Description: Master and Student have much to catch up on as the Strolheim tournament looms near. Kentou has had the priviledge of facing amazing fighters over the last few months and Hotaru is curious to know what he's learned from their example. Old training reviewed and new training is revealed, as Kentou nears the big time.
With Fall rolling in to gradually replace the end of Summer days, the mornings have taken on a crisp, cool nature as of late. Outside the traditional looking Futaba dojo, the trees have begun to shift through Autumn colors - golds, browns, oranges, and reds; many depositing their leaves in the pond and man made stream that crosses one edge of the estate property. With the sun only recently peeking over the distant horizon, a thick mist blankets the ground, concealing grass and rock beneath an obscurring layer of grey. Were one to look at the building from the outside, it would almost seem to be afloat in a cloud of those swirling mists.
Only one end of the dojo sits open at this time as Hotaru meditates out on the poarch overlooking the fog enshrouded garden. Eyes closed, legs crossed, head bowed, she engages in the same ritual she has done at least once every few days since the summer before. There is a balance to be maintained. Her gift with chi manipulation has grown remarkably over time, but the need to mitigate it has not gone away. It's the crucial detail she believes her father and brother failed to find - that essential counter against the Futaba family trait that seems to lead to madness.
With each slow, long drawn inhale, her right hand flickers to life, a red-orange flame coursing over it, before she exhales slowly and it fades just as gradually. An exercise she takes very seriously but one she has spoken of to no one. Few have even seen it. Even fewer since her months spent toying with a technique she should have never touched. The similarities in color manifested would be impossible to miss. And there was no denying that they were related - her meditation exercise and that horrific Satsujinken. But while the technique could be eschewed, she believes the exercise to be crucial. Best to simply keep it her secret and avoid any awkward explanations though.
There are differences, however. The small birds occasionally winging down to land on her shoulders, toying with her hair with their beaks, then swopping back up to the nearby trees. The peaceful, contemplative smile on her face; the calm, relaxed posture. The color maybe the same. And even the counter-balance nature of the energy she draws upon with each breath may bear similarties. But that manifested chi is most definitely not the same corrupted horror she had brought to life in months past.
Early morning, but she's not expecting to be alone. Kentou will be along in a little while. But it's early yet, she thinks to herself, her thoughts lost in the contemplative journey in her mind. She has time before he is expected. He's come so far, she knows. But there's more still yet to teach him. The boy is growing, venturing into the big scary world of sanctioned matches. It's been years since she first stepped foot into such things. Years since she had to experience the excitement and terror of facing opponents leagues ahead of her. He'll tough it out, she ponders, that smile on her lips warming another small degree.
Oh the simple days of a few months ago.
Kentou remembers a time when all he had was simple delivery work for the shop and rigorous training at his Sensei's dojo. While life had its ups and downs, especially within a period of Hotaru's ... Issues ... The boy can honestly say it was a wonderful time of his life. A summer vacation of a sort the likes of which he never thought he'd have. No trouble with gangs or serious violence. Under Sensei and Frei's teachings, he has become much more than he once was. He had fought with his own idols and impressed every single one. The path of his life and his progress along it was clear and obvious.
Life, he thought, could not get any better than that.
And then school happened.
The boy cannot recall being more out of his element than wearing that monkey suit with a briefcase of books at his side surrounded by chirping older kids who talk incessantly about completely meaningless things. Its been.. A different experience. A different way of life that he'd never known. Being surrounded by all those people at all times is.. Ugh, it drives him insane.
To say nothing of the academics. Of which he's.. woefully behind. He's in the easiest, most basic classes at Pacific and even then he's been struggling to focus and stay on task. And school has hardly begun yet!
Every day feels like he's lost in a jungle of hallways and uniforms. His eyes usually glued to the clock on the wall. Desperately forcing the minute hand to move faster with willpower alone. Waiting until he can race out of that place, change out into his comforting training uniform and return..
Here.
This place. He can't get here fast enough. Stepping out of his worn Chinese slippers at the edge of the property to feel the mist-cooled grass under his feet. Stirring the grey clouds about his ankles as he sighs in relief. In many ways, this is becoming his real home. Not that cubby-hole of a nest he sleeps in at Ol' Sak's. This heavenly vision is where he chooses to live. Every moment of every day that is not demanded of him elsewhere, he spends here. When Hotaru-Sensei is too busy with her incredibly dense schedule to train him personally, he is still here, training himself. When he daydreams at school, he's here. Doodling little pictures of leaves from the trees in varying states of the seasons. He has never taken this place for granted. Never stepping upon or near the stone path with anything less than reverence. Not since the day Sensei brought him here.
Perhaps some might consider the weather gloomy. Himself, Kentou does prefer spring more than the blistering heat of summer or the frost of winter. Sometimes, however, there's something magical about the onset of autumn. A beauty reflected in the somber tones of the sky and the melancholy of the landscape. It is a quiet, spiritual moment and Kentou is content to pause a moment in his approach to look over the mist-veiled pond and the dojo nestled upon the clouds.
An orange glimmer catches his attention. Dark eyes turning towards the wooden surrounding porch, and his Sensei meditating thereupon. Her posture is familiar to him, as he commonly meditates along with her for several of his exercises. The orange glow, regrettably, also familiar. While the youth has a few misgivings, she has earned his infinite trust and more. He never doubts her word. This is part of her plan and her training.
The boy will never forget that same orange glow almost killed him. Almost. Almost.
Realizing he did get here earlier than she had asked, the boy slowly looks away. Taking one more reassuring gaze over the serene grounds before audibly stepping upon the stone of the path. Knowing, in such a sensitive state, his footsteps will be as obvious as church bells ringing at high noon. Giving her that much warning ahead of time, he briskly increases his pace before bounding to a halt before the dojo proper, "Sensei!" His fist pressing to palm, Sword in Sheath, "I'm ready to begin my lessons for the day!" His ritual greeting, never spoken with less than pe
perfect sincerity.
That foostep against stone goes easily heard. How could it not? The air is still, leaves quiet, and even the birds, content to hang around, have silenced their song as if in reverance for the tranquil estate property. When abandoned by her living relatives, she had turned away from the dojo, sealing it up with lock and key. Oh, sure, the estate staff still had a key and the interior was dusted and polished routinely. But for her, the building was a sealed part of her life she was never sure when she would open again. Childhood memories of watching her father train her brother, or the long hours she spent trying to prove that teaching her anything wasn't a waste of time were too strong, too poignant, to come back.
Locking them away felt like the better course. For years she lived away from the Futaba Estate. Dwelling in apartments, travelling the world, and a long tenure at the Kyokugen Dojo. It took the opportunity to train Kentou within the hallowed structure to bring her here again. To bring her back home. Now she lives within the home, empty feeling as it may be, and what limited free time she has is often spent in this very dojo. When she closes her eyes, the images of years past often drift through her mind. Only they have lost their painful sting, the sensation replaced with fond nostalgia or much needed introspection... She doesn't fear them anymore.
Sapphire blue eyes open, the girl's head lifting as she releases a slow exhale. That red-orange flame flickers and dies, no longer sustained by her deep concentration. Unfolding her legs, she turns, pushing up to her knees then on up to standing, a serene smile crossing her features as she sets sight on the boy. "Good." she responds as she so often does. "We don't have a lot of time. I need to be on a plane in a few hours. They're sending to me Hawaii this time." By them she clearly means Howard Enterprises. She is, if anything, very consistant in her appearances in the weekly bouts. "For the /whole/ weekend," she adds, sounding more chipper about the idea. "It's rough, but someone's gotta do it," the girl finishes with a grin. Who doesn't want an all expenses paid trip to Hawaii for a weekend?
