Ah, the hot dog; was there any snack food more indicative of American entertainment?

The near-inscrutable nature of the hot dog worked to its benefit. It was well documented that the meat used in a hot dog’s production, be it beef or pork, was neither quality nor nutritious – in fact, a hot dog probably had no positive health benefits whatsoever; but, what was most miraculous about the hot dog was that only the most hardline of meat-haters could resist its siren allure in the midst of American reverie.

The soft, smooth skin parted easily between the front teeth to set the tongue awash with a heady, greasy meat flavor, though such poor quality meat rarely stands alone, which is why the hot dog was king.

Accompanying its overwhelmingly salty flavor was the bland tasting, yet surprisingly robust texture of the bun, absorbing the otherwise brow-scrunching taste of the hot dog and providing a simple but effective buffer between the taste buds and the lacking meat. The bread was truly as wicked as his lordship Harry Houdini – long may his curse depart – as the mouth cycled the flavor of meat in spurts, providing moments of honest, culinary joy without being overwhelming.

But if meat and bread alone were enough to be considered iconic to the decadent American experience, then all Americans would be hedonists; no, what separated a hot dog from any other of its ilk was its toppings.

The sour and crunchy sauerkraut, the spicy and chewy jalapenos, the pungent and cool relish or mustard, the sweet ketchup, the savory chili, the tasteful cheese, and those were only the barebone ingredients! The artisanship of the hot dog could draw in any number of ingredients, any number of flavors, but it was all served atop two simple ingredients that worked together to mitigate the harshest of flavors, and embolden the more subtle.

Hanabi recalled her father’s musings on the American hot dog as she walked away from the cart, munching a Medeo Dawg on the way to her destination. She could feel the acidic taste of the grilled onions even through the jaw-socking flavor of the cheddar dog and chili underneath them, and mused on how indulgent American ‘snacks’ were.

In Japan, this would have counted as the centerpiece of an entire meal; decadent and heavy, flavorful and powerful, yet to America, it was $6 to tame the munchies.

Was it good? Was it worth $6?

… Well, if a cornerstone of the American culinary experience was only $6 once, then Hanabi would consider it worth it.

Now she just had to try a hamburger, barbecue from the different states, and spiked soda out of a red solo cup and she could claim to have tried the entirety of the unique American culinary field!

Also something called ‘Tex-Mex.’

She crossed the street and continued her walk west until she stood in front of… quite the strange sight.

Sandwiched between two buildings – a tea shop she would have to remember later, and an at-home homeopathic remedies shop – was the sign marking the entryway to the Huang He Healing Center. A wooden fence marked the building’s boundaries, and a stone pathway lay between two well kept patches of grass

Walking over the stones, Hanabi passed by stone lanterns with sloping hoods, and between small ponds with bulbous, round lanterns hanging above them, making glowing, colored reflections.

Hanabi stared in fascination at the bent, curling trees and the wave-like patterns their branches and leaves made, and found herself staring at a large Asian compound suspended over a cool, rippling pond by wooden posts. Underneath, ducks and frogs swam between lily pads and waterborne grass.

She forced herself to keep walking forward until she was standing in front of a simple set of glass double doors. She opened them with her left hand with her usual gusto, strength, and motions, and bit her lip at the pinch of discomfort in her side, and walked in with a tired sigh.

The lobby and front desk were almost all wood, with white walls depicting artwork of beautiful nature vistas of waterfalls, rivers, fish, trees, and flowers. Hanabi looked around at all the lettering and words written around; it was all kanji, but not katakana or hiragana… Chinese? It must have been.

“Ni hao, honored guest!” A calm, but warm voice came from a side room, and Hanabi looked up to see an ancient asian man approaching her. His grey hair was tightly pulled back into a small bun at the back of his scalp, with a pencil-thin mustache wrapping around his mouth and dipping into a long, pointed beard, giving his wrinkled face a handsome bit of dressing.

Hanabi didn’t know the name of the long, red, gold-accented dress shirt he wore, but the cheongsam was cut to give him a rather dashing physique, and the white pants and black shoes gave him a distinguished, clean, and orderly look.

