Fire Fluffs and Enemies


Kimiko drags herself into the bathroom by morning. Her body aches under the hot spray of the shower. When her alarm rings she reluctantly gets out and starts getting ready for a new school day.

Achy but satisfied Kimiko chooses her black uniform today, hoping her dark eye shadow (with flecks of gold) and eyeliner would help conceal the dark bags under her eyes.

She wears no lipstick and ties her hair up into a messy ponytail.

Downstairs she munches on some toast. When Keiko comes down for breakfast she freezes. "You went to that club didn't you?"

"Keiko." Kimiko whines

"Kimiko! You said you'd stop trying to get in trouble." Keiko's voice is stern.

"I didn't. There was no trouble. I went, I danced, I came back. I-I didn't even drink."

"Right, but you spent most of the night at that club. I know you don't get up this early." Keiko is whisking some eggs furiously. "And if you do, you are so not ready by now." She starts chopping fruit, slamming the knife down harder than necessary.

"Kei-Kei, I'll be fine. Look coffee, I'll drink some coffee, and I'll be fine."

Their conversation is ended by Yamamoto's arrival.

Of course she's dozing by 3rd period. Her pencil poised over the paper while she drools into her textbook.

The bell rings and she shuffles over to her next class, hoping to sleep.

The place she's in looks more like a training dojo than a gymnasium although it's almost as large. The place smells of incense. The sounds of the school vanish as she closes the heavy wooden door.

She steps through another pair of doors, wondering what she was meant to do in this class. The place she steps into is filled with scrolls, all neatly arranged and free of dust. As she moves to pick up one, a voice cries out "Not one step more Mister. I just organized everything."

Kimiko looks around. "Who said that?"

A serpent slithers up the scroll case. It has red tufts of hair and two arm-like appendages.

"Dojo Kanojo Cho, Dragon Guardian of the Xiaolin Scrolls." He puffs himself up.

Kimiko looks him up and down; he was a small dragon, looking more like a mutated gecko. She mentally shrugs, probably not good to bring it up. "Oh. So are you going to be my teacher? Will I have to read some of these?" she's itching to know exactly what was in them.

"Oh no no no no no. I'm not your teacher. But you might have to read some of these." Dojo moves over to another shelf muttering to himself. He comes back up with a scroll. "Here you go. I know for a fact you'll need this is one. Be careful, it's an old one."

Gingerly Kimiko takes it from his small hands. She places it carefully in her bag. Looking around she voices a thought, "Hey have you thought about scanning some of these? If they're so delicate it'd be nice to preserve them with technology."

Dojo shakes his head. "Too dangerous. Can't have these falling into the wrong hands."

"Oh ok." She sighs disappointedly. "I should probably get to class." She takes a few steps backwards just as the door opens, it narrowly avoids hitting her.

"Mr. Tohomiko."

Kimiko looks up. It's the guy she's bumped into twice. She wonders if he recognizes her.

"Hi… you."

"Come. Time is short."

Kimiko refrains from saying, so are your sentences, just barely. Instead says goodbye to Dojo. "See you around, Dojo."

"Back at you kid. Good luck."

The atmosphere back in the training dojo has suddenly changed. Now everything seemed tense and cold. This time she couldn't stop herself. "Ice Prince, I named you well, you can just feel the chill in the air."

His stoic face remains unchanged.

Kimiko stares back at him. She frowns. He had armor on now. The chest piece was green and black, with thick bronze outlines. His armor extended down his legs like a skirt cut into four pieces and ending above the knee. The sash tied around his waist was in red. He had arm and leg plates strapped to his limbs, all of them bronze with red edges. He had his normal school shoes on.

"Errr why do you have that armor on?"

"Mr. Tohomiko I am here to teach you how to control your dragon power. You have long been without proper guidance, wasting your talents on frivols pursuits. With time and discipline I hope to show you a better use for your gift."

Kimiko nearly bursts out laughing. "I know how to control it just fine. See." Her hand bursts into flames. "I can even do tricks." She juggles her fire.

Mr. Ice Prince holds out his hand and suddenly her flames jump into his palm.

"Yeah nice, but I can always make more." She fires up her hand again only to have it immediately jump into his outstretched hand.

Kimiko stares dumbfounded as he manipulates any fires she tries to start. He makes some shapes and makes them do little tricks. They move up and down his arms. Curious, Kimiko suddenly throws a blue fireball, the hottest she can make her fire. He catches it with ease. The little shapes are still on his other arm. They're joined by the blue flame shapes.

There's hint of a smile on his face.

She smiles. "So are you a Dragon of Fire too?"

The flames go out, Kimiko's a little sad.

"No, I have the ability to manipulate all the elements."

"Overachiever huh? My sister would like you."

