The days following Kit’s battle with Tommy were strange, even by the modified standards for weird Kit had adopted after joining Ryouzanpaku. Daisuke accelerated the rapidity of his muscle building in an effort to prepare him for technique training. Kit wasn’t surprised by that, it was just a mark that he was getting better.
Kit and Kisara were talking together during lunch two or three days later in an obscure corner of the school, when an important subject was finally breached. “What club are you gunna join to make up for quitting the karate club? Judo? Taekwondo?” Kisara asked him.
“Well... I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and I’ve decided to join... the art club,” he told her proudly.
“... The ART club?” she asked him with mild disbelief. “Is that how the story ends?”
“Of course. ‘After his great battle the hero retired from fighting to become an artist, where nobody tried to introduce their foot to his ass’,” Kit said in a rather pathetic voice.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re scared... I heard that the head of the karate club has been looking for you the past few days,” Kisara told him, the way Kit began to cower, she guessed she’d hit the nail on the head.
“That’s why I joined the gardening and writing clubs... more places to hide... more time to hide BEHIND you,” Kit answered with a massive smile.
Kisara got rather quiet for a while, but her face started to turn red, and then a strange shade of purple. “SO YOU WANNA USE ME AS A SHIELD IS THAT IT?” she asked him angrily.
“Not a shield so much as a deterrent,” Kit answered.
“That combined with hiding out in these weird parts of the school ensure that you’re never left out in the open... that you’re goal... coward?” Kisara asked him pointedly.
“This ISN’T cowardice... it’s STRATEGY!” he replied pointedly. “Do you really blame me for not wanting to get my ass kicked while I get stronger?” Kit asked.
Kisara had this funny look on her face when he looked up from his food. Her eyes had gotten huge, her ears were pulled back in a delicate expression and she was blushing a bit... Kit had seen this face when she’d looked at the puppy, but he never figured it’d be directed at him. It was amazingly cute, and it completely threw him off his train of thought. A moment later she shook her head and returned to normal, but the image was burned in his head. He could feel the heat behind his ears and cheeks and knew he was blushing now.
Then came the creeping cold... and Kit knew they weren’t alone. NOT AGAIN! WHY DOES THIS GUY ALWAYS HAVE TO SHOW UP AT THE WORST TIMES! Kit heard himself scream in his mind.
“Hello Kit, it’s been such a long time,” came the chilly words as he felt a body drape itself over his back. He was afraid to look down, but when he did somebody was holding his smaller back paws in their larger grey paws. It only lasted for a moment as Foxie’s hand slowly slid their way down Kit’s arm until his soft hands were, once again, cupping Kit’s groin. “You’ve gotten stronger I see; though it looks like only your muscles have developed; a shame considering I found your hiding place after only a few days... that means that the others searching for you could be here sometime by the end of the week. Looks like you’ll have to hide better than this,” Foxie commented tenderly.
At first Kit struggled to speak as he always did, but eventually he managed to wander out of the fog his head was in. “What’re you doing here?” Kit asked him after a moment.
“So cold to me... and you were wearing such a cute expression a moment ago, could it be that you feel something for this... tramp?” Foxie asked him smoothly as he glared over at Kisara.
The pointedness of the question caused Kit’s voice to react before his mind. “Oh it’s nothing like that... it’s just... gratitude,” Kit answered hurriedly. Kisara got this hurt look to her eyes for a moment, but she shook it off quickly.
Foxie mirrored the question in Kit’s mind surprisingly quickly. “Is it?” he asked. “As to why I’m here. You’re in a very... dicey... situation Kit. Somebody from the school paper watched the match... somehow they knew that you quit the club afterward, boasting that you were too strong for it. It’s gotten plenty of people riled up around the school, one of which is the president of the karate club,” Foxie said as he pulled an edition of the school paper.
Kit took the article out of his hand and began to read it. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that... I just didn’t want to accept his help AFTER I’d shown that I was capable,” Kit said in a defeated voice as he looked at the article... and then something caught his eye. “IT SAYS THAT YOU WROTE THIS ARTICLE!” Kit shouted at Foxie.
