"Onee-chan?" The voice was so tiny that Michael had to strain to hear it. Tohru, however, jumped forward and scooped the tiny girl into her arms so fast he was afraid the child had whip lash. A giggle escaped the childs lips, and thin arms wrapped around his sisters shoulders.
"Kisa," Tohru cuddled the girl in her arms; her hair an attractive shade of ochre, not blond but not orange, pulled back in a stubby braid that ended at the base of her neck. Obviously Tohru knew this Sohma, Michael mused, rather well.
"Well, are you going to just stand there like weeds wrapped up and choking each other or is someone going to say hi to me?" a sarcastic question floated from the other side of the gate, followed by, "how rude."
"Hiro-kun," Tohru smirked easily and nodded her head to the boys question.
"It seems we were sent on a fool's errand then, since you're here."
"Nani?"
"Shishou asked us to drag you over, let's hurry back to the dojo; I'm missing out on practice time. Of course if you'd had the common sense to tell us you'd be coming by then we wouldn't have had to stop our daily routine for something so trivial. It's not like you weren't expected at some time, but I would have thought you'd have enough courtesy not to be… " he went on in that vein for a good while. Michael couldn't stand it any longer; as the boy was talking he had to see who it was.
He had been taught to expect the ultimate in politeness, and in fact that was what he had received from Japan so far. This young man's voice cut through polite chatter like a katana through a dead fish. Sharp and so pointed it was almost smelly.
Hiro stood, almost leaning against the door but not quite. It was as if he had better things to lean on than the front gate. His hair was a soft brown cut short; his eyes were a darker brown, like a shadow. His mouth was set in what seemed to be a permanent sneer as he berated a Buddha-like Tohru, and his arms crossed in a manner so natural he could have been born belligerent and rude. As he stood, taking it in, Hiro flicked his gaze up to meet Michaels, and in that moment Michael had to consciously stop himself from vocalizing the laughter that flickered in his mind. Tohru was used to how Michael found odd things horribly hilarious, but he didn't think the other two would understand that he wasn't laughing at them, but at the circumstances. He thought he'd already met the only person in the world who could twist things so that everything was a personal affront to their own dignities, and express that in so much double talk and hidden innuendos that it left the other person a muddied mess on the floor, and here he was with another standing, staring him boldly in the eye.
"What are you looking at?" Hiro demanded impetuously.
"I thought I had the only one," he coughed to control the impulse to giggle, but lost control when he saw the look in Tohru's eyes. She had told him, early on in their friendship, that she knew someone just like Jerry. He hadn't believed her then, but now as the mad laughter escaped he had to admit that the killing accuracy in the boys gaze was disturbingly familiar.
"Oh, Hii-kun, please forgive my brother, he sometimes has fits," she pounded Michael between the shoulder blades, sharing a knowing smirk with him as he managed to get himself under control.
"Well when he is done with his mental instability you can come with us," without waiting for an answer he grabbed Kisa's wrist and tugged her gently to get her to follow him. Kisa looked back and grinned, moving her wrist slightly so that the grip slid down to her hand. Tohru tucked her hair behind her head and tugged at the hem of her brothers' shirt.
"Come on, he won't wait for us."
When they got to the dojo Michael was beyond impressed with the compound in general, and the purely aesthetic views of private gardens they passed along the way. He would have become a landscape designer if he hadn't liked writing so much. He had a couple of ideas, as it was, that he wanted to try out at his mother's house the next time he went up as it was. He heard the loud crash of a heavy body and the not so muffled curse of an irate adult male as they stopped outside the dojos' open door.
Kyo stood calmly in the midst of what looked to be a gang of tough, and according to the black belts, trained older men. Bulging muscles seemed par for the course. Sweat gleamed on the chest muscles revealed by disordered gi, fists clenched in frustration, scowls bordered on hatred. Kyo, not one hair out of place, looked horribly bored. In fact he yawned as he crouched in a defensive pose and nodded for the next attack to take place. As the men raced forward in turn he merely stepped toward, grabbed a wrist or placed a kick in a vulnerable area, spoke sharply as to what could be improved, and moved on to the next. Unfortunately some of the men didn't seem to be appreciating the lecture, and jumped him simultaneously.
Michael didn't even have time to blink as the men piled on, and then were thrown outward as if they'd landed on a bomb. Once again, Kyo stood in the middle of a round of panting gentlemen, only this time his gi was slightly skewed.
"Bastards," he muttered, "this is a training exercise that our Shishou's placed in front of us. Learning something new brings no shame, however your little stunt…" he shook his head and exited the moaning circle, only then looking up and noticing the spectators. He blinked, as if confused, then cleared his throat awkwardly, "Tohru…"
"Kyo," Tohru could only tilt her head up to look him in the eye as he descended to the grass with the rest of them. "Enjoying your practice?" she asked with a gentle grin.
"Push-overs," he shrugged, "decently trained but not serious about really mastering anything. Shishou asked me to help his friend's dojo while he was out of town. He thought Shishou's own training might break his students." Kyo shrugged, never having the opportunity to fight eight grown men on his own before he had easily bowed to his master's request. Now he wished he hadn't, it had been too easy, it was dissapointing.
"Once again I see you exercise brawn over brain power," Hiro drawled contemptuously, not directly opposing Kyo, but making his opinion known. Kyo's eyebrow twitched, but Michael applauded the fact that he didn't raise himself to the boys taunt. Arguing with him would only give him more fuel.
When the awaited battle didn't begin Hiro shrugged and continued walking toward the main dojo doors. They were closed, but that didn't stop Kyo from jumping up and swinging them open. A tall, lean man in a loose gi and yoga pants stood in the middle of the room. His eyes were closed gently, a flat expression rested peacefully on his face. Light grey hair was cut short, close to his skull but for a few spiky bangs swaying over his eyes. As they watched he slowly turned a circle with his arms held in or spinning out as he moved. Michael knew he was watching a kata, and having never seen the exercise before he wished he had a video camera so he could revisit this grace whenever he needed a calming influence. Even Kyo and Hiro were too caught up in the strength and deceptive gentleness of the older mans movements. It was rigidly controlled, but loosely executed.
"Ohisashiburi," he muttered lightly, welcoming, as he finished a movement and stood, smiling down at Tohru.
"Shihan," Tohru smiled as well, nodded and nudged Michael forward. "This is Michael, my brother. Michael, this is Kazuma-dono."