Mr. Ice Prince's jaw tightens, "I'm sure…"

"So when can I start learning?"

In response Mr. Ice Prince's face splits into a wicked grin. She takes a slight step back, her heart beating faster. She's suddenly very nervous.


Kimiko wondered how a class about controlling the elements could be made boring. Chase Young—Mr. Ice Prince's given name— had found a way. Instead of actually doing anything with their elements Kimiko's forced to do pushups, balancing acts, stretches; basically what you're first forced to do in any normal gym class.

When Kimiko brings up this point, Ice Prince responds, "You must first master your mind and body. Then you can start mastering the supernatural."

As far as she's concerned, she's already mastered her body. She wiggles on her seat cushion, trying to find a comfortable position for her achy butt. Meditation was not her thing. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to be doing by just sitting and not thinking.

"Control your breathing Tohomiko."

Kimiko refrains from sighing.

"Stand up."

She obliges, standing up and facing him. "Read the section in your scroll on meditation. I expect you to be able to answer any questions I may ask. You have until next Friday"

She stifles a groan and nods.

"Dismissed."

Kimiko quickly changes from her sparring gear to her school uniform. She comes out as Young is removing pieces of his armor and arranging them in a cabinet. He still had on loose black pants and a tight fitting turtle neck. Kimiko's eyes are immediately drawn to the muscles on his arms and back. His shoulders are wide and powerful curving down into a toned torso and a trim waist.

From what she'd seen, Young was shorter than most guys, but he filled out a lot better than any of them. Not that you'd ever see it under the concealing uniforms the guys had to wear.

"Something interesting, Tohomiko?"

Caught leering, she coughs, "no." then marches off in a random direction.

Skipping the lunchroom Kimiko heads for Guan's office. She stops and listens at the door, checking to see if anyone was inside. Satisfied she slips an envelope into the slot on the door. She almost skips off to enjoy the remainder of her lunchtime when she spots Pedrosa around the corner.

Weighing her options she screws up her courage and runs after him. She catches up to him and walks in step with him. "Hey."

He looks over at her, grunts in response and starts walking much faster.

"Fine, I was going to offer an apology but I see you rather be an asshole." Kimiko shrugs in the same way she'd seen other guys do it. Confidently she walks away.

"Apology accepted."

Kimiko looks over her shoulder. "Aaaaand?"

"Sorry about the," he gestures to his face, "I just thought you were a creep like Spicer. He wears makeup, acts all girly, and I always catch him trying to look into the girls' bathroom."

She scowls at Pedrosa's assumption. There was just so much wrong there. "You know this doesn't mean we're friends."

He nods and walks away.

She breathes a sigh of relief. Well, Keiko would be so proud of her.


It's the weekend and Kimiko wants to party. She's reading upside-down trying to concentrate on the scroll but honestly she wants to be moving around. Her feet wiggle around on her bed tracing imaginary steps. Finally unable to bear it any longer she sets aside her scroll and marches off into her closet.

She comes out wearing baggy dark blue pants with more pockets than any one person could ever use, a black stretched retro tee hanging off her shoulders, over a blue tank top. She fashions her hair into two spiked ponytails each with varying shades of blue. The mask she puts on looks like its fusing with her skin.

She finishes up by putting on an electric blue lipstick.

Keiko doesn't say much; too busy penciling in notes in her books. She looks up from her work when Kimiko is putting on a blue leather jacket.

"Where are you headed off to?" there's no accusation in her tone just curiosity.

"That club." She responds.

"Oh, how is it?" Keiko was in the process of putting away her school supplies.

"Crazy fun." Kimiko starts messing around with her hair.

"What's it called?"

Kimiko stops fake-arranging her hair. She looks up thoughtfully. "Some unpronounceable Chinese name."

"I'm sure its pronounceable." Keiko scoffs daintily.

"You can come if you want." Kimiko's a little tired of Keiko tiptoeing―metaphorically―around the obvious.

Keiko smiles then rushes off to get her outfit together.

When they're standing in front of the club, waiting to be let in, Keiko takes one look at the sign and giggles. After her laughter subsides she pronounces the name almost perfectly, "Huángdì dòu, it means Emperor Bean."

Kimiko scrunches up her face "Who would name a club that!"


He gets a better look at her this time. She's on his camera, staring straight at it with her big brown eyes. He clicks rewind and plays the footage again. He takes her in from every angle. The shape of her face. Her lips. Her eyes. Even her fucking nose. He rewinds, again. She's staring at the camera, again. It's like her ghost is smiling at him, taunting him with her victory.

The Shen Gon Wu were gone, she won.

The scroll was gone, she won.

Her brats lived, she won.

Sparks fly as the monitor hits the floor.

He quells his rage, now was not the time for anger, first vengeance.