Here we go! Rizreviewer, this one's all yours!
Warning: Two instances of foul language.
On a sunny day in Kyoto, the new recruits of the library forces stumbled off of their busses and rubbed their eyes, blinking a long ride's worth of naps out of their eyes.
Mikihisa Komaki looked around, almost awed by the sheer elegance of the place. It was hard to believe that this library base would be both his home and workplace, but here he was.
"Boo!" A quick finger poked his back, sending shivers up his spine.
Quickly regaining his composure, Komaki chuckled at his best friend. "Very mature, Dojo. I'm shaking in my boots."
"You should be! We're finally going to get into the action!" Dojo laughed. He jumped up and caught his friend in a headlock. "Can you believe it? We actually made it."
"Alright, alright!" Komaki surrendered and they followed the flow of recruits into the men's dorms. There was a giant traffic jam in front of the room assignment board, and it was left to the taller of the two to find their names.
"I can't believe it," he murmured, Dojo still hanging on his shoulder to try to get a better view. "We actually got roomed together."
"That's great!" Dojo laughed again and clapped Komaki on the back. "Lead the way."
"You'd better get serious quick, Dojo," Komaki jibed. "They don't take kindly to jokers, I hear." But he was smiling as he listened to his friend yammer on.
"I'm going to do great here, Komaki. I know it." Pure fire flashed in Dojo's eyes, backed by serious determination. "This is the best way to fight these stupid censorship laws. Right on the front lines!"
"I didn't think the front lines involved so much paper," Dojo was groaning a few hours later.
"We have to work our way up." Komaki carefully stacked his papers on top of the desk, finally finished. "You didn't think you'd be shooting guns on the first day, did you?"
"Of course not!" Dojo snapped. "But look at this!" He sifted through his own disorganized stack. "Book orders, inventory, employee records- WE'RE SORTING RECORDS ON HOW MANY BOOKS WERE DAMAGED FROM FOOD IN THE LAST HALF A CENTURY!"
A door slammed open to their right, and both newbies jumped to attention as their new commanding officer burst in. "What's with all the noise in here?" He glared them down, eyes flitting from one to the other.
"Sorry, sir," Komaki apologized promptly. "We were... Just finishing up?"
"Hm." The officer appraised both recruits work. "Hey, shorty. Come with me. We'll work on desk work later."
"Y-Yessir." Dojo shot a panicked look at his friend before following the older man out of the room.
"Don't mess your pants, Dojo," the man laughed as they walked. "You're not in trouble."
"Oh." Dojo relaxed almost instantly. "Thank you for telling me, sir. I was starting to worry."
"Nothing to worry about," he laughed again. "Name's Genda. Don't mind being called sir, though... Maybe I'll be commander one day and everyone will call me that!"
Dojo chuckled in spite of himself. This Genda person would make a great leader- he seemed like such an easygoing guy, but could also be seriously intimidating. "So what did you need me for, sir?"
Genda smacked himself in the forehead, as if he himself had forgotten.
"That's right! Suit up, Dojo! I need a sparring partner to help demonstrate for the Defense Team recruits."
Dojo waited patiently on the mat, legs folded and hands in his lap. The stares and whispers from the recruits were starting to get to him, especially since he could rationalize their thinking.
Who's that?
I've never seen him before.
He looks too young to be an instructor.
Don't you mean too short?
"All right!" Genda's booming voice silenced the room in a heartbeat before he even came into view from behind the screen door. "So you all want to be in the Library Defense Force? Today we're going to see what you've got. Partner up and mirror me and Dojo, here."
Everyone milled around for a minute, finding their buddies quickly, and soon everyone had a partner.
"Now watch; I'm going to try to take Dojo to the ground." The words were barely out of Genda's mouth, much less into Dojo's comprehension, when they were turned into action. Unprepared, Dojo went down with one well placed shove to the shoulder.
"First lesson: as soon as you're standing, you have to be ready. You can't let your guard down, not even around your best buddies. If you forget that in battle, you're dead meat.
"Second lesson," he continued. "Be a good sport." Grinning, Genda extended a hand to help Dojo up, which he gratefully accepted. "Nobody likes getting one-upped. So no bragging, boasting, or blustering allowed."
A few snickers sounded from the back of the group. Dojo immediately homed in on two pairs in the back corner. All four looked like they were struggling not to laugh.
Dojo decided he didn't like them.
"Now, I'm going to try that again," Genda warned. "You can dodge, block, or whatever. Just don't fall down."
