There was a bell over the door that tinkled softly as Marisha and I entered the dojo. The interior was plain but elegant in a way, I thought. It was also packed, with about forty people in attendance. Most seemed to be some parents and outsiders ranged along the walls, and the dojo’s students, identifiable by their matching uniforms, all sat cross-legged at the edge of a giant mat.

Two people stood in the center of the mat, in combat positions. One was obviously a student of the dojo, while the other wore simple black sweatpants and a black tank top. The student had a broad black belt tied around his waist and stood easily balanced on the balls of his feet. The guest was a little less confident in his stance, but he still charged nonetheless.

The guest swung his fist back and out, trying to punch the black-belt, but the other was too fast for him. He latched onto the kid’s wrist and stepped in, cramping him for space. Then he made one quick mock-punch to his stomach, flipped him over his hip and onto the ground, and made another mock-punch to his face, stopping a few inches short of actual contact.

Everyone in the dojo applauded, and we joined in. I couldn’t help but be a little impressed by the student’s grace and balance, not to mention his blinding speed. If he was a Reaper, I’d be terrified of him, I thought. The challenger guest got to his feet and bowed deeply, the gesture mimicked by the student. I noticed that he didn’t seem gloating or supercilious about his victory, which made me like him more.

“Ten-minute break!” The instructor called. “Have a drink while I welcome our guests.”

He walked over to Marisha and me, a welcoming smile on his face. When he drew within easy speaking distance, he gave us a deep bow, as if we were visiting royalty. He had high cheekbones and narrow eyes, typical of an oriental person. We instinctively returned the bow, but I suspected we were a lot less graceful than he was.

“Welcome to Issho-Ni Dojo,” he said, spreading his arms wide as if inviting us to take in the sparse decor. “I am honored that you came to visit us for our presentation.”

“Sensei,” another voice, the black-belt I’d watched, had come up. “Shall I retrieve the shinai for the next demonstration?”

“My best pupil,” The instructor said in the introduction. “Richard, these are..”

He paused, and we introduced ourselves with little bobs of the head. “Marisha.”

“Silas,” I said. “Nice to meet you, Richard.”

“Please call me Rick,” he said with a grin. “So, Sensei. The Shinai?”

“Perhaps later, Richard-kun,” the instructor replied. “Perhaps our guests would like to try their hand?”

I would have expected Marisha to volunteer first, but for once she was keeping uncharacteristically quiet. Rick seemed to look to me, his eyes full of curiosity. Alright then, I thought. I’m not one to back down from a challenge, even if I’ll get my ass kicked.

“I’ll give it a try,” I said. “What’s the plan?”

“Do you have any experience with martial arts, Silas-san?” The instructor asked me. “Perhaps some karate?”

Does training to be an elite spirit killer count? I thought. “Nope. Just some wrestling.”

“Don’t worry,” Rick said, still smiling. “It’s just a demonstration. I won’t hurt you.”

For some reason, that ticked me off. I didn’t mind the idea of failure, but I certainly didn’t appreciate someone lording their advantage over me. I took my long coat off and hung it on a nearby peg by the entrance, then stretched my arms. Rick caught the action and smiled wider.

“Fall in!” The instructor called in a stern voice. “We have a new demonstration.” 

The students of the dojo immediately moved back into their positions, sitting cross-legged on the outer rim of the large mat. Rick slipped between them and stood ready, taking up one half of the inner circle. Taking a moment to slip my socks and shoes off, I followed him. It was a distinctly different feeling being on the inside of the circle. Every eye was upon me as they looked me up and down, sizing me up.

“Ready when you are,” I told Rick, getting into the unarmed stance that Master Ivan had taught me.

Rick got into his stance, his feet spread wide, and one arm extended, palm inwards, to me. His other hand was near his waist, held in the same peculiar fashion. His form was top-notch, as I’d noted earlier. Despite his dirty blonde hair and green eyes, he looked like a real martial arts expert to me.

“Jiyyu Kumite,” The instructor said, holding one hand up. “Free sparring. Hajime!”

