In fifteen minutes, we were done. We headed out the doors on the side of the big windows and cut across a path along the outside of the big grassy area. More and more people had come out onto the field as we ate. They all held swords and appeared to be in sparring matches. This must be the training grounds, I realized.
Kaz took short, quick steps that landed on his heel. Oh, great, I thought. Knowing Kaz all these years, I can usually tell a lot about Kaz's mood from the way he walks. To most, Kaz seems like a very calm, cool, collected guy. They aren't wrong, but as you get to know him, you realize there's a whole lot more bubbling underneath the surface. If Kaz is an airtight seal for emotion, there are little vents here and there that indicate his true feelings. His walk is one of them. His "normal" walk has long, careful strides that lead people to the (mostly) accurate assumption he has a gentle nature. When he's excited or happy, he takes shorter steps that have a tiny bounce to them. Sad looks like he has weights attached to the bottom of his feet. And frustrated, or mad… meant short, quick steps.
We entered the buildings once again and got in a spacious elevator. More bad jazz music blared through the elevator. It only made Kaz more tense. Once we exited, we paraded swiftly down the hall, which reminded me of a modern office building. Like any good office building, the air conditioning was kept at just below completely freezing. It sent a slight shiver down my back. The hallway ended with a large set of double doors simply labeled, “Conference Room.”
“I’m gonna make a wild guess and say this is our destination,” I remarked.
“Unfortunately,” Kaz replied. There was no sarcasm in his voice. With nothing left to do besides enter, we opened the door.
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As Kaz opened the door, a rush of even colder air came out. Geez, is this where they freeze the bodies or something? The conference room itself was not that impressive. It was a normal size and had just one long table in the middle. There was a floor-to-ceiling window directly in front of us overlooking the whole training grounds and beyond.
The impressive part was the people that all turned to look at us as we crossed the threshold. There were about seven or eight people already inside. Two men in suits stood by the window. Another guy with long hair pulled back in a manbun leaned casually on the wall in the corner as if he was trying to become one with the office space. One woman sat looking awfully bored, picking at her nails near the opposite end of the table. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she had something sticking out of her loose clothing. Is that armour? Another man and woman sat in formal clothing. From the way they sat it looked like we’d just interrupted an urgent conversation.
No one spoke a single word, but their silence said all it needed to. Welcome home Kaz, I said to myself, imagining myself doing some jazz hands, maybe throwing some confetti.
Kaz was barely moving. His hand hadn’t left the handle on the door and I could see he was trying to squeeze the life out of it. Not that anything on this floor had much life, of course. I had seen him do this dozens of times before a big test or competition. He takes all his negative feelings and stuffs them into a tiny ball somewhere deep inside. Most people will never even know he had them to begin with. Kaz took one very discrete, yet meaningful breath.
He let go of the door and let out the tiniest of laughs — a snicker really. Then, he smiled. He raised his arms as if he was about to announce the winner of a big contest and put on a cheesy smile.
“Damn, it feels so shitty to be back!” he declared.
Well, that’s Kaz for you.
One of the two men standing by the window let out a sharp breath and rolled his eyes. He had dark brown hair that was slicked back with enough gel to survive as a 50s greaser. He wore a full three-piece black suit that looked expensive over his sturdily-built frame. It was difficult to tell, but I determined he must have had a significant amount of muscle; he wasn’t a bodybuilder but quite clearly athletic. This contrasted his delicate face with large brown eyes and thin eyebrows. His lips were pursed in the look of someone who was constantly displeased. He took a sharp breath before saying,
“A pleasure as always, Kazuki” — Kaz’s eyes narrowed at the use of his full name —“I see you still have that ever-present spunk.” He emphasized the last work with an impressive amount of contempt for a single sentence.
“Oh, You Royal Leadership, sorry, I didn’t realize it was you. I thought maybe Danny Zuko infiltrated our compound.” Kaz inched closer to the man like a tiger ready to pounce.
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The man bun guy in the corner had barely moved an inch this whole time, but before things got too heated, he sauntered over.
“Settle down kids,” he rolled his eyes, “Sheesh. Devon, if you want to beat up your stepson, at least wait until after we hand it to those pompous Roman assholes. And Kaz, you can at least try to cooperate for once in your miserable existence. Oh sorry, does that require too much thinking for your imperceptibly small brain?”
