WARNINGS: None


Lucky Child

Chapter 14:

"Girl of Many Lives"


Everything glared pale blue, like when the sun dazzles your eyes with annoying phantom lights and you can't see for, like, five minutes. Ugh. Genkai's face swam into clarity as I blinked the shine away, but slowly, like an image loading on a bad internet connection.

Not that the internet was available in this day and age. My metaphors were lost on everyone by me.

…not that I had the skills to do it, but should I invent the internet in this reality? Write Harry Potter? Create Facebook?

Tempting, but something told me gigantic alternations like those went against even Hiruko's lax rules.

Genkai didn't help me sit up, but she did give me a minute to rub my eyes and collect myself before speaking in a voice like a cat's growl. "Returned to the land of the living, have you?"

"I guess." I mopped a hand over my face. "What happened?"

"I knocked you out."

My glare could not be contained. "J'accuse!"

Deep lines folded her brow. "What?"

"Oh. Nothing. I take it back." Habitual saying from my first life, courtesy of a French grandmother. I waved a hand, expression accusatory. "I barely saw you move!"

"But you did see me," Genkai said. I knew better than to believe she looked impressed. "In fact, you even tried to block."

"Sure. Tried and failed."

"Fall down seven times, stand up eight." The proverb rolled from her tongue like water from a fall. "You managed to cushion the blow well enough to avoid getting killed. That's not nothing. It's not exactly something, but it's not nothing, either." A smirk. "Looks like you're not completely useless."

Oh. Wow. Wow! That was almost a compliment! I began to let myself believe she was impressed, after all—but her wording bugged me. I blinked, parsing out her phrasing in my head, and when it all clicked my jaw dropped.

"You—you were trying to kill me?!" I levied a finger toward her face. "I take back the take-back. J'accuse, after all!"

Genkai snorted at my theatrics. "Girl, make no mistake. If I'd intended to kill you, you'd be dead." Hair fluffed like grey-pink candy floss when she shook her head. "You saw the blow coming and defended yourself. Let me guess. Aikido?"

"Yeah." Took a minute to realize how impressive she was. My eyes bugged out of my skull. "Wait. You could tell I took aikido from one failed dodge?"

A shrewd pursing of the lips preceded: "And you've been taking lessons for…six years?"

My bugging eyes adopted cartoonish proportions. "H-how could you tell that from one failed dodge?

"I'm old, not blind." Another long, measured look up and down my body. "Your sensei has totally failed you, teaching you tori, but I imagine your command of uke is pathetic. It's a safe bet your parents put you into aikido lessons, and they chose the style of martial art for you, at that."

"I'm going to ask this again and I really don't mean the statement to be rhetorical but oh well: You could tell all that from one failed dodge?!"

My babbling voice cracked and squeaked, shock and awe and panic destroying my composure. I scrambled to my feet as my face heated, trying not to listen to Genkai's hacking laughter. Safe bet I looked like a ripe tomato just then.

"I know you're psychic, but can you read minds?" I grumbled as I brushed off my clothes. "Seriously, this is uncanny."

"Not really. Aikido is a favored choice of worrisome parents." A noncommittal shrug. "Low risk. Teaches a child to fall properly and how to take a hit. Teaches self-defense, but doesn't prioritize attacking at low levels. And it teaches aggression-management as opposed to fighting intent. Ideal for troublesome youngsters in need of an outlet."

She…wow. Wow. That's pretty much exactly why my mother chose it—or why I suspected she chose it, at least. I'd learned over the years that lots of rambunctious kids were sent to Obuchi's dojo for the exact reasons Genkai described. I'd never been a troublemaker, but it made sense my mom would pick a martial art that revolved around self-defense in lieu of an attack-based art. She didn't want me turning into Yusuke.

Genkai reached into the front of her robe and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. I braced myself for an onslaught of smoke. Hadn't like cigarettes in my past life due to asthma, hated them in this life due to habit.

"Much as it's good for kids, and much as it teaches a solid foundation of katas and mental toughness, aikido suffers from a lack of realism in training." Genkai tapped the carton against her palm, knocking loose a cigarette. "Since it relies on memorization of katas instead of improvised moves, it doesn't do jack shit to prepare you for actual fights." She perched a cigarette in the corner of her mouth. "You probably asked for karate lessons, and aikido was the compromise."

I laughed, helplessly. "Yeah. You're right. Down to the last detail."

"And I'm right in saying you've only been in a handful of real fights, aren't I."