Stretching her arms out at her sides as blood flow eases up, restoring strength to her limbs, she then clasps her hands behind her back, walking slowly toward the boy, looking him over as if inspecting him. Perceptive, she's often conducted such visual inspections at the start of their time together. And she's often picked up on times when things were troubling him. "How's school?" she asks, her expression suggesting she doesn't expect him to say it's all sunshine and roses. She knows he's behind. There's no getting around it. Only one thing will get him caught up to his grade though. And that's determination and hard work.
She has threatened him that if she finds out his grades are slipping, some of their precious training time together will find itself replaced with combined STUDY time, heaven forbid! If that isn't a motivating reason to keep up on his schoolwork, maybe nothing is. The girl walks in a circle around him before coming back in front of him again, looking pleased at the completion of her inspection.
Kentou has some idea of what this place truly means to her, for he too remembers his father's dojo. Though, that place was a hovel compared to this magnificence. However, memories can tie one to a place, grant it meaning far and above the beauty of its craftsmanship. In the months of his apprenticeship, he's learned a thing or two about the specifics of Hotaru-Sensei's past, but not the details. Through all this, he can tell that she has become vastly more comfortable being here today than when she had first returned. Her apprehension for being here, at first, was a palpable thing the alert student could not ignore. What transpired here so long ago puzzles him, but he would never ask something so personal of her. It is not his place. Besides this, one of the greatest lessons he's learned is not to dwell on the past. Boldly meet the future head on. Hotaru herself has come so very far as a fighter in just the time the boy has known her. Whatever tether of anxiety this place held her down with, she has since freed herself of it. Kentou sees no reason to help give it power over her again through idle curiosity.
Besides. Idle the boy is not.
As Hotaru rises and offers him that heart-melting smile she's so thoroughly mastered and captured the hearts of thousands of fans the world over with, Kentou can't help but grin in kind. At once, whatever anxiousness he was feeling over the flickering image of that orange power is completely dismissed. His heels strike together as he stands up tall, displaying proper, respectful discipline as his dark eyes look straight ahead. He tries to wipe the expression from his face, but he finds it impossible to completely erase that pleased smile from his lips.
As his Master delightedly mentions her next destination, Kentou's grin strengthens as he adds, "I understand, Sensei. Life is hard, Sensei!" A somewhat sly expression creeps into his smile, but the jab doesn't venture into the territory of sarcasm. Kentou is truly happy for her, she could use a little time off! Her schedule has been so incredibly busy and with so many things going on in her life, he's happy to see her get some nice vacation time on a tropical island. Take it easy, the whole works! She really, truly deserves it.
Not to mention, Kentou isn't jealous. He wouldn't even know what to do with himself in such a place! He has far too much training and studying to do than to waste time doing.. well.. nothing. Vacations are strange and foreign concepts that way.
The Kenpo Master has known the boy for so long, seen him virtually every single day, its hard to see precisely how much he's changed. Its been nearly a year to the day since she first met him and the boy has just arrived at the very beginning of his teenage years. A little taller now, very nearly looking eye to eye with the young woman. His body toned, gaining a wiry musculature hinting at the man he will one day become. His hard training has begun to reflect in his appearance and age is slowly creeping into him. Little by little.
And when school is mentioned, his smile goes away all at once. Kentou is not one at obfuscating his emotions or his feelings. He's something of an open book. Right now, its bookmarked on chapter three, 'I Hate Classes'.
"..Hard." Kentou replies after a fashion. As tempting as it is to dismiss his problems and say 'Pretty good', even such a casual lie leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "I.. I'm working on it, Sensei." He hastily adds. Not quitting his obligation. He knows the stakes involved! He does try. He doesn't play hooky and he does sit down and do his homework. It feels like its draining his spirit by inches, but he does it all the same. The idea of wasting MORE time studying when he could be here doing what he REALLY wants to do keeps him motivated. With fear, if nothing else.
Still, its a subject he'll be grappling with for some time. As Hotaru completes her circuit, his eyes have drifted off to some distant point beyond in the dojo. Unable to quite meet her questioning glance on the matter.
She has avoided speaking much of her history with Kentou. Some details one would get with even just a casual inquiry into the rather famous fighter's past. Orphened a few years ago, a mother lost to sickness, a brother and father who's whereabouts are completely unknown... Grew up a few years in mainland China, and has been a rising star in all the circuits ever since her return to the fighting scene over a year and a half ago. More than that, however, would probably require deeper investigation. She's always considered her story one he needn't be burdened with. It was a big enough distraction for her. She didn't need to pass it on to another. Thus while he easily detects the nostolgia with which she often views the dojo, the precise experiences that come to her mind likely go unknown.
His response with regards to her trip to the island state provokes a grin in reply, "Yeah. Should be fun. I'm actually meeting one of your fellow students there. Marisol O'Connell. I'm not sure what grade she's in though." It's a convenient connection to the topic of school that's on her mind all the sudden. A topic shift that provokes a very visible change in emotion on the boy's face. That's to be expected.
He admits that it's hard. But adds that he's working on it. "You'll catch up. It's just going to take time." She shakes her head and exhales a little. "For some kids, studying and learning at school comes easy, but they might find the kind of training that you can handle to be absolutely impossible. Everyone has different strong points but by working on the areas that are challenges for us, we can get past them with time."
She completes her circle, looking at the growing young man levelly. It hasn't escaped her that he's caught up to her in height practically. Not that he had far to go to accomplish that. It occurs to her that someday she'll probably have to look up to see him eye to eye. The thought is a strange one for her for the moment before it fades. He's growing. She's growing. Time continues on. They'll both be adults someday. Will she still be his teacher then? Or will he have learned all she can possibly teach him?
"How are you getting along with the other students?" she asks, inspecting him for any signs of scuffles or bruises. She's been the 'new kid' at High School more than once. And more than once she found that having any kind of reputation as someone who could fight tended to draw attention, sometimes painfully so. As she thinks on it, she only knows one girl at Pacific beyond the point of mere aquaintance. But she can't help but wonder if introducing the boy to the American bombshell, Tiffany, is the best idea.
Of course.. Kentou is curious. There is a mystery to the young mistress of kenpo.
For instance, she's never said a single word about her father.
The boy sees his name every single day. His unseen presence continues to be felt in this hallowed hall. His trophies, his weapons, his commendations of merit--His name. Clearly the man must have been responsible for putting the girl on her path. If the daughter is but a fraction of the warrior her father was, the man must be an incredible fighter. A name that should be as renowned as Ryu or Chun-Li.
Yet.. Nothing. All but disappeared off the face of the Earth. Absently the boy had done a bit of research here and there, looking for any and all fighters of previous decades that carried the name Futaba. He isn't exactly the world's most dedicated library-hound and reading for too long tends to make his eyes glaze over.
Gato Futaba, however, is a much more known quantity. There's been a handful of fights with him on record and the man has seemed somewhat.. severe. Not the sort of person Kentou would want to know personally and he can understand why Hotaru isn't going out of her way to reunite with him. Still, the fact that Hotaru's star continues to rise does put a brighter spotlight on who she is and where she came from. The boy, himself, would certainly love to know more about her if he could.
