Screaming phoenix, Solarstone, Jason Barnett, I can entirely appreciate your sentiments. If I were reading it from the point of view of a regular series viewer, I also might feel like offended at the inclusion of an "O.C." in such a prominent role. But I came to become a K.P. fan writer from the artwork of Richard Sirois. To me, the "O.C." characters are as much a part of the tale as the series characters, as skewed as that sounds. But I hope to give a more rounded out role to the regular characters—as I try to do in this chpt.
Hachiman is the Shinto God of War and Japan's protector. It is believed that he reincarnates, or is personified every few centuries in human form. One such person was the Japanese Emperor Ōjin, who ruled in the 3rd & 4th centuries A.D.--ironically about the time Yamanuchi was founded, according to the K.P. show. Another appearance is the famous samurai Minamoto no Yoshiie
Check out Wikipedia. You can't help but blend the legend of Hachiman and the legend of the Bearer of the Lotus Blade. "None but the pure of heart can wield it."
Yoriko's story of the Venerable Master and the nerve gas attack in Tokyo on March 20, 1995, is historical. Consult Wiki, the CourtTV website for Shoko Asahara and the Aum cult (the real names of the man and his cult), and my fic "Kim and the Lionheart".
Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Middleton, Yoriko, Sensei, Hirotaka, the Lotus Blade, Yamanuchi, Monkey Fist, DNAmy, Jackie Oakes
are from the K.P. show.
Richard, Daphne, and Leo Harte are from my head. So are Akiro and Ichiro Kansumi. And Katrina Mercador. And Kenjijen. And the two gangs, the Yama's and the Nuchi's. And Omi and Yabu.
The Yiddish expressions Ron uses are from Koshernost-dot-com.
FROM INNER STRENGTH BY FREDERICK ALOYSIUS (a fanfiction sequel to EXCHANGE) (used with permission)
It was a quiet night in an Asian tropical forest. A red glow came from the top of the volcanic cone. An entrance to the volcano at its foothills is visible. In the forest were typical night forest sounds, but in the volcano was a high pitched, monkey-like laugh from a single voice.
Within the volcano was a large cavern. Within the cavern was a pool of boiling lava. .Overlooking the pool was a ledge. Standing on the ledge were Monkey Fist and a legion of his Monkey Ninjas. Moonlight was coming in from the top of the volcano and shining on the lake of lava. As Monkey Fist spoke, he raised his arms as if calling something out of the lava pit. A red sword emerged from the lava pit and hovered in the air in the beam of moonlight.
"The ancient texts were right! I have created that which will give me the power to destroy my enemies! I, Lord Monkey Fist, will lead you, my army of Monkey Ninjas, into glorious battle. We will be unstoppable now that I have--the Crimson Blade!"
He was answered by a deafening racket of high pitched, monkey laughter from many voices.
Voice of Sensei: "After your last encounter, Monkey Fist studied the ancient texts to plot his revenge. After much searching, he found a manuscript that described how the founders of Monkey Kung-Fu created the Lotus Blade. Armed with this knowledge, He spent many months in seclusion working but he finally succeeded."
Voice of Ron: "He created another Lotus Blade?"
Voice of Sensei: "No, he created its twin, the Crimson Blade."
Voice of Ron: "Ooooh, I get it. Sorta like a good twin bad twin thing."
Voice of Sensei: "Precisely. He used it to exact his revenge on the school."
Voice of Ron: "But what about the Lotus Blade? Did Monkey Fist get it?"
Voice of Sensei: "No. It was hidden after the last encounter so that only one who is pure of heart can retrieve it."
TWO YEARS AFTER THE PROM
The plane lifted off from the Tri-City Airport runway. Ron watched through the window the terminal where his parents, his brother-at-heart, his pet, and his beloved were, in all probability watching this very plane.
He would not see Middleton for the next year. He would not see Kim for several months. To ease the heartache, he drew upon the martial arts training. He withdrew his mind to an inner place.
