A link to what Katie looks like, if you're interested (just take away the spaces) - ht tp: . tumblr 2d239c2e55298c0484f232fdad6882f1/ tumblr_ nvmm31OvcP1u3c0h1o1_1280. jpg

More notes at the bottom of the chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Three

The first and greatest victory is to conquer yourself; to be conquered by yourself is of all things most shameful and vile. - Plato

Whak!

"Again!"

Thwack!

"Again!"

Thunk!

Once more, I struck the dummy, and once more I stepped too far with my foot. My angle was wrong and the bokken struck the incorrect spot. I gritted my teeth and tried to hide a growl of frustration in my kiai, but I mustn't have done a good job, since the sensei called again from behind me:

"Yame!"

I dropped the wooden sword, falling back into a ready stance, before Sensei Asano ordered me to sit down. Disgruntled, I followed suit, crossing my legs beneath me, knowing what was going to come next.

It had been a week since I'd been suspended, and the tension at home hadn't eased up in the slightest. In fact, I was pretty sure it had gotten worse. It sure as hell didn't help when Obaasan found out I had skipped out on my last two Kendo practices (in order to catch up on homework, but did that matter to her? Nope). How did she know? I wasn't sure. Maybe the smell of my gym bag just wasn't right or something.

Either way, she had jumped me the other day, while I was doing the dishes again.

Her voice had been like a ghost jumping out to haunt me. "Mago, have you been practicing lately? Asamo-Sensei called me from the dojo - you haven't shown up in recent days."

I nearly jumped out of my socks. I had been keeping to myself at the time, and decided to do my chores at that specific time because Obaasan usually took a nap early afternoon, but clearly the old woman anticipated this, and caught me unawares. Glancing at the woman warily, fearing those beady eyes, I said, "No."

To lie was tempting, but it would be pointless. Grandmother never believed anything I said anyways. I explained myself before the woman could blow a gasket: "Because I've had a lot of homework lately, and I can't waste three hours every day swinging around a wooden sword."

"Wasting?" The old woman had spat, and I realized only too late my poor word choice. Me and my big mouth. "This is tradition! You're forsaking the family name! Unless you're telling me you don't care about what your family has done for you. What your mother did for you."

"Don't guilt me into this!" I had shot back. Of course she'd used the Mom Card, of course she did. It was one of the many ways she knew how to hurt me. "Mom made her own choice and left. She didn't do that for me. She probably hates this family more than I do."

Smack!

"Enough!" Grandmother said, withdrawing her hand. My cheek stung from the slap, but I didn't make a move to touch it. She jabbed a gnarled finger towards the door. "Go to your room, and don't come out until I say so."

I remembered wanting to yell at her. I remembered wanting to hit back. What I actually did was obey her order, stalking out with my shoulders hunched and head bowed, and all without shedding a single tear. I wasn't going to let her win a second time.

"Katie? Katie, are you listening to me?"

Asamo-Sensei's voice snapped me back to reality. I shook my head, realized the men was still on, and pulled it off, my hair going all over the place. When I looked at Sensei, he was sitting next to me, a line of concern between his brow. "Katie, are you all right?"

He was using my first name, and not any honorific, which meant this was not going to be a conversation about my technique. I averted my gaze, wishing that I hadn't been so obvious. I have a half-hearted shrug. "I guess so."

It wasn't a lie, technically, but Asamo-Sensei still looked doubtful. "Is that so? You seem distracted lately."

I could hear the unasked question in his voice, but I refused to face it. "I've had a lot of stuff on my mind. No big deal. What does this have to do with training?"

"Maybe nothing," Asamo-Sensei shrugged. He was about my mother's age, with thick dark hair and light stubble. I couldn't remember if he was married or not. I'd be surprised if he was still single. "Maybe everything. Your strikes are off, Katie, you're swinging too hard at the wrong angle. Do that enough times and you're going to break the bokken. You know that, right?"