With a smile, Hanabi turned to the man and gave him a low bow. “Ni hao, sir, it’s a pleasure to—” Her sentence cut short as she rose, the cramp in her side eliciting a pained hiss, and the man quickly scampered over to help her straighten up, giving her a worried frown. “Ita… I’m okay.”

“You’re lying quite boldly, young lady! Oh dear…” The man fussed and huffed. He considered her for a moment, his lips pursed. “May I…?”

Hanabi nodded, and his hand slid under her shirt and up her side, touching the cramping area with just his fingertips. She winced at his touch, but watching his eyes, she could see the ki flowing behind them stir, and the feeling of flowing water came from his gentle touch, swirling against her pervasive wound, and his thin lips pursed as he extracted his hand.

“My my, this appears quite painful.”

“Hehe, yeah…” Hanabi brushed her fingers through her hair nervously as he took her in. “I… kinda got into a fight with some big guy. I mean, I won, but I took some licks in the process.”

“It was an enlightened fight, wasn’t it?” The man tilted his head quizzically.

“Y-yeah, it was.” Hanabi nodded.

“During the fight, one of your ki-ways was damaged, and nearly collapsed. A mass of ki has built up behind it, and is forcibly discharging in the area as the energy flows through you.” His thin hand waved through the air like the waves of a pond, and he shook his head.

Hanabi’s eyes widened at the information. “That sounds pretty bad.”

“Indeed. Do you align with any of the elements?”

“Fire, mostly.”

The man’s aged face blanched, and with a quick nod, he gestured towards the halls past the desk. “It is good you came here then, the Huang He Healing Center specializes in ki healing, and healing ki! If you had tried to draw upon any of your aspected ki, it may very well have exploded in the area!”

Hanabi gasped, now her face was drained of color! “Really bad! Okay, I would like to buy some healing, please!”

“Well…” The man stroked his sparse beard. “Normally it’s not that simple, we usually require a reservation in advance; we are quite booked, you see…” He pursed his lips, staring down at Hanabi, at her musculature, and seemed to consider… “But by the grace of Master Wangui, I must make an exception!”

Staring blankly, Hanabi watched the man start down a hallway, until he turned and gestured for her to follow him.

“My name is Chaoxiang Li, the proprietor of the Huang He Healing Center.” He explained to her as he led her down the hall, which was well decorated much like the lobby was, and was lined with open doors letting Hanabi peer through. “I am also patriarch of the enlightened Li Clan of China, masters of the He Bo Water Needle.”

“I can see the ‘water’ part of the name in your decorations.” Hanabi noted as they passed by an immense, wall-spanning fish tank, decorated like a small Chinese palace, with what seemed like hundreds of fish weaving between red-painted pillars, or hiding underneath the architecture. The bottom was lined with metal renminbi coins, probably thrown in for good luck.

They passed by a pair of doors marked as locker rooms, and Hanabi immediately perked up.

“Are those the locker rooms to the hot springs?!” She asked, barely keeping herself from squeaking in anticipation.

“Oh yes!” Her guide chuckled as they continued their walk. “The hot springs are one of our most popular features at this center, and is a must for any and all visitors! Not only does the warm water soothe the mind, body, and spirit, the steam opens the sinuses and the Visuddha, Ajna, and Sahasrara chakras, allowing evil thoughts and tainted ki to flow from the head down to the ass.”

“The ass?” Hanabi repeated in confusion.

“Yes, all bad ki leaves your body out your ass!” Chaoxiang wheezed a dry, old man’s laugh as Hanabi just stared, dumbfounded. “Ah, it’s not as messy as you might think, but all things impure naturally leave through the ass.”

“And when it doesn’t, it balls up under your ribs and tries to explode?” Hanabi mumbled, and Chaoxiang nodded.

Passing by an open door, Hanabi glanced in and saw a bald asian man wearing pure white digging his fingers into another man’s back as he laid on a massage bed, and through the subtle flexing of his muscles, Hanabi could detect the ki flowing into the patient.

Chaoxiang continued speaking. “The Li Clan’s founders trained in the art of healing by observing and practicing martial arts in the Huang He – the Yellow River. We dedicate our art to He Bo, and like the water he rules over, we dedicate ourselves to learning the flow of the ki – the water of the body – to cleanse impurities and bring health, or to crush, crack, and destroy.”

