry." Grinning, Frei suddenly sits down on the grass and then lays on his back, staring at the sky for a second before turning his gaze to Hotaru. "That sounded bad even if it was the truth. We're friends, or at least I think we are. But right then, in both of those moments... what I wanted to do, what my mind and body said to do, was step in. Subconsciously, I'm sure it's because I... value you, or Jiro, or any of the above. You know?" The monk's eyes close and he leans back on the grass. "So you don't have to thank me for doing what came naturally."
Finally, Frei takes a deep breath, eyes still shut... and then he opens them again, looking at Hotaru. "How is it you found something worth fighting for? The way you asked the question implied you have one... you sounded surprised." He grins a little, teasing somewhat. "But I'm curious. The only person who's ever really told me his reason is Alma, and..." A beat. "...things get complicated, there."
"I wouldn't say stupid," Hotaru replies at first, brow furrowed slightly. She isn't sure what she would say it is, really. Surprising, maybe? "Maybe it's nice to not have anything anchoring you down." she says quietly, not sounding confident that it is, but accepting that it's possible perhaps. To an extent, it sounds like the young man is simply adrift through life, perhaps deliberately avoiding forming ties to anything beyond the vaguely tenuous ones he can't avoid.
She nods slightly as he speaks of her as a friend though she looks a little confused. "I'm not sure I understand the difference... if you valued us enough to intercede was that not something worth fighting for?" The nuances escape her, but then again she has always been a girl to see things in very strict black and white areas. Always easier to keep track of things that way.
But his question is turned on her and the girl blinks with some surprise at being asked. "How? I'm not sure I can answer that..." she starts at first, her mind whirling at the very valid question. "Well, I guess... I mean, I fight to prevent people from being taken from me. If someone tried to take Jiro's life... or Alma's life... or Mizuki-san, Acacia, Sakura, Eva... or yours..." The girl's voice fades out as she begins to realize she's accrued quite the list of people she appreciates having in her life over the last few months. If anyone where to try and take those people from her... that would be worth fighting for. Needless to say, with her past, losing people is something she has come to fear with a certain intensity.
She shakes her head after a moment. "It's complicated, I guess. I'm just surprised that you've gotten by so long without even a cause to champion."
It's suddenly a little awkward laying on the ground while discussing this, so Frei sits up with an "oof!" of expelled air, then pulls himself to his feet and stretches again, this time pushing his hands out in front of him instead of arching them over his head. It has more of the tone of a nervous gesture than actually getting any kinks out of muscles, though either way he'll probably be very limber by the time this conversation is over.
"Eva, huh... heh, six degrees of separation." The monk looks up at the sky. "Maybe you're right. Maybe the difference is just semantic. I always saw the difference as... well." He turns to Hotaru, tilting his head. "I helped you because at that moment, right then, it was what I wanted. But... it was conceivable that maybe at some future time in a different set of circumstances, I might not have. It's not easy to say that, you know?" There's a pause, and then Frei actually *blushes*, a maneuver so rare that Hotaru could question every one of their mutual acquaintances and never find a single person who's seen it happen. "Sorry. The way I think... stuff that sounds terrible just comes out of my mouth, because I just say what I think."
Shaking his head, the monk pushes a hand through his dark red hair and adopts an expression of concentration. "Anyhow. I feel like... something worth fighting for is *always* worth fighting for. Now and forever. And... I don't know I have that kind of commitment or courage yet. I don't know that I'd ever lay my life down for anything or anyone. And that's what a cause really means... it's a fire you can't put out."
Taking a couple of steps to the side, Hotaru seats herself down on the bottom stair leading up to the building's main door, bringing her right next to the picnic basket she was carrying when she showed up. Itokatsu slips down off her shoulders and, using his nose, pops open one of the sides of the basic and sticks his head inside, perhaps inspecting it for anything she might have brought for him... But Hotaru grabs him around the waist and pulls the ferret back into her lap, putting and end to his investigative foray.
All the while, her attention has never left Frei, the young martial artist listening to him with wide eyed curiosity, only to blink with some confusion when he explains that circumstances could have been such that he /wouldn't/ have helped. The girl turns that around in her mind for a while, trying to follow how anyone as decent as the monk in front of her could suggest that he wouldn't do the 'right thing' in her mind, but she doesn't voice any of that.
