In hindsight, Dojo's assurance that finding the Dragon of Earth would be easy had been absolutely correct. Although convincing Mr. Bailey to let his favorite son leave the ranch had been quite the challenge, at least Master Fung had managed to select the right candidate within minutes.

Finding the Dragon of Fire within Japan's most populated city proved to be a whole other matter.

"Don't give me that look!" Dojo pouted under the elder's glare and scooted back into his sleeve. "All I do is track down the source of magic; it's your job to narrow it down to one kid! It's just like Shen Gong Wu hunting—I find the hunting ground, and you do the hunting!"

Master Fung shook his head, sighed, and began the trek through downtown. After several hours of what Dojo called "aimless wandering" and Master Fung stubbornly called "questing," he finally came to a stop in the same intersection where he started. He frowned at the Tohomiko Electronics skyscraper overviewing the street. He had perused all the nearby parks and schools, but nothing had stood out to him in quite the same way as this building.

"Perhaps an employee…?" he murmured.

"Not likely," Dojo said. "Xiaolin Dragons function best when they're all around the same age. Helps the dynamic." At the elder's blank stare, he clarified, "You're looking for a kid. Maaaaaybe a teen." His ears flicked upward, and he pointed at the skyscraper's glass doors. "Hey, speaking of which!"

A silver flying saucer burst from the double doors of Tohomiko Electronics, pursued by a short, bespectacled man clutching a little gray box. Master Fung sighed. "That's not a child, Dojo. That's an adult."

Dojo, who always had trouble recognizing the difference between child humans and very small adult humans, blinked and frowned. "Are you sure?" Then at the sound of buzzing, the dragon yelped and ducked into the elder's sleeves. The saucer careened toward Master Fung, who lashed out a hand and caught it before it could collide with his skull.

Blinking down at the strange metallic device for a moment, he held it out for the man, who rushed toward them and babbled, "I am terribly sorry! My UFO-bot is supposed to avoid hitting players—must be malfunctioning—broke out and—terribly sorry! It nearly hit you!"

"What is it?" Master Fung asked, handing over the buzzing device.

The man fidgeted with its underside until it went silent. "My newest toy, just a prototype—kids love aliens, thought I could implement that into my new video game—my daughter thinks it's silly, zombies and aliens in one game, perhaps I should reconsider…"

Master Fung only understood about half of what the man had said, but he was not about to admit it. "Your game?" He glanced up at the building. "Are you…?"

The man bowed. "Toshiro Tohomiko. So nice to meet you! Again, terribly sorry for my carelessness; I would be happy to treat you to lunch as my apology!"

"That will not be necessary; no one was hurt—"

Master Fung's words cut off when Dojo elbowed him in the ribs underneath his robes. The dragon whispered, "Daughter! He said he has a daughter!"

Though Master Fung suspected that Dojo was far more interested in the prospect of free food than in meeting the hypothetical daughter, he did not argue. To Toshiro, he said, "Ah, though if you insist, I will humbly accept your offer. Perhaps you could tell me more about these… video games of yours?"

During the stroll to the nearby restaurant, Toshiro showed endless enthusiasm explaining video games to Master Fung. As the man gushed about the growing popularity of something called the "internet," the elder couldn't help but notice that Toshiro's energy and optimism reminded him of Omi, and he wondered if maybe the Dragon of Fire could be an adult after all.

After the two selected a table with three seats, Toshiro asked, "What brings you to Tokyo? Were you touring the city?"

Master Fung glanced around the restaurant for any children or teenagers before answering. "I am seeking out a student to become the next Xiaolin Dragon." When Toshiro tilted his head, he folded his hands and added, "I am Master Fung, a teacher at the Xiaolin Temple. We protect the balance between the Xiaolin side and the Heylin side- good and evil, essentially. We elders predicted that the balance is about to shift, and Dojo selected me to seek out future students and help them rise to their destiny."

He paused to gauge Toshiro's reaction, waiting for the same disbelief that Mr. Bailey had given him. Instead, Toshiro seemed puzzled but intrigued. "Really? And what makes someone qualified to become a, uh, Xiaolin Dragon?"

Before Master Fung could answer, a collage of bright colors to his left caught his eye, and he turned his head. A girl in a pink wig stared back at him, barely concealing a confused frown and clutching a strange, rectangular device. After dropping it into her neon green purse and granting Master Fung a once-over, she said to Toshiro, "Um, Papa, if you had a business meeting today, you could have given me an FYI."

Toshiro's eyes lit up, and he jumped to his feet. "Kimiko! This is Fung-san—er, Master Fung, a teacher at the Xiaolin temple. I invited him to join us for our lunch. Master Fung, this is my daughter, Kimiko!"

The surprise dulled to disappointment as Kimiko's eyes started to glaze over. "Uh-huh." Her hand reached back into her purse to pull out the little device, and while she typed on it, she muttered, "So, is this a PR thing or…?"

Leading his daughter to her seat, Mr. Tohomiko shook his head, beaming and oblivious to her dimming mood. "No, no, this is not a business meeting. Master Fung has been telling me about the Xiaolin temple, a school for elite students who protect the balance between good and evil. It is quite fascinating!"

"Sounds like it," Kimiko said, even though she sounded anything but enthused. Under her father's gaze, she sighed, dropped her device back into her purse, and gave the two men a bored, forced smile.