He envisioned Kim. The feel of Kim's body in his arms. The smell of her hair in his nostrils. The sound of her 'I-love-you's in his ear. The sight of her that filled his eyes. The hair, resplendent as sunrise and thick as a wheatfield. The little turned-up nose. The puppy-pout mouth. The smooth neck. The bare midriff that he had gazed upon daily, and could finally encircle with his arms anytime he wished. The rounded bosom, the curvy hips, the sweet belly that of all men only he had seen. The slender arms that were stronger than his and could lift him as easily as he lifted her. The small delicate hands that could so gently caress his body and so thoroughly knock a villain's lights out. The trim legs that could outrun and outjump him and look so alluring. And most of all the eyes. The jewel-green, grass-green eyes that could show every tenderness.
He wrapped himself in his meditations and gazed out the window. The mountains of Colorado receded. The mountains of California drew near.
Then came the Pacific Ocean. The endless Pacific, no shore in either direction. He began to feel an anticipation. Yoriko; Sensei; Hirotaka. He had not seen them for several years. It was like going to a family reunion.
As he debarked from the plane in the Tokyo Airport, he looked absently for a greeting party. It did not matter if anyone was there. He could find his way to Yamanuchi blindfolded. He would go on foot, if needed.
His friends proved to be considerate. "Stoppable-san!" boomed the stentorian voice of Sensei.
Sensei was still the short stout figure with the full flowing white beard and twinkling eyes. He still wore the bright red caftan. It stuck out like a beacon. His flowing white hair was tied in a topknot. How ironic that the headmaster of a secret academy that taught the ninja arts should appear in public looking like a Japanese Santa Claus.
Hirotaka was in his leather jacket. His wild thick unruly hair that Kim, Monique Knowles, Bonnie Rockwaller, and every other girl at Middleton High had sighed over looked the same. And Yoriko--she did not wear the schoolgirl uniform with pleated skirt that she once did--that Ron had found so appealing. It was a fashionable woman's suit with mid-length skirt and matching jacket. But the jet-black hair, cut in the bangs and bob, the dark almond eyes, and the dazzling smile--those were the same.
Yoriko sucked in her breath. Stoppable-san was taller, leaner, poised. In the full measure of manhood. She walked swiftly to him to offer the customary embrace and kiss on the cheek.
He surprised her by seizing her in a strong hug and spinning her around.
"Stoppable-san!"she gasped.
He kissed both her cheeks. "Yori! It's good to see you!" He honestly missed her. In turn, he embraced Hitotaka, and even Sensei, heartily.
"Stoppable-san! Your Sensei is no longer a young man! Have a care!" laughed the old teacher. But Sensei returned the bearhug.
Yoriko's heart fluttered. She had looked forward to seeing her Ron-san, but she did not anticipate the intensity of emotion she would experience.
Rich brought two items of luggage: a suitcase and a carry-on.
"Stoppable-san," exclaimed Hirotaka, "When you first came to our country, you carried a mountain of luggage for a one-week stay
Ron grinned. "That's also when Yori told me it would be my 'honor' to carry every last piece of luggage up the mountain. I've learned my lesson--pack light when I'm with her!"
Sensei and Hirotaka laughed.
Yoriko blushed. "Stoppable-san, you are embarrassing me." And she put her arm through his as they walked out of the airport terminal. "But I have missed your American-style humor."
Hirotaka drove the small rental car. Sensei was in the front seat. Yoriko sat very close to Ron in the back seat.
"So, Stoppable-san, you are now a betrothed man. Possible-chan now wears a diamond ring. Do you wear an ankle manacle with a ball and chain?" teased Hirotaka.
Same old Hiro--the ladies' man, the player. "No, Hiro. I wear a slender thread around my heart. And it leads all the way back to Kim. The other end is tied around her heart. And when one of us pulls, the other feels the tug."
"And have you impoverished yourself by buying her flowers, and meals, and expensive clothes?"