"I see," the girl finally allows quietly, sounding like maybe she doesn't really. It's a strange philosophy to take in for one who has always seen things in very black and white terms. "I'm not sure what to think about that," Hotaru admits after a moment. "It sounds like you prefer to be carried through life by the minute per minute whims of fancy and mood. That to be counted on for anything scares you. If I had to sum up what you have described to me, I'd have to describe it as an outlook of simply doing what feels good at the moment. If it feels good, do it. If it doesn't, don't." Her tone is... well, she sounds a little offended, perhaps? Maybe disappointed.
"Hedonism, huh... well, maybe that's part of it," Frei admits, watching the girl move. Her questions have actually given him a lot to think about, generally speaking, and it shows on his face. His typical :D-y smile is gone, though he doesn't necessarily look *sad*... just pensive. Much as he did when he realized Sakura was suffering in Thailand and he was useless to help her or say anything of value to her. When Marise came to feed on his feelings of doubt and despair. When a part of him realized that Jiro might be really gone, forever, from his life.
When he arrived in China to find his beloved master and second father gone forever.
Walking over, Frei keeps a respectable distance and sits down on the same step, looking out over Southtown below. "A cynic would say that fear is what motivates humanity pretty much 100% of the time. Fear of loss and fear of being hurt. We protect the ones we love and care about because without them there's something *missing* from our lives and that's what we want to protect. We're good because we fear censure... I don't guess you've read any Foucault?" Frei suddenly asks, turning to Hotaru, but he doesn't wait for an answer. "Probably not, at your age. He called it the 'panopticon', the idea that we're always being watched but we don't know by whom, so out of fear of being observed being... well, 'bad', we do good things."
There's a pause, as Frei picks up a stray rock and skips it down the steps, the pebble making a ticking noise as it bounces down. "I think that's... well, a pessimistic view of the world. It invalidates love and kindness and it turns altruism, real altruism, into a myth. I'm not sure that's how the world really is."
Hotaru shakes her head at the mention of Foucault, but remains quiet otherwise, not doing anything to interrupt what Frei has to share regarding her somewhat accusing words from a moment ago. "I hope not," the girl replies as his words taper off. Such a negative view on what motivates people to do anything doesn't sit well with her. She shifts a little, now craddling the ferret on his back as Itokatsu gives up hope of peeking back into that basket for now.
"But there is one point that is true. There is someone who sees everything we do." Hotaru points out after a moment. "Ourself."
One hand moves to stroke the belly of her yellow furred friend as she looks at Frei thoughtfully. "But no, I don't think that's how the world works. If so, then everyone would be cowards, driven by a single defining emotion. People are a lot more complicated than that," she states, sounding quite certain about that assertion. "To try and distill what compels us down to just one out of the countless emotions we can experience seems to be even more naive than me." she finishes with a grin.
That gets a laugh from Frei, who gives Hotaru a thumbs up. "And that's why there's no one answer," he announces triumphantly. It's not like he planned that circuitous discussion but what the hell, if it helps reinforce an earlier point he'll go with the flow. "And you're right. We're the ones constantly observing ourselves and we're the ones we see in the mirror every day. But that's exactly why we can't choose the philosophies that are best for everyone. In the end it's ourselves that we're most responsible to. And that's probably why my hypothetical would never happen."
He looks up at the sky again, and Frei's tone becomes distant. "Thought experiments are rarely nice. Do you think there's ever a scenario where I'd... well, let you get annihilated by an exploding tank, if I could help it? No. But... there's no 100% guarantees everywhere and... denying that would mean, to me, I haven't thought it out fully." He turns back to Hotaru. "I know that must have sounded horrible of me. But... maybe because it's a horrible example, it's easy to understand."
Turning back to the view of the city, he continues, drumming his fingers on the well-worn jeans that he tends to favor. His outfit in general says 'comfortable' rather than 'stylish' or 'sporty' anyway. The wooden sandals are probably damned inconvenient to fight in, for example. "It all goes back to... childhood. I was never comfortable with 'one cut, one kill'... so I left it behind. That black and white world, perfectly focused, infinitely small... what a terrible way to live."