Maybe another time..
As Hotaru speaks of a 'fellow student' the youth blinks in surprise, eyes shifting over to Sensei. It takes him a moment to realize that Hotaru wasn't talking about another student at the YFCC or under her own tuteledge. The notion that the boy has actual high school mates is a context he's still getting used to. The name 'Marisol' rings a bell faintly. He thinks he's heard the name in the Neo League or SNF rosters. One of the newer fighters over the last year if he remembers right. He.. Didn't even realize she went to Pacific until his Master mentioned it just now. He hasn't exactly been.. Integrating with his peers terribly well. "..Ahh..." Is all he can say on that subject.
Again, the youth nods as she acknowledges the difficulties of classes. His eyes drifting ahead once more as he considers her words. True.. There are those who couldn't even begin to hack the sort of life that Kentou leads. He can't help but notice that every single day he's at that school. Surrounded by people who babble endlessly about things that the youth doesn't even consider slightly important. The latest bands. Sports. Clothing. Jobs. Popular people he doesn't even remember the names of. Whenever he walks those halls or on campus his ears fill with a droning sound.. It seems all so meaningless to him. So inconsequential. He doesn't truly think himself better than them or that kind of arrogance, he inwardly insists. Its simply that.. They're so different. Their lives are different, more like the sort one would see on TV. 'Normal' he guesses.
It continually calls into question why he's even there. Perhaps there's merit in learning economics at least. A basic education in how to manage finances better maybe, home economics, basic math and such like. Practical things. Things he can see the use of in the long run.
Apart from that? .... He just doesn't know. Maybe that's why he should be there.
"...I don't know." He replies honestly. His gaze still distant.
Cuts and bruises? Ha Ha. No. While Pacific holds its share of fighters who could fight the boy to a stand-still or likely defeat him soundly.. He hasn't met them yet. It seems the gang they call the 'Pacific Resistance' is a bit reclusive to the unpopular. The other preppy foreign kids that try to push around the young little China boy?
They can't even lay a hand on him. Thankfully, Hotaru and Frei alike taught the boy much in the way of temperance. Kentou doesn't beat the snot out of those vastly weaker than himself. A few casual shoves and dodges is usually enough to get his message across. Its an old song really, one the boy saw plenty of before he met Hotaru and commonly invaded downtown dojos in search of real opponents. Bullies are cowards, especially wealthy bullies. Any genuine threat and they back down quickly. Thus far, they haven't ganged up on him yet..
Time will tell.
"I.. Really don't hang out with them much. I'm.. sort've figuring it out.." His hesitating words come as he processes his thoughts. Fighting back the urge to give little white lies in order to skip the subject.
There are those Hotaru has opened up to more emotionally than Kentou. It's a burden she's always felt in front of the boy. In order to be the teacher she needed to keep a certain distance and shield certain vulnerabilities from him. She felt she needed to present herself as a little bit tougher than she really is. A bit smarter, a bit more insightful. Kentou needed someone to look up to, and the weight of that responsibility has resulted in the girl keeping him out of certain aspects of her life. She has friends she can open up to differently. But the growing boy in front of her is more like a little brother than a peer. A brother that didn't need to know of her vulnerabilities. He had already seen her at her worst. She didn't need to add to that.
Hands clasped behind her back, the girl waits for him to answer. She knows what it feels like an outsider at school. He seems uncomfortable on the subject of peers or fellow students and Hotaru's expression becomes sympathetic without straying into pitying him. It sounds like he doesn't know anyone else at all there. Maybe she should make an effort to introduce him to the only person she knows there, Hotaru ponders. But really, he should be meeting other boy students to befriend.
"That's how I was when I started back at Seijyun High last year," the young celebrity admits after a moment, turning around to look away, prying her gaze from Kentou to stare into the distance with him, enjoying the dojo's view of the garden just outside. "You've probably never been there. The girls there are very well to do in most cases. Very sheltered, very... well, they just have really different interests than I do. Most of them, that is..."
She unclasps her hands, bringing her arms forward to fold in front of her as she continues, "I tries to find another High School that would fit me better, that would be the perfect match for me. I went to each campus and go to know the students at each..." By fighting them - a detail she doesn't include. "I found each school was the same and each school was different. The students at each school liked their own campus, each represented their campus well, and each were quite different in personality. But I couldn't find the perfect fit..."
The girl exhales softly, turning back toward Kentou, mouth curling into a grin, "Until I met Zaki." The expression on the girl's face suggests that this was an important moment for her. "I discovered in that instant that not every girl at Seijyun was like I thought. There were some who enjoyed the things I did. I had gone looking for a school where I could belong when I was already attending it all along." The girl reaches out to place a hand on Kentou's shoulder. "Schools are what you make of them. If you want Pacific High to feel like your school, you'll need to be the one to make that happen." Her hand squeezes his shoulder then slips loose to rest against her side.
As Hotaru mentions her own troubles at the girl's school, Kentou offers a thoughtful nod. Sometimes the boy thinks the girl has always been here--And perhaps, in a way, she has been--However he's since come to know that she had traveled the world and only recently returned before he met her. Reintegrating back into the school must have been hard for her, being away for so long.
Somehow.. Kentou always thought she fit in well there. The campus is beautiful, graceful and proper; things that reflect the Kenpo Master in his mind. Not to say that Hotaru is precisely as effeminate as his good friend Yurika-sempai, but in her own way Hotaru should belong at such a place as nice as that.
As Hotaru surmises that Kentou's never been his jaw clicks shut. It dawns on him that.. Hotaru is out of the loop on his history there. His friendship with Yurika. His trespassing on school grounds completely against the school code. On one hand, he could just tell her. She probably won't care much.. Yurika certainly doesn't and maybe Hotaru wouldn't mind it either? If anything, the boy doesn't like keeping her in the dark about anything.
Regardless, he decides to table that train of thought for the moment. His eyes refocusing from their distracted air and trying to catch up on the conversation. Trying to remember what he was just told as he nods somewhat belatedly to her confessions of feeling out of place.
That she went from campus to campus is news. Paying a bit more attention now as he looks to her proper, dark eyes following her movement as he listens attentively.
Zaki..
Why didn't it occur to Kentou that Hotaru knew her? A few days ago, when he fought Zaki in front of the Seijyun grounds, the bellicose gangster gave him the time of day largely because he claimed to be Hotaru's student. He figured that everybody under the sun has heard of Hotaru by now, so the ramifications went uncontemplated. Now.. Suddenly.. That whole duel is seen in a whole new light.
The hand on his shoulder is glanced at, "I.. I see, Sensei.." Murmuring a moment as he considers this. Maybe she's right. Maybe he really does need to seek out people who are like him at the school? Rather than just.. hiding.
"I understand, Sensei." He then states firmly, turning his attention back to her fully and nodding in affirmation. Braids bouncing across his back as he does so. A smile to breaks through his previously dour expression, a small sign of gratitude for her encouragement. "Thank you, Sensei."
The account of her time getting aclimated to Seijyun High and the challenges thereof shared, Hotaru falls quiet, patient smile coming to rest on Kentou as she clasps her hands behind her back to see what he thinks of that potentially different perspective. A little bit of insight into what she went through. Perhaps the similarities will help him some; give him some ideas about how to handle getting into a new school.
