Description: Right now? Kentou has it all. A wonderful Sensei. A steady job. A roof over his head. The future is looking bright and the boy is walking with confidence. Except.. Hotaru notices that something is missing. And why is the boy not terribly thrilled that she's bringing it up? Oh geez, anything but that Sensei!
"HUT! HUT! HUT!"
The boy's tireless soprano echos throughout the voluminous and austere dojo as the afternoon light filters through half-shuttered windows. One could set a watch by Kentou's attendance. Never does the youth fail to be on-time to start his training. If anything, the youth has been arriving earlier and earlier every day as he's managed to quicken his delivery routes at work in the morning due to his endurance training.
Even when Hotaru herself was neglecting her teaching here, Kentou still came. In the weeks since Hotaru first introduced her family estate to him, this elegant place has become a second home to him. Unless the boy is eating or sleeping, he's training or working. And really, Kentou wouldn't have it any other way.
What more could anyone want?
Personal training by one of the best and most beloved fighters in the entire world - recent dip in popularity not withstanding. Earning his own keep for the day to day. As far as Kentou is concerned, the boy has it all. He's never felt more positive and hearted about his future, and that energy translates directly into his training. He never slacks, never waivers in his conviction.
here's nothing missing in his life anymore, as far as he's concerned!
"HUT!" The youth is now in the midst of a maneuvering exercise. As he has learned from Hotaru, quite often his opponents outweigh him by a good amount. He's had to adapt and figure out new ways to use their size and strength against them. Currently, the boy is working a circuit of movements around a widely swinging kick-bag. The heavy thing swings forth, and the nimble youth runs -towards- it. At the last moment the boy uses footwork to pivot, roll around then -shove- with his shoulder in a single, continuous motion. The bag's momentum perfectly deflects 90' degrees, swinging in a perpendicular angle slightly higher than just before.
And then Kentou quickly repositions and does it again, swinging another 90' degrees away, "HUT!"
For a solid hour he's been at this now. Practicing this same series of movements. At first the bag hardly swung. Now, after an hour of continuously building the momentum in four perfect directions? The two hundred pound bag of sand is swinging nearly straight out from center. The thick chain creaking with every motion. Sweat rolls down his brow, but his movements do not slow. Mercy is not something his opponents ever offer him in a real fight! Giving into exhaustion is not a luxury a warrior can afford!
"HUT!"
And throughout it all this particular session, Hotaru has sat nearby, readily visible through the doors left open facing the traditional styled garden outside, her legs dangling over the wooden walkway surrounding the dojo. Though she has been paying some attention, glancing toward Kentou to monitor the routine he has been engaging in rigorously throughout the last hour, the girl's focus seems to be primarily on two thick textbooks she's got next to her. Now and then she shuffles one of the books off her lap, drawing the other onto her lap to take its place, blue eyes peering over the words, diagrams, and charges therein intently.
'Finals week', she had explained it to Kentou when he had arrived this morning before giving him some things to occupy his time with within the dojo. The week dreaded by all students just before a reprieve is offered in the form of a short break. A time of cramming, late night studying, early morning studying, mid-sleep studying, and mealtime studying. Then it's on to summer school, which she is required to attend to make up for time lost while travelling abroad. Not a top notch student by any means, she does get by, and if she ever wants to get out of High School she needs to buckle down and get through the next few days.
A quiet sigh escapes her lips as the girl glances up toward Kentou, giving her eyes a break from the text in front of her to watch him practice. The momentum of the hanging bag has fallen practically under his complete control, a true indication of the precision he has obtained through rote practice. It's a good use of his muscles, using the shoulder as the means of delivering enough kinetic force to knock someone much heavier than he for a loop.
Watching him practice, with her book on her lap, however, reminds her of something that had crossed her mind more than once before. While the youth under her study may think his life has all the components in it one could ever want for, she knows differently. "Kentou," the girl speaks up, sliding the book off her lap and letting it land on the wood with a thud as she gets up to her feet. "Have you ever been to school?" she asks. The question may seem to be out left field for the barefooted Kenpo fighter, but to one who has spent the last few days with her head burried in books desperately trying to cram just enough facts in to pass her exams, it's a natural enough curiosity.