"Hmn," Hotaru squints one eye as Frei gives her a thumbs up. Clearly the point is sinking in now, even if she isn't /quite/ ready to receive it. As she listens to him continue, however, she looks more accepting of what he's expressing even if she isn't entirely sold. Maybe it's just the unpleasant example that has her on edge, even if it is ideal for presenting his point. "I guess so." she allows reluctantly eventually. "It just seems like some things /should/ be certain."
She looks away then, eyes straying over the rooftops of the lower sections of Southtown Village. What things could be, should be certain? She asks herself the question silently, blue eyes distant as they focus on little at the moment.
"One cut, one kill?" she asks after a moment, blinking as she looks back at Frei, clearly not understanding what the phrase means.
Leaning back, Frei crosses his arms behind his head again... apparently it's just his default storytelling gesture. But there's something dulled about his cheerfulness, as if it's laid on like a veneer over his actual mood. He doesn't sound different or even look different... but depending on Hotaru's perceptiveness and empathy he may simply just 'feel' different.
"Yeah... how familiar are you with battoujutsu?" he asks, turning his head to the side and absentmindedly disengaging one hand to pet poor Itokatsu. "Nowadays it's called iaido or iaijutsu but the two aren't the same... battoujutsu is old-school sword drawing. You know, like on TV?" Frei gets up and holds his hands in a weird position near his hip, then swings one arm out wide, thankfully clearing Hotaru's head by a good margin. "Flash! And then five bundles of straw fall over. Well, I come from a family that practices that style and has for over 300 years." There's a pause, then a shrug. "In battoujutsu speed and precision are everything, so you aim for this... weird idea of 'one cut, one kill'. End the fight in one clean, decisive attack."
A student of Japanese history and an all around martial arts buff moreso than many a professional fighter can claim to be, Hotaru nods her head readily as he mentions the various sword styles. Not a weapon user herself, she does pick up on the implications of his example easily. But that isn't what surprises her the most. That he comes from a family of sword users elicits a blink from the quiet girl as she remains seated on the step, deciding it's easier than following Frei's constant shifts from lying around, to sitting, to standing, to sword fighting.
"You... ah..." She pauses, sounding reluctant to voice the question foremost on her mind. But she pushes on anyway. "You didn't learn your family's style?" she asks, curious. Tradtional family styles are, after all, an interest of hers. Not only was she raised learning one, but she's actively learning /another/ family's style these days. Not to mention passing on her family's style to a young boy who has become her student.
The monk stays standing, but he turns so he can face Hotaru with a nod. "Oh, I did for the first 16 years of my life or so," he adds blithely, as if this were a trifling thing rather than over 50% of his accrued lifespan. "Training every day... that was my childhood. I'm the eldest son too, so naturally when my..." There's a pause, and he clears his throat. "When the current master passes on or retires, I'm supposed to inherit. Not that it'll happen..." He shrugs at that comment, an oh-well sort of gesture.
Sitting back down, Frei reaches down and pulls at the straps of his wooden sandals for a moment, as if distracting himself with the physical task. "'Musou Tenkei-ryuu'. The characters that make it up mean 'Unparalleled Divine Judgment', and that should give you everything you need to know about it. There's no... philosophical element to the style, you know? Except that one mantra: 'one cut, one kill'. You've never met a bigger bunch of perfectionists than the Tsukitomi clan. It's in our *blood*."
Hotaru is quiet as she listens. So he /does/ know his family style. Sixteen years is a long time to practice anything. It's, well, about how long she's been alive after all. She tries picturing the easy going monk with a real sword at his side, capable of slicing the life from a target with a single move. Battoujutsu. The image just doesn't fit with the young man she's come to know over time.
"I never knew," she remarks, the surprise in her voice expressed with no attempt to hide it. She shakes her head slowly, mouth curling into a faint smile after a long moment. It seems to her that everything that defines Frei is the opposite of how he describes his family. No wonder he said it goes back to his childhood.
"Would you want to inherit it?" she asks, not certain as to the tone detected when he mentions what was /supposed/ to happen, were he not the wayward, wandering monk that he is now.
With a shrug, Frei tosses another pebble down the steps. "Nobody does. Well, that's wrong... I think I mentioned it to Sakura, once, but that's it. I don't really talk about it." And then he goes absolutely silent as Hotaru asks the question Frei's been dreading for years even thinking about. Isis Tsukitomi... she must be in her late 50s by now. Nowhere near death, but he didn't necessarily say 'if the master dies'...
