“What's your name?”

Miyo sipped his jug.

Sai sat on his knees, less steady and stiff backed than usual for the beating he had just taken.

“Yabona,” she said. She brushed her hair back behind her ear, and she looked at the fruit scattered on the mats.

Miyo nodded glumly in their direction.

She scampered up the steps, gathered her food, and came back down. She stared. An expression of deep deliberation on her face. She threw the thing at Miyo underhand, and grinned as the old man scrambled to catch it. He frowned, rolled the orange in his hand.

Yabona cleared her throat, and looked towards the wall she had entered over.

“Are you thirsty?” Miyo said.

She looked back at him.

“There's plenty of water, clean,” Miyo said, and he nodded over to the well.

She blinked, fidgeted, nodded.

“Sai! Water!” Miyo barked.

Sai raised himself to one knee, grunting.

“No!” Yabona jerked towards Sai, “I'll get it myself. Thank you, for everything. I didn't mean to...” and she floundered, unable to find the words, to work out just how a person was to apologize for such a situation. She stomped off towards the well to hide it.

Sai remained half raised, looking to Miyo. As Yabona passed him Miyo nodded, and only then did Sai settle back down with another muted grunt. His face was mostly purple.

“Took quite a beating, huh?” Miyo said, grinning.

Sai blinked. Nodded.

“That was a mighty good swing,” Miyo mimed an over head stroke. He could not be certain, but perhaps Sai's mouth twitched, perhaps towards a smile. Miyo took another drink. He was finding himself remarkably clear headed, disturbingly clear headed. All that running about, throwing children about. Entertaining guests, had sobered him. He chuckled to himself. Sai, of course, said, and did nothing. Yabona returned with a jug of water. She offered it first to Miyo, who shook his head, and then she drank deep, it splashed down her clothes, cleaned her chin of some grit. She looked sidelong and guilty at Sai, and held the jug out to him. Sai met her gaze for a moment, and then took the jug himself. She sat down in imitation of Sai, next to him though at some respectful distance. She still struggled for her words. Her tongue had grown dull, over these last few months. She hardly had occasion to speak.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Miyo began to peel his orange, digging his thumb nail into the skin.

Yabona's eyes lit up, and she grinned. Of course! She followed the example, when it was peeled she handed it to Sai. Peeled herself another.

“Did you steal these, from those boys?” Miyo said between chewing.

Yabona hesitated, and then shook her head.

“But you did steal them?”

Yabona nodded, smiling sheepishly. “I did, from a stall somewhere down... down there. I don't know where I am. They chased me far.”

Miyo harrumphed. Who was he to teach morals? So she found a way to feed herself. Good. He might have to steal before too long himself.

“Nish,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“That's where you are, Nish ward. About the middle of it, last I checked,” Miyo drank, laughed.

“Nish ward,” she mouthed, nodded.

The bustle of the city was subdued here, only the odd and muted hawker could be heard. Miyo's dojo was on a rather substantial hill, and about him there was little more than private residences and closed schools. It was a neighbourhood of old and forgotten aristocrats. A place of people being out paced, most, old, and resigned to this fact.

They ate and drank in the relative silence. Insects chattered, the tree rustled. It was evident she was homeless. Another urchin. Kurobe would take her in, if only he went over there and...

But of course he was dead.

Miyo rubbed the back of his balding head.

There must be an orphanage somewhere, but would they have any space? The country was full of the underfed, the unhoused, the down-trodden. Miyo sighed.

“Sai,” he said.

The boy looked up.

“Where do you stay, when you're not here?”

Sai's brow furrowed, a little. “With my parents.”

Miyo nodded. The boy was clean enough every day, and he did not look entirely starved. Somewhat scrawny, but that might have just been his build.

Miyo had to chew through his next thought more than his food. It was a big decision. After he had swallowed the last of his orange, he had made up his mind.

“Then when you next come, you will bring with you a bit of money. It's time you start paying for your training. I do not charge much, your parents will cover it easily. Twenty mon, for the month.”

“They will not pay.”

Miyo blew out his breath. So much for that. No money and thus no redemption, no housing of the needy. He closed his eyes, rubbed them, and Yabona stood up.

“Thank you, again,” she said. And she was looking back at the wall, scanning it. Perhaps looking for another way out.

Miyo opened his eyes. Saw Yabona hesitating. “So you're leaving,” he said and she nodded. “Well that settles that, I suppose. Good luck, Yabona. There is a gate out front, just head around. Those little bastards might still be about.”

She cleared her throat, opened her mouth as if to say something, and bowed instead. She set off around the dojo.

Sai watched her go.

Miyo sucked his teeth.

Who was he to go around raising strays?

He looked at Sai.

“Go home,” he said. “You're too battered for any more training.”

There was a look in the boys eyes that said he wanted to protest. But Sai had to admit, he was beat all to hell. It would be torture just to walk home. He took a deep breath and stood. “I will return in the morning,” he said,“with twenty mon.”

Miyo scoffed. “If your parents won't pay, they won't pay.”

Sai hesitated, nodded acutely, and he left – the same way Yabona had just gone.

Miyo again alone with his drink. Further poor decisions, further wasting. He shouldn't have let that girl go off alone. Just look at the trouble she had found herself in this very afternoon. He lolled his head, looked at the jug nestled in the grass.

Who was he to do anything?