Domovoi knew he was in some deep trouble when he opened his eyes and, over the shoulder of the pretty Swiss girl with whom he was currently entwined, saw a stone-faced Madame Ko watching them coldly, one hand on her hip, the other gripping the thin rattan rod that was infamous among her acolytes as her disciplinary trademark.
He froze, like a baby fawn praying for its camouflage to save it from a sniffing predator, and felt his stomach drop like lead because of course the predator had already caught him.
The girl cocked her head and smiled up at Domovoi quizzically, having not yet noticed the third party witness to their midnight rendezvous. "Fehlt ihnen etwas?" she inquired, nuzzling his shoulder.
"Marielle…" Domovoi, not once breaking eye contact with his sensei, nudged her away from him, took her by the shoulders and turned her around so she too could see the small but forbidding Japanese woman glaring at them.
Marielle jumped, edging behind a shirtless Domovoi and crossing her arms over her partially unbuttoned blouse.
Madame Ko was not amused. "Exactly what do you think you are doing?" she asked. Domovoi knew her calm voice was deceptive. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't think of any remotely plausible excuse so he closed it again and hung his head.
Marielle, who didn't understand much English, just looked nervously back and forth between the two of them until Madame Ko rounded on her in a fury. "You! Girl," she said harshly. "Go back to your home! And you stay far from this school!"
She beat the terrified girl around the legs with the cane until she got the gist of the message and, not sparing a last look at Domovoi, took off down the mountain in her stockings, nimble as a goat, forgetting her shoes behind her.
As soon as she'd disappeared into the darkness Madame Ko whipped back around to face her student. Her eyes narrowed, and Domovoi immediately overcame his petrification and sank into a low bow, hoping for mercy.
"I apologize, Sensei. My actions tonight were foolish and irresponsible," he said as humbly as he could, eyes on the ground.
Quick as a striking cobra, she brought the rod down across his shoulders.
Domovoi felt the gentle rush of wind ruffle his hair a split second before he felt the fierce sting on his back, or heard the sharp smack of rattan wood meeting flesh.
"For as long as you are enrolled in my academy, Domovoi Butler, your time belongs to me," she hissed. "And I will not tolerate you wasting my time roving the woods to have relations with whichever common village girl captures your fancy!" She struck him several more times to emphasize her point, the wood whistling as it snaked through the air. He bit his tongue until he tasted metal, but didn't flinch or make a sound as Madame Ko continued to berate him, her voice low but her words carrying more venom than if she'd shouted.
"You would think, would you not, that after six years of training I might have succeeded in instilling a measure of self-control in you. And what do you do? You sneak off in the middle of the night like some empty-headed dunce with no respect for anything you're told…"
And on it went. To someone else, the scene might have been funny: a six-and-a-half foot, well-built young man cowering before the wrath of a middle-aged five foot four Asian woman. But Domovoi didn't dare straighten from his bow until Madame Ko had finished scolding him and gave him express permission to do so. When he did stand straight he could feel something warm beginning to trickle down his back.
The Japanese woman stood silent for a few moments, but Domovoi knew better than to assume that this mild thrashing would be the end of his punishment. The Madame did not take the direct disobedience of her acolytes lightly. She could only be contemplating what more he was deserving of.
"Butler," she said finally.
"Yes, Madame?" He held his breath as he waited to hear the verdict.
"You are to run laps around the camp," she told him.
Domovoi let out a quiet sigh of relief. She wanted him to run laps? That was it? No more physical torture? No hideous load of demeaning chores? Ha! He could run laps for hours.
"Yes, Madame." He bowed to her and started to head off toward the camp's perimeter, then paused. "Forgive me, Madame, but I did not hear how many laps you wanted?"
"That is because I did not tell you. It is no matter. You are to keep going until I say otherwise."
A little confused but not about to question his orders, Domovoi bowed once more and jogged over to the camp's perimeter, where he broke out into a run.
Domovoi liked Switzerland. The earth was springy under his feet. The night air was cold, but refreshingly so, and it soothed the vicious stinging of his back.