It wasn't a question. She knew everything. No use hiding from this monster of a woman. I ducked my head, shame and affirmation battling for dominance. The only person I'd ever scrapped with was Yusuke, and good a fighter though he was, he used rudimentary strikes—a straight right hook was his go-to. I'd long since learned all the ways he'd attack. Countering them was just a matter of habit, at this point, and nobody else would fight me to give me practice. Kuwabara probably wouldn't hit me even if I begged, and most dudes would just let me hit them without fighting back when I chanced upon a potential sparring partner. Stupid chivalry, ruining my chances at a good fight. Hell, I'd debated dressing up as a dude and picking fights just so I could—

"I take it you're the only girl in your class," Genkai said around the cigarette. She'd pulled a metal lighter from somewhere; it rolled over her knuckles, winking in the sun even as it danced. "Not too many people willing to fight you, I take it." A dry laugh. "I hate chivalry. Sometimes you just have to hit first, prove you won't break if they fight back. Beat that you're not some delicate flower they have to protect into their thick skulls."

It took every ounce of my stunned willpower to mutter: "Did I ask you earlier if you could read minds, or am I just going crazy?"

"You asked. And the answer is no, I can't. And no, you're not, for the record." She looked almost surprised by that. "You're not crazy. I checked, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't actually wondering, but…" The pieces fell together like magnets in love. "Wait. That light. Was that the Spirit Wave?"

Her smirk confirmed my theory before I finished asking the question. My skin flushed and cooled as adrenaline pulsed to life.

"Why use it on me?" I asked. The thought of being subjected to something so powerful would've given me a panic attack in my old life. Thankfully, Keiko's body held firm. "What would using it on me accomplish? I'm no threat!"

"Don't you know the Wave is more than just an attack?" Genkai said. "I thought you knew my legend, girl."

"I do know it!" That sounded like a whine even to me. "I know the Wave can heal as well as hurt. But I didn't need much healing, did I?" I glared again. "Or were you actually trying to kill me for real, after all?"

"No." The lighter slipped between her palm and fingers, sparking as she thumbed the catch. "You knew things you couldn't about my life. I wasn't going to take chances, believing your story without proof."

"And the Wave proved I was telling the truth?"

"Yes. I used it to revive you. In the process, I saw the color of your psyche." The lighter snapped shut; the cigarette remained unlit. "Your soul is clean. Your mind is clear. You told the truth, and you're not being manipulated, either."

A little insulting, that she hadn't trusted me at first blush—but wait, why was I surprised by this?

"I'd say I'm offended you didn't take me at my word, but in retrospect, you did believe my story pretty quickly." Ugh. I was losing my touch. "Trusting someone so soon is out of character for you. Why didn't I see it?"

"Because no matter how many lives you've lived, you're still just a teenage girl." Her roguish grin took years off her face, somehow, igniting a playful spark in her dark eye. "I just pretended to believe you until I could verify whether or not you were playing me. But you're not. Not many people can play me, least of all you."

Genkai reached into her robe again. She stowed away the lighter and pulled out a pen and scrap of paper. Did she have a Walmart in her gi or what?

"Where did you say you were from?" she asked.

"I didn't say, but Sarayashiki. Why?"

She jotted something on the paper, folded it, and with a quick snap of her wrist sent it flying toward my face. I grabbed it in time to avoid a papercut on my nose, but only barely.

Uehara Hideki, and then a phone number.

Genkai's handwriting, neat and spindly, had inscribed the words in both hiragana and kanji. I stared at them until my eyes watered.

Who was Uehara Hideki?

Before I could ask I heard a light scratching noise, and then the acrid scent of tobacco wafted past. I looked up. Genkai held the cigarette between two fingers, tip glowing and smoking, other hand shoved in her pocket. Her posture screamed boredom, but her eyes…

"That's the name of a sensei in your city. One who won't treat you like a weak little child," she said. "Find him. Train with him. He'll beat you black and blue. You'll want to quit, or just keel over and die, but you can't. Not if you really want what you say you want."

The old psychic took a drag and blew the resulting smoke out her nose. It coiled around her face the way the incense had coiled around the Buddha's, like a cat's tail lashing with restrained energy. Part of me was disappointed she hadn't offered to train me herself, but then again, why would she? She owed me nothing.

Besides. It's not like my parents would let me quit school and live with an old lady in the mountains. Like Genkai said, I was just a teenage girl, beholden to parental whims and familial obligation. Having a sensei closer to home would suit me just fine.

Now, that still left the question of whether or not Genkai would make me psychic…

"Take every last lesson he offers," Genkai said. Her lips curled back over her teeth. "If you're up for a trip to hell, tell him I sent you, and he'll go even harder."

"OK," I said. "OK, but why—"

"If you want to be psychic, aikido isn't a bad place to start."