Stretching her arms out to her sides, she steps forward, leaning against the frame of the open sliding door. She's learned bits and pieces about his life before she met him over time, but the big picture still eludes her. What exactly was his life like before he came to live with Ol' Sak. What things did he experience that sets him apart from other children. What things were the /same/? Perhaps, she ponders, she's been a little negligent, focusing too much on honing his fighting skills and not enough on refining the other core components she knows to be vital to any satisfying life.
Kentou has never once begrudged or dismissed Hotaru for taking time to study. Or any of the other various fighters whom regularly attend high school at the YFCC. Even if it's clear that the boy, himself, engages in no such academic endeavor. A virtually unheard of situation, especially in Japan where education is especially prized.
The youth reasons that he needs to train this much. Hotaru and so many others have such great, natural talent. He may be talented, or so he hopes, but he knows that if he wants to close the distance between himself and his peers he needs to train. And train hard. Every single day.
The kids who go to school? Well. That's good for them. Maybe they'll be great lawyers, doctors or engineers. That's cool.
Kentou knows what his future will be. There's no uncertainty or question. He'll be a fighter soon and then he'll die someday after that.
He can only hope the latter comes long after the former.
The throwing routine is almost hypnotic in its regularity. An easy rhythm to fall into and tune out the world. So tuned into what he's doing, the youth doesn't seem to acknowledge Hotaru's calm voice at first.
It's the audible thud of the book upon the polished wood floor that the boy visibly startles.
"HUT! HUh..?"
The youth's shifting dance pausing in mid motion as his head tilts questioningly, chest rising and falling swiftly as sweat pours down his brow.
Uh oh. That's..
"..I.."
And that's when the 200 pound back smashes into him from behind.
With started yelp, the boy is sent sailing forward through the air only to crash face-first onto the dojo floor - sliding a good ten paces before grinding to a halt.
One could swear the chain is giggling in triumph as the kick bag wobbles around in the wake of the deharmonizing impact.
For several long moments, the boy murmurs something completely unheard into the floor before quickly pushing himself up, "I'm good! It's fine! I.. Ah.. Working that part out! Ah-hem.." Staggering around a few steps back and forth drunkenly as he combs back his long, unruly bangs with his fingers.
His mousey eyes roll in opposite directions a moment before refocusing on Hotaru and the question at hand.
"..S..School.. Oh.." Catching his breath and rubbing the small of his back, his eyes drift to the floor beneath him. Wiping his brow with his forearm after a few more moments of hesitation he finally states, "Well.. Well no. I.. No." Unable to come up with a better way to say it.
Biting his lower lip a moment, he clears his throat and looks back up. Squaring his shoulders, "Mom.. Taught me what I needed to know. She taught me how to read, write.. That kinda thing. Yeah." Nodding firmly to this.
Kentou's been home schooled his entire life. That would certainly explain why to some he seems somewhat.. Naive.
She sees the bag swinging back the moment he turns to face her, though makes no effort to warn the boy of the impending impact. Not wishing him harm, but there is a lesson to be learned in the next three seconds... Don't let side issues distract you in the middle of training until you've completed the routine! If he's going to fight in front of a crowd, it's something he needs to have ingrained into his psyche. A single call from the audience could prove fight-deciding if he looks away at the wrong moment.
"Careful," she remarks, after it's already too late and the boy has been sent sailing a little ways. She is otherwise quiet, patiently waiting for him to get back up, not moving from where she leans against the wooden frame. He gets back up, taking a moment to clear his vision and brush back his bangs. She's smiling by the time he sets eyes on her again. The girl has been cheerful as of late, as of a metric ton of burden has been lifted from her shoulders.