Hanabi nodded, memories resurfacing of her father’s lessons. “My dad taught me that enlightenment comes through understanding all sides of the lessons you learn.” She watched a white-dressed woman lead a number of caucasian and asian followers through some kind of yoga routine. “Like how fighting can be used to defend people, but also oppress them, and how food can be used to create happiness, or leave somebody horribly ill.”

Chaoxiang paused at her words, staring straight ahead down the hallway, before nodding. “Mmm. All lessons, all things have their yin, and their yang. Too many dwell on one or the other; true enlightenment comes between.”

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“Yeah. It’s how I connected with fire.” Hanabi grinned, resting a hand on her side. “I love spicy food, it really perks me up, so finding that bridge between taste and pain is a constant journey for me, like knowing when fire can be used for good, and when it goes out of control.”

“Your father is a smart man.” Chaoxiang said.

“Where are we going, by the way?” Hanabi asked as they turned down a hallway, but before he answered, Chaoxiang opened up a pair of doors and stepped inside, Hanabi walking behind him.

“I am taking you to meet some of the finest practitioners of the He Bo Water Needle.” He answered, walking across an empty wooden room with a light, springy green floor, and various pieces of equipment lining the wall.

He walked towards the center of the room, then stopped, Hanabi standing behind him.

“This is a dojo…” Hanabi noted out loud, and Chaoxiang turned to face her with an agreeing smile.

“Correct. Young lady, tell me,” he began with Hanabi missing the way he turned his face upwards to stare down at her, “you are aligned with fire, inspired by your cooking, yes?”

Hanabi blinked, and after a moment of hesitation, nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Would that make you of the Hanaya clan?” He asked, his voice growing a little deeper at the question. “Enlightened in the art of the Artisanal Asura?”

Again, a nod. “Yeah! My father’s Iwata Hanaya.” Hanabi smiled. “Do you know him?”

“I know of him. I know that he is Japanese, which means you must be Japanese too.”

“Uh huh?”

Chaoxiang smiled, and raised a hand, holding up a small, silver bell. “I thought so.”

He rang the bell, and the walls around the dojo slid open. Hanabi blinked as six people emerged from their hiding places, strong and well-toned men and women of white, black, and asian descent, wearing matching, aqua-blue gi, wave patterns sewn into their clothing. Their eyes were harshly fixated on Hanabi, who stared around in bewilderment.

Chaoxiang sighed deeply, and raised his hands up, before his face twisted into a wide-eyed, teeth-baring glare. “You think to step into MY business you imperialist sow?!” He spat, his voice rising to a snarling squeal.

“Wh—”

“THE JAPANESE ARE NOT WELCOME IN THIS CENTER! I will sooner disavow my name and drown in my own piss than cater to a xiao riben pig-dog!”

“I-I just came in for healing!” She called up, squaring her shoulders and trying to keep a firm stance despite the ache in her side.

“It doesn’t matter what you came in for, we’ll dump what’s left of you in the pond below for the fishes to eat! Aim for her left! STUDENTS!” Chaoxiang howled, before backflipping his way across the room, landing artfully on his toes, his finger extended as he stared wildly at the stunned Hanabi. “Send her back to the Hell she spawned from!”

Hanabi blinked as the ten martial artists around her growled and inched in on solidly planted feet, fingers extended threateningly at her like knives, and she sighed thickly.

Great. Why did this always happen…?

Hanabi lowered her head with a sigh, and almost casually stepped aside, the flat of a foot thrusting through the air she’d been in a second ago.

Before the guy could recover from an otherwise flawlessly executed front kick, she slid her foot straight into the bare toes of his other foot, eliciting a painful ‘crunch!’

He howled and toppled onto his back holding his foot, as Hanabi quickly sprang forward and out of the center of the group of opponents, holding her fists at the ready for the next one to approach.

Two of them, a girl and a black guy, sprang up to try and occupy her as the rest ran to surround her, but Hanabi stepped forward, ducking underneath a knife-handed strike to slam both palms into the woman’s torso, sending her toppling back onto her compatriot with the broken toes, then she swiftly turned and grabbed the arm of the guy and swung him around.