He made sure to pace himself, and soon fell into a steady loping rhythm. When Domovoi ran like this, with a set course and no distractions but the wind in the trees and the sound of his own footfalls, he could put his body on autopilot and let his mind wander wherever it wanted to go.
He soon rounded the academy's training fields, where the students not only practiced daily but also held frequent sparring matches. He passed the sleeping tents of Madame Ko and the retired blue diamond graduates that chose to return to assist her in running the camp, and then the large tents that housed groups of students, sorted according to age, and finally he passed the spot where he'd started, where Madame Ko stood watching.
And so he ran around… and around… and around... until he passed the starting point to find that Madame Ko had returned to her tent.
A faint tinge of orange came creeping across the horizon. The camp would be stirring soon, and still Domovoi was pushing himself around the course. Each time he planted a foot on the ground he was certain that, this time, he would not be able to lift it up again.
The blood from his back had run in tiny rivulets down to the waistband of his zuban and dried there. He could feel it crack when he twisted his torso.
He was covered in a sheen of sweat, which cooled when it came into contact with the freezing predawn air and made him shiver. He wished he'd thought to put his uwagi back on, but it was still lying where he'd left it hours ago in the forest with Marielle's shoes.
Both his mind and his leg muscles screamed for rest. His knees burned from chafing against the sweat-soaked fabric. His eyelids felt made of granite, heavy and scratching when he blinked. Domovoi wondered what would happen if everyone came pouring out of their tents to find him passed out, lying facedown in the grass. Then he debated whether snagging fifteen minutes of sleep would be worth the embarrassment.
Another lap and a half later, Madame Ko emerged from her tent, looked around her, and watched his slow progress around the track he'd worn into the earth.
She strolled over before he could round the nearest corner and stepped into his path. "You may stop."
Domovoi dropped to his knees, head bowed, drawing deep breaths through his nose. He fought a battle to keep his eyes open.
Madame Ko gazed at him impassively for a minute, then caught him by the chin and forced him to look up at her. "Do you think you have learned something about sneaking out after curfew?" she asked, eyebrow raised.
"Yes, Madame," Domovoi croaked.
"Good. Go and stretch before your muscles seize up. You will be just in time to join your classmates on the morning run to the river." A small noise escaped the boy's throat, something between a groan and a sob.
Madame Ko heard it and her expression hardened. "You chose to go wandering when you could have slept. That was your decision, and you will complete the day's training as usual. We shall see if you feel up to such nonsense tonight, hm?" She left him there on the ground.
Domovoi kneeled in the dirt for quite some time before he could summon the strength to drag himself to his feet. Acolytes were beginning to trickle from their tents and assemble outside. Some of his friends looked at him curiously, wondering why he hadn't returned last night.
He trudged down the path that led to the village, fetched his uwagi from where it lay tangled in the underbrush and put it on to avoid questions from his classmates.
The sun had risen over the valley by the time Domovoi returned to camp, not high enough to be a source of warmth, but low enough to be blinding. Nearly all ninety-seven students were outside looking fully rested, stretching in preparation for their jog up the snow-capped mountaintop.
Domovoi reluctantly joined the fringe of the group and fell into his everyday routine, first loosening his stiff calf muscles. Then hamstrings. Deltoids. Rotating his ankles and his shoulders. Five minutes later he was off to the river with the rest of the pack, keeping to the middle of the runners.
He let the rushing wind clear his mind. Focused on the pounding of earth under his feet. Ignored the burning in his tendons. One foot in front of the other.
Just another long day at Madame Ko's Academy of Personal Protection.
A/N: Woot. I love Butler-at-the-Academy stories. There is a sad lack of them. Why is this? He's so cool... Anyways. I don't really have a specific plan for this collection. I think I'm just going to post my random Butler fics under this title as I'm inspired to write them. I'm already planning doing something like this for Artemis, too. So let me know how you liked the first one.
Also, Marielle's sentence means something along the lines of "what's the matter?" in German Swiss. At least I think it does. If you speak German Swiss, please inform me if I've butchered it terribly.
*Note* Changed the "Sweden" slip. ~Embarrassing~ I always mix up whether Butler trained in Sweden or Switzerland. (It's Switzerland!) Thanks to LE for catching it. x_x