'No' will suffice, but he goes on to clarify. His learning was his mother's resposibility. Hotaru nods her head slightly at the revelation. She learned a lot about life at the feet of her own mother, but there's a lot of things one just isn't likely to learn that way. "Hm..." comes the soft reply. He should be familiar with the sound by now - indicitive of her thinking on something that she hasn't quite settled on for certain.
"Reading and writing is important," the girl contemplates, her right hand coming, her fingers resting lightly against her cheek as she continues to consider. "But there's more to be learned than just that. You can learn a lot about the world by attending school. Math, vocabulary, how to speak about things like the history of Japan or other countries around the globe."
She pauses, mouth pursed in a frown of thought for a moment before she asks, smile returning faintly, "Is there a reason you didn't attend school before?" She can guess at a couple reasons why, but perhaps there's something else to be learned in simply finding out the truth about it. Nodding her head to the side, Hotaru steps back out onto the porch, taking her seat at the edge once again, "Come sit down, you're due for a break." she adds, positioning herself to face the garden's tranquil pond, her hands returning to rest in her lap.
Of course, Hotaru is somewhat higher ranked than mere 'audience' in his sensibilities. However! Its an excellent lesson to learn.
It will undoubtedly save him future pain in the rump. Ow.
Kentou has been delighted for his Sensei's turn around. For the grevious bodily harm she had nearly inflicted upon his person, the boy holds absolutely no grudge. While he may never forget that moment, it is proof of what he always knew to be true.
At that moment, the most critical of moments, Hotaru turned out to be precisely what Kentou always knew she was.
That alone earned forgiveness. That alone deserves to be rewarded with joy, and the smile he returns to her is completely genuine. Chuckling underbreath sheepishly at his self-inflicted plight.
If casting an accusing look to the wiggling bag behind him. There will be a reckoning, you inanimate object you. =.=
As far as his previous education goes... Well. The boy sees no reason to apologize for it! He certainly doesn't need to explain himself or his family's actions. Or so he'll repeatedly remind himself.
While Kentou was just about to nod with a smile as Hotaru acknowledges the answer then contentedly continue training - The youth pauses in mid-turn. His Master's added commentary on the virtues of education prevents him from simply moving along. After all, the Student doesn't turn his back to his Teacher when she's talking to him! While training is somewhat casual at the moment, the boy ever tries to follow a certain level of decorum.
Though, as Kentou turns to face the Kenpo artist once more, he certainly doesn't seem all that eager to contemplate the place of academia, "..Well.. I guess its .. Kinda importantn'allsure.." His voice quietly trailing into a noncommital mumble. Thoughts starting to turn back towards that kick-bag again. Maybe if he leveraged his off-foot a little more on the turn he can transfer the force better between swings? Yeah.. He should try that. That'll work! Hotaru is always teaching him about how energy should flow. Instructor Frei was always talking about how the fluidity of energy gives its power. Maybe if he can apply some of th-
Oh wait, Sensei is still on that school thing.
Kentou's eyebrow quirks a moment, audibly acknowledging the question with a quiet grunt. "..Mmn.." To be honest, this wasn't an issue he foresaw coming up. But then, the boy does suffer from tunnel vision in a way. Only seeing his primary goal. The little details like 'school' or 'friends'. Well..
He doesn't really think long enough on those matters to have a satisfying answer on-hand.
Regardless, as Hotaru bids him to take a break, the youth offers a wane smile. "H..Hai, Sensei."
Taking his time, the boy cautiously skirts around the girl's seated position. His slow, lazy movements are a cover to give himself time to better consider his answer. His feet dangling over the edge of the dojo, his hands folded into his lap, the boy looks out to the tranquil pond. Adrenaline from the exercise still coursing in his veins, limbs throbbing with effort.
"It's.. Ah.. That is to say." Fingertips pressing together as he looks down to his lap, "Father. He .. Didn't want me in school. It.. Distracts ... from being a real warrior."
The boy then quickly looks up, his voice quick and rushed, "And.And it gets in the way of training! I mean, I probably wouldn't be like.. a tenth as good as I am now if I wasted time with learning stuff I'll never use! I mean.." His gaze slowly returning to the pond, ".. I'm gunna be a fighter. I want to fight. That's.. I want that to be my whole life. I work. I mean, it's not like I don't have a job.. I know how to .. ya know.. do stuff." Waving his hand in a generally indicative fashion.