I nodded glumly, a little peeved that he was questioning my judgment. Of course I knew that. Even a novice knew that. I've been at this for years now; I really shouldn't be this bad now.

In fact, I had done my best to hide my frustrations from Sense. I didn't need another lecture from someone who thought they knew everything. The thing is, I hated Kendo, and I hated having to come here and pretend that I didn't. Maybe Asamo had a clue of that; I didn't have any friends amongst the other students, and I didn't participate in any of the mingling before or after class. I just wanted to get in, practice, and get out without wasting any more time.

This was a little different, though. He had made me hang around after the session was done to put in extra work, mostly for the time I wasn't here the last couple times. It was frustrating, but at least I had the whole dojo to myself, and no one else but Asamo to judge me.

I thought it would be easy. Just fifteen minutes of practice before I could go home. Mom was probably waiting outside for me right now. I wondered what she was thinking at the moment.

I guess in my rush to finish things, I had lost some of my skill. Sensei was bound to notice something eventually, I guess.

"You're better than this, Katie. This is a simple mistake, but you keep repeating it, over and over. This isn't something I'd expect someone like you to make, so I have the feeling that your attentions are elsewhere. Please, tell me, what's the problem?"

"There's no problem," I said, throwing him a look over my shoulder. I just wanted to rip off these black robes and go home, but I knew that wasn't going to happen. Asamo wouldn't just let me ditch it all like that. My mother certainly wouldn't. "Like I said, I've got a lot of stuff on my mind. Important stuff."

"More important than Kendo?" he asked, but the smirk on his face said that Asamo was more amused than accusing.

"Maybe," I muttered, putting at the hems of my sleeves. Of all people, it was most difficult to be honest with Asano. I was afraid of what he'd think, what he'd say; I wanted him to think the best of me, but I also pretty sure he knew I was better than the average kiss-up. "So what if I do?"

"I just want to know," Asamo-Sensei said, his head tilting slightly at my answer. "So I can help in any way I can. I want you to do well in this class, Katie, but that's not going to happen unless you want it, too."

"I know," I said quietly, looking down at the mat, because I couldn't admit the fact that I didn't want it at all.

I had not joined the local Kendo class of my own volition. It had been Obaasan's idea, as a way for me to better connect with my heritage, or so she said. But I knew what she really wanted from me: discipline, and obedience. A healthy respect for my elders.

Yeah, good luck with that.

"Well, I'm glad you know," Asamo-Sensei said, slightly teasing, and I dared another look at him. There was a curious smile on his face, like he knew what I wasn't saying. "Whatever's more important than Kendo...it doesn't have anything to do with you causing trouble at school, has it?"

"Yeah, because it's always my fault," I muttered without thinking, then winced at my own tactlessness. I glanced at him and said quickly, "Sorry, Sensei. I don't mean to offend you."

But Asamo-Sensei just raised a hand, chuckling softly. "It's all right, Katie. I'm not trying to put you on the spot. I just want to know what's going on. Hear your side of the story."

I liked Asamo — he had kind, dark eyes and a smile that made me proud to earn. He was one of the few adults in my life I felt I could trust. But I was in such a bad mood that none of it rang true to me. I brought up my knees, hugging them and resting my chin on top. "What does it matter? Mom probably told you everything."

"Your mother is concerned about you," Asamo-Sensei said, quietly reprimanding. He gestured towards himself. "And so do I. Come on, I'm allowed to be worried about my students. Is it true you skipped our last sessions because of homework?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" Asamo had an excellent poker face, but I could see the hurt in his eyes, and it only made me feel worse. "Or your mother? I think it would've saved some trouble in the long run."

"I thought it'd be easier," I said. Easier in that I was lazy, and I didn't want to face any critical pressure from either of them. "I didn't think you'd understand."