It seems to have sunk in, which is well and good. All she can ask is that he consider it. "You're welcome, Kentou." She cants her head to the side just a little, turning to the side, a thoughtful expression on her face. Thoughts of her visit with ol' Sakana at the pier come to mind. The old man's revelatation. The sense of utter resonsability she feels for the kid's wellfare weighs on her for a moment, leaving her silent, at a loss of words. She searches the empty air between her and the garden outside for several seconds before turning back around to face Kentou.
"You've gone on to face friends of mine in fights. Acacia, Blanka..." She grins a little, unclasping her hands from behind her back to fold them together in front of her. "You did good out there. But there's a lot left to learn." She was able to be there for the fight against Blanka, his fighting circuit debut as it were. But scheduling forced her to view the second one on the replays.
"Kentou. Every chance to fight is a chance to learn. Every opportunity to challenge yourself, facing stronger opponents, is an opportunity to grow. You should go out there and do your best. But even defeats can be instructional." She starts to pace back and forth, hands once again claspsed behind her back. "I learn things I could have done differently. I discover an appreciation for the styles and arts others bring to bear. And sometimes I walk away with new insights into how to defend myself. You will do likewise the more you get out there."
She pauses midstep and turns to face him then, "Tell me what you learned from your match with my friend, Blanka." comes the next instruction she has for him. The boy jumped straight to facing some pretty powerful opponents. If he came away with nothing learned, that would be unfortunate.
To Hotaru's acknowledgement the boy nods with an strengthening smile. With this new perspective he feels a bit more confident. At least now he feels like he has a plan. A recourse that could work for him. If it worked for Sensei than it should work for him! Of course, this begs the question of how to look for them but.. Maybe he should read more carefully of the far end of the NeoLeague statistics. Its so easy to get caught up in the fame and skill of the top contenders, not always are the lesser fighters remembered. After all, that very problem is one of the chief motivators for Kentou improving anyway. Still, he has a feeling there'll likely be profiles of other students of Pacific High School if he looks carefully enough. This 'Marisol' sounds like a good start. Hmmmm.
The Kenpo Master's moment of thoughtful hesitation goes unremarked. His eyes only widen to visually signal his rapt attention to her every word, always curious to know what new insight or thought she has on.. Anything really. Hotaru clearly has a plan for his training and he knows she's carefully considering which lesson or parcel of wisdom to dispense next.
Its not like she'd be keeping a secret from him or anything.
Even as the young lady meanders about the garden, Kentou remains at attention. Shoulders squared and standing straight, eyes following her movements even as his head rarely shifts more than a fraction.
At the mention of Blanka and Acacia, the boy nods to each in turn. Blanka's fight... The resolution of that still confuses him. The boy cannot completely fathom why the great beast did what he did, but the youth could not refuse such charity. After all, it enabled him to immediately challenge Acacia. Against which he felt he acquitted himself modestly. She trashed him of course, but that's not even remotely the point. The stoic young woman granted him her respect, which more than made up for the weeks of bruises he had afterwards.
Yes. Of course. The boy eagerly nods to the assertion that he has much to learn. "Hai!" Punctuating that sentiment with vocal acceptance. Spoken with no prevarication or modesty, its a plain truth. If anything, the fact that the boy does have far to go is comforting. There is security in a long path stretching out before you.
Only when the destination is in sight does one start to doubt.
....Crap. A pop quiz.
"..Mn.. H..Hai. Ahh.." At the directive, his eyes wander about the nigh-celestial beauty of the gardens. Almost as if divining answers by studying the twisting mists with nervous scrutiny. "Blanka." Repeating the name a moment as he considers that fight.
Blanka was incredibly tough. Incredibly fast. Incredibly strong. He also burst into lightning. A gigantic green gorilla with lightning superpowers.
...She had to start with the hard one to answer..
A moment of revelation crosses his face. With a soft breath the answer becomes clear.
"Face your fears head on. Don't let being afraid control you." A previous humiliation the boy has finally come to terms with. The memory of fleeing from Blanka in terror in his first Saturday Night Fight match still stings him to this day. But the simple truth is.. If you don't stand your ground there is no hope at all. Regardless of how powerful one's opponent may be.
She's quiet as she gives him time to think. No grunt, no shuffle, no clue at all that he's on a limited clock in which to answer. She searches his expression from time to time before glancing away, eyes following the path of a sparrow as it flies from tree to tree. But after some amount of time, the Ondori boy begins to speak again and her attention shifts back to him.
Her brow furrows, her expression quite serious as she nods her head slowly, "Those are very good points. Good lessons. I'm glad that you came away from your match with Blanka to learn them..." There's something to her tone though - something that suggests she's looking for something else above and beyond what was expressed.
"It's important to control ourselves rather than being controlled. It isn't always easy and often requires us to think about it consciously at first until it becomes more natural to overcome it..." She's still thinking of something else as she speaks, though that doesn't make what she shares any less true.
"But," There it is. "You didn't mention anything about your opponent. Did not you come away from your match with Blanka having learned more about him? About how he behaved? What he did? Things he said? Perhaps why he said them?" She grins a little, her mouth curling at the edge, eyes sparkling just a bit as she isn't letting him off the hook with her little 'gotcha'. "Wasn't there anything to be learned there? Did you make a friend? COULD you sometime down the line?" She glances to the side a little as she speaks, as if just a little bit lost in her own thoughts.
"Fights can be about learning and improving yourself, sure. But don't forget - at the end of your fist is another person. Another individual with their own personality and behavior and life experiences. So try again, please. Think about that fight. What could you have learned from it?" She falls quiet then, leaving the question to hang in the air.
There's more? There's more. Hm.
Kentou felt proud of himself for managing to piece together that particular piece of the puzzle. That was the chief concern that vexed him, marshaling his courage. However, as Hotaru suggests there's more to it, the boy's expression falters. Upon repeating the question he begins to realize where the misunderstanding was. About Blanka, not about himself so much.
His lips purse as his eyes drift downwards, scanning the finished wood of the patio beneath his slippers. Not throwing in the towel on this conundrum yet as he goes back to the well, rethinking about that fight.
Somehow, he figures she isn't interested in hearing about the minutia. The little tactical decisions he learned. Blanka's claws twitched just before he pounced, for example. A few notions about how to deal with his bestial rendition of Capoeira. No, what she's asking for is more general he thinks. Or at least less exactingly specific.
What DID Blanka say? That slurred speech of his is hard to parse in the best of circumstances. It was..
'Do best, everyone happy. Looking forwards to fight.'
And then...
'Fight for you. Not camera - what you do today, noone take away from you.'
Following that.. The fight became a blur of light and dark. The next thing he remembered was waking up to somewhat awkward congratulations on his victory. He learned shortly after that the green goliath had conceded the match to him. Praising his bravery and courage.
However, the truth is hinted at in Sensei's leading questions. Realizing then that there's an even more important truth than simply facing your fears. The fact that it didn't occur to him is what shames him the most, biting his lower lip and lowering his head dejectedly. Once the moment of self-incrimination passes, the boy lifts his head and states, "I learned that Blanka is worthy of respect and friendship. I learned that... Fighters can look or act like anything.. But their heart is most important." A faint, hopeful smile appears then. Even if that was not precisely what Hotaru was refering to, he feels that was a bit more of a deeper truth at least.
