Master Sensei was a man of many roles. As the head of an ancient and tradition-bound institution, he was well versed in the proper etiquette and bearing that this role required. As the head of a large and in many cases, ruthless, ninja organization, he could be stern and committed to the point of being cruel. As the head of a ninja school, he often assumed the role of a foster parent for the youth who he educated. As the man who ordered others to perform actions that were sometimes south of moral and honorable, he often played the role of councilor and confidant when those subordinates had difficulties with what they had done. However, all of these roles were enhanced by a certain, personality trait.

Sensei was being nosy.

Centuries of experience by his predecessors made it much easier. The campus was riddled with spy-holes and listening chambers. Almost every exercise yard and training room sported decorative carvings or bass reliefs, which concealed gaps to a hallway or room from which the occupants could be observed. Even mundane rooms such as the baths, the laundry and the kitchens were shaped in an ellipse, allowing a quiet listener at the proper focal point to hear supposedly private conversations.

Thus, the elderly man was now standing in a hallway which led between a closet in the archives and a storage alcove outside of one of the exercise yards. This hallway sported an exquisitely carved stone monkey with a gaping maw...through which one could observe the exercise yard by removing a cleverly colored piece of wood in the back of the monkey's throat. In the yard, a group of non-traditional students were performing basic drills.

Of course, Fiske knew the drills very well. While there were subtle differences between the discipline of Tai Shing Pek Kwar practiced at Yamanouchi and the one Fiske had practiced, they were similar enough that Fiske was clearly a master. To Sensei's mild surprise, Fiske showed no disrespect to the instructor, even though he was clearly superior to the young woman. On the other hand, and meeting the old man's regretful expectation, Fiske showed a great deal of disdain to his fellow students.

The nobleman had shown the same disdain towards his labors, until Hirotaka had forced a causal relationship between his performance and his situation. Despite the fact that Fiske had to know that he was being manipulated, he had developed a pride in doing a good job. It appeared that it was time to teach the Englishman yet another lesson.

The old man replaced the wood in the carving and stalked unhurriedly down the hallway and out through the archives. He was intimately familiar with his organization, so he knew where each of his standout students would be found at any time. His route took him through buildings, away from the usual paths, and led him to his goal much faster than most would have reached it. Of course, appearing suddenly in an unexpected place was part of the mystique of being a ninja master.

"Ah, Hirotaka," Sensei greeted the student, looking for all the world like he just happened to step around a corner as the boy was leaving his latest class. To Sensei's satisfaction, the younger man gave no sign of being shocked at his master's sudden appearance. Rather, he offered formal greetings.

"I am most pleased with how you convinced your charge to take pride in his work," Sensei informed the boy.

"My thanks, Sensei."

"Tell me, what is your opinion of his current status?"

"He has far to go," Hirotaka admitted. "He still scorns those with less skill than himself, although they have not had a fraction of the training that he has."

"How about his current training?" Sensei prompted.

"He endures it most enthusiastically. He is well aware that the light exercise is aiding in his recovery."

"Ah, so he seems to labor cheerfully and diligently when he reaps the benefits of his labor, but is still scornful of others," Sensei concluded.

"That is my observation, master."

"And mine as well," Sensei smiled at the young man. "Perhaps it is time to tie his fate with that of some lesser servants and see if his attitude changes."

"Of course, master," Hirotaka bowed. "I shall do so immediately."

"This evening will be soon enough," Sensei gently corrected the younger man. "Perhaps a night of contemplation will allow him to adapt to the new situation without the need for unpleasant consequences."

"It is worth a try, master," Hirotaka's tone was polite and proper, but his manner showed that he had major doubts that Fiske would gracefully change his attitude.

Sensei simply smiled and turned to his next task. While he agreed with young Hirotaka, it was vital that the younger man learn that by giving Fiske the opportunity to adjust without unpleasant consequences, he would eliminate Fiske's justification to complain about those consequences. The old man was educating both this student and his unwanted guest. Sensei had learned, both via instruction from his predecessor and personal observation, that the art wasn't so much in teaching a lesson as in how you taught it.

His next task was to debrief another promising student but he chose to exercise another bit of wisdom that long experience had taught him; to observe before the formal meeting. Yori was approaching the school, climbing the mountain after her latest mission in Tokyo. By walking through a tunnel and then climbing a seldom-used stair, Sensei reached a concealed balcony with nobody noticing him. From there, he watched the young woman pass by the watchers at the gates, then make her way to Master Tsukiakari's offices. As she strode, Fiske's class released and the Englishman and several of the probationary students left the exercise yard in route to their dining hall, a route that crossed Yori's path. Upon seeing the Englishman, the young woman tensed up and sneered at him.