"Katie, I am fully capable of understanding why school work is more important than your extracurriculars. Sometimes a student has to prioritize. But failing to inform me tells me that you don't consider Kendo in any way important to your life. Am I correct?"

"It wasn't my idea to join," I said, my voice a little sharper than it should've been. Obaasan had signed me up years ago, when I was only eight. I didn't have a say then, and only now I felt rebellious enough to speak against it. "It feels like a waste of time — er, no offense, Sensei."

He nodded slowly, pursing his lips as he considered my words. "Well, I have to admit, it's a little hard to hear that one of my best students actually despises the class."

I flushed, both flattered and utterly ashamed. My hatred had nothing to do with Asamo or his teaching methods; just all the stress I endured to keep up. I worked hard here because I was terrified of Obaasan's judgement. "I don't like disappointing you...but Obaasan gets angry if I don't do well."

"So its fear that guides you," Asamo-Sensei mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. I watched his expression carefully, surprised he was taking this with such nonchalance. "Well, that explains why you always seem so energized. But fear shouldn't be why you do this, Katie. A reluctant student doesn't learn the same way as one that enjoys it."

I snorted, muttering under my breath. "Obaasan doesn't know the meaning of joy."

"That is one bitter woman," Asamo remarked casually, earning a shocked look from me. No one dared bad mouth my grandmother without facing the consequences. He smiled at my reaction. "Sacrilege, I know. And she'll probably kill me for telling you this, but my devotion to my students is greater than my fear for Matsuba-sama's wrath."

Then he rested a hand on my shoulder, giving me an earnest look. "You're old enough to decide who you want to be, Katie. You might not have the right answer yet, and maybe you don't have anything planned out, but you are the only one who knows what you truly happy. If you want to quit, I'll allow it. I'll even speak to your grandmother in case she gets any funny ideas.

"But right now, Katie, your life is at a crossroads, and I think that you need to focus on order to make the best decision. And to do that, you don't need any extra distractions. So it's up to you to decide what you have to do next. Do you truly feel this way about Kendo?"

"It's the truth. I-I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for something you can't help," Asamo-Sensei said. "Just tell me something, so I don't feel like I've wasted my time all these years, too. What have you learned so far?"

I had to think about it for a moment. Asamo probably meant more than just swinging a stick at a dummy like a piñata — he probably meant, like, character-building stuff. Things that I wasn't even sure I had, but at least I had the words to: "Discipline, I think. You've taught me not to lash out, not to lose control, even...even when I want to."

I closed my eyes, still hearing the sound of Obaasan's slap. The only reason I didn't fight back was because of my training here, and knowing it was wrong to abuse any of my strength that way. "I'd say obedience, too, but I don't really care for obedience."

"Not many in your generation do," Asamo-Sensei nodded wisely, and I was glad that at least I managed this much. "It takes great strength to fight, Katie. It takes even more not to. And while you may be difficult to work with at times, I trust in your sense of right and wrong, and that hopefully in the future you can make the correct choices regarding whose lead you should follow. Be it someone else's, or yourself. Anything else?"

I smiled slightly, a little encouraged by this. "Um...respect. You taught me that respect is earned, not owed. That someone doesn't deserve it just because they're older, or smarter, or-or because they say so."

"Hm," Asamo-Sensei seemed mildly surprised by this, making a face. "Well, I can't say that was entirely intentional on my part. But I see your point. Respect means different things to different people. Be careful not to offend the wrongs ones, Katie. I doubt your grandmother will be the only opposition you'll ever face in your life."

"Psh," I huffed, tossing my head and glaring at the floor. Of course, another lesson within a lesson. Nothing I say couldn't go uncriticized. If people didn't get the respect they wanted, too bad. I wouldn't want to deal with them anyways. "Whatever."