The furry dragon got this strange look on his face, as if he were both proud and affronted. “I am a journalist Kit! It is an ancient and noble profession. I have a proud duty to get the message to the people, be it my will or not. I have a responsibility to get the stories and share my information with the civilians of our fair school,” he said proudly. “However... I did get my hands on some other information... that’s what I do you know. I take my time, I think things through, and I know my enemies; or in this case your enemies. I can give you some prime, if incomplete, information on the Karate Club president... for a price of course,” Foxie said in a tempting voice... he held his PDA up so Kit could see that he was serious.
“What’s the cost?” Kit asked as he rolled his eyes... he hated to play Foxie’s games, but he knew that if the dragon was good for anything, it was getting dirt on people.
“You have to ask the tramp to leave... this is a very personal thing for me,” Foxie answered as he looked away from them both... he had a childish look on his face, like he’d throw a tantrum if they argued.
Kisara’s face was angry; she was clenching both her teeth and her right hand as she stood up. “I have a NAME you know... it’s Kisara... you don’t have to call me ‘tramp’ all the time,” she growled at him.
“Whatever tramp... you’re not wanted here so just get lost,” Foxie replied stubbornly.
“Foxie... if I ask her to leave... you have to agree to start calling her Kisara... referring to her as tramp is very rude,” Kit offered to him.
“I call a tramp a tramp... what’s wrong with that?” Foxie asked him with a shrug. Kit’s face was not amused, it actually surprised Foxie that he reacted that way, but the furry dragon shook off his surprise. “Fine... Kisara... whatever, just... go; I’ll let you back in when we’re done, ok?” Foxie compromised.
After she had left Foxie turned to Kit. “His name is Simon Croft; he’s a third year, or a junior, here. His stats are as follows: strength 74, speed 93, balance 69, agility 81, intelligence 43, endurance 89. By contrast yours are: strength 58, speed 89, balance 42, agility 67, intelligence 67, and endurance 91. He’s also had several years of training and experience... in competition he has a record of 23-4. If you fought this monster as you are... you’d be destroyed,” Foxie explained matter of factly.
“What’s his weakness... how can I beat him?” Kit asked eagerly.
“That would be the part that i was referring to as incomplete... I don’t have any data on how to beat him. I’m afraid that for now your best bet is to keep avoiding him at all costs,” Foxie answered him.
“That... that’s it? That’s all you’ve got on him? That he’d kill me if I fought him... I ALREADY KNEW HE’D KILL ME IF I FOUGHT HIM!” Kit cried in dismay. “You made Kisara leave the room for that?” he asked in a depressed voice.
“No! I made her leave because the price for that information was a back rub... now lay down on your stomach... you’re going to enjoy this,” Foxie said ominously. Kit tried to run, but once again he was captured by Foxie’s powers.
He felt like a puppet in the ensuing moments. He laid down on his stomach and pulled his shirt off; Foxie cooed in pleasure as his prey bent to his will. He moved his gentle hands skillfully up and down the young hybrid’s back, as he rubbed away each and every ache and pain. Kit was scared stiff, but at the same time it felt so incredibly GOOD. Kit couldn’t help but moan from the feeling of relaxation that each little knot released as it dissipated. After he had finished messaging away all of the little kinks and knots in Kit’s back. Foxie simply stood up, and looked down on him. His face was bent in a look of ecstasy... Foxie quickly took off his shirt, put on his satisfied smile and opened the door to Kisara.
“He’s all yours... good luck pleasing him like I do,” Foxie told her with a wink as he strode past her and down the hallway.
Kisara was blushing deeply when she saw Kit. “I-I didn’t think you were into that sort of thing. I mean... I didn’t think you were...” she muttered in an embarrassed tone as she walked over to him.
“That sort of.... dammit Foxie. I promise... it isn’t like that. He- he just gave me a back message i swear,” Kit stammered out.
“Then why did he have his shirt off?” Kisara asked as her face deepened.
“He-he... what. OH GOD! OH-OH GOD... he set me up!” Kit said as he felt his stomach start to wretch, he quickly snatched his shirt off the ground and hastily put it back on. “It wasn’t like that at all... I swear,” Kit told her as he realized he’d been tricked... Foxie had set things up to look like they’d done something perverted together.
