“B is for Blast. The Blast destroyed the ancient world and almost everyone in it.”
— Chikara City Elementary Primer
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“What in the name of the ancestors is going on here?” roared a familiar, commanding voice.
It was her grandfather.
Kiriai wanted to disappear into the floor. She didn’t know if she could take any more right now.
Sento responded before she could. “Your granddaughter invited me to spar in your dojo to train for my upcoming dispute fight. We just finished. I’m leaving.” His tone was arrogant and he’d straightened to his full height to look down on Ojisan.
Kiriai could tell Ojisan took offense at the young fighter’s tone, but as usual, he kept strict control of his emotions and merely gave the scrapper a nod as he gathered his things and stepped out through the sliding door. The bang of the door closing sealed her fate.
It was her turn.
Ojisan turned his steely gaze toward where she sat on in the middle of the dojo floor, feeling bruised and battered. There wasn’t an ounce of compassion in his expression, only irritation and disappointment. She hadn’t expected him to run over and help, but was it too much to ask for a moment to recover? She was obviously in a lot of pain. No. Ojisan had always demanded perfection—or at least the pursuit of perfection. Anything less was unacceptable.
Kiriai took a few deep breaths, smothered a groan and then forced herself to her feet to face her grandfather. She straightened her shoulders, clenched her fists and prepared for a battle.
The back door slid open with a bang and both of them turned.
“Happy Birthday, Kiriai!”
There, like a rescuing angel, stood her best friend Eigo. He had a huge grin on his face, a package in one hand and the other thrown out in an extravagant gesture.
Kiriai sagged in relief. Eigo moved across the room with a complete disregard for the standoff with her grandfather. He towered over the older man, but was so skinny he looked like his bones would snap in a strong wind. His shock of pale blond hair made him stand out in a crowd. She often felt the need to feed him, fatten him up from the skinny, practically albino boy who’d been a target of bullies since they were both young. That’s how their friendship had first formed. She’d protected him, and he’d helped her with her studies.
Eigo moved with the energy and determination of someone who was always in the middle of an important project that had to be finished right at that moment. Any room he entered brightened a few shades, and that was what Kiriai needed most right now. Best of all, he paid no attention to her grandfather’s authority and disapproval. Even more astonishing to Kiriai was Ojisan’s acceptance of Eigo’s behavior. He had always treated him like a favored pet for whom allowances had to be made. Though Kiriai was occasionally jealous, it was impossible to hold anything against Eigo for very long.
Ojisan turned to Eigo with the disapproval Kiriai had just been thinking about.
“Eigo,” said her grandfather, “I am having a private conversation with Kiriai at the moment. Would you please return later?”
As usual, Eigo ignored what he didn’t want to hear with an aplomb that made Kiriai envious.
“Ojisan, sir,” he said with deference in his tone, indicating Kiriai’s condition with one hand. “It looks like she needs some help before she can talk. I can help her and send her to you as soon as she’s recovered.” Eigo then bowed his head in a gesture that looked more comical than formal. “If I may?”
Kiriai watched in amazement as the corner of her grandfather’s mouth lifted slightly, indicating that amusement was replacing his earlier anger.
The old man unbent enough to give a slight bow in Eigo’s direction while completely ignoring Kiriai. “That would be acceptable if my granddaughter wasn’t out of time. She is disrespecting her ancestral gifts by wasting her time with these childish fighting pursuits.” His dismissive wave encompassed the whole dojo and seemed to discard everything Kiriai held dear with one gesture.
It was just too much. Why couldn’t he recognize how important fighting was to her—acknowledge her sacrifice if she gave it up to follow his path? Maybe then she could submit. She’d be unhappy, but able to submit.
Now? She couldn’t. She just couldn’t. “Fighting is not a childish pursuit. It is the basis for everything of value in our world,” she said, meeting her grandfather’s eyes and refusing to back down. “And not only have I wanted to be a fighter since I was a child, but I am good at it, really good. Why can’t you accept that?” She was almost yelling.
And Ojisan? Her grandfather was unmoved. “You were born with talents you can’t even understand and you want to throw them all away to pursue the worthless glory of the ring. I’ve never been more disappointed in you than I am at this moment,” he said in an icy voice that betrayed no emotion whatsoever.
“Perhaps there is a possible compromise?” A steady voice from the hallway to the rest of the house made Kiriai start. Isha, Ojisan’s apprentice was standing in the doorway, calm and unruffled. It took Ojisan a moment to tear his focus from his granddaughter to turn and look at his apprentice. His steely gaze seemed to have little effect on the woman as she stood calmly awaiting an answer. Even her hand holding a jar of herbs was rock steady.
When neither combatant spoke, she continued. “You have taught me that there can be a middle road found between two opposing paths, one that gathers the best from both paths,” she said simply.
Kiriai took a closer look at the woman who had taken an interest in her over the years she’d been working as her grandfather’s apprentice. Isha would have been described as an average middle-aged woman by anyone seeing her for the first time. Her hair was a nondescript brown. She was of medium height and her eyes and skin were of unremarkable colors. What had drawn Kiriai to her from the start, however, was her demeanor. Somehow, she projected a calm competence, no matter the situation. Isha was someone who could be relied upon in any crisis, and that couldn’t be any more true than in this moment. As Kiriai and her grandfather headed toward a permanent estrangement, Isha had calmly intervened to try to prevent a disaster.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Ojisan seemed to consider Isha’s words before shaking his head and turning back to Kiriai. The authoritative stoniness had returned to his face. “In this situation, there is no compromise. Kiriai, you can never become a fighter. That is final!”