His answer brings a smile to her mouth, eyes lighting up as she simply nods quietly. She doesn't need to extrapolate further. The boy has figured out enough about the Blanka match to suit her expectations. Perhaps it's given him food for thought, something to contemplate on later. Such insights will come easier with time. They did for her.
"I was terrifed the first time I fought Blanka." she confides in the growing youth. "I... It was a Saturday Night Fight, much like your own. In a jungle, at that. I didn't even know he was my opponent when I stumbled across him. I attacked him out of fear, in a panic." She shakes her head, cheeks flushing a faint pink as she recalls the incident with a visibly sheepish demeanor.
She shakes her head, looking back out to the garden, replaying the incident in her mind even though she'd rewatched in tapes several times before. "We were well over halfway through the fight before I finally pieced together his manner of speaking as actual words rather than frightening roars. It was in the final moments that I realized my mistake. I learned a valuable lesson that day. One that has stuck with me ever since..."
Turning toward Kentou, her smile has returned, her blush faded. "And now you have learned it as well. In fighting Blanka, you have faced one of the most gentle hearted fighters I know of. He was there for me when I needed help, supporting me, encouraging me, quick to forgive when I realized what I had done... I am deeply honored to count him as a friend." She pauses. "Now," breathing in before exhaling. He can probably guess what's coming next. "Tell me about your fight with my dear friend, Acacia." This time she offers him no prompts. He should know the drill by now.
That Hotaru professed to being terrified.. Actually catches Kentou off-guard as he hears it.
Academically, the boy knew that Hotaru has probably been afraid at several times in her life. In practice, the boy has never seen Hotaru back down from anyone. She's lept into the fray against any opponent and not once ever showed concern for her own well-being. That she, herself, was initially terrified of Blanka... Does make him feel better. That someone as strong and brave as her still felt intrepidation in the great green goliath's presence certainly made his momentary cowardice considerably more understandable.
At her blush, the boy smiles gently. She knows full well he'd never throw stones at her for such a reaction, just as assuredly as he tries not to condemn himself for his own. Any more, that is.
Though, that Blanka is as close and deep a friend to Hotaru as this comes as a surprise. By the time her wandering attention returns to him, his eyes are wide in astonishment. "He is..." Kentou manages after a fashion, "..He is .. very kind."
What other incredible friends does Hotaru have? He knew that she was an acquaintance of the.. odd man. But not to this degree. Nor does he realize he was a major factor in his Sensei coming to her senses in her recent time of trouble. Had he known that.. He would have been far kinder.
He should have been far kinder anyway, berating himself inwardly.
%TStill. As Hotaru breathes to change subjects, the boy already knows full well the question she's about to ask. His mind already focused on the answer even as the question reaches his ears. His head bowing in careful contemplation, taking his time to answer. For the last question, his first response turned out to be the less important one.
His motive for challenging for Acacia was less complex. In truth, he wanted to fight her for the honor of fighting her and that battle did not disappoint. While fighting her was no tremendous revelation, it did confirm several things he thought was true previously.
One, Acacia is incredibly tough and incredibly strong. He's punched solid rock softer than her.
Two..
"I learned that.. I can earn the respect of great fighters if I honor them with everything I've got." The boy finally decides on, looking back to Hotaru with an expression of uncertainty. Biting his lower lip a moment he then hastily adds, "Fighting her in person is more meaningful than... Than just watching her on TV and studying her from afar." And that much was certainly true. He had watched her fight tapes repeatedly, figuring the fact that he knew everything about her fighting style would give him an edge when she knew little of his. It was certainly eye opening how all the arm-chair study in the world did little to help him when faced with her in person. There is no substitute for brutal experience.
A year and a half in review, and the number of people that have touched her life in one way or another is almost impossible to keep track of. Friends from foreign lands, quiet tempered locale boys, an ex-assassin from Ireland, teachers and masters of various disciplines. Each left their possitive influence, each has taught her a thing or two about life, perspectives, and understanding. Naturally empathetic, the girl's exposure to all kinds of personalities has only furthered her perceptive nature and she relishes each opportunity the fighting circuits give her to meet someone new. It's something Kentou might grow into over time.
He looks up to see a quiet smile reflected in his teacher's expression as she gives him a slight nod of approval. She's quiet, letting him express his thoughts without rushing him or cutting him off. Only when he falls back into reflection does the girl speak, "In Acacia, I discovered that the most quiet, easily missed people all around you have the potential to be stalwart, stable rocks in a world where loyalties and friendships can often be as flimsy as shifting sands. So often it's the loud mouths, the braggarts that the world notices." The girl brings her hand up to tap at her temple a couple of times, "Look for those who don't just talk to hear themselves speak and you'll find true gems among people."
Lowering her hands to clasp in front of her, the girl grins faintly, "Every fight is an opportunity to meet someone new, get reaquainted with someone you already knew, or knowledge to be gained about how people think, what their morales, their experiences, and their perspectives have..." Her voice trails. That's all she has to say on the matter. The weight of teaching Kentou not just how to fight, but how to /live/, a constant pressure whenever they get together. Figuring out if he's not striking as optimally as possible isn't too hard. Figuring out if he could be growing more maturely is a lot more tricky. She's not that many years ahead of him along the path of life. Only a scarce few years of additional experiences on which to draw. She does what she can.
"Is there anything you'd like to ask me? Any questions about your fights? Or what you have been learning your recent practice before we get started with training?" she asks, clasping her hands behind her back once more.
The idea of adapting and growing with the friends and acquaintances you meet is a new concept to Kentou. Only when he first met Hotaru did she open his eyes to the potential. Previously in his life, the boy had grown under the false idea that the Ondori style was superior to all others. That to embrace the styles and philosophies of others, even in part, was to dilute perfection. That is what his father had told him. It was the philosophy he lived by.
He did not live long.
Only over the last several months has Kentou truly begun to open himself to the influence of others. His apprenticeship to Hotaru cleared the path. Now? He has learned much. Carrying the techniques of Hotaru and Frei in his style, and gaining the wisdom and insight of others.
Of Hotaru and Acacia, he nods slowly in understanding. The youth supposes he had a bit of an advantage there; He had never underestimated the stone icon. Her unassuming appearance never cloaked the immutable foundation from him.
Yet still, his Sensei's assessment is most wise. The boy has certainly heard plenty of braggarts around this town. Ironically, the ones most deserving of such heralded glory.. are the ones who don't sing their own praises much at all. Acacia never needed to talk tough or act tough. She just was.
Hotaru's burden in her education of the boy should not be envied. As far as the boy has come in terms of his fighting ability, several other aspects of his life are as yet.. Not as advanced. His poor social interaction with peers at school was an excellent example. Getting him to expand his horizons beyond fighting or training to fight has been difficult. Honoring his family name in combat has been his focus for so long he doesn't comprehend anything beyond it.
The courage to stand against his opponent. Earning respect by giving respect in battle. That Blanka was such a compassionate friend or Acacia such a stalwart ally.. He didn't actually think about until Hotaru pointed it out to him. This is not to say the boy does not value them as people or appreciate friendship and kindness. It is simply not what he dwells on, nor is it his passion.
Kentou has a tremendous need for honor and respect. Those values have eclipsed any other concern in life. While Hotaru is only a handful of years older than he, her worldly experience is greater than his by several orders of magnitude. Unlike the globe-trotting Hotaru... Kentou has mostly lived in a closet.