It took Kit several hours to convince Kisara that nothing dirty had happened, and even then she looked at him strangely. Poor Kit had to spend the rest of the day in hiding around the campus to avoid being beaten to a pulp. He rushed from one closet, to another, from bathroom to locker room. Always trying to stay out of sight for as long as possible. Kit was still hiding out in the locker room when Kisara came to him with some bad news. “It seems that Simon has joined a delinquent gang calling themselves ‘the cage’... I have half a mind to kick their asses for choosing such a stupid name, but whatever; looks like his initiation has been decided; he is to seek you out and convince you to join them... this seems rather ominous; I sense something bad on the horizon,” she told him.
“Uh... Kisara... who told you this?” Kit asked her.
“Foxie did... why?” she asked him curiously.
“Why didn’t he tell me?” Kit asked her.
“He didn’t know where to find you... it sounds like this happened today; rumor has it he was sent to look over the freshman class and see if anybody interesting cropped up,” Kisara responded.
“Kisara... you’re in a men’s locker room; just to see me,” Kit explained as he looked around. The next class was getting ready for gym. Evidently she hadn’t noticed. Kisara’s face turned a shade of burgundy usually reserved for wines. She began to stammer apologies to everybody she passed as she left.
After class was over and the clubs were done Kit got together with Kisara as they prepared to leave, but of course it couldn’t go that simply. He was at the entrance to the school when somebody barked his name behind him. “Sunahama; stop!”
“Dammit!” Kit whispered under his breath as he turned around. “What do you want?” he asked irritably... with much more confidence than he actually possessed.
“It took me a few days, but I told them I’d find you... you need to come with me,” Simon told him. Seeing him now; Kit was surprised by how much bigger he appeared from the last time... he was like a wall of bear meat, all muscle and intimidation.
“I don’t need to go anywhere! Anything you’ve got to say to me can be said right here,” Kit answered him.
“If you say so... I just didn’t want your girlfriend to have to watch you getting your ass kicked, but if you insist we can do this right now,” the other responded with a shrug. Kit made a tactical error at this point... he held his ground as his enemy advanced. Kisara was about to respond in a very animated tone, but Kit was quicker this time.
“I don’t really feel like fighting you right now,” Kit answered obliviously. When it came it was fast, and painful... a sucker punch right to the face. By this point Kit had built up a good degree of balance, so he managed to stay on his feet, but his head was still ringing.
“How about now?” the president asked him.
“Kisara... go home,” Kit told her sternly as he spit out the blood in his mouth.
“Thought so,” was all the other answered. Kisara gave him a worried look, but eventually she relented and turned to leave.
“I really don’t want to fight you, but if you insist; I suppose I don’t really have a choice,” Kit answered as he planted his feet in the same firm, low stance Hitomi had taught him. He cleared his mind like he had last time and didn’t think of what was about to happen.
Simon came at him in a strange stance; his body was half turned so that the he had his left arm back by his face. He bounced from one foot to the other quickly, changing his balance in a flash. When he came at Kit, he was moving incredibly fast for somebody of their age, but not too fast for Kit to see. However, seeing it, and being able to stop it are two totally different subjects.
It hit Kit, and it was hard. This time the president followed up with a kick to the ribs, followed by a punch to the gut, and finally a kick to Kit’s knee. The strain on his lower body forced Kit to the ground, and from there it was just a rain of pain throughout Kit’s body. ~
How disappointing Simon Croft thought to himself as he beat on the now unconscious lump of flesh beneath him. And I thought this one was gonna be different... guess his fight with Tommy was just a fluke he told himself as he hit the hybrid one last time.
What happened next was strange, somehow the kid caught a hold of his wrist while unconscious... and he held it. At first it was nothing, but then he started to squeeze and it was like vice had him by the wrist. He shook his arm quickly to try and wriggle out of the kid’s grip, but he just clung to him. Eventually he had to pry each individual finger away one at a time. When he looked down at his wrist there was a bruise, and it hurt to clench his right hand... the kid wasn’t much of a fighter, but his strength was crazy... who the hell taught this guy?~
When Kit came to, Foxie was standing over him. “Are you ok?” Foxie asked concernedly.
