Sunday.

A day of rest known to all.

The majority of Tosa remained indoors due to the yet again overbearing late-spring heat. That day the air was thick with humidity. Just one breath of air would set your lungs on fire. The sky was disappointingly clear with nary a cloud in sight.

Within the town, only a few cars roamed along the street accompanied by children playing amongst the sidewalk. Makoto, was one to not be deterred by the sun's offense. She ran along the countryside. Dry blades of grass in her path were senselessly trampled as her strides continued at a steady pace. The yellow hachimaki wrapped around her neck fluttered in the hot wind behind her.

Makoto ran along the dirt path that passed along numerous homes of fellow farmers and their grassy green fields full of crops. Past the barn where gated off farm animals roamed in their vast field. Over the bridge that connected the two sides of Tosa; Rural into Modern. When crossing the bridge, Makoto increased her pace. Pumping her legs even harder after contact had been made with concrete. She whizzed by places of business even faster. Her skin slick with sweat and red with adrenaline fueled blood.

It wasn't long until Makoto had been afflicted with a symptom of overexertion. Her mouth watered. Stomach contracted. Green around the gills. She attempted to combat this affliction only for it to worsen Makoto hastily ducked into an alleyway across the street.

HUUUUURK

Five sunny side up eggs and two pieces of toast ended up in a mushy pile on the pavement tucked into an alleyway in town. Makoto leaned against a brick wall gasping to catch her breath. Droplets of sweat from her brow crawled over her shut eyes. Makoto endured her body forcing her to dry heave for minutes before stopping.

"Guess that means workout's over."

Once her stomach settled, Makoto made her way into the local shop to buy herself a bottle of water and boba tea. Specifically strawberry flavored milk tea with extra tapioca pearls just the way she liked it. She took a seat outside the store and enjoyed the strawberry taste. Grayish white clouds rolled in from the west, shielding outdoor Tosa residents from the still unrelenting sun.

"That's better." Her voice light with relief.

Tosa, as a town, had its share of modern conveniences; restaurants, a train station leading in and out of town, roadways, supermarkets, and so on. When it comes to the quality of these places that's when the differences start to show. Stores usually don't carry anything expensive or fancy like you'd find in other places. The true beauty that lies in Tosa is the untouched forestry that spans for miles home to natural rivers and caves with a thriving animal economy. Then there's the temples and constructions made hundreds of years ago that have been preserved to please the tourists new to the area.

While deep in thought, Makoto's eyes wandered towards the local highschool where she reminisced of her times inside those walls. During those years Makoto protected her brother who never used martial arts outside the dojo. Whoever she spotted picking on him would wind up in the nurse's office. Sometimes the hospital. The constant violent altercations made it difficult for Makoto to fit in. She was too rough and tumble to hang out with the girls. The boys were too intimidated by previous beatings to give her the time of day.

Most of the time, she ended up in the principal's office due to fights started on her own behalf. Even students who went out of their way to avoid Makoto became victims of her hair triggered rage.

When not in trouble Makoto performed excellently in school exceeding her teachers expectations of a student with her attitude. Except for world studies.

Makoto's knowledge of the world outside Tosa came from the stories her father told of matches he fought around the world. He painted such a clear picture describing the material and color of the landmarks he saw, even going as far to recreate them by whittling miniature figurines from wood. The knowledge he provided didn't fare well on quizzes, yet Makoto insisted on his vision.

After Mokoto graduated and attention towards their father's dojo dwindled Makoto made the decision to drop out just after her third year.

Mokoto...

"That's right! He's visiting today!" Makoto jumped to her feet and felt the revenge of the muscle fibers she tore during her run. The adrenaline keeping her from feeling such pain wore off some time ago. However, Makoto enjoyed the feeling of torn muscle fibers as it signified that her muscles would grow as a result.

By the time Makoto made it back home, the clouds rolled in and blew the humidity away while shielding Tosa from the sun, Makoto spent the time before Mokoto's arrival to tidy up the house. Portraits on the wall were straightened out, the dishes were cleaned, incense burned to give the home a more pleasant smell. She made the final adjustments at the right time as her brother's car pulled up to the home.

"'Sup, sis."

"Hey, bro."

Makoto welcomed her brother with a hug. He stood a good number of inches taller than her. He would be just as tall as Masaru, but growing up Mokoto didn't have a man's appetite as their grandfather stated. He was sickly in build as a result. The glasses on his face came as a result of his love of computers growing strong over the years, forcing his vision to deteriorate. Nevertheless, Makoto had always been fond of Mokoto and loved him as much as she loved the rest of her family.

Makoto's eyes shot towards the plastic bag he carried, "Whaddya bring?"

"Our favorite."

Belonging to Makoto are two rolls of Eel Maki, Red Spicy Tobiko, and Fermented Soybean roll. Mokoto bought himself a couple rolls and pork filled dumplings. His favorite side dish. "I knew it was Sunday so I'd figure you'd be hungry right about now." And how right he was.

Together, they gave thanks then started their wonderful meals. After a suitable amount had been eaten Makoto found it appropriate to start a conversation, "How's things in America?"

"It's ok." Mokoto responded in between dumplings, "Just as long as we stay out of discussing the politics there. It's a circus I'm telling you." They both shared a laugh.

"I see the dojo is holding up alright." Makoto sighed, "Holding up as it's gonna get better when I get my hands on some real wood. From what I can get it just doesn't last long, y'know." Her brother perked up, "That reminds me. Have you thought more about it?" The tone in his voice got quieter. Makoto snorted, remembering what "it" was, "Saw it. Not sure what's so great about it."

