The Worthy One by October Rose

The Deadly Dance

Kagome glanced over the intent faces of the students, as they lined up in neat little rows in her tiny dojo. Her bright blue eyes watched as they faced her ready for more instructions. She was teaching them the importance of balance and concentration today. Which at the time was only working for a select few after a handful of her students quickly lost their balance and fell over, earning laughter from their peers. Realizing that all her attemps were futile and she was not going to get anywhere with her students today she decided to end class a couple of minutes early.

"That's enough for today."

Kagome pretended not to see the relieved expressions on the students faces. She watched as they grabbed bags and ran excitedly to parents as they walked into the tiny dojo. She listened to the excited chatter of the students as they relayed what they had learned from her that day. Ahh, the exuberance of youth. It had been a long day. Kagome suppressed a yawn as she answered a few of the questions that some of the parents posed to her. Only after the last child had gathered their bag and walked hand in hand with their parent out of the dojo did she give in to the yawn. She slowly extended her arms above her head in a well deserved stretch.

"You spoil those children."

Kagome looked up and gave a sheepish smile at her wizened old grandfather. "Why do you say that?"

"You need to push them harder." Her grandfather stated.

Kagome tried to suppress her sigh. Her Grandfather was a harsh task master and had always demanded perfection. The one thing that he always found lacking in all of her students was the perfection in form and grace that their teacher possessed.

"They will never learn the importance of the art that you teach them if you insist on using a gentle hand. "

"Grandfather... they are children. They wish to learn for fun. They are not like I was." Kagome sighed lost in her memories. Indeed they were not like she was, and she hoped they never would be. She was a warrior trapped in a modern world. With skills that would never be of use to her in any real situation. In the real world. Kagome knelt and started to roll up some of the floor mats, bracing herself for the upcoming lecture.

The old man shuffled over to the glass cases that lined an entire wall of the dojo. Inside the gleaming cases were shelf after shelf of polished trophies, plaques and colorful ribbons. Every square inch was covered with some sort of award or recognition. Every piece in the gleaming cases belonged to the young woman who watched her grandfather shuffle to them. He paused before a framed picture of a beaming gapped tooth little girl. Each reward and merit contained bittersweet memories of the blood, the sweat and the long years of training she went through. They also contained the pain, the bitterness and the lonliness of all of the years of being a rare talent. She would gladly give up every one of them for some semblance of normalcy. For a normal childhood that would never be. Instead of competition after competition and trophy after useless trophy.

The old man glanced at the beautiful young woman that stood across the room. He narrowed his eyes as he assessed her from where she stood. He slowly shook his head. "You are wasting you talents. Those spoiled and pampered blobs of flesh are not worthy to be taught by you. You should have students that understand and appreciate the art that you have been gifted with. They are not fit to stand on the mat and draw a sword to you. They are not worthy."

Kagome tried to suppress her laughter. "They are not blobs of flesh Grandfather. Some of those so called blobs of flesh as you call them are the sons and daughters of some very important people. Those blobs of flesh are the bread and butter that keeps this place going. The families that bring their children to me realize the prestige and honor coming here gives their children. It would not do well to insult them."

Kagome watched as her grandfather huffed and turned to walk to the doorway of the dojo.

"Remember what I said Kagome."

Kagome rolled her eyes as he walked out. He always had to have the last word. She wondered if he would ever listen to what she was trying to tell him. Would he ever understand? Kagome glanced to the wall of glass cases. Silently she stared at the curling ribbons. She replayed the conversation in her head. She was happy to teach those that wanted to learn. At one time she herself had known nothing, and how she longed for those days again. But what had come so easily to her always seemed to fail in others. She was almost what some would call a freak of nature when it came to martial arts. She remembered forms and stances and different techniques being mastered in a few days, while her fellow students would struggle with the most basic of techniques. She had grown tired of all the prestige. Of so many competitions. All for some silly piece of metal or some silly bit of string to add to the already large collection. It had been fun at first, to see the beaming gaze of her grandfather and the pride on her mothers face. But eventually she had become jaded by it all. She needed a change so she had decided to teach. Hoping that it would take her mind of the lonliness of so many years inside a tiny dojo. Of so many faceless intstructors not good enough to best her in anything they had to offer. And the jealousy that had reared its ugly head time and time again. She had hoped to find a pupil worthy of her time. Many students have walked through the tiny doors of the Higurashi dojo on the hill of the Shrine. And not one had matched the spark that only Kagome seemed to possess. Most of her students simply took her class for fun. But yet once a week she opened the dojo doors to let in the giggling eager children. And she would proceed to teach them everything she knew. And she would assess each one and find them....lacking.

She walked to the cases and slowly opened the door to remove one of the numerous katanas, ripping off the ornamental ribbons as she yanked it out to reveal the smooth black leather underneath. Slowly she removed the katana from the scabbard and walked to the center of the room. The sweet hiss of steel on leather invigorated her sensed. She stretched her arms out and began the basic gentle moves of kendo. The young woman moved as if she were a force of nature and time stood still to watch the deadly play. No one could compare to the grace that the young woman possessed and all who witnessed would agree. Round and round she spun, arching her back and blocking imaginary thrusts from an imaginary opponent. She could feel the power of the moves course through her body. Kagomes long wavy black hair came loose of its ties and swirled around her like a black cloud. Each parry, each block was well rehearsed. Perfection followed every movement. The blade came to a halt as Kagome plunged the katana into the mat. Tearing through cotton and slicing onto the wood. The young woman slumped against the hilt of the katana. Her breath coming in stilted pants, fogging the steel of the sword. She cracked open her eyes to see her own face peering back at her in the shiny surface of the metal katana. The words of her Grandfather played over and over in her head. One day I will meet someone who is worthy...