Behind his mustache, Sensei frowned. Yori was far more disciplined than this; yet she made no effort to control herself, no effort to conceal her ire from the one who caused it. Even from his distant vantage point, Sensei could see her hands settle into tight fists, see the tension in the muscles of her lower arms. The Englishman may have noted her reaction, but many here did not care to have him near, so one more display of antipathy probably made no strong impression on him. He simply continued on his way, only looking to the sides to make sure he didn't collide with anyone. Once he was clear of the open area, Yori stalked on to Master Tsukiakari's office. Sensei slipped from the balcony and took a deserted path to his study.

"Yori will be showing up to report on her latest mission," he told his aide, once he arrived. "When she does, see to it that we are not disturbed."

"Yes, Master Sensei," the young man bowed.

Satisfied, the old master settled in behind his floor desk and reviewed a budget report, looking for all the world like he had been there the entire morning. By the time the young woman had finished her report to Master Tsukiakari and made her way to his study, he had noted that the incomes from the tithes in Taiwan had increased slightly and that opportunities in that nation were expanding. When his aide announced Yori's arrival, he made a slight show of putting the papers to one side as she entered.

"I report upon completing my mission," she announced with a bow. "As custom requires."

"Indeed, child," he gestured for her to be seated. "How did the mission go?"

"I found success," Yori answered. "While Master Tsukiakari will certainly find more details in the data I copied, it would appear that there were those in this company who were funneling money and services to a location in the Shanxi Provence."

"Well done," he noted. "But what of you during the mission?"

"I found no hardships nor dangers," she told him.

He merely looked at her.

"Was I followed, without my knowledge?" She asked. "Was I discovered?"

"Not to my knowledge," he gently answered her. "But did you encounter anything unexpected?"

"When I stopped in the service station, I took a cup of tea and observed a vehicle being repaired," she admitted, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"That behavior is to be expected by the identity you were mimicking," Sensei nodded.

"I...saw the mechanic," she pointed out.

"Ah...," Sensei rested a kindly gaze upon her. "Even those who have disgraced themselves can serve; if one is detached enough to allow them to do so."

"I...have difficulty reaching this level of detachment," she admitted.

"It can be difficult," he assured her. "Take Fiske, for example."

The reaction was subtle, but his trained eye caught it; the slight tension in her jaw and neck. In his presence, she tried to conceal her dislike but his experience at spotting such reactions was greater than her experience at concealing them.

And he knew what buttons to push.

"Yori," he chose to not use honorifics. "How old are you?"

"Twenty, master."

"You are no longer a teenager," he pointed out. "Although passions run strong in those your age, I had thought you capable of overcoming them."

"The fault is mine," she said the proper words, and showed the proper contrition by facing the ground. Yet, she was too good a student, far too disciplined, for the old man to accept that she had suffered a moment's weakness.

"Yet you would not allow yourself to exhibit such a loss of control without a reason," he told her. His voice was gentle, understanding. "Speak to me of your troubles."

She paused, although Sensei couldn't determine if she was doing so in order to order her thoughts or to center her emotions. Either way, it spoke well of her maturity that she would take time to do so, rather than simply blurting out a complaint.

"Why must Yamanouchi extend such courtesies to Fiske?" She finally asked.

"Because he is potentially of much use to us," he answered. "As dishonorable as his methods were, he accumulated a great deal of knowledge when he walked the Earth before taking the path of the Yono. His time in the Yono's hell can potentially give us an insight into the motivations of this demon, allowing us to counter it more effectively."

"Yet you allow him to wander the grounds of this school," she pointed out. "When, in the past, he has stolen valuable items from us."

"He is always watched," Sensei assured her. "And he is in no condition, at this time, to attempt an escape."

"Yet you rehabilitate him," she protested. "His attending the basic class will bring strength back to his limbs as well as discipline." She looked at her master with an expression as close to challenging as she ever allowed herself in his presence. "Should we weather this latest crises, what will become of him?"

"He will remain here until such time that I am satisfied that he is no longer a threat to others," he assured her, although he did not appreciate being questioned by one as young as her. "At such time, I will release him."

"To return to his mansion and wealth," she concluded. "He inherited a great deal of his wealth, yet he has increased it by dishonorable means. He will return to luxury and leisure."

"Is that the issue you have?" Sensei's inquiry was gentle but firm. "Do you wish the luxury that he had prior to following the path of the Yono?"

"No!" Yori's tone indicated the level of insult offered to her. "I do not seek leisure or luxury! I merely question allowing one such as he to return to such things."

"Why do the honorable labor and sacrifice, while the unworthy seem to reap the rewards?" The old man intoned. "I have heard this question many times, worded in many different ways, from many people...including myself, when I was your age. In Fiske's case, the answer is simple; I do not have control over his estate, so I cannot give it to whom I deem a worthy keeper. Even if I had the power to do so, I would not wish it. It simply isn't my place to do so. To seek more authority, to try to control the Fiske wealth, would lead me down a path similar to the one that he took."

"Yet what about what you can control?" She pressed the issue, something very out of character for her. "I have heard that you give him access to our archives, is this not a risk?"