I guess that was Kaz’s dad then… But who’s the man bun? There was a very long, dramatic pause as Kaz stared blankly at Man Bun Guy. He blinked once. They continued to glare at each other in silence. Am I the only one who’s worried about what’s about to go down here?? But just before I could think to intervene, they both burst into hysterical laughter at the exact same moment. Devon just made a dramatic eye roll and walked back to where he had been before. Kaz seemed to remember I was standing there after a while and giggled at me with a sheepish smile. His hand went to his ear like it does when he’s embarrassed or nervous.
“Uh, Mads—I mean—Rose, this is Sho. He’s my cousin and one of the members of the Family Council. He’s also an awesome swordsman and an ametuer skateboarder.”
“Ametuer?” Sho dramatically gasped, feigning being offended. Kaz responded with a quick eye roll.
“Yes, ametuer,” returning his attention to me, he continued, “And I guess you have no idea what the Family Council is… Uh, this is the House Council. But, uh, I’m getting ahead of myself…” Devon let out a dramatic snort from across the room with a largely exaggerated eye roll.
“For the sake of our Ancestors Kaz at least explain something. Honestly you’ve probably just left the poor girl more confused than before!” Devon exclaimed. Kaz looked like he was about to burst into flames.
“Geez Devon,” he emphasized the name as if it hurt his mouth to say, “I’m not the one who hasn’t told her or my own stepson anything! I would be pretty damn confused too if I found out my friend just happened to be a part of a crazy sword-wielding family that lives in a giant compound doing who knows what!” The tension in the air had risen back to 1000%. Once again, Sho stepped in.
“Alright folks, I think maybe we should just sit down. Preferably not with you two next to each other. How about we just give some answers? That was the whole point of this anyway, right? The only thing stopping us is your desire to tear each other’s throats out.” He took each of them by the shoulder and guided them to their seats, on opposite ends of the table of course. No wonder Kaz always spends Thanksgiving with my family… He motioned for me to sit next to Kaz. Pops took a seat a little farther down by Armour Lady.
Normally, I would have said more by this point. It’s not that I was a fan of becoming slightly quiet and complacent, but I was truly out of my element here. Plus, all these people knew sword fighting and I didn’t. When everyone was finally seated, Devon cleared his throat.
“Well, I assume you all know why we’re here.”
Screw it, I change my mind about being quiet. I blurted out,
“Uh, I don’t. I don’t even know what a House Council is,” Immediately, all eyes were on me. Except Kaz, of course, because he was too busy trying to cover up his laugh at my comment. Even Devon seemed at a loss for words. I guess people don’t interrupt Devon often. Noted.
“Well, Ms. Wilson, you’ve been brought here because you were attacked due to my stepson’s carelessness, and Pops thought this would be the best solution.” Pops nodded at this assessment. I guess Pops doesn’t get ignored around here either. Also noted.
Devon continued, “I do suppose some introductions are in order. Yes, we haven’t told you much, but it wasn’t necessary. You’re here now and that’s what matters. This is the House Council. We manage the affairs of the House of Kahana and the Kahana Family.” I raised my hand. Even though I didn’t end up with my throat sliced for interrupting the first time, I didn’t want to risk interrupting him twice. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face as he asked, “Yes, Ms. Wilson?” he hissed.
“Yeah, thanks. I keep hearing, ‘Family’ this, ‘House’ that. What’s the difference? Or are they the same thing and you Kahana’s just like to confuse people?” Sho snickered and glanced at Devon, who was once again annoyed. I suppose this must have been a common question. Devon sighed, but answered my question (in a very contemptuous tone, however).
“The ‘Family’ refers to only those in the direct bloodline. Basically, anyone with the last name Kahana. But naturally, as our operation has grown since 7000 BC, we have needed a little help. The Kahana family runs the Kahana House, or House of Kahana, which refers to the larger circle of people we employ or work closely with. In our modern arrangement, think of the House of Kahana as a company. The CEO is of direct Kahana blood, but the Board of Directors—in this case, the House Council—reaches farther than that. Keep in mind, however, that most people allowed to join the Council have been with the House for generations. You can’t just show up one day and expect a job.”
“With that out of the way, allow me to introduce the present members.”
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