"Sir." Dojo concentrated on his center of gravity, which was much lower due to his height. He spaced his feet apart, bent his knees, and waited. He had no intention of moving an inch.
This time, Genda shoved with both hands. They struck each of Dojo's shoulders, jarring his stance. But his feet both remained firmly in the floor. Dojo might have been small, but he was solid as a rock.
The grin on Genda's face was blinding. "Perfect!" He clapped Dojo on the back. "Congrats, kid. You just earned yourself a spot in the Task Force!"
A chorus of outrage and shock rose from the recruits. Dojo just stood there, still in his defensive stance and a little shell shocked.
"Pipe down!" Genda barked. "Do you know how strong I am, boys?" His eyes gleamed with sadistic mirth. "You're about to find out how much control it takes to stay on your feet in my presence!" With a cry, Genda tackled the nearest recruit, instigating a wrestling match thirty men strong.
"Well, looks like public enemy number one made it back alive."
Komaki's voice was too loud. The dorm lights were too bright. Everything was too much anything for all of the bumps and bruises Dojo sported that evening.
Wincing, Dojo lowered himself to the bottom bunk with a drawn out moan. "You heard about that, huh?"
"I don't think there's anyone on the base who hasn't."
"I don't get it," Dojo complained. "Why did he have to choose me out of all of the new recruits to spar with? And what does my stance have to do with the Task Force?"
Komaki smiled and brought over some tea. "Maybe he just saw how special your talent is."
"Yeah, right. Thanks." Dojo blew on the hot tea and took a small sip. "But now everyone hates me for getting in so easily. I wasn't even selected by a high ranking officer. Is this even a legitimate promotion?"
It took a few minutes for Komaki to come up with an answer for that. "What is Genda's rank?"
"He's-" Dojo blinked. "He never told me. Weird."
"There you go, then."
"Oh God... Komaki, what if he's a-a colonel or something?!" Dojo scrambled to remember anything to clue him in, but came up blank.
Komaki chuckled and collected their empty cups before turning off the lights and climbing into bed. "Don't worry about it too much. You'll see- this will blow over once the others move up the ranks."
It didn't blow over. The next few weeks were torture for Dojo, a constant bludgeoning of hateful pranks coupled with harsh training. It stated out small; rude drawings in his books, shoes disappearing for days on end, and salt in his cereal. Komaki stood by him, and tried to assure him that things would get better. And it became easy to forget himself in his training and block out the others.
Then suddenly, it got a lot worse. Ink turned to razor blades, salt became bugs, and three pairs of shoes never found their way home. Dojo started losing sleep, and showing up late was not something the Task Force permitted.
He felt the victorious glares of the others on his back every time he had to run laps for being tardy. He heard them plotting on new ways to mess with him. He saw the circles forming under his own eyes grow darker each morning when he looked in the mirror, as well as Komaki's concern.
"This is harassment, Atsushi," he finally hissed one day, more put out than Dojo had ever seen him. "If you don't go to Genda, I will."
"Like hell," Dojo grumbled, brushing past him. "You can't wimp out on these kinds of people. You have to face it without flinching. Snitching isn't an option."
Komaki only grunted in response and stalked off in the opposite direction.
Dojo sighed into his towel as he slipped out of the showers and into the cool night air. He had really needed a hot soak. Now maybe he could sleep.
Smack. The sound ricocheted off of the high walls of the dorm buildings, followed by a less resonant thump. Even with the echoes, Dojo easily located the source in a side corridor.
"What's wrong with you?" a nasally voice bellowed. "So what if we pick on the bastard a little? What's it to you?"
Another smack. "That's my best friend you've been harassing. He's too good of a person to do anything about it, so someone has to."
"Why, you little-"
When Dojo peeked around the corner into the alleyway, three of the guys were holding Komaki while the fourth reared back to hit him. Somewhere in the red haze that began to well up behind Dojo's eyes, he identified them as the giggling jerks from his very first day.
"Hey."
"What?" The lone thug looked up just in time to feast upon a mouthful of angry fist. He was out like a light. Dojo knocked out another man before the remaining two gained some sense and ran, dropping Komaki unceremoniously in the dirt.
"Mikihisa!" Dojo ran to his friend and dropped to his knees. "What were you thinking, you idiot?!"
"You would've gotten mad if I snitched," Komaki frowned. "So I found out who had started all of this and tried to get them to stop. What else was I supposed to do?"
Dojo spluttered, trying not to stare at his friend's bloodied face. His eye was quickly darkening from a bruise, and his lip sported a few fresh cuts. At least he'd been fighting back; his knuckles showed evidence of powerful punches.