There are moments, however. Times when a more healthy-minded boy peeks out from within the shell of the little warrior, curious to know what else there is to life. Hotaru, and one or two others, have occasionally seen glimpses of those moments.. But they are fleeting.
Such as now.
"No Sensei!" Re-straightening once more. Of his most recent fights, Kentou has no regrets. He feels he has learned many valuable things, more than he even realized! While there is an endless stream of details of each fight to ask about, he reasons that its better to simply let her get back to training him and the answers will unfold in a more organic fashion. As opposed to badgering her with a hundred tiny disjointed queries. She does know best, after all. The advice she has given already gives him a lot to think about. His mind already wanders, trying to think of more ways to find kindred fighters such as himself at Pacific High.
"I'm ready to begin my training, Sensei!" Excitement creeps into his expression and tone, eager to start the day's lessons. So much to learn, so much to train! He needs to get right to it.
"All right," the lone heiress of the Futaba estate smiles back, studying the growing boy thoughtfully. So much more to teach him, so many aspects of life she would go into. But she decides he has had his fill. Other such lessons can wait until future sessions. There will always be next time. She's reviewed school with him now. Discussed his matches of public record. There hasn't been any fights at school of note. In truth, she is a little disappointed in that. The real way to make friends in schools bristling with young fighters eager to test their mettle is the age old tradition of a good ol' school yard scrap. Her own track record for such behavior was a matter of some legend the prior summer when she tried out each school in turn the way Master Takuma had advised her.
Now to steer back toward the actual training, to continue that ongoing experiment of blending her fluid Futaba-style of Kenpo with his hard hitting Ondori art. To observe the outcome over time has been interesting. The mixture of techniques from Frei has been useful, and even she has found ways to improve her chi manipulation based on observing the young sage in action.
Her right hand unclasps from her left, rising up, resting a knuckle at her lip as she studies him thoughtfully. She's passed to him a few very core techniques of her half of the Futaba style. The sweeping, windmilling strikes of the Soushou Shin and the aggressive, confusing assault of the Shin-jou Tai. There are more things to teach him. Two things in particular that she had a reputation for that she had been dragging her feet on teaching the boy. Anyone who knew the girl knew of her very refined, precise chi control made manifest in her reflective technique, Kobi Kyaku. And her potent chiball, Hakki Shou, has a reputation for packing a fair amount of concussive force.
It's too early, perhaps, to teach the boy how to redirect energy the way she can. Given how limited her finite chi control is, it's almost surprising that she's among the few that can create barriers of the stuff designed purely to drive energy back. But what she lacks in precise control she makes up for in the force she can bring to bear when she draws upon it. Using chi is one thing. Teaching another how to use it... well that's why she enlisted Frei's help.
"Hn..." Turning to the side, the girl walks over to an empty space in the wooden wall. Reaching up, standing on her toes, her finger wraps around a ring dangling from a cord suspended from something up above in the ceiling. Pulling down with her arm, the girll brings a metal, segemented 'barrier' down against the wall almost like closing a standard garage door over it. Only this barrier is far more thick than the standard garage door. Highly reflective, padded with thick cushions covered by reinforced steel plates, the surface of it is covered with all manner of dents.
Taking a step back to look at the metal 'shield' covering the wall, the girl rests her hands at her hips. "This was something my fa-" there is a skip of a beat, "I used when I was learning to use chi." She scans the surface, grinning a little. "Eventually I couldn't use it anymore. It can only take so much abuse," she turns her attention back toward Kentou. "But it should hold up for you for now until you get better."
She steps back three yards from the practice wall, "Watch." Drawing her right arm back, imbuing it for a moment with that vibrant blue aura of hers. What was at one time extremely difficult for her comes easily now. The body's control over chi must be exercised like any other muscle. The young fighter swings her arm forward, extending in her fingers, thrusting out with her palm at the last moment, sending most of that energy hurtling toward the wall. The blue sphere crashes against the barrier with a teeth rattling bang, causing it to vibrate as that energy splashes apart then vanishes. The aura along her arm receds as well and the lighting of the dojo returns to its normal daylight.
Left in the aftermath is a very visible indentation in the surface of the wall. Bringing her left hand up to rest at the back of her head, she turns toward Kentou again. "I know that you haven't developed range yet... that's what I want you to work on going forward." Taking several steps, she comes up to the wall again, resting her hand against its surface, "Start close. Back up a little, and try again. Try to force the energy forward, even if just an inch further than before. Once you manage that, back up a little further and work on it some more..."
She tasks him with the exercises she was given as a small girl. To extend that range, little by little. It's the next step, in her mind, for him learn yet another technique of hers. This one is less about style and more about the ability to project that chi out from his hand, though. It might not come as easily as the previous ones she's taught him. "Give it a try," she asks, waving her hand toward the training wall while taking several steps away from it herself.
In light of recent events, no one could blame Hotaru hesitating teaching him what she knows of the mystical aspects of her style. Even Kentou himself never pressed her, though he'd never press her for anything regardless. He had almost died at the end of one of those techniques, he was not so quick in asking to see it again.
Time heals all wounds, however, and any misgiving Kentou had about her arts have faded away. She has proven herself time and again since that she controls her power completely. Any sway it had over her seems to have long-since vanished.
That, and Kentou himself did not believe himself ready for such things. It took Frei months to teach him the most basic things, and even the Monk had to go to extreme, life-altering measures to bring the talent forth from him.
Now? Now is different.
Kentou's anticipation remains high as excitement evolves into a wide-eyed look of curiosity. Watching her navigate the dojo to yet another previously unused section to draw forth.. A garage door to nowhere?
After months of training in this place, the austere Dojo still has its secrets. Often times, the boy notices a strange handle here or contraption there. Its purpose or meaning unclear, but never does he question. Hotaru has never failed to divulge the truth of all things in due course. Sometimes, though, the wait can be murder.
As the reinforce plates grind to a halt, the boy stares at the arrangement with a contemplative pout. It seems straight-forward enough. A steel-plated punching surface. There MUST be more to it..
..And Sensei does not disappoint. A deep breath of new found understanding as the boy nods quickly. Swiftly moving to a perpendicular position to his Master and the iron curtain, he watches in silence as she swiftly generates that perfect sphere and hurtles it with effortless ease. Eyes following the azurian glow as it splashes with thunder, shoulders jolting at the shocking sound. Shaking his head a nearly imperceptible fraction, he blinks away the blue dots at the corner of his vision.
He's seen these energy attacks dozens of time now and they never fail to impress him. Not once. Especially that move of Hotaru's in particular. Astonished at how quickly and gracefully she generates the 'Hakki Shou', often pre-empting her opponents before they can begin to mount an attack. All of this with -one hand- no less.
"Hai, Sensei!" Kentou replies immediately. Misgivings? Plenty. He hasn't figured out how to channel all of that power single-handed as yet, in addition to the question of range. Frei's Hizashi is both short-ranged and short-lived. More of a distraction than a dedicated striking technique. Still.. Hotaru is not asking for miracles. Starting small and working his way further sounds prudent.
Once his Master steps away from the wall, he promptly takes her place. Feet shuffling into the spot she once occupied, his hand reaching out to touch the freshly-minted dent in the steel. Fingertips confirming what his eyes sometimes has difficulty believing.
