She was keeping up, glancing over towards me with one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, I practice the Saotome style of Anything Goes. Y’sure y’don’t remember me?”
Ah. So Genma has taken on a student. Strange that he would teach a woman. “No, I don’t believe we’ve ever met.” Of course, I taught my wife…
“Uh, you OK, Mr. Tendo?” She was in front of me, a concerned look crossing her brow.
Focus, Soun. For the school. “Yes, Ranma-san. I…was distracted, momentarily. I apologize.” For your honor. For your family.
“Um, right.” She seemed to drop into some sort of thought for a moment, as we stepped into the dojo. Damn. I haven’t cleaned lately.
“Heh. Looks like ‘kane was in here.” She was off, heading into the gloom of the building, towards the closet.
“Ah, yes. I believe she was.” Maybe she’s one of Kimiko’s friends.“ There’s no need to…”
“Ah, no prob. I’m used to it.” With that, she’s got the broom out and is sweeping the remains of one of Akane’s ‘practice sessions’. I’m about to protest, but she’s obviously familiar with the grounds. So I simply stand there, watching as the redhead expertly pushes the broom across the hardwood and tatami mats, before she stops in front of a blank part of the wall.
“Hey, where’s the shrine?” She’s looking over towards me, her puzzled expression evident. “I didn’t think you’d let something like that slip.”
My jaw clenches. And my fists. And my gut. Breathe, Soun. “We have not yet time to put it up yet, Ranma-san.” Oh, Kimiko. “We just laid her to rest two hours ago.” I bow formally, my eyes burning. “If you will wait just a moment, I will go and change.”
“Change?”
“For the sign, of course.” I brush past her shocked look. Damn dojo challengers. What did she expect me to do, simply hand it over? I think I may have lost a tear in there, but I’m sure she didn’t notice.
I step into the changing room, and begin to remove my suit. And where does she get off trying to clean up my own dojo? Some sort of psychological ploy? My hands are tying my gi together, but it’s all automatic. Challenging me just after I’ve returned from my wife’s funeral? What kind of dishonorable trash is she, anyway?! Who does she think she is?
My belt is tightened, and I look into the mirror. The man looking back to me has a haunted, angry expression. His eyes are sunken, and he’s pale. Pasty. Shell-shocked, even. That man is about to loose. I pause for a moment, before laughing sharply. Of course. Anything Goes.
Truly, she must be Genma’s heir.
See other episodes by Kevin Michael Schultz
(Posted Mon, 30 Jun 2003 10:38)
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