"What's great about it is an opportunity to live a stable life. You've been scraping by week after week for so long. Living like this can't be good for you." Makoto's gaze turned cold, "I'm doing just fine." Despite the response, her brother continued, "I mean. You could enroll in the program, learn English, and come work for the company. You get started off near six figures. That's pretty good!"

Makoto's stubbornness kicked in. She crossed her arms with a steaming huff, "Doing this makes me happy."

"I know that but I want the best for you."

"You and I both know that I can't just leave fathers legacy behind."

"I know that what's happened isn't your fault and that you're giving your all. It's just that sometimes things aren't meant to be."

A slammed fist on the table silenced Mokoto's plea, Makoto shot to her feet, angered, "Just because you gave up and moved to America doesn't mean I want the same. When father passed I took it upon myself to restore the dojo and the Rindokan name to its former glory. I just can't leave it behind! You know that!" Makoto plopped back down.

Mokoto backed down, defeated, "I'm sorry..."

Twinges of anger pulsated in Makoto's neck. They sat silently for a while, unsure of how to continue the evening. That was until Makoto cooled down, "You said you wanted to get some belongings?"

"Ah, yes! That's right!" The two left the kitchen and into Mokoto's room just a few steps away. There Mokoto opened his closet door and gently began packing his stuff. Old clothes, notebooks, journals, comic books, and old toys. From the wall he repossessed posters and both his high school, and college diploma. The once lightly decorated room had been stripped clean of any signs of presence. Except for the gaming console still in the closet, "You're not going to take the Dreamcast?"

"Eh. I mostly play videogames on my computer." He zipped the duffel bag closed, "Keep it. You could use the time to get good enough at Puzzle Fighter to beat yours truly."

Makoto brought the entertainment system from the closet. Her fingers wiped away the built-up dust on one controller, "We did have a lot of good times playing this." Mokoto perked up, a smile on his face, "You know we did! We'd play it till our eyes bled after training." The siblings chuckled when the memories came flying back, "I remember the time you got so mad you chopped the TV in half!" Mokoto added.

"That's right!" A beaming smile shone on Makoto's face, "Dad was so impressed by my form he didn't make me work to buy a new one." It felt near impossible to not get sentimental about the past. Back when everything felt limitless and good times would last forever. An era of magic.

As time has the ability to heal all wounds, time created them as well. Silence had fallen between the two once again.

"Say. Just how long are you going to live in America anyhow? It's been such a long time." Makoto inquired. Mokoto cleaned his glasses, "Can't be too sure. If I were able to find a better offer here I would in a heartbeat. But..." Mokoto cleared his throat, "Something about the way America operates is just more relaxed." Mokoto picked up the duffel bag, "Well I guess that's everything."

Makoto jumped in his path, "Unless you wanna spar for old time's sake?" Her brother laughed, stepping away, "Oh please no. I've gotten soft just sitting around the office all day."

"Fine," Makoto gave him a firm dig in the shoulder anyway. "Wow. You have gotten soft."

With his belongings packed into the trunk, Mokoto was set to head back to America. The siblings embraced once more before seeing each other off.

"Have a safe trip home!"

Back inside the house, Makoto couldn't help, but to be bothered by the presence of overwhelming silence. Upon looking back at Mokoto's room bare of anything, she leaned against the doorframe feeling numb. Clean and quiet. Similar to what happened to her father's room after he had passed. She crumbled up the pamphlet in her hand and tossed it inside the room just to give it a little life.

At times like this, Makoto had a special place to go to receive guidance.

The recently replaced metal of which the dojo door rolled along rusted a great deal over the past few days. Makoto applied more force to the door making it move and release an unpleasant squeal as it did. Regardless of Makoto's constant repairs to the dojo the materials she repaired with were cheap, succumbing to failure quickly. Half of the light bulbs needed to be replaced as well as the sign out front now that the wood rotted out. Forestry debris fell in from the hole in the roof that was made after a man from Hong Kong dressed in a pink gi tried to challenge her honor. Needless to say it was a challenge effortlessly won.

Makoto noted to save these repairs for another day. She turned towards the closet where inside a shrine dedicated to her late father was built. Inside were his old memorabilia, photos,prized possessions of his, and trophies Makoto earned from martial arts competitions. Makoto placed two lit sticks of incense before a photo of him and sat silently.

Unbeknownst to Makoto a pair of eyes watched her every move inside the dojo. Utilizing her ninja ways, Ibuki managed to track down Makoto's whereabouts. The ninja was able to observe Makoto through the human sized hole in the roof.

"This is what she does with her free time? Burning incense in front of a photo? Just who is that anyways?"

"Father, if you think I should carry on with fulfilling your dreams. Please. Please. Give me a sign." The outpouring of emotion proved too strong, forcing Makoto to choke. Her voice trembled and lowered. Ibuki leaned forward to hear better. Invested. Perhaps too invested. Ibuki applied too much pressure and a piece of wood gave in causing several roof shingles to clatter to the dojo floor. Ibuki flung herself back, lost balance, and tumbled off the roof into the bushes.

"A sign! Yes!" Makoto jumped to her feet full of joy, "I promise to carry out your mission, Father! I won't disappoint you!"

Through an incident of sheer coincidence Makoto's faith in her own success had been restored.