"Nah. We usually eat in. I do all the cooking. And shopping for one fiancé is less expensive than all the money some other guy might spend on stuff like his own clothes, motorcycles, lotsa girlfriends--uh, you wouldn't know anyone like that, would you, Hiro?"
Hirotaka smiled wryly. Touché, Stoppable-san. "No, Stoppable-san. No one like that comes to my remembrance."
Sensei nodded approvingly. Stoppable-san was no longer the socially clumsy boy he had been years ago. He had matured into a self-confident young man. "So, Stoppable-san. Tell me of your fiancé, Possible-chan, and your brother, the Lionheart."
"Well," said Ron, "Kim and I have talked about getting married after my year at Yamanuchi."
Surprise registered on the faces of Sensei, Hirotaka, and Yoriko. Loud congratulations burst from Sensei's and Hirotaka's lips. Hirotaka reached back with one hand and warmly grasped Ron's hand. Sensei guffawed and clapped a hand on Ron's knee. Yoriko became very quiet and her smile became very strained.
"So, Stoppable-san," said Sensei, "Would you wish to be married at Yamanuchi? Or we could arrange honeymoon accommodations, if the two of you wish it."
"Heck, you guys, we just talked about it. I haven't really popped the question--I was kind of waiting until I got back home."
Yoriko drew a deep breath. She seemed more relaxed at hearing this information.
Hirotaka couldn't resist a verbal jibe. "So tell me, Stoppable-san--who is Possible-chan's chaperone while you are here?"
Ron smiled. "She's in good company, Hiro. She'll be hanging out with Rich while I'm gone."
"With Harte-san? The Lionheart? You do not know what you risk, Stoppable-san. Harte-san is a veritable love machine. I taught him all I know. Possible-chan will be helpless. She will be completely unable to resist his charms."
Ron was good-naturedly skeptical. "Are we talking about the same Harte-san, Hiro? The born-again Christian? Doesn't swear, doesn't drink, doesn't look at porn? I know my man Rich. He's more kosher than me. Kim is as safe with him as she is with her parents. A lot safer than with you, by the way."
And Hirotaka laughed boisterously.
Yoriko gently reprimanded Hirotaka. "You forget, Hirotaka. I grew up with the Lionheart and his sister. The behavior of both are beyond reproach."
It was a several hour trip out of Tokyo. They pulled the car over to the curb on a deserted stretch of road. The hill was a steep ascent. Ron knew the way by heart, though it had been less than a handful of times since his sophomore year in high school. An employee of the rental agency, in all likelihood a Yamanuchi student, would retrieve the car. Ron began the walk up the hill, at a brisk pace. He looked back. "What are you guys waiting on? For me to lag behind?"
Hirotaka and Yoriko looked at each other.
"He will exhaust himself," said Hirotaka.
"Are you sure?" asked Sensei, with a twinkle in his eye. He had already started up the steep incline.
"Stoppable-san, at least permit us to carry your luggage," called Hirotaka. "You were but a student last time. You are now an honored guest."
"I'm still a student, Hiro. And it's still my honor to carry my own load," called Ron. "Master Sensei, are you going to levitate? With the mystical floaty thing? The force field bubble?" he asked, referring to one of Sensei's abilities.
"No, my young ninja. It is fitting that a teacher should walk with his student."
Up they went, through the mists of the forest.
On the walk up, Ron asked about Rich. "It seems you guys know about this whole other side to his life.
Sensei spoke in his instructing tone of voice. "Even as with Yanamuchi, Stoppable-san, there are many secrets in the world of the Ninjitsu. Many are those who owe the Lionheart and his sister a debt of gratitude. And for that reason, we honor his confidentiality, as he honors ours."
"Among the ninja, the Lionheart is reckoned as a mighty and an honorable warrior," Hirotaka explained. "He is almost as highly regarded at the Lotus Master." And he bowed slightly toward Ron.
Ron knew, of course, how important honor and courtesy were in Japanese culture and history. He was touched that Hirotaka, the brash irreverent young man, would extend that courtesy toward him. And he was somewhat astounded to learn that somehow, his friend Rich had achieved the same level of honor. He must learn more, time allowing.