“Yeah, Foxie. I’m fine... Gunna have to watch where I step next time I’m on the stairs,” he said with a half-hearted chuckle. Foxie tried for a long time to get him to lie down and remain still, or allow him to help Kit stand, but Kit didn’t really feel like being helped around at the moment. So he shrugged Foxie off. Foxie seemed to take that as a hint that Kit didn’t want him following him.
When he finally arrived at the dojo he was thankful to hear that Kisara had returned, and then gone out to shop for groceries while the masters awaited his return. Daisuke was selected as the one to talk to him he supposed, because the Ninja master waited for him patiently.
“What happened Kit?” Daisuke asked him.
“I didn’t want to fight him, but he hit me, and I couldn’t just walk away from that,” Kit began slowly. “I knew that I wasn’t ready for him, but when somebody hits you... you have to at least try to stand up for yourself or it’ll get worse,” Kit told him after a moment.
“I see, and then you fought, and he kicked your ass?” Daisuke asked him insightfully.
“Yeah... he beat me pretty bad, and it hurt, but I think what hurt the most was the realization that I wasn’t strong enough to protect myself yet,” Kit confided in his master.
“Why does that hurt?” Daisuke asked him. Outside there was something of a commotion as Kisara returned with the groceries.
“It’s my dream,” Kit confessed shyly.
“What’s your dream Kit?” Daisuke prodded him.
Kit was staring out the open door at Kisara, she hadn’t looked over at him yet, but she was speaking to her uncle. “I want to be a hero,” Kit answered without looking away.
Daisuke looked like he was about to laugh when he stood up. “That’s all I needed to hear, kid. Denali; how about you start training him in Muay Boran today?” Daisuke remarked... he called out to the Muay Boran master in a slightly louder voice; which caused Kit to imply that the other master had been listening to their conversation. ~
Kisara came in to see him then, but Kit ducked his head for a moment. “Hey Kit... what happened?” she asked him as she looked him over.
“Oh... ya know... I wasn’t careful on the stairs. Anyway, master Denali is going to train me in Muay Boran so I better get started,” he answered her.
“Did you really...” she started to ask him, but Kit had already turned away. “Hey, Kit, did you really fall down the stairs?” she asked as she went after him, she had reached out to grab him by the wrist when somebody else put their hand on her shoulder. When she looked up it was Daisuke.
“Let it go this time,” he told her solemnly.
“Daisuke, something happened and he won’t tell me what... he’s hurt,” she told him softly.
“He was in a fight... he lost. Kit’s in a very delicate place right now; his pride is hurt and this is the first time he’s had enough pride to worry about it. First loss is always the hardest. I’ll wager he wants to talk to you right now, but there are somethings he doesn’t want you to hear. Believe it or not, Kit’s a man, and there are some faces a man just can’t show a girl,” Daisuke explained to her.
“What do I do, sensei?” she asked softly.
“Give him time. In a few hours he’ll be back to normal, until then give him some space. When he’s ready he’ll come to you. The first loss is always the toughest, but I think this kid is gunna surprise us... I’d better go watch his training with Denali,” Daisuke told her as he took off. It was the first time she could remember that he’d given her advice without being condescending.~
Daisuke stretched out atop the building closest to where Kit and Denali were preparing for their training. Around the yard all of the masters were gathered in small clumps to sit and watch or listen. Hitomi was sitting next to Daisuke where he lay.
Kit and Denali were in the process of wrapping the pupils hands with tape. They taped him from about half-way down his forearm all the way to the lowest knuckle on each finger, they had to wrap each finger individually. “So tell me, Kit... what exactly does it mean to be a hero?” Denali asked him conversationally.
“Well... I guess it would mean not attacking people just because I’m stronger than them; I suppose there are other things I would have to learn, but for now I think that would be enough,” Kit answered slowly.
“What is your goal for martial arts Kit... what would signify to you that you have become a hero?” the parentie asked him kindly.
“I have to be able to protect the things that matter to me,” Kit responded instinctively.
“You need a more solid goal, Kit. Something that you can aim for that I can use to help me help and direct you along your path. What’s your goal?” Denali asked him with a little more pep.