The words died on my tongue. Genkai took another drag. Exhaled. When the smoke drifted past, I held my breath. I'd have to sneak inside later tonight. Mom would go bananas if she smelled smoke on me.

"You're well aware of aikido's focus on the flow of momentum and energy in the body," she said. "Knowing how kinetic energy works in human anatomy is what enables aikido users to defend themselves and control an opponent's movements."

"I know," I said.

"Don't be arrogant. You haven't earned it." Another long drag. "Did you know knowledge of kinetic flow translates to knowledge of spiritual energy?"

Breath tangled on my tongue. Genkai chuckled. Her eyes fell closed.

"They've lost touch with the old ways," she murmured. "Aikido users used to call that energy ki. Perhaps now they think ki too New Age for their tastes."

I got the sense she was speaking to herself, so I said nothing. Soon enough she opened her eyes and regarded me again.

"What's new was once old," she said. "You know that better than anyone, girl of many lives."

I smiled. She took another drag.

"Spirit energy is more than just raw power. It's a system that keeps the body running." One gnarled finger pointed my way, tracing a path up and down my limbs. "It twines into the muscles and bones and blood in an unending, flowing loop. Knowledge of this flow is the gateway to ki manipulation. Learn to manipulate ki, or spirit energy, and you can be what most would call a psychic. Understand ki, and you understand psychic power."

Her eyes softened, thoughtful as she looked at me. Not for the first time, I wondered at what she saw.

Genkai said, "Aikido has already given you a head start on developing psychic power."

My heart cavorted into my mouth like a mountain goat on speed.

"So you're going to make me a psychic?" I blurted. "Genkai-san, that's—"

Her scowl could melt stone. "Did I say I was going to make you psychic?"

"Well, no, but the implication—"

"I have no idea how to awaken psychic powers in a normal human."

For a second her words did not sink in. I stood there with my mouth open as a cool wind stripped by and set my pigtails to tossing. Somewhere to my left, a bird chirped, music crisp and out of tune.

"Sorry." The word did not sound like an apology. "I can't do what you want."

"Then—then what was all of that for?"

Something in my face, or maybe my voice, set Genkai's brow to wrinkling. The singing bird sounded like it was screaming, the wind felt like cold hands on my neck and chest, every brush of hair on my skin stung like nettle weed.

"Why were you baiting me?" I said. I hated how my voice trembled, hated how my hands shook, hated how a limping, impotent sadness lurched to attention inside my chest. "Why did you test me and bait me and give me a goddamn sensei if you were just—"

Her mild tone, so matter-of-fact and sensible, cut the air like claws.

"I could tell from just one look at your stupid, stubborn face that you won't stop searching until you find a way to get what you want," she said. "And when you find it, it's best you be prepared."

Her quiet words silenced the bird, and the wind, and the sadness. The feelings inside me deflated like punctured balloons. Genkai's steady gaze was like tides beating on the shore—unavoidable, quiet, and powerful in its persistency.

My hot anger just couldn't stand against her cool authority.

We stood in silence until my hands stilled and my breathing returned to normal, and the off-key bird sounded like it was singing again.

"Do you have any idea where I should look next?" I asked. My voice, I was pleased to note, held steady. "Books, people, places?"

She shook her head. "No. What you're asking for is not part of my expertise."

This time, when she smiled, it was different. Like maybe she was rooting for me. But that might've been a delusion. I wasn't sure.

"Keep looking, girl," she said. "Find Uehara. Take every lesson he offers. And never stop looking."

She turned toward the temple.

"Good luck," she said, and she walked away.

"Genkai—why are you helping me?"

She stopped walking. I clapped a hand over my mouth. I hadn't used an honorific in that outburst. Ugh, stupid me! Hopefully she didn't take offence…

Luckily she took my impropriety in stride, and merely shrugged.

"You're interesting," she said. "And in my old age, I've grown rather bored."

"If you're bored, maybe you should take on an apprentice," I suggested. "Pass on that Orb like you've been planning."

"Why?" A sardonic twinkle lit her eyes. "Think it should be passed to you?"

I felt myself pale. "Oh. No! God, no."

"Thought not. Then who?"

The ground at my feet looked very interesting all of a sudden. "Oh. Um. You'll know when you find him."

"'Him'? So you're admitting I'm going to find an apprentice." Her laughter crackled against my skin. "Careful, girl. You just gave me a clue."

Schooling my features into careful, lofty neutrality, I declared: "I can neither confirm nor deny whether or not you will, in future, seek an apprentice. That decision falls to you, and you alone."

She snorted. "You're a poor liar."

