Fitting in was never easy - it still isn't. When he initially entered the Jedi Order he was up the creek without a paddle, at the mercy of the unpredictable winds. Nobody had any answers for how to train him, not even the institution seemingly made of iron. The Jedi Order embody the idealism of a younger generation, while the average middle aged person and older view them through the lens of skepticism of their mystical ways.
For Kyle, in his mind he was living the dream. Back on his home planet of Songin, he'll play "Jedi and Sith" with his classmates, and go to bed with visions of adventure dancing around in his head. At fourteen-years of age, he was ready to join his peers in the field and graduate from Youngling to Padawan status. Waking up fresh as a daisy, Kyle felt confined to his bed because his stomach was tied in knots.
"Come on, Kyle!" He heard knocking on his door. "We'll be late!" Scurrying our from under the covers, Kyle nearly trips over himself. He hastily prepared himself for the upcoming day, cleansing himself quickly in the refresher and combing his red hair, which had grown a little to long as of late. Jedi like short hair on their students. It's preference that made them come off as more military than a religion of peacekeepers, in his mind.
"Hold on, Asuka, I'm coming!" He tells her while slipping on his brown robe. Kyle hates the fabric, it's far too heavy for the warmer seasons and itches his skin. He comes out already scratching the back of his neck.
"Would you quit it, you're making yourself look weird." Asuka tells him.
"Ugh, I hate these things. Can't the Jedi afford decent fabric?"
Class began, the two arrive just in time before the figurative bell rang. Today the class was in for a real treat. Jedi Master Plo Koon was their teacher for the day. No matter how old the Younglings were, they always worshiped the Jedi and saw them as role models. Even Kyle thought of them as Gods amongst men. Though he had to admit his first encounter with Kel Dor gentleman. Initially, Master Plo Koon's appearance unsettled Kyle. His inability to breathe the air in most of the galaxy, Plo Koon could only survive by wearing a special oxygen masks which covered their nostrils and even their eyes. Now, Kyle views Plo Koon with sympathy. How can someone live like this? But Plo Koon never let his handicap keep him down and became one of the most respected Jedi in The Order.
Master Plo Koon greets the class, they respond in kind. "Good morning, Master Plo." They say in unison. Kyle then realizes Plo Koon's left arm is in a sling. "Master Plo, how did you break your arm?" A Togrutan woman asks.
"It was during my latest mission on Hissrich." He tells them.
"Did you fight a Sith?" Another student asks, a boy this time. Plo Koon was uneasy, but did confess to have collided with General Grievous, much to the awe of the class. "Did you win?" Someone squeaks with anticipation. Master Plo did not know how to answer that.
"It's not about winning. Jedi shouldn't be searching for a fight, only to end them. A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack." Those words resonated with Kyle, the sense of justice and order his previous life lacked. Master Plo decided to move on from the sore subject. He was here to teach the students in the art of Jedi combat.
"Today will be dedicated to honing your combat skills. Including, but not limited to handling a lightsaber." Master Plo alludes to the inclusion of hand-to-hand, later stressing the importance of not trying to kill your sparring partner. "You won't get the attention you seek if you try to hurt someone purposely."
Kyle wonders whether the task given to the students qualifies for an oxymoron, but who is he to question the teachings of the Jedi?
"I've been training for weeks since the last time we went to the dojo." Asuka was on the verge of rocketing out of her seat. "I'm going to turn some heads today." She looks at Kyle, hoping he'd share the same opinion about himself. He only mumbles a response. In his own words, Kyle's lightsaber skills are "pure trash."
They march over the to dojo, clean as a whistle, shiny as a pin, it stung Kyle's eyes.
To make sure nobody suffered significant injuries, Jedi during sparring sessions would use training lightsabers, a battery powered pseudo weapon that is only able to inflict minor stinging pains when coming into contact with skin. Kyle often wonders why didn't the Jedi just use cheap plastic for training lightsabers? It serve the same purpose and are sold at nearby toy stores - at least where he's from.
Asuka and Kyle were the first two names called up. While Asuka knew which fighting style works for her, Kyle was nowhere near comfortable holding a Jedi weapon. Like most advanced Younglings, Asuka practiced the aggressive, agility based style of Ataru. All Kyle knew about himself was he isn't an airborne fighter, so he shouldn't dare attempt to fight in Asuka's style.
The figurative bell rang, the two circle each other. Asuka was the first to pounce, taking advantage of Kyle's insufficient parrying skills, and cornering him in under a minute. He sighs, dropping his weapon signaling his surrender before slinking back to the group, he heard snickers and quiet jeers behind his back.
"Very good, Asuka. Kyle, what do you think you did wrong?" Plo Koon asks Kyle, who at this point checked himself out mentally.
"Huh?" His posture becomes upright, he tries to play it off like he wasn't just zoning out a second ago. "I guess, I lost."
"You gave up too easy." Plo Koon shakes his head. "You saw yourself losing and decided it is better to lose than to regroup. Asuka will always show mercy, as any Jedi should. But a Sith will not hesitate to kill you."
In Kyle's mind, he couldn't help but scoff. The odds of him fighting a Sith are slim to bupkis. "Does anyone knows what Kyle could have done differently to avoid defeat?" Instantly every students hand fly up in the air. Plo Koon picks the same overly eager Togrutan student from before.
"First, Kyle shouldn't have been so stiff. Second, a counter attack could have given him some breathing space. Third, his nerves were off the charts. I could sense it. I'm sure we call could."