A risky tactic Denali... I hope you know what you’re doing here. Daisuke thought as he lay there.
“I can tell you, but you can’t laugh at me,” Kit stipulated after a moment.
“Of course not, we’re talking about a man’s goal here... I’d never laugh at your goal,” Denali promised. Kit didn’t answer right away, which meant he was having some sort of reservations... probably weighing the truth of what Denali had said.
You have to be gentle here Denali... Kit’s at a turning point, if you push him too far now he might decide to call it quits. Daisuke noted in his mind as he rolled over so he could look down on the scene below them... he wanted to see this for himself. ~
Kit’s face was beet red he could tell from the heat around his cheeks and ears. He was about to confide something very important to Denali... in front of everybody. He looked over at Kisara, who was watching his preparations from afar. “I want to be able to protect Kisara,” Kit said softly enough that she couldn’t hear.
At first nobody responded, then Daisuke nearly fell off the nearest roof, he managed to grip onto the ledge at the last second.
Daisuke busted out laughing, and at first Kit thought it was at the fact that he nearly fell. He couldn’t have heard a mumble from that far, Kit thought... until he saw that Daisuke was pointing at him. “YOU PROTECT KISARA? THAT’S GOTTA BE THE STUPIDEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD!” Daisuke shouted from where he was... everybody could hear it... even Kisara who was only standing maybe ten feet away, she was going through some training with her uncle, but her face became a funny shade of red after Daisuke shouted.
“IT IS NOT!” Kit shouted back to Daisuke seriously as he stood up.
“You’re right, it’s not!” Daisuke said as he got his laughter under control... even dangling from the roof by one hand he managed to convey a look of serious understanding to Kit.
“He’s right, it’s not!” Denali added after a moment, he put a hand on Kit’s shoulder so that their student would return his attention to the master he was training with now. “In order to protect her, you’re going to have to become better and stronger than she is... she’s had a lifetimes worth of experiences you haven’t, so if you’re going to catch up to her you’re gunna have to learn fast, and not slouch. She’s going to be getting better even while you’re getting better, so you’re going to have to advance faster than her,” Denali explained to him.
“Then I suppose we better get started,” Kit said as he turned to Denali to begin training.
“HEY DON’T IGNORE ME LIKE THAT! DO I LOOK LIKE I NEED YOUR PROTECTION... I’LL KICK YOUR ASS IF THAT’S WHAT YOU THINK!” Kisara yelled at him from the other room, she was hitting the mitts with her uncle, but she was attacking them vigorously.~
Daisuke managed to roll himself back onto the rooftop effortlessly. Well done Denali. I’m surprised... I haven’t seen Kisara get worked up like that since that time that elder told her she couldn’t have the puppy she found on the street... maybe there is hope for the kid after all... whoodda thought he’d say something like that? Daisuke admitted as he lay back down. Maybe there’s something going on between those two.
“Looks like we’re going to have to share him with the others now,” Hitomi observed quietly.
“Ya, but that was always the goal I guess... so try not to make him weak while you’re training him... I’d hate to have to try to teach him Kempo too,” Daisuke told her in his usual superior tone. ~
“Alright Kit, before we get started there are a few things I need you to tell me. First of all... what type of fighting did this guy use?” Denali asked him.
Kit thought about it... he had no clue. “I... don’t... know?” Kit said after a moment of thinking.
Denali just put his hand to his forehead as he tried not to look frustrated. “I should have known it wasn’t that easy. Alright; let’s pretend for a few minutes that you have at least a LITTLE talent for this sort of thing... tell me; how’d he stand, and what were his movements like?” Denali asked him patiently.
Kit did his best approximation to imitate the way Simon had stood and approached him. It was rather faulty in comparison, but it seemed familiar enough for Denali to figure it out.
“It looks like he’s using karate but incorporating some boxing into his form... definitely a tournament fighter... Muay Boran is just the thing for somebody like that... it’s not really approved for tournament fighting because it involves using your knees and elbows more than any other martial art,” Denali explained to Kit.
“Why is using elbows and knees so bad?” Kit asked him curiously.