"It is," he admitted. "And one that is my choice to take or not."

In response, she lowered her head, looking at the floor.

"Yori, are you looking for revenge?" He asked. "Revenge is foolish! I know that this man nearly incinerated you twice, that he caused great damage to the school and because of him, the Yono turned me to stone. But will harming him now cause any of those things to not happen?"

"No..." she whispered in reply. "But it may prevent him from doing the same, to someone less capable of defending themselves, in the future. If an evil man only experiences slight consequences for his deeds, what is to prevent him from doing more?" She looked at him again. "What his the difference between justifiable retribution and foolish revenge?"

"That is something that the aged and wise struggle with, daily," had admitted to her. "And it must be determined on a case-by-case basis. Between the time that Fiske performed his evil deeds and now, he has suffered through the Yono's hell. It is my belief that we do not need to punish him further; we merely need to help him understand that his actions put him there and may put him back. It's for this reason that I seek to educate him, rather than punish him."

"I bow to my master's greater wisdom," she offered, as way of apology, but Sensei could see that her heart wasn't in the apology.

He had observed young people for many years and although she performed an admirable job of suppressing her emotions, she couldn't conceal them from him. He managed to avoid sighing in frustration, knowing that such things must follow their own course.

"Return to your quarters," he instructed her. "Rest, meditate at the shrines, speak with those whose company you cherish. Find your inner balance. You took this mission too soon after your last one; you hadn't had enough time to find your center."

"I obey my master," the young woman informed him, rose her her feet, and bowed her way out of his study.

Sensei took a long moment to contemplate his recently-departed student. Yori was among the most capable and faithful ninja of her generation, but she was still young. She probably saw him as the epitome of authority, rather than as the servant to necessity that he was. He allowed himself a resigned sigh; as much as he hoped that she would eventually attain high office within the Yamanouchi organization...for Yamanouchi's sake, he also hoped that she would not. For her sake.

His moment of contemplation finished, he set about his tasks for the day. He had budgets to allocate, training courses to approve or alter, recruitment goals and methods to review and implement. In many ways, being the master of Yamanouchi was like being a juggler handling balls of lead, glass and rubber. The lead balls, when dropped, fell away and were forgotten. The rubber balls, when dropped, would bounce up and give one a second chance. The glass balls, however, when dropped would shatter and bring on sometimes dire consequences.

Engrossed in his tasks, he did not realize that noon had come until his aide interrupted his latest work. Grateful for the excuse to stretch his old legs and escape his study for a short time, he took a light meal and strode about the grounds, observing his charges as they both learned and served. After lunch, it was time for a meeting of the masters, followed by more paperwork and his daily workout. Finished, he once again took sparsely-traveled routes to a certain exercise yard, where he was able to discreetly observe when Hirotaka spoke to Fiske after the probationary students' evening exercises.

As much as he had chagrined Yori for showing emotion, here, out of sight, he indulged in a moment of cruel glee when he saw Fiske's expression. The nobleman first glared at Hirotaka, then looked with something close to despair at his two roommates. Finally, Fiske settled on an expression of resignation.


This was intolerable!

By what justification did Yamanouchi attach his fate to these two...imbeciles? Fiske had finally gotten a little of what he wanted; his duties at Yamanouchi allowed him a bit of free time to dig through the archives; combine the observations of generations with his first hand observations and try to find a way out of...this. But no! Now, that infernal old man had tied his fate with these...unworthy wretches!

The idiots were completely helpless when it came to the most basic forms and techniques! If Fiske were to waste his time helping them, he would have no time to study the archives. Yet, if he were to spend his time in the archives, he was certain that the two dolts would fail and return him to the point where, ironically enough, he would have no access to the archives.

He stood outside the building which housed the spartan quarters he shared with the two. He fumed and thought, trying to find a way out of his predicament. Finally, he decided on the lesser of two evils and stormed into the quarters and chased the two younger men outside. There, he spent a couple of hours instructing them in the most basic of kung-fu skills; the proper placement of the feet, weight distribution and when to lock your joints or to leave them fluid. After two hours, he decided that further instruction would be counter-productive and besides, he was growing weary as well. He accepted their clumsy thanks and chased them off to bed, certain that he was somehow being manipulated by Sensei, yet again.

For three days, he struggled to teach Wah and Sung the basics. He had no doubt that the extra attention helped them as although they still seemed more akin to sloths with two right feet, they were improving. The youthful instructors who ran the probationary students through their basic exercises seemed pleased with them, but Fiske knew that institutions such as Yamanouchi worked on timelines more extended than was convenient for him. He needed to get the two dolts to a level that would allow him to return to his studies...but they just weren't there.

On the fourth day of dealing with his new charges, Hirotaka intercepted him as he left the yard after morning training.

"You have a visitor," the younger man told him. "Your other duties for this morning are excused. Follow me."

