"You want me to what?" Faith asked incredulously as she and Miyoko were sparring with bokken. Her momentary loss of concentration was costly; an expertly delivered strike made her left arm numb.
It shouldn't have become as a surprise to her that Miyoko had a Master's degree in Psychology and was now aiming for her PhD in that field. Knowingly and unconsciously, and in little subtle bits, she had revealed more of her underlying issues and traumas to the young woman than she might have been comfortable with, had she known the full extent with which Miyoko could piece together a somewhat coherent outline of her traumatic past. The underlying question, "What are you so angry at?" was constantly there, in the background.
The t'ai chi and these gruelling training sessions had perhaps shaken some of that buried baggage loose, manifesting itself in her frequent nightmares. Since her accident, none of them had been violent enough to cause her any severe physical symptoms but flashes of her mother, her numerous foster families, her life on the streets and what had happened to Diane sometimes still made her wake up in cold sweat. It was a vicious cycle; the t'ai chi and meditation helped her centre herself and calm her mind but at the same time the long-buried stuff was finding its way back to the foreground.
"I want you to wear a blindfold, day and night, until I tell you to take it off," Miyoko repeated after "sheathing" her bokken.
"Why?" Giles and Gwen had occasionally made Buffy and her spar with one of them blindfolded but this was taking it to another level altogether.
Miyoko gave her a level stare. "The easy answer, Sureiyā-san, would be 'because I tell you to', but you won't be satisfied with that, will you?"
Several responses with varying levels of stinginess came instinctively to Faith's mind but she was slowly learning to move away from "say what you think" to "think what you say".
"Ok," she nodded simply.
"Ok?" Miyoko asked in surprise. Even with the knowledge of Faith's changed overall attitude, this was new.
"Sure. Now?"
"There's no better time than 'now'," Miyoko nodded and took the bokken from Faith. With that she went inside the mansion.
It was a beautiful, clear day, so Faith let her gaze sweep over the landscape and the swiftly moving clouds above.
"'Take a look to the sky just before you die. It's the last time you will'," she muttered, quoting Metallica, as Miyoko re-emerged with a stretch of black cloth in her hands.
After the blindfold had been tied around her head, Faith was in complete darkness. "Now what?" she asked.
"Now, let your other senses guide you," Miyoko answered softly. Her voice came from only a few inches away. The next Faith knew, warm lips had covered her own.
She had kissed and been kissed with her eyes closed before, but this was somehow totally different. She tasted a faint hint of cherry on Miyoko's lips. Her heartbeat increased by at least a margin of three and she was fairly sure she hadn't consciously meant to curl her toes. All this she experienced in little more than a second or two.
"Well?" she heard Miyoko ask quietly.
"You taste of cherries," Faith whispered.
"It took you this long to notice? What about those enhanced Slayer senses?"
"I guess I have been too preoccupied to notice that before."
"See?" Miyoko grinned jubilantly. "You've already learned something new."
Then Faith felt Miyoko's breath close to her ear.
"That was beautiful, you comparing me to cherries. Domo arigato gozaimasu, Faith-chan."
With that Faith felt Miyoko's presence withdraw and move away. She felt suddenly more alone than in a long time.
Shinzo was a ghost. That was the only sane conclusion Rowan could come to as the sensei time and again was not there when his punch or kick should have landed solidly. In the past he had mostly fought against various demons (and a Slayer) who could and would rely on their overall stamina and constitution to handle any attacks that penetrated their defences. But not Shinzo. He followed the philosophy that the best defence is to not get hit at all.
Rowan himself could take more punishment than a human and still stay active, but less than a master vampire or a warrior demon... and much less than a Slayer. So far, Shinzo had been able to get a few hits through against his none. They were sparring/fighting behind closed doors, just the two of them, so they could really cut it loose. Shinzo's black belt indicated his 7th dan -level mastery in Tōde, the traditional Okinawan martial art; Rowan still – dutifully – wore his green belt.
Scissor kick, back-hand strike, crescent kick, elbow strike, reverse punch... all delivered perfectly without telegraphing... each of them just a hair's width away from actually hitting Shinzo. And then, Rowan found himself falling backwards to the tatami. He managed to turn the fall into a backward roll to avoid Shinzo's knee which hit the tatami just where his chest had been a split-second earlier.
While still in the middle of the roll, Rowan concentrated briefly on Air and yanked Shinzo's feet from under him. From a crouch he jumped next to the prone sensei and slashed with the side of his palm at Shinzo's throat. He halted his hand half-an-inch away from actual contact.
When Shinzo tapped the tatami thrice with his palm, Rowan allowed himself to relax.
"What was that?" Shinzo asked curiously a minute later as they were facing each other in the seiza posture.
"The little something extra that can be the deciding factor between life and death out there," Rowan answered with a straight face. "Win at all costs."
"I see," Shinzo nodded. "Let me ask you a question. Why did you choose jūjutsu?"
"After I came to Sunnydale, I decided to seek proficiency in a recognised martial art," Rowan explained. "I visited the local dojo a few times, and the only teacher who caught my interest taught jujutsu. I never came to ask how he came to be an instructor in a small town like Sunnydale, and I'm sure his regular students don't see anything special beyond his normal teaching level. So, there's nothing more to it than wanting to be taught by the best there was."
"Well said," Shinzo nodded approvingly. He stayed silent for almost a minute before continuing. "Rowan, I have a proposition for you. Let me teach you for a few months, and those will be hard months, and by the end of it you will have earned a 5th dan black belt in Tōde. That will be within my prerogative. Anything further and you'll have to go to Okinawa." When Rowan opened his mouth to protest, Shinzo quieted him with a raised hand. "As a compensation, I will go with you to Glasgow next week to the dojo of a friend of mine where he will sit your blue belt test in jūjutsu."