“Because if you do something wrong you could kill your opponent,” Denali answered simply.
“Then why would you want to use it?” Kit asked.
“Because if you do everything right you could kill your opponent,” Denali replied with a quick shrug.
“You- you’re a very scary man,” Kit said as he shied backwards.
“Maybe, but if you wanna beat this jerk, I’m your best chance kid. He’s used to fighting as sport, so he’ll be thinking of things in terms of a match... that last thing he’ll expect is for you to use Muay Boran to take him down. See Kit, there is one minor problem with the way he fights,” Denali told him. It took a few minutes for Denali to explain it so that Kit understood, but when he did; Kit had to agree that Denali was correct. Denali began coaching Kit in how to use his elbows and knees that day.
He put on the padded mitts and had Kit attack. It started out as just punches, then it progressed to kicks, then they threw in elbows and knees. As Kit progressed Denali even threw in a few strikes of his own for Kit to dodge. The Muay Boran master even threw his own hits at varying speeds, citing that most of the time his opponents would hit or kick at different rates and that in those situations Kit would have to adjust his style to accommodate this difference... or things were going to get painful for him.
When Daisuke heard just how fast Kit’s opponent had been, he decided that they needed to make a slight change to the training regimen... he brought out a different form of harness for Kit. This one, instead of using weight, was built so that it used both weight and tightly coiled springs to resist each of Kit’s movements. When Katrina, the Taekwondo master, saw Daisuke’s new harness she inquired about perhaps building one to help build up Kit’s leg strength, seeing as her art focused more on kicking than on hitting.
Thus, an hour later, Kit was fully outfitted with gear that was kind enough to make it all but impossible for him to move. Each step was being resisted by so many springs and so much weight, Kit was afraid he’d fall and be unable to rise. To help him learn to cope with all the resistance, they set him to striking the post that night; he had to alternate between hitting and kicking to get adjusted. Kit was feeling pretty dejected when Brock came to help him.
“Master... I’m striking the post, but it’s so hard!” Kit complained to him.
“Can I help?” Brock asked... Kit thought back to the last time Brock had ‘helped’ him... he’d nearly killed him... maybe he’d spoken to the wrong person.
“I think I can handle it,” Kit said after a moment.
“Your approach is wrong... I’ll tell you how I do it. I set a goal, and if I can’t reach that goal, I set a punishment. I make a deal with myself and it helps me, but the real trick to helping yourself get stronger is to set your goal as impossible, and then when you fail, before you begin your punishment, you make a deal with yourself that you will do something else. This way... the closer you get to achieving your impossible goals, the stronger you’ll become,” Brock explained to him.
Brock had always seemed so simple-minded to Kit, but now that his master was there before him, offering him assistance in an unexpected way Kit began to think that perhaps he had misjudged Brock.
“I will hit the post thirty times, and if I can’t then I’ll kick the post thirty times,” Kit declared.
“NO! NOT ENOUGH! TEN THOUSAND TIMES EACH!” Brock shouted as the strange glow crept into his eyes. When he looked back to Kit his eyes had nothing but kindness.
“YES MASTER!” Kit shouted with vigor as he began anew.
Almost an hour later Kit had struck the post almost 1500 times, but he could hardly move his arms. “I can’t punch anymore!” Kit screamed in frustration.
“Then you must kick,” Brock said heartily as he gave Kit a thumbs up.
“RIGHT! I will kick this post ten thousand times, and if I can’t then I’ll run 100 laps around the city!” Kit declared before he began. After his feet fell like they were going to fall off it was time for them to cook.
After eating Kit resumed his physical training, and surprisingly, he asked Daisuke to ride behind him as he ran. After thirty laps Kit thought he was going to have a heart attack.
“That’s enough physical training for today, Kid. When we get back the others are going to want to do some technique training with you,” Daisuke commented to Kit.
Sure enough, when they got back to Ryouzanpaku, Natasha was waiting to at long last teach him some Jujitsu. She had a life size mannequin waiting for him there.
“The key tenant of Jujitsu is the art of throwing. I want you to throw this mannequin down,” she instructed him. Kit walked over, grabbed it by the shirt and tried to whip it to the floor quickly. It felt like it weighed a couple hundred pounds and in the end it drug him down with it.