He gave a yell of fear as he was spun in a circle, warding off the three approaching from the back before Hanabi swiftly aimed him at his two downed peers trying to stand up and lifted a leg, and kicked him with the force of a cannon into the the pair, knocking all three senseless on the floor.

“Stop screwing around and hit her!” Chaoxiang howled, flapping his hands like an angry magpie.

Hanabi turned to face the other three, and gasped as fingertips dug into the ki clot in her side, releasing what felt like a firehose worth of force through three fingertips. A scream erupted from her throat as she stumbled back, clutching the cramp with one hand as pain pulsed across her body in a wave.

She landed on one knee, glaring up at her attackers with her teeth grit, and they slowly made their way around her, keeping their distance as Chaoxiang cackled coldly.

“Do you see, guizi? The He Bo Water Needle strikes gently, but can crash across the body like a wave! Our greatest prodigy can even freeze the point she touches, or open it like a broken dam!”

It hurt like hell, but she could tell these peoples’ control of their ki was… poor, thrusting it into her like they were mindlessly swinging their fists. She just couldn’t get hit by their fingertips…

She heard footsteps approaching from her back left, and she rose and twisted, an arm sliding along her cheek as she closed in and brought the point of her elbow straight into the woman’s solar plexus, her eyes widening in surprise as she released a dry, silent gasp.

One of her companion’s moved to fend Hanabi off, but she grabbed the back of the woman’s head and threw it, along with the rest of her body, like a bowling ball towards the approaching man, her forehead cracking against his chin and sending both to the ground.

The last guy stood, staring at her, hands held up offensively, eyeing her as Hanabi glared at him with fire dancing behind her eyes, her side screaming, but the adrenaline deadening the pain.

His feet shuffled, and she took several infuriated steps towards him, before he shook, and dropped his stance.

“Man, I ain’t gettin’ paid for this shit.” He suddenly groused. Hanabi stared, confused as he just sort of… walked towards the exit. “I’m out.”

“D-Daniel!” Chaoxiang shouted in shock. “Daniel! You lazy good for nothing, get back here and defend my honor!”

“Fuck you!”

“DANIEL I SWEAR UPON THE HEAVENS I WILL—” Hanabi cleared her throat, causing him to freeze. “G-get her!” He yelped. “Everybody get up and get her!”

Hanabi spun in place as she heard approaching feet, and the two women threw themselves at her, one diving ahead of the other with needle-like strikes aimed towards the girl’s chest, but Hanabi’s wrists fended off the rapid series of strikes, and she ducked as a third hand dove towards her throat.

She threw her shoulder towards the gut of the flanking attacker, but the woman backed up, making Hanabi stumble as her side cramped up in protest, and she felt a finger strike to her shoulder.

A gasp of anticipatory pain escaped her, but to her relief, it didn’t feel like a gunshot to her cramping side, just like somebody plunged a needle straight to the bone. It was a precise pain, but it didn’t feel like a combat technique…

Her other fist came up in an uppercut that buried in the attacking woman’s stomach, drawing a squeak before she hit the floor, then Hanabi whirled with her leg out, her foot lashing out at the other woman, who fell back out of range as two of the men ran at her.

One lunged to grasp her retreating leg, but a half-second too late, causing him to barely catch himself on his feet, then catch her foot straight to the nose to get launched back onto his ass.

Hanabi sucked in a sharp breath between her teeth as a shooting pain surged from her ki clot, the moment of distraction allowing a pair of hands to clutch her arm and rip it from her side, straightening it out far and useless.

Her fist slammed into the woman’s forehead, but the woman held fast through the forming bruise, and the other girl jumped forward and grabbed her other arm before she could swing it again.

Both arms were forcibly straightened out, the women holding her limbs tightly as she tried to flail. The remaining man ran forward, his arm drew back, and despite Hanabi’s attempts at flailing, she couldn’t do anything to escape his attack…

… except…

She sucked in a deep breath to her belly to strengthen it, drawing all her ki to help harden her belly, and his fingertips stabbed at her rock-solid abs; once, twice, each strike sending waves of post-numbness, needle-like burning across her torso, drawing grunts of pain between her gritting teeth, bearing the jabs against her rock-solid belly until the man suddenly stopped.

