"Down beside where the riverbed sleeps
is a man not knowin' what he should feel
mocked by the wave that beats the waters edge
There for the grace of God go I"
-Dave King



The remainder of the week occurred in a very similar manner to that first day.

"What are you doing? The Chiburi follows the Kirioroshi! You can't put it right after Furikaburi!"

"Why not?"

"Because, baka, you haven't even brought down your katana. It's still floating above their head."

"Oh."

Most of his problems revolved around vocabulary, and several times he was boxed about the ears for a horrid mispronunciation. Hiroko found herself constantly adjusting his stance and grip, always sure to explain why and to what extent his fault had fallen. But training did not revolve solely around actual physical combat.

"What is the Principle of Strategy?"

"The Principle of Strategy," he recited in a similar manner to that of a child in a spelling competition. "is having one thing, to know ten thousand things."

"What is the task of the good foreman?"

"To-" He thought a moment. "To know the abilities and limitations of his men and to move about them and... and ask nothin' unreasonable."

"What is the task of the carpenter?"

"To know what tools will work best for what tasks." There was a pause. "And to work well under his master," added Fordo quickly, seeing the threatening glint in her eyes.

"How does this assist the carpenter?"

"If he understands proper technique and learns measurements, he can become a foreman himself. Someday."

"And how is this like the warrior?" She paused in her usual pacing around him, the book laying open in her arms.

He bit his lip, thinking deeply. "Well... if you know what... what works and you, erm, you pay attention..." His voice faded and he stared hard at the opposite wall as though expecting the answer to appear. After a time it became quite obvious that he didn't remember the answer at all.

"The simplest, yet most important question. It figures. I suggest you study some more." She tossed the novel to his lap.

"Why do I have to know this anyway?"

Such a comment rather infuriated Hiroko and she pounced him in rage. "Fighting isn't about beating the shite out of them before they do the same to you! It's about knowledge and common sense, both of which you seem to lack. Twenty laps around the block, and make it fast."

There surfaces a certain amount of respect for someone who beats you senseless in an attempt to teach you combat and Fordo realised this heartily during his training with Hiroko. He learned quickly and was eager to please her with his developing skills. She didn't notice, or if she did, said nothing and continued to scold his misdoings, correct his stances and insist on constant toil until supper. More often than not, Fordo wondered if she, too, had some regenerative abilities that healed the rug burns, bokken bruises and overall weariness. Every morning she was in to wake him at six o' clock, every night she was up to lecture on Strategy; always fully and insistent, watching like a very concerned and loving (though slightly cantankerous) hawk.

But he watched her as well. In fact, he could hardly stop watching her: the graceful arches of her back and arms as she slashed and twirled the practice swords; the whipping of her hair as she whirled through hand combat; the agitated frown that grew between her brows when he failed to recall proper instruction. But mostly her eyes. Somehow, he was fixated by those eyes. Never had so dark and deep a thing graced his vision. And he wallowed in them senselessly. They seemed to fit her face so well, managing to accent the contours of her cheeks and the slope of her nose-

"Fordo?" He'd drifted out again during their evening lecture. It was hard not to daydream in that warm, little room where they both sat cross-legged on the bed and smelling of the fresh sandalwood soap that Basil insisted on. Add the fact that he could watch her all he wanted and drift through the soft sea of her voice, and he was as far gone as could be. "Are you all-right?"

"Sure, I'm fine." Futilely, he attempted to compose himself and concentrate once more.

"That's the third day in a row." She set down Go Rin No Sho and took his hands fondly, sending a little tingle up Fordo's spine. "Maybe we should take a break from training." A gentle smile crossed Oko's face.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, there's no rush or anything. And tomorrow's Saturday." Fordo gave her a quizzical look that clearly stated he didn't know the significance of that. "Mika wants to go to Temple and I'd promised I'd take her. Why don't we do something afterwards?"

"What kind of thing?"

"We could get dinner and go to the zoo or a matinee." She shrugged. "I don't know. We can take a vote in the morning."