The girl listens quietly, giving Kentou all the time he needs to get an answer out, her attention seemingly fixed on a pair of birds that have taken to playing in the shallows on the far side of the pond. She can tell the subject matter isn't one he cares to pursue. And who can blame him? On a nice afternoon like this, with training and practicing to be done, why shift gears to something as boring as /school/? "He didn't?" she asks as he mentions his father not wanting school to get in the way. She sounds a little surprised at the revelation. A parent who didn't want their kid educated by the system isn't something she'd ever encountered before.
"Hm..." she then remarks as he continues, that same contemplative tone again. "Well... the learning obtained in school can help you learn faster in other areas as well. Get your brain used to learning and remembering new things from a book, and it'll be sharper to record and recall things you see happen in a fight." she continues, tapping the side of her head as she grins at the boy before lowering her hand back to her lap.
She's quiet for a moment then. The connection of learning with fighting is part of the issue, but it isn't the only one, and in fact, it might be the least important one. "The thing is, Kentou," the girl speaks up again, her voice more serious now, "While fighting can be a predominant focus in one's life, it can't be the only one... You may want to be a fighter all your life, and there's nothing wrong with that. But even the samurai of old learned the art of caligraphy. The shogun knew that their warriors would be even better if they were learned and in tune with the thoughts brought forward by learning about matters beyond only sword fighting and war..."
She reaches to the side and pats one of the two textbooks she was reading earlier. "I learned all about that by reading this history book." she remarks, looking back toward Kentou, hands returning to her lap. "But there's other considerations to keep in mind as well. I know it seems impossible right now, but the time might come when you want to do something other than fight... Or, if the worst happens, and you find yourself permanently injured and unable to continue being a fighter... if those things happen, it will be a sound education that serves you then. It's not something you can neglect. A master Kenpo artist needs to strengthen both the body and the mind, and the best way to handle the latter is by getting an education."
The girl exhales softly. This is an awkward talk to have. She is by no means, herself, an avid student. So while she knows the virtues of an education from what she's been taught by her mother and from her own experiences, she feels a little bit like a hypocrit to trump it up as being so important when she herself is dreading the upcoming week with all her poor warrior's heart. "You're old enough to attend High School now. I think it would be best for you to enroll." she states quietly. She can't order him... beyond what compliance he gives nearly request she speaks of him, but this subject is a bit more important than that.
Considering how expertly so many other kids a few years older than him fight, Kentou is astonished more aren't like him. Shunning everything else in life solely to focus upon the fight. Maybe these other fighters with such natural talent that they make it look stupidly easy they can just train a few hours a week and stay incredibly good.
But Kentou? He works hard. That's what he was taught. Hard work. Perseverance. Training. Practice, practice, practice. If he's gained a modest amount of skill, it's due entirely to both his hard work and Hotaru's profound teachings.
Which is why when Hotaru is actually advising to spend time doing something other than training, the boy is flummoxed.
As she elaborates on how a wider intellectual education can have an impact on combat, the boy slowly turns his considering eyes to her. Lips pouting slightly as his eyes narrow in thought, nodding slowly.
It does make sense, after all. He recalls his earlier teachings clearly. Don't be so narrow-minded. Broaden his outlook and look for strengths in other areas, other styles and schools of thought.
"...That.. That is true.." The boy admits to this sound logic, eyes drifting away slowly. While the logic is clear and the strategy is appealing, he cannot quite manage up his usual gusto for this particular suggestion.
Fighting may be the least important aspect of a modern education, but it is all the boy understands. Of the revelation that samurai and bushi of old also followed paths of enlightenment and scholarly pursuits.. Well, Kentou didn't read that book.
Heck. When was the last time Kentou ever read anything in Hotaru's presence?
