Ranma looked around as he followed his father. This was his first contract. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that he was prepared there was still the feelings of butterflies in his stomach.
His first contract.
There is a lot riding on this. His entire future would be reflected on his preformance here. If he failed then all those years of training would be wasted and it would be a really hard road to climb back up. 'No', he thought, 'Don't think of failure.'
With that he took a deep breath and let out all the emotion, like Master Yen had taught (beat into his skull more like) him. He was a mamluk-Yojimbo. There was no failure. He would succeed... or die trying. Now if only those damn butterflies would stop.
Trying to get his mind off the contract, he looked around the city. It wasn't sightseeing as much as an assessment. He took note of possible hiding places, people who might be a threat to his mistress, escape routes etc. All hammered into him by his trainers until it was as natural as breathing. After all he wasn't just a mamluk. He was a Yojimbo. A practice that had its roots in the age of the samurai. It was a noble calling and he had to live up to it.
"Heads up boy. We're here."
Ranma looked to where Genma was knocking on a door. He let out a breath. It was time to meet his benefactors and Mistress....
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(Posted Tue, 10 Aug 2004 09:31)
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