“That wasn’t a throw Kit... it was more of a take-down than anything. The difference between throwing an enemy and taking them down is the way you do it and the result. You took your enemy down there, but in the process you took yourself down as well; to avoid following them down, use a part of your body as leverage... like the fulcrum of a lever. Apply pressure to opposite ends of their center of gravity. If you use part of yourself as a lever it should replace their center of gravity as the focus of their weight, making it easier to throw them. Like this,” She told him as she approached him slowly.
She put one leg out, crooking her knee, she took him by the shoulder and bent him forward so that his stomach was over her knee. Then, in one slick motion, she pushed down on his shoulder and pulled his ankle up, causing him to go tumbling over knee and onto the ground face up.
“That’s not a very common style of throw, but it proves the point... I’ll teach you a shoulder throw,” she told him. This time she let him stand upright. “First... grab them by the collar or the chest if at all possible,” she explained as she firmly grasped his collar. “This is the tricky part. You want to pull them into you, but as you pull, you wanna rotate your body so that you place both your shoulder blade and the back of your elbow in their chest and stomach. After that you’ll start to bend forward, and as you do you’ll kick up one of your legs, that’ll help you throw and it allows you to keep your balance afterward. Make sure to swing your arms in an arc or you could drop them on their head and cause some serious brain damage,” Natasha explained to him slowly. After she’d explained it to him she demonstrated the technique.
It hurt, but only in his back... for now. “I want you to throw this mannequin just like that,” she told him as he lay on his back. She helped him to his feet and then stood back to watch. She’d let him throw the mannequin a few times before stepping in to offer him some advice, and if he had difficulty she would demonstrate to him, once in slow motion so that he could see how she was doing it, and then again she would perform the whole operation.
By the end of the day he still hadn’t managed a successful throw... the statue was too heavy for him to throw around just yet. As soon as it’s weight started to shift to his back his leg would give out and he’d fall.
After he finished with Natasha he returned to Hitomi to finish out his day... he’d spent too much time with his other masters to get to the others. Brock and Katrina were very upset by this situation, and so he had to do double sessions with them the next day.
His training session with Brock was a little odd... he got the distinct feeling that the karate master wasn’t dealing with a full deck upstairs. He began to demonstrate a technique he called double-strike. The theory preyed upon the usual human instinct to protect their face. He explained that every warrior most feared and thus most expected an attack to their head. Double-strike was a theoretical attack that would make use of this conditioning. The practitioner would punch with both fists at once, attacking at both the head and the stomach; a warrior not conditioned properly would block the strike to the face and thus leave their stomach exposed.
He attempted to demonstrate his technique... on himself. The problem of course is that if one hand attacks his face and one attacks his stomach and he has to have at least one to block... basic math and anatomy were both against him. He was perplexed for twenty minutes on how to demonstrate when he remembered that Kit was there. However, he didn’t think to hold back his strength and so he almost killed the young martial artist by punching a hole through him... luckily the young fighter’s guard was completely shattered by the facial strike, causing him to void his bowels, and the sudden thinning of his stomach seemed to remind the karate master just who he was dealing with... Kit had a concussion when Hitomi came to him.
When he woke up a few hours later he couldn’t remember the accident. “Brock colored you a picture to make it all better,” Brock told him... it looked like a grade-schooler’s stick figures drawn in orange crayon... the script at the top however appeared to be calligraphy... it was a flowing, delicate script. “Kisara had to write for me,” he said abashed; which gave Kit the distinct impression that the karate master couldn't read. Kit was lying in his bed resting when he heard Natasha and Brock talking to each other.
“Did you forget to hold back? You were only suppose to go at about 5%,” Natasha reminded him.
“But... but Kit is delicate like glass... Brock only used 1%...,” the simple master replied shortly. “Brock didn’t mean to hurt him... he’s just breakabler than Brock thought,” he continued.
1%? Staggering! Kit thought quietly. If I train like he does... I’ll be able to beat anybody. They’re all working so hard to train me to beat a tournament fighter... watch out bullies, Kitachi Sunahama is about to make a comeback! he thought happily.