Master Fung's shoulders sank a bit. The girl was almost as short as her father and even thinner, certainly not the image of a sturdy Xiaolin Warrior. And though the elder certainly knew better than to judge someone by their appearance, her attitude was certainly not helping the first impression.

"Ah, yes," he said, lifting his chin a bit, "as I was saying to your father, the Xiaolin temple hosts a group of Chosen Ones every few centuries or so, whenever the Heylin side runs rampant. The Chosen Ones each wield an element, such as earth, water, fire…"

Kimiko's eyes started to wander, and her vacant expression turned into a dull frown.

Master Fung's mouth pressed into a thin line, but he stubbornly continued, "The main mission of the Xiaolin Dragons is to keep evil at bay, most commonly by preventing them from obtaining the Shen Gong Wu—"

A booming crash behind him made him turn. At the other end of the restaurant where Kimiko had been staring, a man in a business suit stood high over a cowering waitress and bellowed, "Do you have any idea who I am?! I've been waiting hours for my food, and you haven't even gotten my drink yet!"

Though the sudden commotion caught the attention of every person in the building, the other patrons shrank in their seats and looked away, pretending not to notice. The waitress stammered, "I'm t-terribly sorry, sir, I'm not your server, but I can go find her— we're just very busy, sir—"

"Do you know how much time I've wasted waiting for you lazy kids to do your job?" The man lurched toward the girl, who stumbled against an empty chair. "Get me your boss! I'll have you fired!"

"Oh dear," Toshiro murmured, hunching his shoulders and grimacing apologetically at Master Fung. "Perhaps it would be best if we had lunch somewhere quieter—"

"I'm so sorry, sir," the waitress whimpered. "We will gladly get your food out for you immediately, sir, terribly sorry—"

"Your little 'sorrys' aren't going to make things better! I make more money every day than you do in a year! I could shut down this entire building with a snap of my fingers for your pathetic—"

A glass cup sailed across the room and slammed into the back of the man's head. As glass and tea showered onto his shoulder pads, he whirled around, eyes bulging and toupee slipping. Kimiko stood on a table and glared right back at him, another glass in hand. Pointing at him, she shouted, "You've only been here a couple minutes, you lying pig! I watched you sit down!"

The other customers sank down further into their seats. The waitress fled into the back rooms. Nearly knocking over another table, the man slammed his foot into the ground like an enraged bull. "This is none of your business, little girl! Know your place!"

"I'll know my place when you learn some freaking manners!" Kimiko threw the other glass, and it smashed against the man's arm.

"Kimiko!" Toshiro gasped. The suited man charged across the room, and Master Fung rushed forward to intervene, but Kimiko was faster. Leaping from the table and bracing her legs on the floor, she caught the man's fist. In a single, swift movement, she flung his enormous body over her and brought him to a booming crash onto the floor.

Dusting off her frilled blouse, she slung her purse over her shoulder. "Honestly," she said with a toss of her hair, "some people are so spoiled."

"Little brat—" The man heaved himself to his feet, and Kimiko raised her fists with a smirk, but before either could lash out again, Toshiro stepped between them.

"That's enough." His voice was nearly a snarl while he glared up at the much larger man. "You will keep your hands off my daughter."

Kimiko's grin fell. "Papa, I've got this."

The suited man's entire demeanor shriveled in an instant. "Tohomiko-san! Th-this is your daughter?"

Toshiro pushed his glasses higher onto his nose. "I believe an apology is in order, isn't it? Perhaps from you this time, and not that poor little waitress?"

"Papa, I had it…" Kimiko's shoulders sank while she watched her previously furious opponent drop to his knees in fear of her father, babbling apologies to everyone in the building. Scuffing one of her glittering shoes against the carpet, she crossed her arms, wandered back to her table, and dropped back into her chair with a pout. "I didn't need help," she muttered.

"That much was clear," said Master Fung, sitting back down at her side and folding his hands in his lap. "Though your strategy was certainly… more chaotic than necessary, your intentions were quite noble."

"Thanks," she grumbled. Sitting up straighter, her hands flailed in a helpless gesture. "I just— I know Papa was trying to help, but I don't need him to save me, you know? I can take care of myself! But with Papa being all rich and important and stuff, it's like… All I'm ever going to be is 'Toshiro Tohomiko's daughter.'" She sagged in her seat. "I just want to be 'Kimiko.'" Face flushing, she brought a hand to her mouth and looked back up at Master Fung. "S-sorry, that was a little TMI— I mean, I don't even know you—"

"That's quite alright." Master Fung rested his folded hands on the table, leaving room for Dojo to slither out of his sleeve. While the girl gasped, the dragon studied her for a moment, drummed a claw on his chin, and nodded in approval. Master Fung gave the Chosen One a fond smile and said, "Kimiko, if you are interested, I might have a solution to your problem."

Author's notes:

I struggled a bit with this chapter since I had to balance "did my research on Japan" with "not stereotyping people in Japan." Their culture puts a big emphasis on politeness, so it might seem a bit odd to have a random dude throwing a hissy fit in a public place, but 1) since service employees are supposed to treat patrons like they're always right, I wouldn't be at all surprised if some people took advantage of it, and 2) if nothing else, you can assume he's a foreigner.

Fun fact: I work retail, and I once had a fifty-year-old man threaten to call my district manager... because someone else got to my register before he did, and apparently that was my fault. I've also had at least three customers fuss at me because an (imaginary) item was not in my store. Though I've never worked in a restaurant, I'm absolutely certain that yelling at a waitress for equally stupid reasons is a depressingly common occurrence.