The man withdrew a step, gasping, his fingertips starting to turn purple and swollen, a drop of blood escaping the loosened fingernail on one of his fingertips, and with a cocky, if pained grin, Hanabi met the man’s terrified eyes.

“Yeah, I work out.” She chuckled weakly, releasing the breath and softening her stomach. With the two women staring flabbergasted at the guy’s broken fingers, Hanabi lifted a leg and jammed her foot into the knee of the left woman’s stiffened leg, causing an unhealthy ‘snap’ to fill the air, followed by her screams as she fell to the ground clutching her broken leg.

Hanabi turned, moving like greased lightning, to bring her freed fist careening towards the other woman’s face, but the woman held her hands up and squeaked: “I give up!”

The fist held, frozen with barely a hair of space between Hanabi’s knuckles and the woman’s nose, and with a tremble, she fell to the floor on her ass sucking in deep, relieved breaths.

Hanabi turned her head to survey her work: two of them had given up, one guy was cradling his fingers under his armpits as he leaned against the wall next to the other guy with the broken toes, the woman with the now broken leg next to her laid flat on the ground, groaning, leaving one asian guy still standing, giving Hanabi a worried look around his painfully swollen, bleeding nose.

“W-well?!” Chaoxiang demanded of him. “Rise to the challenge, young Ping! Do what your fellow students could not!” The old man stamped his foot, shaking in worry and rage. “You have risen above them already, still willing to stand before—”

“I’m just an intern, man.” The guy groaned through his broken nose. “I’m just here for the flexible hours and bitchin’ potpourri mix. I’m with Daniel.” And with that, he sprinted out the door, leaving Chaoxiang sputtering and cursing.

“Fine! Fine! Run!” He ranted, glaring at Hanabi. “That just leaves you and me; you, exhausted and pained, versus me, the patriarch of the He Bo Water Needle enlightened ar—wa-wai-wait-wait!”

Chaoxiang quickly shuffled backwards as Hanabi stormed after him, glowering with a white-hot fury burning in her chest.

“I-I can—now hold on—just a—” He choked on his own words as she quickly closed the gap, before yelping: “Ai Li! WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!”

Hanabi’s fingers curled in the collar of his shirt, and Chaoxiang screamed as Hanabi held a fist up threateningly, but before she could exact retribution on the elder, she heard what sounded like a crashing wave, and turning her head back, she could only stare in surprise.

One of the tatami mats forming the floor suddenly burst into the air, spinning as a figure rose above it, water falling beneath them before the mat landed back into place, the figure’s feet planting on top in a flawless fighting posture.

She was shorter than Hanabi, and looked younger too, but only by a few years; highschool age, Hanabi would have guessed. Her black hair was gathered up in two tight, fist-sized buns on top of her head, both wrapped around a decorative golden needle with short, blue waving ribbons at the very tips.

She had features often seen in eastern Asians, similar to Hanabi’s herself, though her face was rounder, flatter, and with a smaller nose. She wore eyeliner, emphasizing her already sharp eyes, and bright, cherry red lipstick to give her a dash of feminine maturity.

Her hanfu top was tighter all around her torso, showing a lack of feminine shapeliness under her clothing, the white cloth accented with blue wave-patterns up and down the sleeves, with elaborate blue stitching forming a tree over the left breast of her uniform. Dark, navy blue pants hung around her legs, loose until they reached the ankles, where some plain string tied them tight, so as to not interfere with her footwork.

The little slippers she wore weren’t exactly intimidating, but Hanabi knew for a fact not to ignore an opponent’s feet.

She wordlessly dropped Chaoxiang onto his ass, and he crawled away as the girl, Ai Li, narrowed her eyes at Hanabi, who gently massaged her side and frowned at her.

“How long were you hiding down there?” Hanabi asked. “And why aren’t you wet?”

Ai Li said nothing, instead extending her fingertips and lunging at Hanabi like a torpedo.