"While I'm proud that you've learned so much Katie, remember," Asamo-Sensei went on as though he hadn't heard me. It was probably easier that way, not starting something. I happened to be very good at holding my end of an argument. "You still have a lot to learn. Not just as a student, but as a human. I learn things every day, and I find my life all the more different for it. Try not to ignore everything you think is unimportant, Katie. Just because it doesn't seem to affect you doesn't mean it won't. And try to consider what the consequences of your actions really mean. Your youth rarely protects your against the words that leave your mouth."

"Hey!" I said, snapping my head back at him, ready to complain. "That's not —"

"Oh, look, your mother's here," Asamo interrupted me without a wasted breath, looking up just as the door opened behind us. I looked around, saw Mom peeking her head in, giving the both of us a curious look. Asamo said behind me, "Don't mind us, just having one of those inspiring TV conversations, that's all."

"Your idea of 'inspiring' sucks," I said to him, then getting up and heading towards my mom before I could get any flack for that.

"Hey, kiddo," Mom greeted me with a quiet hug and a kiss to the forehead. "How'd practice go?"

"There was a lot more talking involved than usual," I said with a straight face. Mom gave me a skeptical look, so I added, "So yeah, I hated it."

"I'd be more surprised if you didn't," Mom sighed, running a hand through her hair. I realized with a flush of embarrassment and surprise that I did the same thing when I was tired; did I really copy her mannerisms like that? How did I never notice before? "Well, how about you go and change? I want to talk to Asamo for a little bit."

Well, that spoke volumes as to just how much trouble I was in. I didn't really eavesdrop on a lot of Mom's conversations with Asamo, but she shared enough with him that I knew they were talking about me more than half the time. It must be really stressful for Mom to have to look for outside guidance like this.

I wasn't sure if I should be proud of my rebellion having an effect, or ashamed that it was hurting Mom, who was the last person I wanted to overwork right now. She had enough things to deal with all ready; I didn't want her to think of me as just another burden in her life.

So I nodded silently and made my way back to the girls' changing room, collecting my bokken before disappearing into the tiled walls. I could hear Mom and Asamo's hushed conversation, muffled by the door, as I changed back into jeans and my favorite green hoodie. I didn't particularly care that I wrinkled my bogu as I stuffed them into my duffel bag. I didn't intend to use them again for a long time.

My tennis shoes were in the rack by the door, and as I made my way out, duffel bag over my shoulder, I said to the room at large, "I'll just wait for you in the car."

Mom gave me a quick okay before diving back into her conversation with Asamo, lowering her voice even more as I stuffed my feet into my shoes. They were both speaking Japanese, although I wasn't sure why, because I could still understand what they said. Maybe they just thought speaking in another language just made it more private or something.

What I heard had nothing to do with me, and I was a little disappointed. Mom was talking about some inner-office scandal at one of her jobs, and it wasn't until I was in the car did I realize she might've done that on purpose — so I couldn't overhear their talk about me.

Damn. It must be really bad if she was playing tricks on me now.

I sighed, flopping into the driver's seat and leaning my head back into the car. I only had my learner's license, so I could only drive when Mom (or, god forbid, Obaasan) was in the car, too. It didn't lessen the desire to drive off right away, though, leaving everything behind. Mom even left the car keys inside.

But I wasn't feeling particularly Bonnie-and-Clyde tonight. I had no energy left for rebellion. A week's worth of exhaustion had taken place of whatever self-righteousness I had left. I didn't want to do anything. I just wanted to close my eyes and drift off, forget the world even existed. Maybe it might forget me, too.

Then the car lit up like it was suddenly daylight. Startled, I looked up at the window, gaping at the brilliant shooting star arcing across the sky.

Whoa — that had to be the biggest one I had ever seen. The meteor was so big and bright it overtook the whole Moon.

As it continued to sail across the black sky, I frowned. Was it just me, or was that thing getting awfully close —

BOOM.

The shot of light disappeared behind the distant tree line — before exploding in a huge flare. The sky lit up like it was daytime, the moon eclipsed, and everything cast in stark light and long shadows. The ground shook from impact; the whole car shifted beneath me, making me grab the seat in shock.

