Standard disclaimers apply--should be quite obvious I don't own any othe recognizable characters.
Chapter 2: Arrival-University and Dojo
Blossom sighed and dropped her suitcase on the floor. After the plane had landed, the three had rented a taxi and toured New Krox. During lunch at a cafe, they decided to get to their respective dorms and schools. They planned to meet in a week at the World Library which was right next to The Ricotta, an Italian cafe.
All the information about her classes and living arrangements had already been mailed to her several weeks ago. Blossom looked around her rooms. It was a double dorm on Stratford grounds. It contained only a medium size bedroom with enough space for a bunk bed, two desks and an electrical outlet. There was one window in the center of the wall next to the bunks. Her room was painted a soft, dusty red. The bunks were supplied with old, rose-hued coverlets.
For each floor of the dorm building- there were ten in hers- there was an average size community kitchen with a refrigerator, and one bathroom for every three dorm rooms. That would make four bathrooms on a floor. Each room had its own sink and shower stall. I hope my dorm mate is easy to get along with.
Looking out her window, Blossom saw the old, ivy-covered, stone buildings of her home for the next four years. She smiled and was lost in reverie as she dreamed of what she might do on such an illustrious campus.
Bam!
Blossom jumped in shock and almost reached flying height before she caught hold of herself and came back down in gravity's hold like an ordinary person. The person who had flung open the door so hard that it had bounced off the wall on the rebound slowly surveyed the room and its occupant, "Oh, shit. This room is too damn small for one fucking person, and they call this a double!"
Blossom's left hand flew to her mouth, thoroughly shocked. The girl was grinning at her, showing straight, white teeth which shone against her porcelain-clear skin. Her lips were cupid-bowed and the entire doll-like face surrounded by gleaming gold hair. She was short, barely 5 3', but she was built with all the correct attributes and a bit more. Blossom was astonished at how such a delicate looking creature could utter such crass words.
The girl stuck out a hand, "Hey. I'm Loriel Hollindal. Stupid name, but my parents named me after some freaking ancestor or somethin', so call me Lorie, okay?"
Giving herself a mental kick, Blossom shook the offered hand with a smile, "Hello, Lorie. I'm Blossom Utonium. You can take your pick of the bunks, I don't really care."
Lorie grinned, "Sweet! I want the top one!"
Blossom had to duck when Lorie's sticker-covered suitcase flew past her on its way to the upper bed. Lorie had disappeared back out the door, leaving Blossom standing in the middle of the small room, wondering how much more luggage such a small girl could have.
Buttercup tried not to be nervous as she stood in front of the imposing iron gates that led to the Yaminagi Dojo. Stone walls that stood higher then her surrounded the estate, making it impossible for her to see the interior. Taking a deep breath, Buttercup walked closer to the gate and pressed the doorbell. It was a charming little button that some smith had cast to resemble a sun with a face.
Soon, she could hear hurried footsteps. Patiently, she waited. In due time, a red-faced young man punched in the code and the iron gates opened. Seeing how unfit he was, Buttercup asked bluntly, "Are you a student?"
The teen grinned and ran a quick hand through his thatch of curly orange hair, "Does it show that much?"
Buttercup shrugged.
The boy slapped his forehead. "Where are my manners?" He stuck out his hand and pasted a solemn expression on his face, "Konnichiwa, and welcome to the Yaminagi Dojo of New Krox. I am Gerald Keller. How do you do?"
Buttercup politely shook his hand, "Buttercup Utonium." She raised an inquiring eyebrow, "You speak Japanese?"
Sheepishly, Gerald shook his head, "No, it's only a couple of common phrases I picked up from the teachers and students who do speak it. I'm actually here as a clerk to help with all the paperwork."
That made sense. Buttercup nodded. "Okay, Gerald. So where will I be staying?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Follow me." He looked apologetic at her as they strolled down the asphalt driveway, "Sorry if I made you wait, but I'm a bit of a scatter-brain." He looked at the heavy looking bags Buttercup was holding. "I'd offer to carry one of those for you, but I'm afraid my body isn't up to it."
Buttercup grinned at him, "That's okay, I could carry 'em myself." She glanced at the distant dojo. "Can you tell me more about this school?"
Gerald lit up. Apparently, this was something he liked and was good at. "Let's see . . ." His voice took on a type of lecturing tone, as if he did it often. "Founded in the early 1900s, The Yaminagi Dojo was among the first three to set up shop in New Krox, which was just Krox back then. The other two schools of the martial arts are The Daidouka Dojo and The Kimakio Dojo. All three have been serious competitors in international fighting contests and conventions. Currently, The Kimakio Dojo is the top dog, but Daidouka is rumored to have high hopes on a new student-prodigy.
"Of the three Kimakio is also the largest and most well-appointed, but I am proud to say The Yaminagi Dojo is the most open-minded. We teach not only hand-to-hand combat, but specialize in weaponry as well--traditional Japanese ones such as Kendo. The Daidouka has in its prestigious libraries, ancient techniques that are extremely rare and unique."
"Huh." Despite herself, Buttercup was impressed.
Gerald looked earnestly at her, "There's a few more things you need to know about what you're going into. I've been here for three years, so I think I know the ropes."
Buttercup was relieved, "Good. All right, I'm listening. Shoot."