They topped the rise and came to the foot of the roaring falls.
Ron stopped a moment.
"Stoppable-san?" asked Yoriko. "We must continue. Have you forgotten the way?"
"Never, Yori. I'm just enjoying the moment." Ron breathed deep. "It's like I'm coming home, and I didn't know how much I missed it."
Yoriko's heart skipped a beat. Compassionate Buddha, make this Ron-san's real home, she prayed.
The little group slipped behind the waterfall into the hidden cave. They walked for a while until another opening could be seen ahead.
And it came into view; the mighty gorge crossed by the seemingly frail little rope bridge. It let to the mighty pagodas, against the backdrop of the mighty peak; such was Yamanuchi. Ron exhaled in wonder. It was a spectacular sight and it never failed to take his breath away.
The gong sounded inside the walled enclosure. The students assembled. "Your Sensei returns!" called Hirotaka in a commanding voice. And in perfect unison the students fell to their hands and knees and touched their foreheads to the ground.
"My students, my children," called Sensei, "Arise. Let us welcome our guest, Stoppable-san."
All the students were dressed in gi's. They rose to their feet and stared in wonder. Awed whispers could be heard. "Stoppable-san--the Chosen--the Lotus Master." As Ron approached, each student folded his or her hands and bowed deeply.
"Yoriko-chan," said Sensei, "Go and bring forth the Blade."
Yoriko bowed and left hurriedly. Ron looked around. The courtyard, the gong, the walls, the building, the very air. He inhaled deeply. Middleton was his birthplace. It was where he grew up, and where Kim lived. It was the home of his heart. But Yamanuchi--Yamanuchi was where his courage was born. Here he learned to walk alone--without a helping hand. Monkey Fist had contested his endowment of the Mystical Monkey Power. Fukushima had contested his right to be a student at Yamanuchi. Both had contested his right to bear the Lotus Blade. But encouraged by Yoriko and Sensei, and without relying on Kim's bail-out, Ron had conquered his inner doubts and triumphed over his opponents.
Yoriko returned carrying a silver blue katana that had a hand guard shaped like a flower blossom.
Sensei stood tall and lifted up his voice. " Our school has a long and honored history. In the Year 998, according to the Imperial calendar, and the Year 338 Anno Domini, according to the Christian European calendar,Yamanuchi was founded by the great warrior Toshimiru, who carved this monastery from the living rock of the mountain, using only this sword, the Lotus Blade." He motioned toward Ron. "Lotus Master," he in a voice that seemed to resound from the vast gorge, "Claim now your weapon, the sign of your destiny."
Ron stretched forth his hand. The sword flew like a missile from the scabbard into his grip. He held it aloft and the deep blue glow that emanated from it lit the courtyard. He felt vibrant life flooding through him.
An audible gasp of awe filled the entire structure. To a person, every student and teacher fell again on their faces. "Hail the Lotus Master! Honor and glory to the Bearer of the Blade! Honor and glory to the Lotus Master!"
Yoriko lifted her face and clasped her hands in adoration. Passion filled her heart and tears of love flowed from her eyes. Surely none like him had ever before lived. Her hero--her god--her Stoppable-san.
"My children. My students. Stoppable-san, the Lotus Master of this generation, is among us for the next twelve months, to better learn the way of the Ninjitsu and to perfect his mastery of the Tai Shek Peng War that he may better serve his betrothed and mission partner in their endless battle for good. Tomorrow begins his training regimen. But tonight," said Sensei with a twinkle in his eye, "We celebrate! A feast in his honor!" He turned to Hirotaka. "Hirotaka-san!"
Hirotaka bowed. "Sensei-sama!"
"Prepare the Great Hall. Prepare the food and drink. You know what to do."
Hirotaka bowed again. "It shall be done, Sensei-sama." And he directed those around him. "Jiro! Go to the kitchen! Yuka! Come with me!"