"Holy shit!" I cried out, blinded by the blast. Only too late did I realize that the meteor was making for touchdown.

A cloud of birds burst into the air in giant, weaving clouds, startled by the blast, and I felt a shift in the Earth as a massive wind traveled across land, tossing debris and making the windows rattle.

And just as soon as it came, the light was gone. My ears rang in the deafening silence — as I came back to my senses, I could hear car and making me grab the seat in fear.

My immediate thought was that it was an atomic bomb, that the Russians finally decided they had enough of us crazy Yankees and started World War Three to order to kill us off; a theory quickly dissuaded as there was no mushroom cloud, and, you know, I was still breathing, which would not be happening if the bomb had landed as close as... whatever that was had.

I sat there, hyperventilating for a solid two minutes, watching as the faint orange glow appeared above the trees where the meteor had landed. Should I do something? If only I had caught that on camera — this was going to go viral by tomorrow.

Of course, that was my second thought to all this. First, atomic bomb, second: internet fame. Maybe that's just my innate Millennial nature, or maybe I had found my inner opportunist. I could do with a little fame and fortune, anyways.

The crash site didn't look too far away, maybe twenty miles at the most. Somewhere on the outskirts of town, deep in the woods. I knew the roads like the back of my hand, and my phone had full battery, primed for video-taking. I could drive there, easy.

I sat back in my seat, taking the wheel and sighing to myself. I glanced at the dojo, the silhouettes of Mom and Asamo still talking. I was already in a heap of trouble as it was — why would I make it worse? Staying right here was the smart thing to do.

*** However, as I continued to watch the flickering orange light, a strange sensation came over me. My skin tingled and the hair on the back of my neck went on end — and my eyes focused on the orange lights, knowing that something more was going on.

It wasn't quite curiosity. It wasn't necessarily about the comet. It was a sense of knowing...a presence that was never there before. A need to do something.

...But what?

I felt it, like this strange pull in my gut, trying to tell me something I didn't understand. A part of me wanted to chalk it up to just my nerves, the fear, the shock, but the sensation felt deeper than that. It felt wrong to treat it as anything less.

I had no idea what it was, and I had never felt it before, ever, in my life. This was special, somehow. So what did it mean?

All I knew was that bright light had something to do with it, and the only way I was going to find the answer was to go towards it. I needed to go towards it.

I reached for the ignition, then stopped myself, shaking my head. Whoa, slow your horses, Katie. This is completely crazy. You're off your rocker if you just run off like this. Why would I want to get involved in something that was not my business? For all I knew, that blast started a forest fire, and I did not need to put myself in danger over some stupid gut feeling I had.

...and yet, it didn't feel stupid. At least, not that I could tell. There was no immediate sign of danger. But it was there, a nagging sensation that made my head buzz and fingers twitch. The longer I resisted, the stronger the pull became; turning from urgency to threat, then threat to fear. It wasn't me.

Something — no, someone — was out there.

And they needed my help.

I guess that was why I started the car and sped out of the parking lot.

*** A/N: If you're familiar with the Star Wars soundtrack (and let's be honest, if you like Star Wars, you probably are), I imagined this particular part of the scene to feature the song Tales of a Jedi (from A New Hope), that beginning six-note tune on the strings you hear. The movies play that little ditty a lot, to signal a ripple in the Force, like one Jedi sensing the presence of another, or some other disturbance they don't know yet what to make of. It sounds wonderful and mysterious, and denotes a change in the way Katie interacts with the world.

Three guesses as to what she's gonna find at that crash site :D

Bogu - Equipment (robes) used in Kendo – men, kote, do and tare

Bokken - wooden sword

Men - equipment that covers head

Kiai - Vocalization of spirit, or battle cry

Mago - shorthand for grandchild

Obaasan - Grandmother

Sensei - Teacher/Master

Yame - Stop