"That won't h-" Kentou silences himself with an audible click of his jaws snapping shut. The very idea that something unforeseen, unimaginable, ending his career? Kentou won't think about that. He refuses to think about that. He'd never live like that. He'd.. Well.. He doesn't know what he'd do.
Death before dishonor makes for a great soundbite, but he isn't about to use that logic as a retort. Especially when he already knows what she'd say to that. She'd never train a fanatic.
Even though she already is?
Kentou's gaze returns to her in full now. If there is any accusation of hypocrisy, it does not show in his eyes. He'd never judge her like that. The path of the fighter is one that is self-appointed. She's proven herself to be a fierce warrior and honorable combatant - recent events unincluded. Hotaru is a wonderful person who has a lot to offer the world outside of fighting. The boy hardly looks down upon those who want to steer their lives outside of battle. For that matter, there are those that Kentou feels they should turn their lives towards other pursuits than fighting. Mizuki-san, for instance, could do so much good for the world. He could never encourage her to focus on mere fisticuffs, when she has such a -gift- for helping others.
Kentou? Well. The boy has no 'gift', he's worked hard for everything he's gotten. He has nothing to give the world. He's giving everything to his family name. Other, minor details, don't add into it.
As Hotaru-Sensei offers that sagely suggestion, his hand flexes slowly on his knee. Lips press firmly together as his eyes glimmer in contemplation. If those words came from anyone else, Kentou would tell them to buzz off.
No good personal arguments come to mind, no matter how hard he fights to put one on the tip of his tongue. He just doesn't want to do it. Hotaru, Sakura, they've all had educations and their fighting careers are everything the boy's ever dreamed of. School has done nothing to slow them down. If anything, maybe it has given them an edge that the boy lacks.. As Hotaru, herself, is saying now.
In the end, he may not have a personal argument, but the matter isn't even really for him to decide. As much as his life revolves around Hotaru's words and his own chosen hobby, in the end, there's someone else who legally controls what Kentou can and cannot attend.
"...I.. Well I can't." The boy qu
"...I.. Well I can't." The boy quietly adds in a hesitant tone. Unused to refusing even the most subtle whim Hotaru would have, and he isn't entirely sure if he wants to refuse this one, but.. "Ol' Sak ... He needs me."
Oh how Kentou hates to admit that! Grimacing like a boy swallowing bad medicine.
"I.. I just don't have the time. I work all morning and he's got nobody else.. I.. I'll just have to make due."
Not to mention, Kentou works for room and board mostly. Even if he did quit and the old bastard hired some other errand boy, Kentou'd be out on the street. But such matters, well, above and beyond the fact that that ancient windbag is still his legal guardian... Kentou still does care for him. He'd never abandon him so selfishly.
She is as ever attentive to his words, not cutting him off as he speaks, waiting for him to finish explaining about his situation with the shopkeeper who gives him board, food, and the joys of a steady, if rather grueling job. She's quiet when he says that he'll have to make due, looking neither disappointed nor resigned to his response.
Her hand slips to her side, taking hold of the second of the two books she had been reading earlier. A hefty tome, it no doubt has contributed to her strength training as she's toted it around in her backpack over the last year of school. Literature is a weighty matter. Flipping the book open to the middle, her nimble fingers begin shuffling through various pages until she comes to rest on a page that seems to be what she was seeking for. "During the Sengoku Jidai," the girl remarks, "All of Japan was in a state of war." The age of constant warfare that many of the real world legends of Japan had originated from, including the likes of Oda Nobunga. "This was the time of the samurai," she continues, hand patting the page lightly, her face lowered though her eyes only briefly focusing on the book from time to time as if speaking mostly from memory.
"There was among their ranks a samurai if legendary honor. Date Masamune." A legend of the warring age of Japan, his name of Masamune forever linked with exceptional power. "He earned the name of One Eyed Dragon when he was wounded in battle. The account has it that his eye injured and hung down his cheek... In order to prevent it from being a liability in the ongoing fighting, he cut it away and continued to fight with all his strength, all his honor." She speaks with a certain amount of reverence as she continues, discussing someone whom she clearly believes to be an inspirational example. She glances back toward Kentou then, her hand still resting on the page, her expression somber, thoughtful, yet resonating with a certain quiet joy. "One might think that a man such as he, in a time such as that would have no time for anything other than fighting and bloodshed in the name of his shogun."