"I can neither confirm nor deny—"

"Cut the crap, girl. Just tell me what he's like and be done with it."

One foot tapped impatiently at the flagstones as she glared. For a second I had no idea what to say, or if I should just repeat my confirm-nor-deny line, or if I should prepare to dodge because was she going to throw that burning cigarette at my face?

Yusuke's face popped unbidden into my head.

What—you scared of a little old lady? his image teased. Big, tough, fancy-fighting-lessons Keiko?

I closed my eyes and tried very hard not to laugh.

"He'll be the best, worst apprentice you'll ever have," I said. "And that's all I can say."

Genkai looked magnificently unimpressed. "Sounds annoying."

"Very. Very annoying. But he'll be a good cure for old-age-induced-boredom, that much I can promise you."

I'd already said too much, I feared. Before she could ask anything else, I ducked my head and dipped a low, formal bow at the woman who would become my best friend's teacher.

"Genkai-san. Thank you very much for your help today. Your guidance and patience are gifts I will not soon forget," I said—and I meant every word. "I can't express the depth of my gratitude. I appreciate your direction, and I will repay your efforts as best as I'm able, whenever you should have need of me."

One moment passed. Then another. Sun slanted through the trees, limning the stones of the courtyard silver.

"What's your name?"

Spine spasmed. I jerked upright. Genkai watched with patient eyes.

"Your real one, I mean," she said. "Not that Keiko crap you said before."

My lungs stopped working, then.

Out of nowhere, my throat ached.

My eyes pricked.

Genkai looked as surprised as I felt when I began to cry.

"Was it something I said?" she deadpanned as one tear, then another, slipped unwanted down my cheeks. I stifled a sob with a fist, chest heaving with repressed moans. My throat burned like I'd taken a shot of whiskey. "I know I've got a sharp tongue, but I didn't even use it."

"No, um," I said.

My voice cracked. I took a shuddering breath, and though the breath helped ease the sobs, my eyes kept watering. My chest ached like the first pang of love. A hiccup made my cheeks flush.

"It's, it's not you," I grated out. "It's nothing you said. It's just—"

I hung my head.

"Sorry, Genkai-san. I'm sorry."

Tears dotted the flagstones dark grey. Genkai let me sniffle and sob and cry until the tears stopped coming, silent in the presence of my raw sentiment. My eyes felt gritty, like I'd thrown dirt into them, but eventually I blinked away the pain.

"You're the first person who's wanted to know my name in 14 years," I said with my sandpaper tongue. "My real one, anyway. Forgive me. I got emotional."

"Don't get sappy," Genkai snapped, finally out of patience when it came to my melodrama. "Sentiment gives me indigestion. I just like to know who I'm speaking to, that's all." She waved her hand, cigarette ash puffing. "Your name, girl. Out with it."

"Sorry, Genkai, but I don't remember my name." A resigned shrug. "Everything else about my past, I remember. Just not that."

I half expected her to regale me with criticism of my own uselessness, but instead, the aged spiritualist said nothing. In fact, her impatience vanished, replaced by a look of blank surprised I'd not yet seen grace the old woman's features.

It didn't suit her. Genkai was meant to know things, not be taken by surprise.

Her eyes fell closed, after a moment. Thin lips pursed into an even thinner line.

"To lose one's name…that must be a terrible fate," she said.

Her tone, compassionate and quiet, set my eyes back to pricking. I swallowed the lump in my neck.

"I manage," I said.

"Yes. I can see that."

Genkai's eyes opened. They trained on me. Her chin jutted up and forward, haughty and imperious as a feudal warlord.

"If you remember your name, I'd like to know it," she said, and then she turned to the temple once more. "Goodbye, girl. I assume we'll meet again. In the meantime, I'll keep an eye out for my new apprentice."

I didn't stop her as she walked away. I stood there, empty and impassive, until she grasped the temple door and pulled it aside with a rattle. I didn't expect her to look at me again—but then her eyes glittered as she glanced over her shoulder.

"Stay out of trouble," she told me...but then she grinned. "Or don't. Makes no difference to me. But whatever you do—never stop looking."

She vanished into the temple.

I stood in her courtyard, bird singing in the trees, until the sun dipped low over the roof of her home and stung my eyes.

"Goodbye," I whispered.

Then I walked out of the courtyard, down the temple steps, and made my own way home—where I would never stop looking, just like Genkai said.


NOTES

Well, that's not what Not-Keiko wanted to hear, but this solution was just too easy. How do you think Keiko will seek out psychic powers next? Genkai was right: Keiko will not stop searching.

Yusuke dies soon, for the record. And then a twist I don't think you're expecting occurs…

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