He thought for a moment about the prospect of spending the day with Hiroko without getting beaten to death. It seemed intriguing. "I'd like that."

Her grin widened. "Brilliant!" She pulled her hands back to the book and a twinge of disappointment fell across Fordo. "What's the time?"

"Half-past nine."

"Are you going to remember any of this? The book, I mean?"

"Probably not," he replied with a wicked grin.

"Good. I don't want to teach it." She let out a sigh and stretched onto her back. "And it's Friday and I've stopped caring." Fordo chuckled quietly and gazed as her eyelids shut and her breath evened. A strange sort of silence filled the room: foreign and slightly uncomfortable. It made Hiroko shift and open her eyes. For whatever reason, Fordo was watching her. Closer to analysing, actually. It seemed... well, rather queer and her cheeks were gradually flushing. "What are you watching?"

His head tilted just slightly to the left. "You."

"What ever for?"

"Don't know," Fordo sighed. Realising her discomfort, he yawned casually and turned intently to the window. "Hiro?"

"Hai?"

A deep breath was drawn. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For putting up with me. For not giving up just because I'm pig-headed and over-eager. For taking the piss right back soon as I give it to you." There was a moment of soft silence.

"For being your friend?"

"Aye. That." The quiet returned and, for a time, neither party spoke, and wouldn't have been able to if they'd wanted to. They both looked out Hiroko's window at the autumn stars, marveling at the closeness of another human being to them.

"Thank you."

"What?" Fordo started a bit.

"I said 'thank you.'"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Why're you thanking me?"

"Because..." She thought a bit. "Because I've never really had a friend."

This was surprising. "What about Guiness? And Sissely?"

"They're closer to siblings than friends."

"Didn't you know anyone before you came here?" Glancing over, he noticed that her face was flushed and her eyes sad. "I-I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. I can't stop who I am and what I look like."

"That's not what I mean." He could feel her gaze on him. "I meant that I'm sorry they treated you badly. And I'm sorry that there's never been anyone in your life that could really see you for who you are."

"Oh?"

It was Fordo's turn to take his companion's hands. "You're a brilliant person and you have so much to teach everyone. And I keep forgetting that there's anything different about you that doesn't have to do with you knowing more than sixty percent of the people I know."

She looked like she might cry again, but he was fairly sure it wasn't from old memories.

*

,,Schwesi! Was machen wir?"

"I don't know. Fordo?" They were sitting in the outside seating of a downtown café. Mika seemed to be getting terribly ansy in the cool October air and Hiroko was drawing little circles in her soup.

"Wait, what am I being asked?"

"What are we doing today?"

He stretched languidly and shrugged a bit. "I don't know. Was I supposed to make the decisions?" Hiroko poked him sharply with her dripping soup spoon. "Fine! I'll decide something." There was a rather lengthy pause.

,,Und..."

"I just realised that I haven't the foggiest what there is to do in this town."

"Oh for the love of-" She let out a rather irritated sigh and seized her car keys. "Come on, then." Fordo stacked up the dishes quickly before following behind Mika. They piled into the smart car and began heading east. Behind him, Mika sang happily and watched the passing traffic. This made him smile for some reason and, since he knew not the words but had a decent ear, he began to sing along. Hiroko concentrated on the road.

They drove for a time; until the tall buildings and uniformed roads became a little wilder and much quieter. Hiroko found the drive she sought and pulled in, finding a parking space and turning off the engine. It was a park, with swings and slides, that overlooked a rather lovely little pond. Mika bolted for the swingset as soon as Fordo had pulled down his seat, laughing excitedly at the prospect of play. The others followed slower and silently, keeping an amused watch at her play. There was an old gangway out into the pond that they made comfortable on and sat to talk.

The lazy autumn sun cast over them and lit up the browning grass with soft, golden hues. Several wayward ducks floated across the water, threatening passing minnows and casting disapproving glances at the nearby humans. Mika went up and down the playground: through tires and across bars, checking often that her keepers were watching.