Her hand pats the book again, eyes lowering back to the pages, "But like the rest of the samurai, he too had studied the art of poetry. On one occasion when he was so moved by the beauty of Mount Fuji that he penned the following." Her finger runs along the page beneath her, finding the start of the poem.
"Each time I see Fuji,
It appears changed
And I feel I view it
Ever for the first time."
Her voice is quiet by the time she finishes, her expression thoughtful as she closes the book and slides it off of her lap. "I believe if Date Masamune had time enough to become educated in such an era as that, we can too, even if at first it doesn't seem like there is any way we can fit it into our lives." The girl focuses on Kentou, her expression revealing perhaps a small degree of the concern she continually harbors for his well being.
"I think you need to talk to him about this, Kentou." the girl continues. "But when you do, you need to believe that it really is as important as I hope I've impressed upon you or else he'll know that you don't mean it. If it's important enough to you... and he can see that... then something will work out. The two of you will find a way to make it happen. After all, you already managed to let him have me train you." she finishes with a quiet smile.
The boy never relishes being negative in Hotaru's presence. The negative reply leaves a bad taste in his mouth and an awkward silence hanging in the air. While the youth will admit to being somewhat intrigued by the prospect of schooling and how it could improve his life... Well. Ol' Sak is turning out to be a useful excuse.
As Hotaru simply begins to turn to her books once again, the boy nods in affirmation. Silently letting her return to her studies as she probably wants to distance her interests from the question. Just beginning to rise to his feet before she speaks up once more.
The unfolding words seize the youth in place. His hands affixed to the edge of the dojo at either-side of him, half-risen from his seating. Mousy eyes blinking, slowly beginning to realize the recitation is for his benefit and slowly sinks back to his seat. Curious.
Date.. Masamune.. Even he's heard of that name..
At the grotesque descriptions of the injuries of battle and tenacity, the boy can't help but wince. But as the story continues, Kentou finds himself more and more enthralled. The quiet reverence his Master holds for these words echos in his ears and mind, unable to help but feel some of that same exaltation that she feels.
His eyes slowly close as the poetry reaches his thoughts, head bowing slightly as the images of that sacred mountain run in his mind. He can almost picture it, seeing Date Masamune on horseback, looking out across the distance to see that monument to nature across the surrounding lake shores.
The youth sits beside her, completely entranced even as she regards him directly once again. His gaze opening slowly like awakening from a dream.
Coming around as her point is driven home. The gentle rebuke to the boy's sensibilities striking true, his head bowing a fraction further in sober acknowledgement.
No. If Masamune could afford time to be educated, Kentou has no excuse.
Only then does Kentou finally return her gaze, an expression somewhere between helplessness and fatalism. He knows, in his heart of hearts, that he should go to school. Deep down, buried underneath a litany of excuses his family and guardians have layered over the matter and allowed him to excuse himself from something he didn't want to do anyway.
At her last sentence, the boy fights back a sudden laugh from the back of his throat. If only she knew...
"Alright.. O..Okay.." Nodding once more in slow, reluctant compliance, "..I'll... I'll ask him." The beginnings of a smile teasing the edges of his lips.
So very rarely has Hotaru told Kentou exactly what he must do. Barking commands, dishing out orders just never quite seemed to be in her nature - a stark contrast from the way she was raised, her father's word as if the word of the Emperor himself within the Futaba household. But that doesn't mean she gives up trying to be persuasive, convincing, or providing reasons for the boy to take the actions she think would be best for him.
If she can't provide compelling enough reasons then she probably needs to re-evaluate her own thoughts on the matter anyway. But as she puts aside the book and gives Kentou what would be her final thoughts on the matter for the time being if she wasn't able to make any progress, she can tell that he's weighing her words carefully, and that's all she can ask for.