Gerald himself was happy that the Powerpuff did not take offense when he offered advice. "One really important thing is the form of address. For teachers, always attach a sensei or sama or san at the end of their name, and only call them by their last name." He thought for a moment. "Unless some of them like Yoshiko-san says you can use their first. The students usually don't care, but on the safe side, call all the ones who are older upperclassman. Some of the no-talent hacks have a lot of money and are really rank-happy."
Buttercup wasn't surprise. An awful lot of egotistic villains back home were like that.
Gerald was still talking, "If you like the end name sort of thing, close friends are chan- that applies to both female and male. Kun, on the other hand is reserved for males only. Usually, only the genuine Japanese students do that." They were fast approaching the Japanese style school and Gerald was speeding up as well. Buttercup wondered where he got all the air. "Address all adults by san and the owner of the school by sama, you hear? Watasi-sama is a real stickler for manners.
"Days are split into thirds. One third for the fighting, one third for book work, and the last third is extra studying, free time, or chores, depending on your behavior and your teachers. No indecisiveness, must know exactly what your courses you will pursue."
They were now at the front doors.
"One last word before you go on in to Hikaru. She's the receptionist and has the sharpest tongue I know of. She's also one of the really good Japanese speakers and has been here since she was five. If you need any help, ask her. She has a soft spot for newbies like you. Have a good day!"
"Thanks!" Buttercup yelled as the easy-going young man jogged away. Gerald waved good-bye to her as he went.
Taking a deep, calming breath, Buttercup pushed open the glass doors. The fragile entranceway opened to a tiled lobby that screamed "SOPHISTICATION" and backed it up with lots of stainless steel. Instead of the cutting edge, contemporary art that Buttercup liked to see, the marble walls were hung with scrolls covered with calligraphy and mountain scapes of plain, dark, inks. Buttercup took this in passing as she walked as steadily as she could toward the polished granite of the reception desk. A girl with short, professionally cut, black hair was talking on a phone and scribbling something down at the same time was sitting behind it. A nametag pinned to her pale red business suit proclaimed her a honorable employee of the Yaminagi Dojo. Beneath the black words, someone had carelessly scrawled "Fouri, Hikaru" with a dark purple marker in the white space provided.
Putting her bags down, Buttercup waited impatiently for the woman to finish her conversation. Though it was interesting to hear an exchange of words in the rapid-fire language of the Japanese, it gets boring if understanding doesn't come with it. Finally, the girl chanced to look up from her furious scribbling and hastily finished the call. Placing the phone in its cradle, the receptionist smiled at Buttercup, "Hello. Forgive me if I had not noticed you before. How may I help you?"
"S'okay. Name's Buttercup Utonium. I'm enrolling?"
Hikaru opened a drawer and took out a thick file. Flipping through it she slid her finger down the names. "Ah, yes. Number 54789301 from Townsville. Welcome to the big city."
Remembering their trip the Citysville when the Professor had gotten a new job and the bridge incident, Buttercup sincerely hoped that the Dojo didn't have perfect records of their past as the Powerpuff Girls. Hikaru had flicked on a computer and was running down a list of things. For awhile, the room was silent except for clicking of the keyboard and the mouse. When the printer buzzed and started to spit out sheets of type covered paper, Buttercup almost jumped in surprise.
Taking up the stack, Hikaru reached under her desk and placed an "I will be back in a few minutes" sign on the countertop. "Follow me please. I will take you around the dojo so you'll know enough to find your way."
As they passed door after door, Hikaru named them so quickly, Buttercup wasn't sure whether she had heard correctly. "Er . . . The dying room?"
Startled, Hikaru looked at her. Then she laughed, "I'm sorry, was I talking too fast?"
Buttercup nodded, trying to not feel embarrassed, "I'm afraid so."
"Sorry, it's just that Japanese was my first language and because of that, I seem to speak English quickly. Here, since I don't seem to be helping you much, this'll keep you up to date on your location. And that was the formal dining room." She handed Buttercup and map. As Buttercup oriented the map and herself, she shuffled through the stack of papers until she found the one she was looking for. "Ah ha!"
Buttercup looked askance at her. Hikaru ignored it and waved the paper under her nose, "This is you schedule, okay? I'll take you to your room and let you dump everything down. Then I'll show you your first class, which is . . ." She peered at the piece of paper, "Well, I feel for you- You have Yaziko-sensei for your basic body work."
Buttercup was puzzled, "Basic . . . Body work . . . ?"
Hikaru grinned at her, "It doesn't matter if you had been training since birth, everyone goes through Basic with Yaziko-sensei or Utaki-san." Her eyes took on a slightly starry look, "Oh, Utaki-san . . ."
Buttercup politely looked away- she was used to this. Back home, Bubbles was usually gushing over one boy or the other and even the intelligent Blossom had the occasional crush. Buttercup sometimes wondered why she, herself, never felt the slightest thing toward members of the opposite sex other than friendship at the most. It was a little discomforting, though, to see a woman of Hikaru's apparent self-control show such blatant emotion.
Hikaru seemed to come back down to Earth after a while, but she seemed to be a bit dazed as she led Buttercup to a door that looked like identical to all the others she had just past. "This is Watasi-sama's office. He's the current owner of the school. He'll take over from now." The receptionist walked off in a stupor, leaving Buttercup to stare at the ominously white door. Taking a deep breath, Buttercup reached for the dull, bronze knob and turned it.
Sorry about the year-long lag, but junior year was the worst!
Review, if you can be so kind.