'Hold up for you' indeed. Heh! He'd be feeling pretty confident if he was this wall, that's for sure!
"..Alright.." Clearing out his thoughts with a deep breath. Straightening once more as his hands lift, then lower--Mirroring the rise and fall of his chest. Eyes closed, forcing the anxieties and defeatist thoughts from his mind.
Start with what you know. Start simple. Worry about adding complication later.
"HAH!" Kentou's kiai rings out as he thrusts his palms forth. The now-familiar Hizashi blazes to life in a flash-bang of emerald. The boy drives the generated power against the wrought-steel in a straight-forward move.
By the time the flash completely fades, the steel isn't so much as scratched.
Well.. Its a start.
The boy recovers a moment before thrusting his hands forth again. And again. And again. Each time viridian gleams brightly, reflected by the mirror-like surface of the distorted metal. Each time, his hands cupped together and thrusting forth. The emerald sphere hardly lasts longer than a fraction of a second each time.
Now that the threshold has been breached and Kentou is able to draw forth chi, Hotaru is confident that he can learn to expand upon it. She can't teach him anywhere near as much about integrating it into a style as Frei though. Even after all these years she only draws upon that azure chi of hers at key moments, unable to throw it around with casual regard for the costs of doing so. It's enough though. And it isn't core to her art of traditional Kenpo strikes either, which is why she hasn't expanded upon it over time. Focusing more on the core of her art has been a higher priority for the girl. She covers the basics. A powerful projectile, close range chi redirection, and of course unleashing all that untapped potential in her most punishing combinations. For her, that suffices.
She shows the boy another facet of the dojo. Though the style is traditional in nature, and every effort has been made to look like a dojo of old, the building is really only a little under a decade in age. And it was constructed with all the facilities the Futaba patriarch felt was needed for his own training and the growth of his children. Each component is only shown the boy when she thinks him ready. After all, the wall can't hold up to her strikes any more, so she hasn't touched it for years.
She backs away to leave room for him to step up to the wall, smiling supportively but remaining quiet as he prepares to give it his best. Start small. Build off of what he knows. Close range is something he's been improving at. It's a matter of projection, propelling energy forward with a combination of focus and finely honed control. That's going to take some time...
She watches the rich green Hizashi flare to life from his palms. He's getting the hang of that technique it seems - one part energy burst to hurt at a range just beyond physical contact, one part distraction. It reminds her in some ways of her Kobi Kyaku. Kentou has never struck her as much of a kicker though and thus the idea of manipulating chi via his legs has never been high on her list of lessons to instruct him in.
She smiles quietly as he keeps trying. She knows full well how exhausting it can be. Training in chi manipulation doesn't come easy. But the same can be said for any technique that must be executed in a precise way to be effective. "Stay close enough to hit the wall," she reiterates, "Only back up a very little bit, then keep trying until you can hit it again at the new range." She doesn't sound disappointed to see no immediate progress. "It's something you'll be practicing for a while. But at some point, in a match, you're likely to feel that you can really pull it off." She rubs her right forearm thoughtfully, staring at her palm as if thinking back to her first combat uses of chi.
"It'll just feel right. Don't give up. Think of this practice as stretching your poential - a potential to be truly tested in real matches. Someday you'll know the moment is right." She wishes she had more technical ways of explaining the nature of chi use in combat. But it really is such a gut level personal thing it's almost impossible to generalize it or break it down to technical details. Each fighter has their own ways of tapping into it, just as they each bring their myriad colors to the forefront when they do so.
"You're getting better at shaping chi." she notes after another moment, a pleased expression on her face. "That's enough for now." She doesn't want him to work himself to exhaustion just yet. There will be time for more practice later. "Have you heard about the tournmant coming up soon? The Strolheim tournament in Germany?" she asks. The matter had been on her mind for a while. Maybe... maybe it's time for Kentou to get his first taste of a real tournament.
The emerald bursts strike the dented steel with an audible ping. Not anywhere near forceful enough to actually deform the dense material, but striking with a measure of concussive force none the less. The technique isn't designed to inflict brutal damage as much as to confuse and disorient enemies briefly. A flashy distraction. A technique simple and straightforward enough that even a chi neophyte such as himself could master in a relatively short amount of time.
This is different. This is a step closer to what popular culture thinks of as a 'fireball'. Kentou has always hated that word whenever armchair fans described the mighty Ryu or Hotaru in those terms. It isn't fire, darnit! Only pure concussive force. As for the realities of why it 'glows' like luminous flame.. Well..
"Sensei.." Kentou murmurs in between repetitions of the green flare, "..Why does Chi glow?" Such a mystical question may have been better to ask of Frei, but surely Hotaru would know as well?
The boy nods in brief to instructions. Feeling that he's sufficiently warmed up, the boy eases back. Rocking on his heels a few inches as he gains a bit more distance. Cupping his hands together as he takes a moment to let his arms rest and regain strength from the previous barrage. Kentou's own constitution and techniques are not unlike Hotaru's own. How Frei manages to continuously generate such copious amounts of luminous energies Kentou has no clue. All he knows is.. He can't do it. Besides which, the boy knows that one can't use the same technique repeatedly in battle. The more often an opponent sees it, the easier time they have to counter-act. Better to reserve such energetic and potent strikes for when they can make the most difference.
After a few moments, he begins his second volley. Still using both hands for now, generating chi in by collecting it within his fingers and attempting to 'hurl' the incandescent force in a vaguely splashing motion. The energy departs his palms and disintegrates moments after in a series of diffusing pops. Discorporating and unweaving into the atmosphere from whence it came.
"Mnn." The youth murmurs in consternation. Winding his arms back and twisting with his hips. Gathering the power yet again for another go. And again. And again.
No, not much progress. But at least he's acclimating to the idea of it. Perhaps he will eventually 'feel' it out. Build on the tiny little successes he may yet acquire.
Shaping chi? Maybe.. Maybe there is more to that. As is, the boy is doing little more than shoveling the ethereal substance at his target. Perhaps sculpting the energy int something more.. aerodynamic? Or at least cohesive over distances. Hmm.
As Hotaru orders him to pause, the boy exhales audibly. Letting his arms fall limply at his sides and rising back to his full height. Breathing through pursed lips as sweat rolls down the his cheeks. Chi is always tiring work.
Giving his head a little shake to clear the damp bangs from his eyes, he looks back to his Sensei fully, "Starollhamu?" The foreign word rolling about in his mind a moment before recognition takes hold. His eyes alight, "Oh! Hai. The Master and Student Tournament? I'm.." Blushing a bit at his boldness, "I'm thinking about signing up for it..I.. I mean! I want t.. to represent your Dojo! F..For my part.." The fact that the usually elitist tournament is allowing for novice enrollment is an extremely rare opportunity for the boy to get his 'feet wet' as it were. That said, he'd never enroll in such a thing without Hotaru's permission. The reputation of her Dojo and teaching is on the line whenever Kentou performs publicly, after all.
The question posed catches the girl off guard. Chi glow? "Mostly, because it's energy, I think," she answers back. She's never claimed to be an expert on the subject. She glances around, eyes coming to rest on the garden. "It's a type of energy, at least, that powers everything around us. The energy of life. I imagine it glows because that some of it manifesting as light." She sounds like she's thinking it out as she goes, as if she hadn't been told and wasn't entirely sure, really.