As soon as the instructor put his hand down, Rick slid forward one step. He moved so fast I flinched, and inadvertently took two steps back. Then I immediately felt ashamed of myself and took two more steps forward. Rick wasn’t attacking me, seemingly waiting for me to make the first move. So I aimed one kick at his forward leg, trying to knock his knee out.

Rick responded by anchoring that leg, and, as soon as I was off-balance with my own kick, he swung forward with a kick of his own that swept my legs out from under me. I hit the mat hard enough to drive the air from my lungs, and at once, I felt his knee on my back. Then there was clapping, which meant he’d performed one of those mock strikes at the back of my head. Yep, I was off to a great start.

I clambered back to my feet, rubbing my ribs. Good thing the floor was padded, otherwise I’d have a nasty bruise there for a while. Getting back into my stance, I waited for the call to begin, then tried again. This time, I aimed a little higher, at his side, but he was ready for that too. He grabbed my own leg mid-kick and yanked it forward, pulling me into a throw much like he’d done the other guy. I hit the ground with him still holding my leg, and his fist an inch from my face.

Zero for two. I wasn’t exactly pleased with myself at that point, but I got back into my stance all the same. Now, as the instructor gave the call to begin, I didn’t move at once but waited for Rick to make the first attack. He took a minute, but finally slithered forward and aimed a kick at me. It was like time slowed down just enough for me, that I was able to follow the movement of his foot. My body’s reflexes were another thing, however, and I was only able to block just in time.

“Good block,” he said. “You might just be a natural at this.”

He started forward again, starting with a straight right punch to my chest. I deflected it away, and he raised his leg to kick me again. This time I was ready. The attack almost seemed to come in slow motion, with how finely-tuned my senses were. I grabbed his own leg as he’d done to me, and tried to pull him forward and off-balance. Two main problems with that. One, he’d obviously wanted me to do that, and was ready for it. Two, I did it very poorly. My fingers got wrenched as moved to counter my counter, and I felt a distinct crack in two of my fingers.

The rest was a whirl, and I wasn’t entirely sure what happened, but when my vision cleared, I was once more on the ground. But this time, he wasn’t standing over me, his knuckles held to my nose to indicate victory. He was prone too, laying a few feet away from me. We both struggled to our feet to try to resume the fight, but the instructor interrupted us.

“Yame!” He called sharply. “Stop!”

I let my hands drop and stood still, breathing heavily. My shirt was stretched at the collar, and Rick’s uniform was loose like we’d grabbed each other at some point. Ignoring the adrenaline surging through my body, I bowed politely. Rick returned the gesture, and the students around us clapped again. Some of them muttered quietly to each other as I left the mat, returning to my coat.

“That was a good show, Silas-san,” the instructor said. “You have some talent for this. I do hope you’ll consider taking lessons from me.”

“Uhh,” I said, looking to Marisha for a clue as to how to proceed. “Maybe when I’m settled in with college.”

He offered me an understanding smile. He didn’t seem offended at all. “Very well. When you have decided your purpose in life, we will consider.”

I couldn’t help but think, as the door closed behind us and we set off back to the Nook Inn, that he somehow knew about the Reaper Clan, and my life’s most recent changes. Those eyes of his seemed to peer right through me as if he could see the Reaper inside me, and approved. It was bizarre and disconcerting, but also comforting in a strange way. Normal human aside, he had the air of wisdom about him. Kind of like Master Mikel, but less stern. And friendlier.

“You ready for the final event tomorrow?” Marisha asked me suddenly. It seemed like she’d wanted to bring it up for a while.

“Yeah,” I said, ignoring the sudden weight in my stomach. “It should be a lot of fun.”

Marisha’s expression confused me a little. She had a smile on her face, but it felt somehow forced. “Listen Silas. After the Crucible, I’ve got something to tell you.”

“That sounds ominous,” I commented, looking at her. “I feel like I’m in trouble.”

“No, no,” she said, looking like she regretted speaking up. “It’s just, you might want a slightly different purpose than what most Reapers do.”

Looking back on that scene many years later, I should have realized at once that she was acting weird. But I’d been too nervous thinking about the upcoming final event to notice much else. Shame, really. That was the last year that I was so carefree.