But he eventually shakes his head no. "I have a pair of twin brothers, Threnody and Kataki... they're the diligent sons who didn't run off to college, THEN to China. I'm sure one of them will inherit, I don't really know." His shoulders drop for an instant, as if he were setting down something heavy... and maybe that's not too far from the truth. Eventually, however, he turns to Hotaru and is all smiles. "How about you? Did you learn a family style, or did you study in a dojo? I know you and that Sakazaki guy with the insane wrecking ball were together in Thailand, but... well, if Yuri's any indication of Kyokugen-ryuu, I don't think that's your bag." The change of topic does flow naturally, of course... but does it entirely mask the fact that Frei didn't really answer Hotaru's question?
Hotaru is, perhaps painfully so, easy to deceive or lead along when one wants to. But it isn't so easy to put one over on her with simply a change in topic. She very much knows Frei decided not to answer her question but she isn't going to pry further. If he wants to keep that part of his past to himself then the girl will respect that. He's already told her more than apparently nearly anyone else besides Sakura perhaps, it sounds like, and to ask for more would just be rude. Rudeness is not a trait the orphan exhibits often.
When he shifts the topic to her own style of fighting, Hotaru brightens a little, accepting the topic shift so easily that he might believe she's forgotten all about her own question. "Kenpo as taught to me by my father with some touches from my mother as well. He... never really taught me the pure form that he knew, but rather a distilled version my parents felt better suited their girl." Hotaru admits with a shake of her head. She's seen, or rather /felt/ the pure form in action at the fists of her own brother. Her parents were probably right in teaching her otherwise, but that doesn't mean she doesn't regret not having the power her brother has either.
"Ryo-sensei is teaching me some of Kyokugen-ryuu, it's true." she continues. "It... helps augment what I grew up with. My father hasn't taught me for years now, and without anyone helping me improve, I felt that my abilities had stalled. Kyokugen-ryuu, in its pure form, may not be right for me. But there are elements of it that I have been able to integrate with some practice." The girl speaks of the topic with some fondness in her voice. That Ryo is somewhat like the older, watchful brother she hasn't had for years might factor into things a bit.
Nodding his head, Frei closes his eyes for a moment, taking that all in. He knows that feeling well himself, after all... and it should be obvious he once fell in a similar scenario, since he's not here with a katana buckled to his waist. "That sounds nice. I honestly wasn't really a fighter before I came to Southtown... my master taught me about chi, first. Fighting is just a way to understand it better, because the two are so closely related. But..." He pauses, and holds out his hand, palm up. A little swirly ball of light -- white at the center, but shifting to a prism of color at the ragged edges -- pops into existence, and then out. "...I still had a lot to learn. I couldn't do that little trick before I met Sakura, you know? That's what goes into my version of her Hadouken... though I've found out since she learned it from someone else." There's a pause, and then Frei grins. "Not that it bugs me to know that. If anything, I'm happy I was able to take that on."
After a second, he leans forward, almost hugging his knees, and turns to Hotaru again. "Tell me something. Did you and your father and mother ever... argue over what you learned?" His voice has a sudden thin quality to it, but it could simply be that leaning forward like that is squeezing his diaphragm. "I've wondered what makes parents do that, teach a kid martial arts... and I don't mean, like, self-defense. I mean real, deep down, in the bone martial arts like you use, or... well, damn near anyone else we know. But... that could be my past talking, you know? Maybe knowing it worked out differently for someone else would make me feel better."
The girl on the step watches him, eyes focusing on the swirling ball of light that he manifests briefly before allowing it to fade away. When she was young she would at times demonstrate something similar with her own innate mastery of chi. But her father taught her harshly that to toy with such power was inappropriate and to date she has never manifested any such control outside of her use of chi in combat itself. But when she watches Frei do it, she does begin to question that lesson driven into her so long ago. After all, what's the harm?
"From Ryu, yes," Hotaru replies as he talks about the path of the Hadouken. Hotaru knows a lot about Sakura just from always being interested in what the fighting school girl has managed to accomplish over time. She is something of an inspiration to the Kenpo artist.