Kiriai felt like she was balanced on a precipice, numb. One step either way would result in drastic differences in her future. Each pulled her, and she knew that either choice would leave her torn into pieces. The dojo was a frozen tableau, its thin walls caging another intense battle, but this time, one of wills instead of fists and feet. Her grandfather faced her, a frigid statue expecting her capitulation. Eigo watched, his expression worried. Isha stood, waiting to see what Kiriai would choose.
And then the anger came in a relentless rush, flooding through her body and mind, washing all the pain and indecision away with its intensity. It was time. Kiriai no longer cared about the consequences.
“This is my life,” she declared. “You can no longer tell me what to do. I have decided to become a fighter.” She paused, knowing there wasn’t any coming back from this. “And that is final!”
Silence. That was all the response he gave her. Still shaking from the overwhelming surge of rebellion, Kiriai wondered how she could have expected anything different.
And then, without another word, her grandfather turned on his heel and left the dojo, moving past Isha and sliding the door shut with a soft thump in his wake.
Kiriai let out the breath she’d been holding. Her shoulders slumped and as the tension left her, she realized it was the only thing that had been holding her up. Her knees buckled, but before she could hit the ground, Eigo lunged forward to catch her.
In typical Eigo fashion, the rescue turned into a tangled plummet to the ground where his chest broke her fall with a muffled, “Oomph!” The two of them lay there in a jumble for a few silent seconds, Eigo because he couldn’t breathe and Kiriai because she was drained and exhausted.
Then she felt all the stress and emotion spiral into hysterical laughter at how amusing her current situation was. It took only a moment for Eigo to join her. They sat side-by-side on the floor, laughing hard enough to cry. Even Isha began chuckling, which inspired another round of hilarity.
Isha moved to the storage shelves and busied herself with the herbs stored there. Finally, both exhausted, but with smiles on their faces, the two friends flopped back and stilled, though the occasional chuckle escaped. Peace settled into the dojo. All that could be heard was the sound of Isha moving the occasional pot or bundle of rustling herbs. A few muted street noises made their way through the dojo walls.
“Well, I don’t think it solved anything, but you needed a good laugh,” said Eigo.
“Yes, thank you. I really did,” Kiriai said seriously, turning her head to look at Eigo’s grinning face on the floor next to her.
“You know I’m always good for a laugh anytime you need one.”
“So, you came over to do something fun for my birthday and instead had to cheer me up with a bout of laughter after a fight with Ojisan?” she asked, when he didn’t say anything further.
“Oh,” he said, sitting up and reaching for something on the ground next to him. “I can’t believe I forgot your present. That’s the whole reason I came over.” He presented her with a small package wrapped in brown paper and tied intricately with a piece of twine so that the top knot looked like a flower.
Surprised, she reached for the gift. “You didn’t have to get me anything for my birthday,” she objected. “I’m just glad to have you as a friend. You don’t need to spend your few credits on something for me.”
The grimace on his face made her wish she could take back her words. She mentally kicked herself. She knew better than anyone how sometimes pride was all you had when credits were scarce. And if her friend had sacrificed valuable credits for a gift to her, who was she to discount it?
“I didn’t pay for it. It’s something I found in the wastelands on our last scrounge,” he said, his voice wooden and missing the excitement of moments before.
“Eigo, I didn’t mean…” she said, trying to find the words to undo the hurt. She tried again. “You know I’d love anything you got for me and”—she paused and tried for humor—“I’ll wait to get it appraised by the pawn man until after you leave.”
His eyes jerked up, ready for anything, but when he saw her smile, he returned the grin. “Well, at least you’re considerate enough to wait until I leave.” Smiling now, he tucked his legs underneath him and held out the package again.
Taking it, Kiriai felt the shape of a small box under the paper and intricate knot. She let go of all the drama of the day and enjoyed the simple pleasure of receiving a gift from a friend. Regardless of what was in the package, she was grateful for this.
After a few moments of picking at knots with fumbling fingers, she had the box free. Even Isha stopped working to come over, sit with them and join the simple celebration.
Kiriai started to open the lid and then pushed it back down.
“Aw, come on, Kiriai,” Eigo complained. “Just open it!”
If she could have, Kiriai would have frozen that moment and just lived there for the next few days, weeks or months. But she did as asked, and opened the gift.
Hmm. The unknown had been better than the reality. Trying to keep a grimace off her face, she removed a damaged yet intricate hunk of plastic and metal that Eigo had drilled a small hole in and threaded a chain through.
“Um,” she started to say, while holding it up with a forced smile on her face. “Eigo, thank you so much for this …” She couldn’t continue and let a snort of laughter out, “… for this hunk of plastic you’ve so nicely put on a chain so I can keep it next to my heart forever.” She got the last mocking sentence out before laughing again.
“Eigo, what is it?” she asked finally, while he just looked chagrined, waiting for her to stop laughing so he could explain.
“Well, that’s why I came to get you. I can’t actually show you until you come to my workshop, but,” he said, holding up a hand to stop her questions, “in short, it is an old fighting game, a relic I got to work on one of my cobbled together screens. And since fighting is all you ever talk about anymore, I thought it was a game we could play together.” He gave a sheepish shrug. “Since I’m not ever going to be able to actually spar with you, I thought this would be the next best thing.”
Now a real smile spread across Kiriai’s face. This was a gift from a true friend. Even though Eigo didn’t like seeing how much she got hurt in her training and didn’t share her interest, he knew how much it meant to her. So he had found a gift that allowed them to share the interest together. And while she usually just tolerated Eigo’s games, she’d be happy to give this one a try. Her grandfather should take lessons from the boy!
However, the ultimatum she’d just delivered to her grandfather was forefront in her mind right now. With a sinking feeling, she came to an unwanted conclusion—there was really only one way out of her predicament. She had to get the sponsor token from Sento and she had to do it today.