Ron sheathed the sword in the scabbard that Yoriko carried.
"Now, Stoppable-san, issue the command, and the Blade will return to its place of safekeeping," said Sensei.
Ron was perplexed for a moment. Then he furrowed his brow in concentration. "Return," he whispered.
And the sheathed Blade faded from view.
The Sword will go to a cleft in the Mountain," explained Yoriko. "A safe place. Out of reach of thieves like Monkey Fist--or traitors like Fukushima. To be recalled by the pure of heart--by yourself, Stoppable-san." She pulled on Ron's arm. Come, Stoppable-san. I will show you to your quarters."
She led him to the room he had occupied on his first student-exchange stint years ago. "Welcome to your home for the next year, my Ron-san."
Ron grinned. "I was wondering when you would start calling me by that name." He nudged her. "I've missed hearing it."
Yoriko said, "And I have missed hearing the name 'Yori'."
Ron looked around. "Yep. Same old comfy bed," he said, smiling." He nudged the sleeping mat with his foot--and noticed another sleeping mat. "I see I have a roomie, this time. That wouldn't be you, would it? Kim would so jell."
Yoriko blushed and giggled. "Ron-san! You are shameless! You know I am a proper girl! This is for Hirotaka--with your permission, of course. Sensei has asked him to take a sabbatical from his acting career to assist teaching you. And Hirotaka has graciously consented."
"Not the problem. I don't mind if he doesn't mind. So tell me, if you don't mind. Are you and Hiro a couple?"
Again Yoriko blushed. "No, Ron-san. He has many women friends. And I await someone worthy of my affections."
"Hope you find him. You deserve the best."
Yoriko only looked intently at Ron. After a moment she spoke. "In the cabinet you will find clothing, Ron-san. I must go and prepare for the festivities. I will see you soon."
She slid the panel shut on her own room and was alone. On the low desk next to her sleeping mat was a brass Buddha figurine, a candle, and several pictures. She knelt, lit the candle, clasped her hands, and gazed upon the portrait of Ron Stoppable. "Compassionate Buddha," she prayed quietly, "My heart is full. It is my karma to be my Ron-san's companion for the next year as he perfects his learning. I know that all is ordained--but I beseech that his heart might find its place here. May my feet remain on the Path. May I be worthy to instruct and assist my Ron-san."
She blew the candle out, and changed out of her jacket and skirt into her black gi. Twelve months. Twelve months to wean Ron-san's heart from Middleton and Kimberly-chan to Yamanuchi--and herself. Let my desires be pure. Let karma be fulfilled.
The Great Hall was lit with lanterns and strung with confetti. There was sushi, nacos, pizza--saké, kosher wine, soft drink.
Yoriko was a very devout Buddhist. She contented herself with a small wine cooler--and for her, that was an extreme indulgence. Ron was simply not a drinker. He drank cola. Sensei was merry and expansive. No one could tell how much he had to drink.
Yoriko was at Ron's side the entire night. Most of the time her arm was through his. A few times his arm was around her shoulders and her heart fluttered like a butterfly--or around her waist, and she became giddy, nearly fainting with bliss.
Ron kept the crowd in laughter. He regaled them with stories of his days as Kim's inept partner--before the night that changed his life. He had blurted out his confession to Kim--"There's someone for you--out there--in here." And barely days later Team Harte had joined Team Possible. Ron had found a lover in Kim--and a brother in Richard Harte. And all the Yamanuchi teaching kicked into high gear.
"There was the time Sensei appeared to me in the high school cafeteria. He wrote my name on the wall with mystery meat gravy. I spent the whole night hiding under the furniture at home. Rufus scared the crap out me when he pretended to look like a giant shadow puppet. I tried to block the door with a dresser. And Yoriko scared the crap out of me by sneaking in my house and coming up behind me after I had pushed the dresser up to the door."
It was not that what he said was funny. It was how he said it. How he pantomimed Rufus with the claws. How he imitated himself with the wide eyes, the stuck-up hair, and the high-pitch screech.