Her answer pleased Plo Koon. "Very observant, Ahsoka." Kyle mouths the words "teacher's pet" to himself. "How about you step up here and spar with Asuka?"
Ahsoka proves more of a match versus Asuka, their similar styles made it difficult to take the other by surprise. With neither combatant giving up ground, Ahsoka avoids an upward slash, jumping backward before hitting Asuka with a Force push, staggering her, seeing an opening she leaps for the finishing blow only for Asuka to meet her attack with a parry. Their lightsabers clash, they use all their muscle to gain the upper hand but are evenly matched.
"You're good." Ahsoka labors with short breath.
"You too." Asuka was also at her tipping point, her hands began to sweat and her grip on the weapon was slipping. Ahsoka had the advantage keeping her palms gloved. She smirks before she throws Asuka off before they clash sabers once more, except she twists her hands until her weapon became dislodged and flew to the other side of the dojo.
"You really need to wear some gloves." Ahsoka doesn't rub in her victory and offers Asuka a hand.
"If I get a pair can I have a rematch?" She jokes. Ahsoka was all to happy to square up when the moment was the most opportune.
Later that day, the students were granted a lunch break. Kyle sits by himself to the side with his tray of assorted food, chicken, a whole grain roll, and salad. Today the lunchroom had the honey mustard dressing he always likes, and blue cheese to boot.
"Kyle ready for lunch!" He says happily, making rocket sounds while playing with his utensil. The snickers he hears behind his back turn him red in the face. "I need to learn to shut up."
Kyle knew his personality is likely the reason nobody sits with him. His eyes look across the mess hall to find Asuka chitchatting away wit a couple of friends. "Looks like she made another one." Kyle comments dryly to himself, noticing Ahsoka sitting right next to her. It's difficult for Kyle to make friends, all the students talk about is their Jedi training. While he found it all fascinating, Kyle had other interests that didn't register with them.
"I wish somebody would sit with me." He confesses. He over hears people ridiculing him for his poor performance during the sparring session.
"He's been here for years and hasn't gotten any better." Someone says. Kyle would move further away, but he felt shackled to his seat.
"Maybe he should just leave. This isn't for him." Another says. Kyle looks down, feeling vulnerable, he picks up his tray figuring it's safer to eat in his room.
"Come on, guys. Lay off of him." Asuka chimes in. "He's doing the best he can."
"His best isn't good enough." Rence retorts. "I don't know why the masters waste time on him."
"Jedi don't abandon their students." Ahsoka explains.
"Yeah, whatever."
(Scene break)
It was never an easy adjustment for Kyle. Leaving the comparably simple life on Songin to pursue his dreams of becoming a Jedi. No matter how hard he works the complexities of lightsaber combat never got easier to understand. This isn't the first time he's been teased for his ineptitude. At times, people insinuated or outright said what the Jedi do with failures is they throw them into the wilderness to fend for themselves. They don't even pay the transportation fare home for their students.
Right now he felt all the motivation seeped out of his body. He crawls under the covers and decides to miss the rest of his classes, feeling not up to attending them.
An hour later, just like in the morning he is awakened by loud knocking on his door. Knowing it was Asuka, he ignores it. "Go away!"
"Master Plo noticed you weren't in class and wanted me to come get you."
"Tell him I'm sick."
"Come on, you can't stay locked in their forever."
"I can and I will!"
Asuka rolls here eyes. "Okay, fine. Let's do this the hard way. Again." She fiddles with the keypad, remembering the numbers to Kyle's room. "5555" He was never the one to count on himself to remember more than one number at a time.
"All right, enough of this Kyle. You need to get back to class." She tries to drag the blanket off of Kyle, they engage in an extended tug-a-war.
"No! They'll make fun of me."
Asuka's heart drops. So he did hear all of that. She did catch him slinking away, with his head down.
"You're only proving them right by staying locked up in here."
"So what?"
"Don't you want to be a Jedi, to keep the peace and all that stuff?"
Knowing the answer is yes, Kyle just shrugs. "What does that mean?" He shrugs again.
"I'm just a loser. I'll never make it."
"Don't talk that ridiculous talk. Of course you will. How about I help you?"
"You will?"
"Of course, silly. What else are friends for?"
He lets his head slip from the covers and he finally gets out of bed. "Thanks, Asuka. You're a good friend."
As much as Kyle owed to Billapa, he owes double the gratitude to Asuka for picking him up when nobody else would.
Kyle enjoyed his days off, especially when he felt they were well earned. This particular R&R was one he could say he deserved and greatly needed. His body was sore all over, and as The Clone War ramps up the days between deployments became smaller.
His master was tough as nails when they first began their relationship, as Kyle was extremely green and needed refining.
The Kyle before The Clone War was a combination skinny in the legs, chubby in the gut. Though being a Jedi was more than physical strength, his appearance was no excuse and needed to be fixed. At times, Kyle felt more like an athlete preparing for the big game as opposed to an apprentice in the Jedi Order.
He looked around at his peers and saw them as more of his superiors given their higher ceiling. But for what ever reason, he could never pinpoint, Depa Billapa chose him to be her Padawan over the others. His first words to her are something he wishes to forget.
"You're my new Padawan, Lyle Izzo?" She unfortunately got his name wrong. Kyle shakes his head, quietly correcting her.
"And I'm the best decision you've ever made picking me." He sounded like a fool, not grasping the importance of his position. Nonetheless, Master Billapa smiles warmly and assures Kyle he couldn't do anything that make her regret having him as an apprentice.