Fiske ground his teeth but did as told. His morning's duties were scheduled to include work in the archives, which would have allowed him some time to dig through them for references to the Yono. Seething, he followed Hirotaka through the grounds. He noted that he left the areas he was most familiar with and walked into an area that seemed somewhat separated from most of the facility...as if Yamanouchi didn't want the rest of the school to see what took place her.

Or maybe Yamanouchi didn't want anyone here to see what took place in the rest of the school.

They went into a building that Fiske had never entered before. The Englishman had a few moments to note that the interior looked modern and western, before Hirotaka opened a door and motioned for him to enter. Careful to neither speed nor slow his stride, Fiske did as prompted...only to stop in his tracks.

Inside the room, a familiar form stood from one of the chairs that surrounded a meeting table.

"M'lord Fiske!" The familiar voice greeted him.

"Bates," Fiske's voice was considerably colder, which wasn't lost on his onetime manservant.

"I-It's wonderful seeing you...mobile...again," the man offered.

"I cannot say the same for you," Fiske just managed to keep his tone from becoming a snarl. His hand twitched, wanting so much to throttle this dolt who had played a part in bringing him here.

"M'lord?" Bates clearly didn't know the reason for his ire...wasn't capable of grasping the reason.

"What is the reason for this meeting?" He demanded of his escort.

"You're still the lord of the Fiske Estate," Hirotaka pointed out. "Even though you're something other than a guest here. Mr. Bates has been placed in charge of the estate, as you are still officially a missing person. Master Sensei worked with a couple of other interests to allow Bates to come here, so you can direct his future activities."

Indeed, Bates pulled out a notebook and called up a screen with a ledger. Still seething at the man, Fiske stalked forward and dropped into a chair, directly in front of the offered figures. What followed was a briefing that irritated him like few things in his life ever had. Bates had squandered a great deal of wealth on such useless items! He could have almost understood if the dolt had spent the money on himself, but what he had purchased was...foolish!

"Why did you spend all of this money on international travel?" Fiske demanded, once Bates had fully reviewed his current, financial status.

"I was looking for you, m'lord," Bates insisted. "Nobody knew what had become of you, so I personally tracked down what leads were available."

"Have you ever been an investigator?" Fiske demanded. At Bates' soundless shake of his head, he continued. "You should have hired a proper, investigative firm. It would have costed more but the travel would have then not been money simply thrown away! You worked with me before, so you knew that there were those you could have reached who sometimes worked in a legal gray area."

"But, m'lord..." he began to protest.

"And these donations to put a child through boarding school," Fiske continued, not giving the man a chance to speak. "Have you suddenly become charitable, with my possessions, or could you have a more personal connection to the whelp?"

"Sir?"

"Is this your child?" Fiske demanded, roaring out his anger. "Are you educating some child of yours at my expense?"

"Absolutely not!" Pure outrage gave Bates the courage to stand up to his angry master. "This child is the next in line to the Fiske Estate! I was ordered by a representative of Her Majesty herself to see to his needs!"

"So you spend my money on my replacement?" Fiske's voice rose a full octave...and several decibels.

"When specifically ordered to by the crown, yes m'lord."

"Bah!" Fiske backhanded the offending notebook across the room. He would have backhanded Bates as well, but we pretty sure that Hirotaka would intervene in a most violent manner. "I would have never let any agent of the crown force this upon me! I don't know what happened to you after we recovered the last of the jade idols, but your loyalty suddenly vanished! You abandoned me, then leap at the opportunity to mismanage my estates. Finally, your clumsy efforts brought the attention of both the crown and Yamanouchi onto me!"

"M'lord?" Again, Bates was confused.

"Your efforts to procure the knowledge and materials to return me to flesh were clumsy," Fiske explained, as if he were speaking to a child. "They were easily tracked and led to both the crown and Yamanouchi realizing what you were doing. Because of this, I came to life here, rather than at my estate where I could have recovered and been prepared to confront those who would exploit me. Instead, I find myself being used as a servant and forced to divulge the secrets I spent a lifetime learning!"

Bates had no answer to this, although his face had gone ashen.

"Deal with my estate as you will!" Fiske finally spat. "It is of no consequence to me at this time...which is probably just as well! Give this next Lord Fiske the same loyalty that you gave me! Let's see how well the little wretch does with such service."

"I think this meeting is over," Hirotaka was suddenly right behind Fiske. "Mr. Bates, Yamanouchi thanks you for making the journey on such short notice and apologizes for the reception you have received. A staff member will be by shortly to see to your lodging until we can arrange your return journey. Fiske, it's time to get back to your duties."

Fiske contented himself with a harsh glare as Hirotaka ushered him out of the room.

"I suppose you're going to tell me that I handled him too harshly," Fiske growled at his escort, once they were away from his former manservant.

"It's not my place to say," Hirotaka told him. "It's going to be up to you to decide but I should warn you, Master Sensei has some interesting and effective ways of changing a person's attitude."