He included his antics with Richard Harte and their Goofballs-And-Dorks masquerades.
Yoriko was proud of her Ron-san. His American-style humor. His new self-confidence. He was not afraid to make fun of himself.
His final trick of the night was to show off his routine as the Middleton High School Maddog Mascot. He put the bulldog mask on and shook his jowls, showering people with banana cream foam. Then he did a series of backflips the entire length of the Great Hall. At the last flip, his pants fell down and showed his boxer shorts. Red silk shorts with pictures of Sensei.
"Stoppable-san!"screeched Yoriko with shock.
Sensei doubled over and roared with laughter. Tears of hilarity flowed down his cheeks. It was ten minutes before he could catch his breath. Yoriko feared he would have a heart attack.
At last the party was done. Sensei wiped his eyes and gave Ron a rib-squeezing hug. "Oh my Stoppable-san--in a hundred years I have not laughed so hard. Thank you, my son." He went off to his quarters, still chuckling.
Yoriko and Ron watched Sensei as he tottered off . "How much saké has he had? Will he be okay?"
Yoriko smiled indulgently. "He will awaken completely sober, and as clear-headed as the mountain air."
"Is he really over a hundred years old?"
"I have consulted the records back to the time of the American occupation, after the Second World War. Sensei is mentioned as headmaster of the school."
"Jeez! That was more than sixty years ago! What's his secret?"
She shook her head. "I do not know. I can only hope and pray that I will be as fit at his age--whatever that is."
Ron looked at the Ronunicator. "Oh, man. It's a text message--from Kim!"
Yoriko tried to look noncommittal. "From Kimberly-chan? So soon?"
Ron calculated. "Lemme think--Tokyo time zone--twelve hour flight--crossing the International Date Line--." His eyes widened. "Wow! This is from yesterday!" He showed the screen to Yoriko.
Dear Ron: Oh, hon, how I miss you! I want to grab a jet and fly to Japan! Rufus has decided he wants to spend all his time over here at my parent's house. He's either sleeping or playing Everlot online. Mom and Dad let him have the run of the house--even the kitchen. He made Mom and me cheese omelet for breakfast. It's so cute. He wears that little chef's hat and apron when he cooks, and then wears the little waiter's uniform, with the white shirt, tux jacket, and bow tie, when he serves us. I can hardly believe he can handle a human-sized pan and spatula. I'm so proud of him. Sometimes I feel like a parent--OMG, listen to me! You'd better come home next year ready to wear a tux yourself, my husband-to-be--cuz we're gonna git hitched and make babies, like Uncle Slim would say.
What you said to Rich at the boarding gate has been so true. Having him around has helped me from overboarding emotionally. We've gone on a mission already. Drakken and Shego broke into the museum last night--with Dementor! You can check the mission log at my website. He's been telling me stories from his younger days in Japan. I can see why you and he became best friends after our two teams hooked up. He's such a neat guy.
I misjudged him so badly during high school. He helped me see what I would have lost when we were in London.
Ron turned red. "Well--I guess I didn't let have to let you read that part about making babies. Kim would be so tweaked. Don't tell her when you see her--when she comes."
When she comes. Compassionate Buddha give her strength. "I envy you, Ron-san. To not only have a soulmate like Kimberly-chan, but a friend like the Lionheart. To even have a pet like Rufus-san." She smiled. "I miss Rufus-san. Perhaps he can accompany Kimberly-chan on one of her visits."
"Yeah," said Ron. "I'm kinda missing my friends. Rich is like a brother to me. Y'know, you're as good a friend to me as Rich is."
Yoriko frowned. "I am like a brother to you, Ron-san? Thank you. You know how to compliment a girl."
"C'mon, Yori," appealed Ron. "You know what I mean."
Yoriko hugged Ron around his waist with one arm. "Come, my Ron-san. I will walk you to your room. The new day begins in only a few hours--and we must both awaken to your training regimen."