"I'm deeply honoured, Sensei," Rowan responded with a deep bow. "May I ask...?"
A sad smile briefly caressed Shinzo's mouth. "I'm old, Rowan, old and childless. I have no-one who would carry on my legacy, and it's been a long time since I've met someone whom I consider worthy of that. Besides, if you will forgive an old man a selfish wish, but through you I would have a chance at a little piece of immortality."
What Shinzo was offering him sincerely was both touching and, basically, everything Rowan could have asked for. "Yes," he answered without hesitation.
As Hellmouths went, the Cleveland one had turned out to be somewhat of a disappointment. There were vampires and minor demons roaming the cemeteries, sure, but not nearly to the scale of Sunnydale. 'Maybe it's something in the water,' Xander mused as he, Jay and Bob were walking their patrol route through the Lake View cemetery with Father O'Shaughnessy watching their progress from a short distance away.
The night's tally so far was two dusted vampires (or B.S. / bloodsuckers) as the talking member of the Dynamic Duo liked to call them. The holy water filled tranq darts had proven to be very effective on multiple occasions; only a few times the heavy leather coats worn by their targets had been enough to deflect their ammo. But the combination of two crosses and a stake had been enough to solve these cases without any significant injuries to their party.
It had been a month since Xander made his decision about returning back home. Back then he had given himself a week or two more to stay in Cleveland but, as it was, there he still was. Every day was supposed to be the one when he finally packed his stuff in his car and hit the road westwards back to California.
He looked surreptitiously at his two companions. Jay, tall and silent, walked next to him between himself and Bob. Despite Jay's apparent mental block that prevented him from speaking, he was what Xander would call a genuinely "nice guy" without reservations. But there was also another side to him. Despite his apparent shyness, he was absolutely fearless in the field. It was clear he hated vampires for what they had done to the orphanage but that didn't make him blindly, well... bloodthirsty. Instead, he had kind of a stoic mentality when it came to fighting vampires. Wait for a perfect shot and then release the dart. In the few hand-to-hand combats they had been involved in, Jay usually stayed in the side lines when Xander and Bob engaged their opponent directly. When an opportunity presented itself, he just stepped in and staked the vampire from behind without any ceremony.
Bob, on the other hand, was rasher and took greater risks than his silent companion. Their group usually targeted only lone vampires – they were no Slayers after all, but, on occasion, they had had to prevent the impulsive young man from engaging a pair or even a trio. Over time Xander had formed a kind of "peaceful co-existence" relationship with him – or maybe they were more like friendly rivals. They respected each other but there was an unspoken competition between them, something like what Buffy and Faith had. They worked well together and with Jay as a "neutral" buffer between them, had managed to fall into an easy routine in their patrols.
Becky he saw only rarely, but it seemed that the scholarly girl had a not-so-mild case of hero-worship for him. His simple suggestion on the components for self-igniting bolts had sent the girl into a frenzy of research. She had not yet managed to find the required balance between the ingredients or the materials for containing them but the frequent burn marks in her clothes spoke of intense lab sessions.
Like Giles in Sunnydale, Father O'Shaughnessy was the solid and reliable foundation for this small group of demon fighters. Without really realizing it, Xander had opened up to the soft-spoken priest. One-on-one he had spoken of things he had never mentioned even to his closest friends. Alcoholic parents... the love-quadrangle between himself, Cordelia, Willow and Oz... Buffy and Angel... hyenas, praying mantises, love spells, Inca mummies, vengeance demons... Jesse, Ms Calendar, Kendra, Oz... a certain encounter at a motel room.
He had spilled it all and the priest took it all in without judgement, without accusations. Not a confessional by any means; just a sympathetic ear who was sworn to keep it all to himself. He may or may not have shed a few tears here and there, but the overall effect had been cathartic. Thinking back on all this, he nodded to himself a few times. It was time.
They were already close to the cemetery gates, and Father O'Shaughnessy had joined them when Xander stopped in his tracks. When the others stopped as well and looked at him curiously, he returned their gaze with a steady one of his own.
"Well, guys, I guess this is it. I've postponed this long enough already. I'll be gone first thing in the morning."
Each of his companions reacted to his announcement in their own characteristic way. Father O'Shaughnessy nodded his head a few times in understanding, Jay looked slightly sad and Bob burst out with, "What? Now?"
"Yes, now," Xander responded, and watched as the priest laid a reassuring hand on Bob's shoulder.
"We knew this day would come sooner rather than later." The priest's voice was soft and understanding. "It's obvious Xander hasn't made his decision lightly, so we should all respect his decision. His home and family are waiting for him and as uplifting as his stay with us had been, we have no right to stop him from following his heart."
"Yeah, I know, but...," Bob continued more quietly this time.
"Look, you guys are my crew, so I'll be touching base with you regularly," Xander tried to assure everyone.
"Whoa, hey!" Bob exclaimed. "Don't get any ideas. You guys are my crew!"
Before Xander could respond, Jay had stepped between him and Bob and extended his arms to keep them separated. Then, to Xander's total surprise, Jay took him into a bear hug.
He was shocked only for a second before returning the embrace with equal feeling. He got another, even greater, shock when first Bob and then Father O'Shaughnessy joined them in a group hug. It lasted for more than a minute, after which the three younger men, feeling somewhat embarrassed by their actions, sort of shuffled apart while trying to look like they weren't.
After several promises to keep in touch and wish Becky all the best, they just... went their own ways. Xander took his car to the motel to get a few hours of sleep before hitting the road again.