“Every citizen of our new society is important, from the youngest farm worker to the burb chiefs and even the Founding Families. Unlike the world we left behind, every citizen has an opportunity to advance as high as hard work and ambition will take them.”

— Founding Father Kado Tagami, speech to prospective citizens at Southern Burb’s Intake Gate

Kiriai searched frantically through the crowds of people streaming into the dojo’s spectator seating. Where was Sento?

More people filled the atrium of Jitaku headquarters than Kiriai had seen in a long time. Friends and families of the favorites didn’t want to miss out if Boss Akuto chose their loved one. Besides, the upcoming ceasefire and break from the war had lifted everyone’s spirits. The smiles and excited chatter would have been contagious if Kiriai had found her boyfriend in the crowd. She’d come early to catch Sento before they made the official announcements, but had seen no sign of him. Her stomach roiled as she imagined his hurt if they chose her and not him. She had to warn him.

“Kiriai. Get over here.” Her name, whispered in a harsh tone, pulled her attention to the dojo floor. Mikata was standing in the second row of scrappers and waving for her to hurry. Kiriai ignored her and hurried along the edge of the dojo, scanning each row of fighters for Sento’s familiar figure in case he’d lined up with the new fighters.

“Line up!” An assistant sensei’s voice barked the order loud enough to be heard in the corners of the large space.

This couldn’t be happening. Out of time, Kiriai hurried and took her spot at the beginning of the second row. Sento outranked her by a handful of places and should have been somewhere in the front row.

A half-second later, from the opposite entrance, her boyfriend jogged onto the dojo floor. Kiriai risked a quick hand motion to get his attention. But he found his spot, turned his back to her and fell in line without responding. Kiriai’s stomach twisted, and she regretted the size of her morning meal.

“Attention!”

Hundreds of hands clapped against legs as every fighter responded in unison to the command. The low chatter in the spectator stands quieted and silence filled the large hall. Kiriai saw Bushi-sensei emerge and make his way to the front. The veteran teacher had the respect of every one of his fighters and, despite his age, still had the power to best a significant number of them.

“Welcome!” His gravelly voice had even more penetrating power than his assistant’s. “This is the time of year to step aside from our regular duties and celebrate the accomplishments and dedication of our fighters.” He turned to address the onlookers. “Here before you, you see the men and women who fight on your behalf, help you resolve your disputes and battle to keep our enemies from taking our territory. Please stand and give them the respect and honor that is their due.”

All the crowd needed was his permission. With cheers from many throats, spectators on either side of the dojo rose to their feet and filled the space with their enthusiasm. It was a heady experience that distracted Kiriai from her problems. She was part of something larger than herself. These were her people, and she fought to protect them. Her shoulders straightened with the pride she felt. This was what she’d dreamed of since she was a child.

Bushi-sensei waited until the voices began to fade and with a nod indicated the crowd should retake their seats.

“Next week begins the ceasefire as our best scrappers go to Southern Core and fight for the chance to be chosen personally as Burb Chief Kosui’s newest brawlers. Several of these fighters could win a permanent spot serving the chief and Southern Core. They will represent the best of Jitaku Hood.”

Neighbors quickly hushed the few murmurs of excitement among the spectators. No one wanted to miss the names. Bushi-sensei wasn’t known for long speeches.

“Boss Akuto has chosen the following sixteen senior scrappers as Jitaku Hood’s tribute this year. Scrapper Hyokin”—Bushi-sensei paused a moment to give friends and family a chance to cheer before moving on to the next name—“Scrapper Shosha . . .”

Kiriai’s heart hammered as the dojo’s head sensei announced each name with clear and distinct syllables. This was an honor most of her colleagues had been working toward their whole lives. She felt like a fraud for taking one of their spots, even if it helped their hood’s war effort. She focused back on the names, desperately hoping to hear Sento’s.

Her tension grew as the list and cheers continued without her boyfriend’s name being announced. At least Bushi-sensei hadn’t announced hers yet either. She knew it was coming, but every second of delay was a moment more she could enjoy.

Around her, broad smiles replaced hopeful ones while others grew more desperate.

“Four more left,” someone whispered in the row behind Kiriai and she couldn’t stand it anymore. Shisen had been encouraging her to practice her pre-cog skill during fights and stressful situations. This definitely qualified as stressful.

Bushi-sensei announced another name, neither Sento’s nor hers. Kiriai closed her eyes and focused. Her gift often acted with a mind of its own, responding best when she relaxed completely, in control of her emotions. However, it also seemed to respond when she needed it most. While it would only give her one or two seconds’ glimpse into the future, Kiriai couldn’t handle waiting to hear Sento’s name any longer. She needed to know. Now.

She extended a mental hand toward her gift and with a push that was becoming more and more natural, she freed it. Slow! She gave the trigger command while pinching the fingers of her right hand together. The word and physical movement had anchored and improved her control of the gift.

Nothing happened.

“Scrapper Tenga.” Cheers rang out from the left and Tenga broke form and gasped in delight before snapping back to attention, a huge grin on her face.

From behind, Kiriai could see Sento’s shoulders slump, though he kept his head high.

She blew out a long slow breath and tried again. One more time. Slow!

Finally! The familiar distortion of sound and movement pulled everything around her almost to a standstill as her pre-cog gift played out the next few moments of the future in slow motion. Kiriai watched Bushi-sensei look down at the paper in his hand before returning his gaze to the fighters arrayed in front of him. His mouth opened with an exaggerated movement as he announced the next name.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Please be Sento! Please be Sento! Kiriai couldn’t help chanting in her mind as her gift drew out the moment into a painful stretch.