At his question about her parents though, Hotaru blinks, her brow furrowing. It's a personal question that delves into facets of her family life that none other had been told of before and she debates telling Frei even now, in spite having become comfortable with discussing weighty matters with him over the course of their time together on this quiet property. In the end, however, she speaks up. "They argued, yes. It... went back and forth a lot. My mother insisted that my father not teach me the more..." she frowns, searching for the right word to describe the portions of the style that were not passed to her. "...shall we say, brute force parts of his Kenpo. My father, on the other hand, felt that I was too weak to even learn anything at all. But my mother insisted that I be taught something... that even if I couldn't be the fighter my brother could that the other lessons of learning a martial art would be important for me. The disciplines, the self control... the stuff beyond just kicking and punching." Hotaru shakes her head slowly, "They went back and forth. But in the end, my father taught me what he did. So I guess it was a compromise."
Pausing for a moment, Frei just observes Hotaru... and then he shakes his head, glancing at the stairs. He reaches down to toss another pebble and realizes, with a surprised look, that he's used them all. Shrugging, he crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry. That must have hurt a lot." It's a simple statement, but there's a great depth of feeling in the monk's voice as he says it. "What a terrible thing to hear from your own parents. The people you want to please the most when you're growing up. I don't know how you withstood it." He pauses briefly, then shakes his head. "I'm *jealous* that you withstood it. I never could. The arguments just got... worse and worse and worse. But the worse the arguments got the more and more I hated wanting to learn the style. Eventually I just... stopped. I wasn't strong enough to keep going. I never really have been."
There's a pause, for just a moment, and then Frei turns to Hotaru with a fire in his green eyes, and the expression on his face is all the more stark for how out of place it is: it starts with curiosity but somewhere in there is fear, maybe even anger. "How did you keep going?! Why are you still using a style that... people who were supposed to love and care for you used to *hurt* you?! I don't..." His eyes shut, he takes in a deep breath... and then the sudden crashing surge of emotion drains out of Frei as he stares down at his open palm, the one that so long ago held that little ball of chi he considered his reward for perserverance on his own path. "I don't know how to be strong. I only know how to protect myself from the things I don't like. I thought... I finally thought I had found a way to live I could be *proud* of, something that was true to myself... but apparently, my 'self' is a superficial, selfish bastard."
As she spoke of her family, of the arguments surrounding her own education, Hotaru had begun to stroke the craddled Itokatsu absently, not even consciously aware of the gesture. The ferret seems content to offer solace by simply lying there, perhaps having spent enough time with the girl to understand her fluctuations in feeling and desiring nothing more than to console him the only way he knows how.
But when Frei's voice rises, the petting motions ceases, Hotaru's eyes widening a little with stark surprise. She's never seen the happy go lucky monk quite like this before and it clearly catches her off guard so much that she leans away from him a little, not even aware that she's doing so.
"I kept going because I wanted my father to be proud of me," the girl answers eventually, her shoulders falling a little as if she was picking up that heavy weight that Frei had unloaded moments ago. "I thought if I pushed myself as hard as possible with everything he taught me, I would prove to him that he was wrong. That I wasn't too weak to be taught. My mother's love was easily felt, I think... but my father's? He... he was a very austere man. I used to think that since then perhaps he would be proud if he could see how I handle myself now. I've come a long way since then. But... well, I've thought about it more lately and I suspect that even if he was paying attention to my career, he might still find me lacking. But now I've come to believe that the problem isn't me." She finishes with a strained smile. The problem is her father. A difficult pill to swallow for the girl who thought her parents perfect, infallible when she was growing up.
She stays quiet for a long while after that, merely looking at Frei as she slowly begins to pet Itokatsu again, the ferret rolling over in her arms to allow her hand to run along his back rather than his belly. "That can't be the case," she corrects, her voice unwavering. "If you were a superficial, selfish bastard," she repeats the descriptors back, even mimicking his tone a little, "... it wouldn't bother you to think that were the case." After all, the true jerk isn't bothered by being a jerk. That's what makes them a bastard. But the reaction she sees in Frei is hardly an aloof, unconcerned shell of a man who cares nothing about anything but himself. Not to her eyes, at least.
