Dawn spread fingers of fire across the heavens, ribbons
of rosy light painting abstract patterns on the shoji and rousing
Hiroshi from a restless sleep.
“Time for morning kata.” Kenshin's too cheery
greeting rattled the bones of his apprentice's skull.
“It's barely dawn. Why do we have to start so early?”
Hiroshi groaned, pulling the covers over his face and snuggling
deeper into the futon.
“The day is most productive when it starts with
exercise.” Kenshin yanked the covers off his slumbering apprentice,
prodding him off the futon with his foot. “We rise at this time
every day, I'm sure in time you will get used to it.”
“I seriously doubt that.” Hiroshi scrubbed a hand
across his eyes, squinting up at the mirthful face of his master.
“You are getting far too much enjoyment out of this.”
“What do you usually do in the morning?”
“I sleep through the morning, like any civilized
person.” The curt reply was a sharp contrast to the whirlwind hair
and pillow creases marring otherwise perfect cheekbones. “Couldn't
we skip morning practice and start after lunch?”
“And then you'll want to wait until evening. You've
spent enough years dawdling in bed, time to actually do something.”
A strong hand latched onto Hiroshi's rumpled yukata and heaved him to
his feet. “Your father expects me to turn you into a warrior. Get
dressed and meet me in the dojo. The sooner we start, the sooner you
get breakfast.”
The strappy ties on his hakama were a puzzle he couldn't
decode in his half asleep state. Forty minutes passed before Hiroshi
entered the dojo, hair roughly scraped back into a bushy tail, hakama
tied in an impatient knot barely restraining his crumpled yukata. The
sight of his new master peacefully meditating, hair and garments
perfectly arranged, was enough to drive him to despair.
“I see you finally made it.” Dark eyes opened to
study his reluctant student. “Tomorrow I will expect you to join me
for meditation. Clarity of mind is crucial for productive training.”
“Clarity of mind assumes I am actually awake,”
Hiroshi quipped. “I'm not sure that is possible so early in the
morning.”
Kenshin's laugh was open and unexpected. “Let's get
started.” He selected a bokken from the weapons rack. “Show me
what you know.” He handed the wooden sword to his student, ignoring
the electric tingle that rushed through him when their fingers
brushed.
Hiroshi wobbled through the first of the simple kata he
remembered, conscious of the poor showing he was making. As much as
he disliked the warrior arts he wanted to make a good impression on
the man who was giving up so much to train him. His attention was
focused on Kenshin's reaction, further distracting him from what he
should have been doing.
“Just stop,” Kenshin snapped. “Obviously we need to start at the
beginning.” He snatched the bokken from lax fingers. “Lesson
number one, how to properly hold a sword. Like this, see, all the
work is done by these fingers, the others are just a guide.”
He handed the weapon back and watched critically as his
apprentice tried to duplicate what he had been shown. “Better, but
more space between your hands. It's a lever, you get more power that
way.” Calloused fingers wrapped around Hiroshi's pampered digits,
sparking another frisson at the contact.
The next few hours passed in a blur. When Kenshin
finally called a halt the bokken needed to be pried out of his
student's hands. “I think I'll be doing that cut in my sleep,”
Hiroshi grumbled.
“Just make sure you soak your hands after we eat. I wouldn't want you to be unable to practice tomorrow.”
“Are we done for today?” The hopeful look directed
in Kenshin's direction had him feeling momentarily guilty.
“We're done for this morning. Let's get something to
eat and then we'll work on hand to hand skills for awhile.”
“How many of hours do you practice each day?”
“That depends on my duties. Eight to ten hours when
I'm home, less if we're in the field.”
“Just kill me now,” Hiroshi declared. “There's no
way I'll survive the week.”
Ah, the reluctant student faces the Master! I love this! This must not be one of the stories you showed while we were in the group together; I don't recall it. But this is lovely, Sessha - there's something beautifully vivid about your writing that appeals to all of my senses.
ReplyDeleteMaster-student confrontations are among my favorite literary/cinematic tropes. This one, of course, has the feel of absolute authenticity. And the electric sparks just under the surface ... perfect. This particular student is more truculent than most, which means he'll no doubt learn the most, too.
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