“S-c-r-a-p-p-e-r—”

Kiriai would have held her breath if her gift didn’t ensure she experienced the future as it played out.

“K-i-r-i-a-i—”

Horror filled her as she watched Sento’s body flinch in slow motion. His head turned back to her and just before she could see his face, her gift stopped. In a blur, the world around her rewound, everything and everyone returning to the places they’d been in when her gift had first activated.

Sick with resignation, Kiriai watched Bushi-sensei looked down at his list. She wished she hadn’t bothered. Knowing what would happen next was torture. Why didn’t she have a disappearing gift? Now that would be useful.

“Scrapper Kiriai.”

She heard Mikata gasp nearby and there were loud cheers from the bystanders. Kiriai thought she even heard a loud whoop in Eigo’s distinctive voice. That would have normally made her smile, but not now. She kept her eyes focused on the back of Sento’s head, knowing what was coming and trying to put on a brave face.

Sure enough, the shock of hearing her name made her boyfriend break ranks and turn to look over his shoulder. The look on his face was confused and concerned, with a touch of anger. She wanted to explain and tried to communicate how she felt across the distance. She mouthed, I’m sorry. He didn’t acknowledge the apology. Instead, his expression cleared, and he put on the blank mask he used to keep everyone at a distance.

And that was it. He was facing the front again, and Kiriai’s heart ached. Would he ever forgive her?

The room had quieted again.

“Congratulations to our chosen fighters.” Bushi-sensei gave them a bow of respect. “Remember, those who remain here at home will have just as important a role in protecting our hood as the chosen brawlers will in protecting our burb. I will announce the final name and then you may all proceed to the dojo cafeteria, which we’ve opened to everyone for a celebratory brunch. Please join us and honor these dedicated fighters who put themselves on the line for all of us.”

Ancestors. Please, if there is any way, have Bushi-sensei read Sento’s name. Please.

Kiriai knew her ancestors’ job wasn’t to make life easy on her, but she would appreciate any help at the moment.

“Our final fighter is Scrapper—” Bushi-sensei paused and seemed to enjoy everyone hanging on his next word. Kiriai wanted to throw a sandal at the man.

“Senior Scrapper Sento!”

The crowd cheered and Kiriai sagged with relief and joy. Thank you, Ancestors!

“Congratulations to all those chosen for this year’s tribute!” Bushi-sensei said over the noise of the crowd. The voices quieted. “You represent Jitaku Hood. Do us proud in Southern Core. Please, take today to celebrate. There will be no training or fights today. Congratulations!” He gave a nod to his assistant sensei, who barked out the command everyone was waiting for.

“Dismissed!”

The orderly lines of fighters arrayed on the dojo floor transformed into a milling crowd full of excitement and disappointment. Kiriai hurried to push toward where she’d seen Sento standing last. He wasn’t there. Why was he so hard to find today? On a hunch, Kiriai moved toward the closest exit. She had to maneuver around a cluster of excited family members gathered around a newly chosen tribute. She glimpsed Sento’s back as he disappeared around the corner leading to the changing rooms.

Where was he going? Didn’t he want to celebrate? Her unease returned. She just needed a chance to explain.

“Sento!” she called out, but the crowd’s noise swallowed her voice. Kiriai put on a burst of speed and ignored the sounds of protest as she broke free of the crowd and jogged down the hallway.

“Sento!” She tried again, this time her voice filled the empty corridor. Hand on the door to the men’s changing room, Sento stopped, but didn’t turn around. By the time Kiriai got close, she could see the tension in his posture.

“Let me explain,” she said as she put a hand on his shoulder.

He finally turned around and Kiriai swallowed when she saw his face.

“I came early to find you and explain beforehand—”

“—Jaaku already told me that you insisted the boss include me if he wanted you.” His words were quiet but sharp with a cold mix of anger and hurt.

Kiriai was stunned. Jaaku? Hatred for the man swelled up. She tamped it down and tried to explain.

“It wasn’t like that,” she stammered, struggling to find the right words to explain. “We’re both going together. Isn’t that better than you going alone and having to leave me behind? You have your dream. What does it matter if they chose me too?”

Sento shook his head and rubbed his face with one hand, his emotions losing their edge. “I know. Logically, I know. But hearing your name when mine hadn’t been called? That’s why I left. I need some time to calm down before I can talk about this. Just give me some time.”

He slid the door open before Kiriai could stop him.

“But I have to explain—”

He didn’t stop. The door slid shut automatically and Kiriai just stood there staring at the black-and-white pattern of squares on the door. She knew lives were on the line for her upcoming mission. She should plan and focus on how to save the gifted on that list. Instead, all she could think about was how to fix things with Sento.

Audrey Hepburn said, “The best thing to hold onto in life is each other.”

Kiriai groaned. I’m not in the mood, Yabban, she thought as she made her way to the exit, avoiding the still-celebrating crowd in the dojo. And who is Audrey Hepburn, anyway?

She was a British actor often considered an icon in movies with a famous sense of fashion. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her.

What? I didn’t understand half of that. What’s an actor? An icon?

Kiriai could almost feel Yabban ramping up for a large dump of information.

Never mind! I’ll take your word for it. Besides, I agree with her. Sento is the best thing for me to hold onto in my life. The problem is, he doesn’t want to hold onto me at the moment.

I apologize. This is still a new skill for me. With your feedback, I should improve. I will search for a more applicable saying.

Kiriai had exited the dojo during her silent conversation with Yabban and was making her way through a mostly deserted park.

No need, Yabban. I know exactly who I need to talk to. He may not have wise sayings, but he always has funny ones.