"So, what is your opinion?" Master Sensei asked his guest.

"He's arrogant and self-centered," Dr. Director answered. The woman had been honestly surprised when Sensei invited her to observe Fiske's reaction to seeing Bates. She had been even more surprised to observe the meeting via a hidden camera. She shook her head at her own prejudices...she had assumed that spying would be done via secret chambers and carefully concealed spy holes. "He refuses to change his perspective to his manservant's and because of this, he cannot comprehend that Bates served him; not only to the best of his ability, but well."

"Your observations match my own," Sensei nodded to her. "But I have noted more, due to greater time observing him. He will shortly be dealing with others of his rank, would you care to observe?"

"It would be my pleasure," she answered, rising to her feet. "There's an old piece of dating advice in America. It goes something to the point that if you want to see what a person is really like, observe him while he deals with a subordinate."

"That seems good advice," the old man led the way out of his study and along seldom-used passages. Soon, he cautioned Dr. Director to keep her voice down while he pulled a piece of wood from the throat of a carved, stone monkey and gestured her to look through. An odd smile appeared on her face as she did so. While she observed Fiske, he observed her.

Her jaw clenched and there was a slight tightening of her forearms. Sensei knew the response well; she was mentally placing herself in Fiske's situation and was therefore ready to throttle the man for his attitude. It did not take long before she backed away from the spy hole. Sensei returned the bit of wood, then led her back towards his study.

"He makes no distinction between those who have actively harmed him, those who have not lived up to his expectations, and those who simply happen to be in his way," she commented, once they were safely away from the statue.

"Again, this is much as I have observed," Sensei noted. "Although I prefer to have a second opinion; and one that comes from outside Yamanouchi is particularly prized."

"That observation was satisfying," she told him, now sporting a small grin. "Somehow, observing someone through a peephole seems more in place for a ninja school than watching him on a screen."

"We embrace progress where it is efficient," Sensei returned her smile. "But sometimes, the traditional ways provide more contentment."

"So, what will you do with Fiske now?" She asked, as they reached the old man's study.

"I had hoped that he would learn his own lesson from all of this," Sensei sighed. "Knowledge that you derive for yourself is retained longer, but it appears that he is incapable of doing so. I shall have to subject him to a more intense lesson."

"I'll leave that up to you," Director shrugged. "But in the meantime, I was hoping that we could agree to a greater exchange of data and resources, even beyond dealing with the Yono."

"Of course,' Sensei nodded. "Our organizations seem to strive for similar goals, there is no reason that we cannot be allied." He sighed. "The issue of the Yono is vexing, is it not? What assets we can move into China are looking, yet they have found nothing. Does that mean that we are in the wrong place, that the Yono's agents are clever, or that there is nothing happening at this time?"

"That's the nature of surveillance," Dr. Director sighed in return. "Too often, you learn that you missed something after it's too late. There's no prize for predicting the past."

Sensei snorted at the realistic humor.

"I'm willing to share a bit of information, as a sign of goodwill between us," she told him. "It's only tangentially relevant to Fiske's situation, but you may find it of use."

Sensei merely quirked an eyebrow.

"Global Justice counselors are currently working with Mr. Stoppable," she told him. "He seems to have some issues with the Mystical Monkey Power."

"What sort of issues trouble young Stoppable?"

"He's afraid of the power," she answered. "To be more exact, he's afraid that he may use it to harm someone in a moment of pique."

"I believe that one of your presidents said that nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power." Master Sensei nodded. "It would appear that young stoppable is passing this test, which may explain why the Mystical Monkey Power has chosen him."

"Chosen?" Director asked.

"The Mystical Monkey Power is not a mindless force," Sensei explained to her. "While those exposed to it will gain certain aspects of it, it saves it's greatest gifts for those it chooses to bestow them upon."

"And Fiske wasn't such a person," Director prompted.

"Fiske is arrogant and ambitious," Sensei confirmed. "He is also self-centered. I believe that when he obtained the first of the jade statues, the power awakened in him a desire to obtain the other three. However, by handling the statues, he gave it a glimpse into his character. The power itself probably found him wanting due to the very traits you just saw him exhibit."

"So, how did it call Stoppable?"

"I don't believe that it is capable of calling anyone in particular," he pointed out. "When Fiske obtained the last statue, it compelled him to steal it away, so that he could be observed and hopefully, a hero would have arrived to right the wrong and, hopefully, place himself or herself in a position to be judged by the power."

"So it got Stoppable instead of Possible," Director concluded.

"And seems to be well pleased with him," Sensei agreed.

"If you're so knowledgeable about this power, why didn't you recover the statues?" Dr. Director asked him.

"I do not believe that the Mystical Monkey Power would accept me," he answered. "I am the head of the Yamanouchi School, and therefore my discretion in utilizing the power is inherently compromised."

"Much like Toshimiru," Dr. Director noted. "He already owed the emperor and his temple his loyalty."