It's a ragged little laugh, that Frei gives at Hotaru's blithe dismissal, but it IS a laugh. The monk is quiet for a while, deciding to let the conversation he and Miss Futaba just had hang in the air for a bit. One doesn't blow through a three course meal and then suck down dessert at the speed of light. To Frei, emotions are roughly the same. They come in strong bursts but to just move from one to the next is criminal. Knowing why and how things turned out the way they did... that's useful information.
After a while, he drags a hand across his eyes and speaks up again. "You know... in modern society, we think of 'weakness' as something we want to get rid of, totally and utterly, as soon as humanly possible." He flashes for a moment to his saying the very same words to Alma, the man Frei himself described as his 'weakness'. The monk's unresolved feelings for the model cloud the issue whenever he's involved... but... "I've never felt that way. 'Weakness' is what compels us to become better people. Someone without weakness has no room to grow or change. But... it doesn't always motivate us the same ways. Sometimes we see a weakness and go, 'I want to correct that', and do it. And sometimes... sometimes we see it, and think, 'that's... abject. I disgust myself.'" He pauses a moment, letting that hang in the air too, for a moment.
Eventually, he turns to Hotaru and begins to wear a smile again. "You're right, you know. The problem isn't you and it never was. I don't know that it was your father's either, because I don't know the man... but I'm willing to bet it's nobody's 'fault'. And, uh... I'm sorry for losing it, there. Lately..." There's a pause, and the monk's brow frowns in consternation; he puts a hand to his forehead, almost as if checking to see if he has a fever. "Lately I can't focus. I have this feeling like something terrible is going to happen, all the time..."
The girl is quiet as he speaks of weakness and the ways people might react to it compared to how he does. The phrase weakness can mean so many things. A defect. A failing. Maybe a vulnerability undesired. And the ways to react to the different types are just as varied as are the types. Perhaps that's what he is getting at. A self-disgust that she doesn't quite follow. An emotion she never would have guessed at.
"Perhaps," the girl replies with regards to where the blame should lie for how her father thinks about her. She doesn't know, of course. She hasn't seen him in years. "It's okay, Frei," the girl adds after a moment. She watches with some concern as he seems to check for a temperature. As he expresses a premonition she doesn't dismiss it, herself. Not quite a superstitious girl, she has seen and experienced enough strange things in her own life to suggest that the idea that Frei might literally experiencing some kind of warning of trouble to come is not hard for her to accept.
"If there's anything I can do to help... I mean... if something terrible does happen, I will be here for you if possible. If you would like." comes the humble offer. It's all she can say, really. That she'll be there if he needs. To promise anything beyond that might be committing to something she couldn't keep. All part of how life goes, really.
"I'll keep that in mind," Frei says, and while there is a tone of good humor in that statement, there's an amount of relief in it too. He can't explain, deny, or get rid of that sense of terrible foreboding, which is odd for him... and so knowing that there are people who don't think he's out of his mind and are willing to help is a little reassuring.
Standing up, the monk stretches a third and final time, once again arching his arms overhead, and then steps two stairs down before turning and giving Hotaru a wave. "You might not think so from what we talked about, but this was fun. Take care of yourself, alright? Jiro and Alma are emotionally fragile enough with something happening to you and one of them flipping out." He winks, grinning, at his own joking imprecation on his fellow Glory Hounds.
Back on his feet again. The young man sure doesn't like sitting still for long. Though now it's because he's actually on his way, leaving the girl to spend some quiet time on this large, tranquil property that she has, due to a strange sequence of events that likely few would envy, become the owner of.
Hotaru dips her head as he mentions the dialog as having been fun, replying simply with, "It's been interesting. I'm glad to have had a chance to talk with you more, Frei." As he mentions Jiro and Alma's fragile emotions, she blinks with a bit of surprise before shaking her head, a soft smile at her lips. "Thanks. I guess we all better take care of each other for each other's sake," she finishes with a light laugh. After all, no one in the strange circle of friends would do well to lose anyone else in it. It's a strange inter-dependency that's formed over time. The girl never thought she'd find herself in such a mix after years of solitude.
"Good bye, Frei. And thanks again for the help around here." she finishes, lifting her petting hand to wave after him as he heads out toward the street.
Log created on 01:37:39 10/06/2007 by Frei, and last modified on 11:59:11 10/07/2007.