As the youth states that he will ask the older shopkeeper who has taken care of him, Hotaru's smile warms, the girl leaning forward, propping her elbow against her knee, her knuckles against the side of her head as she looks at Kentou proudly. "Good." she remarks. She's spoken that to him before, during drills and spars, a single word in affirmation of his progress. But when she says it this time it is with a different weight to it. What he's agreed to do is a reflection of his soul, in her eyes. Trusting faith at her words, and the strength to commit to do what he knows to be the right thing.
"I know something will work out," she states. Will he have to get up even earlier to do his rounds? Perhaps. Will he have to cut into some of his training hours for the purpose of keeping up with school? Most likely. Will he be better for it? Of that she's certain.
"Now get back to practicing," the girl grins, sitting up straight again. "I think it's time for you to get ready to compete and show the world what a fighter you've become. I'll talk to the leagues about getting you scheduled," she continues, her tone deliberately casual, as if the matter wasn't one of any great significance, the girl reaching over to drag her history text back onto her lap and flip the heavy book open.
While the youth is uncertain about this decision's outcome, Kentou knows he has to at least try. Considering the last... conversation he had with Ol' Sak.. He has a feeling this may be asking for too much. The old codger is a stubborn fossil! The last argument he had with him a few weeks ago was so bad, the boy was nearly thrown out onto the street as is.
But.. Seeing Hotaru's pleased smile and warm complement eases much of the anxiety he feels over the matter. Kentou always finds it hard to stay tense or worried whenever she has that serene look on her face. Not that the boy often gives into despair.
With a final nod to his mentor's suggestion something will work out, the boy then takes a deep breath of the springtime air. His arms lifting and waving back and forth widely, loosening up the muscles in his shoulders and upper back.
"Hai Sensei!" Kentou replies with much gusto as she orders his return to training, something the youth is definitely not confused about! Immediately getting to his feet in a bound of motion..
...And then nearly falling onto his face as he stumbles about at the shocking announcement.
"W..W...What?!" The boy sputters, arms flailing for balance as he spins on his heel to face the young teacher with a dumbfounded stare. The difference in reaction between the two couldn't be any more night and day. For Kentou, this is a big, biiiiiiiiig deal.
After all, the boy's flub on national television practically cost him his career before it had even started. Saturday Night Fight wouldn't take him back and Neo League told him to forget about it. They don't take cowards, they had told him. Point blank.
The league only takes the best of the best. The greatest fighters in the entire world participate in it. It isn't just a little trifling hobby league. Its -THE- league. And she wants him to sign up for it?
"I... S..Sensei! I.. I'm over.. Overwhelmed!" The stammering boy regathers himself in halting, trembling motions as he quickly bows deeply - sword in fist salute. "I won't let you down! I won't!"
Another chance, another chance! That's all he's wanted since that terrible, ill-fated fight! Another chance to prove himself, his courage and honor.
Certainly, the boy has come far enough in his training to realize just how far he has to go. His journey towards proficiency and honor has only JUST begun, and the league is filled with fighters who're much, much further along in their progress than he. To be able to fight and learn from their example?
He's having a hard time standing still, positively vibrating in excitement!
With her head bowed, the girl appearing to be burried once again in her book, Kentou wouldn't be able to see the grin on her lips as the girl turns to the next page ever so slowly, seemingly unaware of his excitement.
But she can only keep up the charade for so long before Hotaru finally glances up and looks over her shoulder toward Kentou, her expression radiating the pride she has for how far he's come. It's time for him to step out of the sheltered world of being simply her trainee and actually see what it's like to be a real fighter in real competitions. All she can hope is that she's prepared him properly for it - that she's correctly helped him mold himself into the growing fighter he wants to be.
"I know you won't, Kentou." Hotaru states calmly, looking away, back toward the book on her lap. "I know you won't."
Log created on 22:50:14 05/05/2008 by Kentou, and last modified on 00:37:49 05/07/2008.