Ron hugged Yoriko and tried to make it brotherly. "G'night, Yori." He kissed her forehead--just out of a sense of closeness. "It's badical to be back at Yamanuchi--and to see all you guys again." He thought he smelled a hint of cherry fragrance.
Yoriko sighed silently as she gave Ron a heartfelt hug. She could smell his aftershave. It was the piney smell he had always worn. It even reminded her of what her father used. Men hardly ever changed what they wore. Not that she would want Ron to change anything about himself. She could even feel the stubble as her cheek brushed against his. And the way he brushed her hair to kiss her forehead--it was all bittersweet heartache. Oh my Ron-san--to feel your arms around me--I can hardly bear it.
Ron was awake before sunrise. He did a combination of aerobic calisthenics, traditional western calisthenics, and Tai-Chi exercises in the walled courtyard, and then jogged outside the old stone monastery wall The masked ninja guards who furtively patrolled the perimeter of the structure with drawn bow and arrow acknowledged his presence with silent nods. And he nodded back.
The sky grew lighter. Sunrise approached. The sky was growing pink on the rim of the eastern horizon. Then it turned red, and the birds began to sing. On a whim, Ron scaled a wall as nimbly as a squirrel. He reached the guard walk at the top of the wall surrounding Yamanuchi There was a bead of sunlight on the horizon as bright as a laser. The mountain peaks were touched by rays of sunlight. Then an explosion of glory. The birds' songs rose in pitch like a symphony. It was a majestic sight, full of grandeur
The scarlet sun, the dark blue sky, and the purple mountain peaks. The clouds and snows of the mountain peaks were lit by the rays. He was moved to awe and reverence. As Kim felt when watching the sunrise with Rich.
As David said in the Psalms:
Awake, my soul!
Awake, harp and lyre!
I will awaken the dawn.
I will praise you, O Lord, among the nations;
I will sing of you among the peoples.
For great is your love, reaching to the heavens;
your faithfulness reaches to the skies.
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens;
Let your glory be over all the earth.
Ron's gi top was wet with sweat. He untied the sash of his gi and took off his shirt. He wanted to feel the breeze. The air temperature was freezing or below at this altitude, but he hardly felt the chill
Yoriko watched from the courtyard. He was lean. His muscles rippled in the light. She covered her heart with her hand. Stoppable-san. He was like a warrior of old. Like a god. Like Hachiman, the legendary protector of the innocent. Like Ojin, Hachiman's reincarnation, Nippon's Emperor when the Yamanuchi School was founded.
Ron heard a sound. He turned. Sensei had entered the courtyard and was standing beside Yoriko.
"Sensei-sama." Both Yoriko and Ron bowed.
"Come to breakfast, my students And then--our training regimen, Stoppable-san, begins this day with a mission."
Ron became attentive. "A mission? Like with Team Possible?"
"Yes. You and Yoriko-chan will go to Tokyo and assist in apprehending certain criminals. All will be explained."
After breakfast, Yoriko and Ron scrambled down the mountainside and were met by a sedan with tinted windows as they approached the curb of the road. The driver's side window rolled down. "Good morning, Stoppable-san and Kansumi-chan. I will take you to your destination in Tokyo."
They made small talk during the ride.
"You guys call Rich 'Lionheart'," said Ron.
"It is taken from his name, 'Richard Leo Harte', and the similarity to the famous English king, Richard the Lionhearted. When we were all very young, my grandfather would gather us around him and tell us stories of heroes and champions rescuing the helpless," said Yoriko.
"Kinda like Kim and I in our treehouse," said Ron.
And the talk turned serious. "Yori," asked Ron, "Did you know Daphne and Rich's parents--growing up in Kenjijen?"
"I did," she answered. "They were both very kind."
"Now that he and I are like brothers, I know his dad pretty well, but his mom--well, she died."
"I was there," said Yoriko quietly, "The day of the sarin nerve gas attack in Tokyo."
"You were there?" asked Ron, shocked.
Yoriko nodded. "I will recall it to the end of my life. 1995."