"Not this!" Dojo finally said. "Now what are we going to do?"
"You're going to sit back and let the big boys handle it!" The shadow of the one and only Captain Genda fell over the two. Each of his hands dragged one of the flighty thugs by the collar. They were whimpering like the bogey man had caught them.
Dojo and Komaki each saluted quickly before Genda laughed and put them at ease. "Good punch, Dojo. Knew my training paid off."
"Wha-? Sir, what are you even doing here?"
Genda sighed, and released his hold on his captives. They looked at each other, as if assessing whether or not to run again, but resigned themselves to apologizing darkly and taking their friends to the infirmary.
Genda, meanwhile, plunked himself down next to Dojo and Komaki, leaning back to look at the sky. "Do you remember the first day? When I made you a TF member?"
"How could I forget?" Dojo asked blandly.
Genda nodded. "Good point. In any case, I knew things would turn sour. They're just like little kids, these newbies. No offense."
"Little taken," Komaki smiled.
"There's a good man. So of course, I watched you to see if anything happened. Obviously, it did." Genda leveled his gaze at both of his subordinates. "Why didn't you report it, Dojo? We have zero toleration for harassment- it's the preschool playground for terrorism."
Dojo was still trying to find a coherent response when Komaki answered for him. "There were dozens of anonymous people involved," he pointed out. "And even if it was just one, Dojo doesn't like asking for help. It's not like him."
Genda nodded sagely before calmly reached out and thumping Dojo on the forehead.
"What the heck was that?!" Dojo howled, nursing his newest ache.
"Your third lesson!" Genda pointed an accusing finger at both boys. "There's a Task Force for a reason! None of us can fight these battles alone. You need to remember that one member's battle automatically applies to the rest of us." His big smile came back stronger than ever. "We're here to help you become better. Don't ignore us and try to take on the world on your own."
That smile undid everything Dojo had tried to lock up all month, and he cried. He cried for every missed wink of sleep, for every whisper and glare, for every hungry morning.
"We're right here, Dojo," Komaki murmured. "Use what we give you; it's how you get stronger."
Dojo wiped his eyes and smiled his appreciation. "Thank you... Both of you. At least the worst is over."
"That's the spirit!" Genda laughed. "Now get to bed, you rowdy kids! I expect you both for training in the morning."
That caught them off guard. Komaki pointed at himself. "Me too, sir?"
"Of course! Where else would the newest member of the Task Force go during Task Force mandatory training exercises?"
Understanding had Komaki tearing up a little bit too. It was a responsibility he wouldn't trade for the world.
"Before that, we should at least get your face checked out," Dojo commented. "The rugged look doesn't suit you."
"You go on, Dojo. I'll take him." Genda clapped a hand on Komaki's shoulder before either could protest and steered him toward the nurse.
"Captain?" Komaki murmured.
"Yeah?"
"I don't know if I'm right for this," he said. "I'm not really a fighter. I mean, Dojo and I used to work out every once in a while, but-"
Genda cut him off with a wave of his hand. "We're not interested in raw strength alone, although that can help. The Force is about loyalty, courage, and strength of will. Both you and Dojo have plenty of all of that and more."
"Lesson number four, sir?"
"You catch on quick, don't you? I like it!"
"Things are all taken care of, Commander." Genda held his salute until Inamine smiled and waved him away. In spite of his disability, the commander of the Kanto library forces was still the most intimidating man Genda had ever met.
"Thank you for keeping an eye on Atsushi Dojo for me," the commander said sincerely. "I've wanted to step in for weeks now, but I'm not one to force assistance on others."
"Piece of cake!" Genda swelled with pride. Both Dojo and Komaki would be great assets to the team- he would make sure of it. "But sir, if you don't mind my asking, why the special interest in Dojo?"
Commander Inamine sighed deeply and steepled his fingers together.
"This old man might not be the fighter he once was, but I've always had my ways of acquiring certain information."
"... You were wandering the library again and saw something, didn't you?"
Inamine allowed himself a devious smirk. "Whatever gave you that idea? If a certain young man were to be in the library on his first day on the job and offer a pitiful old timer his help, how would I know?"
"That's all it took?" Genda asked, shocked. "That's why you wanted me to test out his skills that day?" He shook his head. "I don't get you at all, sir."
"It takes a special kind of person to catch my eye, Captian. A very special kind of person indeed."
Well, that went a little out of control. Rizreviewer's request for the exploration of Dojo and Komaki's friendship (kind of?) with a dash of interference from Genda and the commander. Read and review, and fight the MBC.