As far as she can tell, when it comes to chi... some people are born weak with it and others aren't. It isn't something that seems to get stronger with just wanting to. It doesn't seem like a muscle that grows with use. It's almost an intellectual and emotional exercise to put it to use. Maybe some are just born more in tune to it. But she can tap into it to augment some attacks, as she sees Kentou is learning to do. Given their focus on traditional Kenpo, it's just as well perhaps. Those who can shape chi so easily tend to have lazy, undefined styles that lean heavily on their chi manipulation.
She falls quiet to observe another round of his practice in motion, observing the effort and adjustments he makes to try and force it to go further. She wishes she could give him better advice, but it's such an intuitive thing, trying to over explain it might actually end up steering him away from doing it the right way for /him/, for all she knows. She waits for a while before asking him to pause then brings up Strolheim.
As he blushes, she brightens. She didn't miss that they were accepting entry level sign ups. If it was possible to enroll as a team, she'd drag him along without asking for the master/teacher teamup, but that isn't how it works. As such, she intended to leave it up to him if he wanted to be in it. She felt he was ready. But /he/ has to feel that way. "You do? That's great." she states, eyes lighting up, hands clasping together in front of her. "It will be your first big tournament... And mine as well in a long time. I intend to sign up too. I think you're ready for it. There will be all kinds of new fighters to meet. And we get to stay at a big German castle during the later rounds of it."
She's quiet as to the other motive she has for going - the letter handed to her by the mysterious ninja, Eiji. A personal request to appear from the Earl of Strolheim himself. She can't help but wonder what the implication is, or what there is to find out once she arrives. And she still doesn't trust Eiji... But for now, she simply must go and take that chance to find out.
His Sensei's answer makes sense to the boy. Chi is certainly a kind of energy and it does have a relationship with living things as Frei demonstrated to him. If anything, Kentou especially feels kinship with this notion as the Monk had named the youth's chi of the 'Wood' element. But then.. Fire glows, but it isn't truly 'alive'. Plants are filled with life, but do not glow. There must be deeper truths to it, but then it starts to venture into the nature of 'what is light' and that chapter in his physics book makes his eyes go out of focus. Easy enough for him to accept that it simply is, but he's still curious.
Nodding then, Kentou responds, "I see.." Further thoughts swept away as he looks up to his master with hopeful eyes. Waiting with baited breath to see if she'll accept his request to join. It turns out, he needn't have worried. Her happy and eager response brightens him considerably. "Hai! I won't let you down Sensei!" Bowing briskly then to punctuate the sentiment.
Kentou doesn't bat an eyelash as Hotaru confirms her own participation. The youth is certain the Germans would have gone out of their way to make certain a fighter of Hotaru's reputation and calibur would join! Little does he know how close to the truth his suspicions are.
Staying at a big German castle? Icing on the cake!
Kentou doesn't even suspect there could be an ulterior motive. How could she miss out on a tournament filled with the greatest fighters in the world? What more reason could she possibly need?
"I hope that we end up on the same team together! If we do, I promise I won't slow you down!" Of course, the fact that they cannot choose whom will be their teammates or foes leads to the other possibility. One that straightens the boy from his bow but never dampers his excited grin in the slightest, "If not, then I'll make you proud, no matter who I fight!"
Clasping her hands behind her back again, the girl nods, mouth grinning, "I'd like for that to happen," she states in response to him speaking about being on the same team. "The odds probably aren't with us in that regard though. While I don't know how they make the teams, I suspect there's a certain element of randomness to it." If signing up as a team were an option then there would be no question.
"Just do your best, Kentou. That's all that matters. There's going to be lots of fighters there. Some better than you, some better than me. All we can do is honor our training with our best efforts. Worrying about were you place, or when you win or lose, will just distract from the experience. Just enjoy it for what it is - an opportunity to meet more fighters all brought to a very isolated location - a chance to get to know more of them, discover styles and techniques you've never seen before. It will be very educational."
She shakes her head, smiling at the eager boy, "The way you'll make me proud is by just doing your best. That's all that matters..." She falls quiet, glancing to the side, eyes coming to rest on the metal practice wall. She wonders, for a moment, if her approach to teaching the boy is way off. Her father never used those kinds of words with her. Winning was everything. All that mattered was being the victor, no matter how hard you had to punish your opponent. It was a lesson Gato took to heart well. And look where it got him? The boy is a fighting machine for his age. Is she doing Kentou a disservice? Maybe she's too soft.
The girl struggles with the doubts for a moment before waving toward the wall again. Best to get him back to focusing on his training, "Okay, enough of a break. Let's give it some more practice. Remember, distance... forward force... you'll get it." she states quietly.
The boy exhales somewhat disappointedly, "Hai, probably not.." He would loved to have joined in at Hotaru's side for a public tournament. He knows he shouldn't get his hopes up, but he can't help but think how great that would be. While he should give it his best, no matter what, the boy knows with Hotaru standing beside him he'd give everything he's got an more for certain.
"I will, Sensei." His demeanor brightening at her sage words. This does promise to be extremely educational. After all, the tournament will also be filled with other 'students' such as himself. Other fighters who're just beginning their journey to stardom. He can't help but wonder just how well he'll do against them. Just how far he has come compared to most in his shoes. If he doesn't do well, what will that say about Hotaru's teaching? Or, more likely, his ability to learn.
Losing to Acacia or Blanka is one thing. He knew full well he had no chance against warriors of their greatness. That was never the point. Advanced fighters such as they gave the boy plenty to learn from. Similarly, Kentou has never really sought out peers to fight with. After all, he learns so much more fighting Sakura and that rockstar Kadish, why bother only with other mere students who have far less to teach him? He stands to grow the most by fighting the very best, why settle for anyone less?
Losing to a peer? Someone who isn't necessarily better than him? Kentou isn't sure what to think about that idea. Ultimately, it doesn't matter, it shouldn't matter. The only thing that matters is honoring himself and his Sensei against all opponents; the weak, the strong, the advanced, the new, the victorious and the defeated.
If anything, Kentou decides, anytime someone defeats him in battle, he's been given a great gift to learn from. The easy victories are the ones that ring hollow and should be avoided. The boy has seen the depths people have sunk to simply enjoy their easy victories, basking in profane powers or take short-cuts in life. Winning is nothing. If Kentou is never named the world's strongest, that's perfectly fine by him. As long as others speak of the Ondori name or the Futaba school with great respect and honor, the goal of his life will be fulfilled.
"Hai, Sensei!" Kentou echoes Hotaru's sentiment, "Always, Sensei!" The boy approaches every battle with one hundred percent. Anything less is an insult. Both to himself, his mentor and his opponent.
Though, his Sensei's moment of hesitation does not go unnoticed. His smile falters as her eyes drift, a pensive expression beginning to dominate her features. A question almost leaves the tip of his tongue before her wave silences his words. Swallowing his moment of anxiety he nods firmly, "Hai, Sensei!" Bowing briskly, then spinning on his heel back to the metal plate. A deep, cleansing breath and his fists rise, "HUT!"
The familiar pop of emerald thunder strikes out a moment later. Then again. And again. No time for for his thoughts to wander here, his thoughts must be as focused as a lens. Just a half inch further. Just a little more..
Log created on 00:21:21 09/20/2008 by Kentou, and last modified on 15:28:16 10/06/2008.