"She looks so happy."

"Of course," replied Hiro. "She loves this place."

"Doesn't she ever get lonely, playin' alone like that?"

A shrug replied. "Not that I know. I think she's used to it."

"How do you mean?"

"That's how she's played her whole life."

"Really?" She nodded. "Why? Didn't she have friends her own age back home?"

"No. Back 'home' no one wanted to play with her."

"But why?"

"No one played with Jews." He turned to her. "No, she didn't understand that was why. That's something I figured out."

"But-"

"Why don't you just ask about it directly instead of guessing at things you all-ready know?" She looked at him directly and with slight cynicism. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. I do."

"Fine then." She prepared for what looked like a rather lengthy explanation. "Mika grew up near the Black Forest. A really small Catholic town. I don't even know why her grandparents went there, so don't ask. Her grandad died, from old age or plain bad luck, could be either, while her mum was about seventeen. So there they were: two women in a patriarchal community that refuses to give them any assistance. Her gran couldn't've gotten much of a job anywhere, she hadn't good enough health. Her mum was stronger and smarter and knew what she'd have to do, even though it wasn't too brilliant. So she started going into town at nights to do some independent labour."

"I thought Catholicism was against premarital intercourse."

"Fordo, honestly. When the girl's young and pretty and willing, who's to say no?"

"Point taken."

"Anyway, she had pretty steady work. Somehow she convinced her customers to cover up and her mother that she was working the grave shift at something fairly respectable. No one said anything and there was bread on the table. That was enough.

"One night, though, something happened. I don't know how or why, but he wasn't safe and she didn't know. But she was sick all the time and there didn't seem to be a cure. And her monthly was late and she couldn't sleep."

"Did she tell her mother?"

"She did. Of course she was ashamed and couldn't understand why her only child was doing something so disgraceful, but that wasn't important. Mika's gran started working as much as she could while taking care of her daughter, doing laundry and such. Eventually Mika came, looking for all the world like her dad, whoever he was."

"She doesn't know?"

"Her mum died in childbirth and wouldn't ever tell."

"Why?"

Hiroko shrugged. "Maybe she was scared or maybe she didn't know. It's a mystery, anyhow. After that, though, they were alone. Her gran was always working and none of the mothers wanted their children hanging 'round with a Jewish bastard, let alone one with nubs on her back. Her wings didn't grow in up until she was six or so." She took a deep breath and looked longingly at the child on the swings. She had shed the big coat she so often wore and her wings fluttered at the effort of pumping. "You must understand, Fordo-san." Her eyes filled with sadness and she turned back to Fordo. "Mika loved her grandmother more'n anything; still does. She died almost three years ago and I still hear her crying sometimes when it's late at night and the stars are dark. Mika took everything she ever taught her to heart. Maybe that's why she's so devout. Or maybe it's because, after her gran died, God was her only playmate and the only person who seemed to give a shite about whether or not she survived. Who knows? I just figure that someone gave her something that made her strong and kept her happy. And I'm glad, even if I'll never know who."

*

That night, Fordo lay awake for a long time, thinking about what Hiroko had said. He didn't know what to think about anything; not God or himself or life. Making sure everyone was quiet and asleep, he climbed out of bed and down the hall to Mika's room. The door complained softly as he pushed it open, but no one stirred and he felt safe to creep inside. She lay on her belly, facing the window, her wings wrapping around her like a bird. The moon outside glimmered in her golden hair and across her face, caressing the soft, secret smile that played upon her lips. His heart warmed and his worry faded suddenly at the vision of this little child in something safe, though he hadn't any idea what that might be.

Bending down, he kissed her head and pulled up the covers a might closer. Then her left for his own bed, falling asleep fast and with an odd comfort unsurpassed by anything for a long time.

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New chapter. Happy Chanukah. Hah. Chanukah in July. That's rich. *chuckles to self since no one is joining her*

Doves!
Kirily Wood