"I see you understand," Sensei smiled at the younger woman. "The Mystical Monkey Power serves a purpose and that purpose cannot be fulfilled by one who already has certain ambitions or conflicting loyalties. Students at my school would be unacceptable, as would members of your organization. Members of the various armed forces, law enforcement organizations, or those who have powerful, personal ambitions would not be to the power's liking."

"So, someone who is afraid of using it, who won't use it except as a last resort, would be perfect for it." Director concluded.

"Exactly," Sensei nodded again. "Even one such as Miss Possible, who has powerful goals and strives to be a hero, would not meet with its approval. For her, the temptation to use it to impose her view of right and wrong upon the world would be too great."

"I guess the lack of higher ambition can be an asset, to someone or something who knows how to make use of him," she shrugged her shoulders. "In the meantime, we still have some details to work out."

"Indeed," Sensei noted. "I would also like to familiarize you with more of my organization, as we previously agreed. This will take the remainder of the day, so it is my honor to extend Yamanouchi's hospitality to you for tonight. If you would like, I can arrange for you to test yourself against some of my better students."

"Master Sensei," there was a predatory smile on Dr. Director's face. "I thought you'd never make the offer."


"You have different tasks for today, once again."

Fiske tried to take the declaration stoically, but it wasn't easy. The continuing aggravation of trying to teach Sung and Wah, added with his meeting with Bates yesterday, had done much to make sure that he had started off the morning in a fouler mood than usual. Instead, he followed the younger man to yet another point within Yamanouchi that he wasn't familiar with. Finally, Hirotaka stopped at a heavy door. Idly, Fiske noted that the door was decorated with symbols depicting both fire and earth.

"Here," Hirotaka opened a nearby box and pulled out what appeared to be a tool belt. "Put this on and open the door."

Grumbling, Fiske did as ordered. Upon pushing the door open, he found himself facing a rough-hewn passage through the native rock. A tap on his back caused him to spin around to find Hirotaka handing him a lit lantern and several bottles of water.

"Your duty for today is to follow that passage," the big man told him. "You will receive lessons during the journey. It will be up to you to learn from them."

Fiske took the offered equipment, attached the bottles to his belt and started his journey. He wanted to demand more information, but he was certain that this was supposed to be some sort of mysterious journey of self-discovery. After a dozen strides, Hirotaka slammed the door shut. Despite his sudden feeling of nervousness, he refused to rush back and try to open the door. It would have been too stereotypical and would have given his captors too much satisfaction. Instead, he swallowed his unease and continued.

He wondered why he was so nervous; others had obviously gone this way before him, and those others most certainly were nowhere near as formidable as he. Then he realized that this was the first time in over a decade that he was going into the unknown without his monkey ninjas accompanying him.

"Perhaps I have received an inadvertent lesson about over-dependence," he mused. The passage proved to be a steep, winding grade downward. It was dark, but the lantern provided enough illumination to avoid stumbling too often. After more than an hour, his feet started to hurt terribly. While his prehensile feet were invaluable in a fight or when climbing, they were a severe handicap when walking long distances. There was a reason that baboons and other terrestrial monkeys had lost a great deal of the prehensile capabilities from their rear appendages; human-like feet were better for a long walk.

Finally, after over two hours of walking, he reached a door. Since he had no other way to go, he pushed hit open and discovered that the passage was gone. He was now high on the wall of a vast, open cavern. In front of him, he saw a tunnel of sorts, formed by metal bars. It appeared that several bars formed the 'floor' of the tunnel, as well as the sides, running parallel to his direction of travel. More bars wrapped around these, forming the tunnel and, he assumed, making sure that nobody actually fell through the gaps. He looked up and noted that at regular intervals, chains linked to the top of the 'tunnel' and ran up into darkness, clearly supporting the metal pathway. Deciding that he must go on, he attached the lantern to another hook on his belt and continued, using his feet to grip the lower bars and his hands to grasp the bars to either side. As he continued, a red glow grew.

Sometime after the door behind him was lost in darkness, metal grates swung down from the ceiling of his tunnel, both in front of and behind him. They locked into place, trapping him in a tunnel section some ten feet long.

"What is the meaning of this?!" He demanded to the red-tinged darkness around him.

Before he could speak further, a sickening lurch shuddered through his cage. The cage detached itself from the rest of the path and started to move away from it. Fiske looked up and noted that is cage was supported by a chain, but he couldn't see what the chain was attached to, what was ultimately supporting his cage. Obviously, the support point was mobile, as he found himself being carried off at a fairly impressive rate, causing the cage to rock and sway in a nauseating motion.

He had only a few seconds to contemplate vomiting before the space below him became brightly lit. He was now over a lava lake, some fifty feet above the glowing, liquid stone. Up above him, the support point stopped with the loud clang of metal striking metal, causing his cage to swing in a wide arc above the molten stone. He heard the sound of metal being manipulated above him, then the cage began to lower.

