Sakaki Shio, Humble Beginnings

On the main island of Okinawa, on a lonesome beach shore, there sat the house of an old man, encircled by a wooden fence with high walls. Just peeking above the walls was the roof to what everyone knew was a Karate dojo, where long ago the old man taught many students in the way of Karate. Today, the dojo was oddly silent, though not completely devoid of live. Sitting at a short table in the master's main house, his legs folded underneath him in traditional Japanese style, facing a much older and graver looking man, the young Sakaki Shio, with burgeoning brown eyes and ecstatic black hair, smirked devilishly at his gentry acquaintance. Dressed in a bleached Karate gi, wearing a soiled white belt, Shio triumphantly stated, "I will become the 100th Degree Street Fighter!"

His elderly compatriot, a wise man with a short white hair and a graying beard looked upon his disciple with a little more than just irritation. This man had seen the rise and fall of many good young men, both capable and otherwise in the way of Karate. This man's wrinkled face and weary eyes conveyed a tinge of warmth beneath the stern disdain he tried to convey to his student. "Shio…" He grumbled as he pursued his lips in mild discontent, his right hand and body lifting up from his seated position all in one fluid smooth motion.

THWACK!

Much time had passed, a thick and heavy darkness had surrounded him and held him captive in his own vessel. Shio awoke, finally rousing himself and opening his eyes to the dojo, his body propped up against the eastern wall, the smell of sweat and tatami laced the floor. To his left, he saw the kamidana, the "God Shelf" on the Shomen, the ritualistic alter of the Karate dojo. Candles and a miniscule amount of daylight illuminated the otherwise dark and mysterious-looking training hall.

Shaking his head, Shio's world had been spinning for what seemed to be hours, a hot soft spot on his brow confirmed his assumptions, Sensei had put the brakes on him. Trembling with the agony of pain echoing through his head, Shio proceeded to stand up and move his body into the center of the dojo, bowing and beginning the salutation to the kata Sanchin. Flaring the balls of his feet out and drawing his hands back to his hips with a strong motion, his body imitated as if a dense weight had fallen on every inch of him. Flaring his heels out, Shio brought his arms down, or rather, they had fallen into place, in front of his thighs, settling down into the heavy stance of Sanchin, he exhaled, his stomach muscles pushing out and down, as he settled his shoulder blades into place.

His eyes became like immoveable diamonds, fixated on his opponent, every muscle seemed to move in time to his breathing, inhaling and exhaling, contracting and relaxing. From outside the training hall, Shio's sensei watched in absolute silence with the same affection a father would his son. His disciple's training was the finest he had witnessed in a long time, if only he could reign in Sakaki's wild and intense emotions as well.

Hours had passed and the sun had set. Night enshrouded the sky and a lone girl rode up to the dojo on a motorcycle. Sensei had just finished tuning Sakaki's technique during the kata Tensho when he said, "I guess that'll be enough for today..."

The sweating and heavily breathing Sakaki wiped down the sweat from his body with a dry rag, his white gi draped across the back of his legs, his obi holding it in place against his body. "O-Sensei, thank you very much for training me today…" Sakaki said, bowing to his master.

"You are very powerful Shio, very strong. But you cannot go around using your Karate to harm others. That is not why I teach you Karate. Understand?" The stern look had returned to his master's eyes. Despite his advanced years, Shio's master still had a physique which would put any twenty-something to shame, Sakaki looked to his teacher as the pinnacle of Karate.

"Excuse me, is Shio done yet?" A feminine voice called from the entrance to the dojo. O-Sensei smirked as he let out a snort, "Yes, Ms. Sakaki, your brother's training has finished for the day." Stepping to just outside the training hall, Shio's sister stood, wearing tight black leather pants and a tight black halter top, her dark-skin and long black hair tied neatly back.

"Sis, you're not allowed to shout in the dojo! This is a sacred place!" Shio exclaimed loudly, furrowing his brow and clenching his fists.

"Shio, calm down. Your sister is not a disciple here and thus is not expected to act as disciplined as I expect you to act!" Shio's master replied rather coldly, much to Shio's sister's amusement.

"Are you ready to go yet?" She asked impatiently staring at her brother, still wearing his Karate gi.

Sulking, Shio ran to the back of the dojo, disrobed and changed into his street clothes, a simple pair of dusty tattered blue jeans and a white tank top covered with dirt, his darkened skin clashing with the light-color of his attire, he glared at his sister with much contempt. His gi wrapped up in his obi and slung over his shoulder, he walked out of the dojo, thanking his master yet again, and hopping on the back of his sister's motorcycle, still brooding.

"You got into another fight at school today, I hear." His sister chided him reproachfully, "Shio, you're not going to be studying Karate anymore if you keep fighting kids at school." Her voice became as cold as ice as she started the ignition and throttled the peddle before accelerating down the darkened dirt path from the dojo.

Once they arrived home to the broken and battered tenement they called home, Shio immediately jumped off of the bike and stomped his way inside, his body hunched over as he fumed. Behind him, his sister watched her brother with softened eyes, the only thing the separated him from all of the other poor children in the village was Karate, and it was both a boon and a curse as it gave him something that Shio could call his own, where the others had parents to rear them, she was all Shio had, and her own youth prevented her from giving Shio a modicum of normalcy. Entering the house, she looked at Shio's tattered shoes, thrown against the wall, the side of her lips curled but then softened. She looked about their tiny battered home, a one room living quarter with false walls separating their shared bedroom. She could hear her brother's quiet sobbing from their bedroom. There wasn't much she could do for him at this point, he was upset and his pride was hurt. She sighed as she took the few steps into their kitchen-living room-dining room and sat down at their small table as she began filling a small chipped faded white bowl with cooked rice, her hands delicately holding the quickly warming ceramic as she placed it on the table where Shio normally sat.

"Shio, it's time for dinner." She said, her voice echoing through the house.

His quiet sobbing briefly stopped, she knew he was deliberating on whether or not to come eat, "I'm not hungry…" He replied.

She sighed again, before slightly grinning, "I'll let you have one cup of sake if you come eat."

And that's all it took.