"What is the meaning of this?" He roared again.

Suddenly, he found himself even with a small, level spot on the cavern wall. On this level spot he saw a slowly turning winch, ostensibly controlling his very unwelcome descent. A young woman, the same one that he had seen speaking to his statue, stood next to the winch. He now noted that she was familiar from before he took the Yono's path, but he couldn't recall from where.

"Stop this immediately," he demanded of her.

"Greetings, Fiske," the woman replied. "I must tell you that I will not stop your descent at this time. You must tell me why I should do so, before I will."

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"My name is Yori," she replied. "It was not many years ago that I was in your position, locked in a cage, being lowered into a lava lake to be incinerated. You, in fact, were the one who put me into that position."

THAT was why she looked familiar, but it didn't seem wise to say so at this time.

"So is this some form of revenge?" He demanded, as his cage continued to descend. While he was now below Yori, her reply was easily heard.

"Revenge is a waste of effort," she replied. "And your questions consume time that you would be better utilized by you justifying your rescue."

"I am a guest of the Yamanouchi," he informed her, eyeing the approaching lava with a certain, growing concern. "It is very poor form to incinerate a guest."

"You are a guest of the Yamanouchi," Yori agreed. "But not a guest of mine. Master Sensei has given me complete discretion to handle this situation as I see fit."

"Okay, rescuing me is the right thing to do," now, the temperature on the sole's of Fiske's feet was getting uncomfortably high.

"I am ninja, not samurai," Yori countered. "My definition of right and wrong does not fit into the same mold to which you are accustomed."

"Meaning?" He demanded.

"Meaning that I look beyond this 'right and wrong' of my personal behavior," she told him. "You are a stain on the world, Fiske. While you may be capable of redemption, it is uncertain that you will achieve redemption. Would any be harmed, or even inconvenienced if you were to be incinerated...in the next six minutes?" She paused a moment. "If you were to meet the lava, vanish without a trace, how many beyond the walls of Yamanouchi would even know?"

For several, precious seconds, Fiske racked his brain, trying to come up with a name of anyone who would be truly sorry to lose him. The members of his group? The only contact he had with them was when he scorned them. Bates? Bates was a faithful servant, whom Monty had just treated with contempt. Hirotaka? While the senior student would probably feel a minor sense of loss, it would be one of personal failure in not rehabilitating him, not a sense of loss for him. His monkey ninjas? Were they truly happy serving him, or would they be better off in a rain forest somewhere, living their lives as free monkeys?

Lord Montgomery Fiske suddenly realized that if he were to die here today, to be incinerated with no trace left...nobody would mourn his loss and only a handful would even realize that he was gone.

"Very well," he tried again. "Your master has agreed to rehabilitate me, obviously, I must be worth saving."

"Master Sensei agreed to attempt your redemption," Yori corrected him. "And this is part of his attempt. Should you fail, it will prove that you were beyond his ability to redeem."

"This is preposterous!" He protested, now the hair on his toes was starting to smolder, prompting him to climb to the top of his cage. "This is cruel."

"No more cruel than putting me in a cage, much like yours," she countered. "No more cruel than lashing me to another and forcing us into a lava chamber to recover a red gem." Her ledge was now high enough above him that he had difficulty seeing her shake her head in disgust. "And even after I helped rescue you from Doctor Hall's clutches. You pick a poor subject upon whom to protest the cruelty of your situation."

Fiske ground his teeth in both frustration and pain. He honestly couldn't come up with a reason why the wench should stop the winch. His clothing was now starting to smoke and blisters were beginning to form on his skin.

"I'll give you everything I have!" He screamed in desperation. "You can have anything of my estate, which is still extensive! Take it for yourself or share it with your school, I don't care! Just save me!"

"My idea of wealth is different from yours," her voice sounded calm from above him. Of course, not descending into magma probably contributed to her calm demeanor. "Your wealth does not have a solid appeal to me. Besides, what's to say that you'll forget such promises as soon as you are free of this fate?"

"Fine, you have no reason to assist me!" He screamed. "I can only ask you, even beg you, to help me even though you have no reason!"

Suddenly, his cage stopped its downward motion, almost dislodging him from his hold on the top bars. It then began to rise away from the seething magma below.

"You have finally provided an adequate reason," Yori's voice sounded from above him, her voice reflecting the slight strain she must be experiencing while operating the winch.

"Reason?" He asked, while patting at his smoking clothing.

"The fact that I had no reason," she informed him. "The fact that rescuing you would go beyond any logical reason for me."

Fiske choose to not answer.

"Do you not see, Fiske?" Yori's voice lashed at him. "I had no reason to rescue you, other than my own, free choice. I chose to rescue you, even though I saw no personal gain. Even though I had every reason to let you descend, I had the choice to assist you, the man who had twice tried to kill me, I chose to let you live. If I can make this choice, even though I have every reason to despise you, can you not make the same choice when dealing with one who has never done you harm? Can you not make the same choice when dealing with someone who merely inconveniences you, through no fault of his own?"

He was now level with Yori again. She could now look him in the eye.

"That is the lesson you must learn, the motivation you must seek to gain," she continued. "To show respect, patience and even kindness, even though it gives you no benefit."

The woman pulled a lever and the cage suddenly swung away from her. The unexpected motion drew a most undignified scream from Fiske's throat. The wild ride ended, however, with a gentle landing on another ledge. The cage fell apart.

"On your ledge, you will find healing balms for your burns," Yori's voice sounded from the somewhere across the lava pool. "You will also find a passage leading back to the surface. This passage will lead to a quiet garden, where a surging waterfall flows into a peaceful pool. There, the waters join in tumultuous harmony. When you arrive in this garden, perhaps you will ask the Kodama that live there if they will help you to understand the lessons that have been presented to you today. If you hurry, you will be able to do all of this and still attend your evening practice and enjoy your evening meal."

"But what if I cannot move quickly enough?" Fiske demanded. The silence that answered him told him that Yori had gone.

Grumbling to himself, he made use of the balms, coating the considerable burns over his body. He also drank a great deal of the water he still carried. Holding his lantern in front of him, he found the passage the girl had told him about and started his journey anew. This time, the route ascended in steep spirals. His wounds slowed him even as the prospect of seeing the sun again spurred him forward.

After two hours of travel, and consuming the last of his water, he felt a breeze of fresh air on his face and considered it the most blessed experience of his life. Minutes later, he stepped out of a cavern and into the garden, which was as tranquil as Yori had promised. He also saw the pool and waterfall, but contemplation of tumultuous harmony had to wait while he plunged his head into the pool and quenched his thirst. Sated, he contemplated his peaceful surroundings.

His own religious beliefs were confused, as he couldn't say that he honestly believed in anything beyond power. He folded his legs into the lotus position and tried to calm his mind. Finally, he felt prepared to commune with whatever power seemed to watch over this garden.

"Oh power that is present here," he began. "If you are a spirit of the forest, the waters or the earth. If you are a god of any the religions I have studied and scorned in the past, I ask you to hear my plea. Please, allow me to grow wiser due to the suffering I have just endured. Help the pain I still feel not have been endured in vain. Help me also to achieve the inner serenity that I sense in this holy place."

He heard no response...he wasn't really expecting one...but he honestly hoped to somehow understand the test the Yamanouchi had just inflicted upon him. Bowing to the garden, he took his leave and made his way to back to the Yamanouchi School.

He didn't notice the one-eyed woman who sat quietly and observed and listened to him from behind a low shrub.

He made it just as evening practice was being called and despite his painful burns, he attended the practice. His group's performance hadn't gotten any better in his short absence. At the practice's conclusion, he realized that if he hurried, he could seek assistance at the infirmary before the evening meal was served. However, he looked at his companions. He had no reason to assist them, but perhaps he should; so he called them together.

"Wah," he addressed the first youth. "You still have not mastered the front snap kick. When doing so, remember that the knee goes up before the foot goes out. An easy way to remember is to strike your butt with your heel both before and after the kick. Try it, excellent! Remember to strike your butt with your heel with each kick, and you will do much better."

"Sung," he spoke to the next youngster. "You bounce too much when you move. Don't lift your feet from the ground, slide them along the ground in half-circles. Maintain contact with the ground, in case you have to change direction suddenly. The goal is to keep your head at the same level throughout the motion. Okay, you're not quite there but you'll get better."

"Perhaps I have been hasty," he told them. "We are allowed a certain amount of conversation during the evening meal. Let's make use of this, tell me your backgrounds."

During dinner, Fiske learned that both young men were orphans from Taiwan. While they had received a very basic education from their orphanage, they had never been trained in certain manners or martial arts. While the Yamanouchi instructors tried to show them how to perform the basic moves and strikes, they had never been told why. Fiske realized that a little explanation could go a long way to improving them so, during the walk back to their quarters he did his best. While not well educated, they were far from fools; they quickly understood the benefits of weight distribution, striking points, and when to lock joints. Despite his burns, Fiske slept better that night than he had in a long time.

The next morning, his charges exhibited considerable improvement but Fiske realized that the three could do better. Upon being released from the morning exercises, he discussed their duties. He quickly realized that if the three teamed up and worked together to perform their mundane tasks, they would do their work more efficiently, freeing up more time for him to spend in the archives. Again, he was being manipulated but for the first time, he realized that the manipulation might be to his benefit. Of course, he had another task to perform.

As was his habit, Hirotaka met Fiske after lunch to check on his progress. This time, Fiske had a request of the younger man.

"If you could arrange another meeting with Bates, I would be most appreciative," Fiske told him. "The man did the best he could, under the circumstances and I owe him an apology."


A/N: As always, big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his beta reading.