"Damn," said Ron. "I was six years old. K.P. and I were fighting off bullies like Arnie Custer. And here you were, seeing real-life terrorism up close.
Yoriko told the story with subdued voice. And Ron listened in stunned silence.
Nippon is full of cults. The Mountain of Supreme Truth was a very aggressive one. Its leader, the Venerable Master, tried to become Prime Minister. He tried to fill Parliament with his followers. He bribed, threatened, and murdered all who opposed him. And when the people did not elect him, he decided to inflict a great punishment in revenge. His lackey, the Doctor, experimented with many weapons of mass destruction. It took place in the morning, during the commute of many to their place of employment in Tokyo. The followers of the Venerable Master hid plastic bags of nerve gas under subway car seats, and punctured the bags with sharpened umbrella tips. The gas slowly seeped out.
My mother and the Lionheart's mother, Mariah Bess Harte-chan, had gone to Tokyo for a shopping holiday. My mother took me with her. We were riding the subway, and were just exiting at our desired stop. Suddenly the car filled with a white gas, like fog. It smelled terribly--like death. People began to panic. The doors began to automatically close. Harte-chan pushed us through the doorway to safety. Then the door panels closed, trapping her. Mother screamed and beat upon the glass with her fists. A kindly man forced open the doors and carried out Harte-chan.
Dozens of people died that day. Thousands more were overcome by the gas. Fear ruled the hearts of the populace. Mariah Bess Harte-chan was hospitalized for several days, then was released. All seemed well.
Then she began to weaken. Fainting spells. Kidney failure. Breathing failure. It was very gradual. Over the five years, Harte-chan grew worse. My father's Christian church prayed much to the Lord Christ. My grandfather and I prayed much to the Lord Buddha. Harte-san took her to many doctors. Many neurologists and neurosurgeons--even to Dr. Possible-chan in America--in MIddleton, Colorado--where Harte-chan grew up. There was nothing medical science could do--but Mariah Bess Harte-chan and Annette Possible-chan became deep friends.
And so Mariah Bess Harte-chan passed away. And Leo Harte-san and his children moved back to America--back to the home of his wife's youth--Middleton.
"And so you see, my Ron-san, how the fabric of Destiny weaves us together," concluded Yoriko. "I became a ninja, partly to oppose the evil of men like the Venerable Master--at Yamanuchi. Unknown to me, the Lionheart and his sister learned the ninja ways--somehow--for the same reason--in America. Kimberly-chan and yourself began to do missions, to oppose evil men. And unknown to both of us, the Lionheart and his sister did missions. The partner of Kimberly-chan--yourself--learned the ways of the ninja at Yamanuchi. And my old friend--the son of the Dr. Possible-chan's friend--sought to join himself as a fellow ninja to the Dr. Possible-chan's daughter. My heart stirred within me when I learned that the exchange student to Yamanuchi was coming from Middleton--Stoppable-san, the partner of Kim Possible-chan. And when I learned that the friends of my childhood now missions with Possible-chan and her partner--well, you can guess, my Ron-san, how I marveled at the Divine Wisdom that guided us all--how our paths should cross."
Ron shook his head. "Wow. Rich would say, truth is stranger than fiction. If it's written down somewhere, the dude is certain to remember it."
Their driver spoke. "Kansumi-chan and Stoppable-san--we approach our destination. I must tell you of your mission."
"Okay," said Ron.
"Tokyo is full of gangs--some call themselves 'Ninja'." There are two gangs in the municipal district we are traveling to. One is called the 'Yama's' and the other the 'Nuchi's'. The boss of each gang calls himself the 'Lotus Master'. Much blood has been shed and much life lost in their rivalry--both their members and the innocents in the crossfire. The Chief of Police of this municipal district of Tokyo is a graduate of Yamanuchi."
They met Chief Yato-san
"I greet you, Stoppable-san," and more quietly, "Lotus Master. I graduated from Yamanuchi before your arrival. But the tales of your exploits--both as a member of Team Possible and the Bearer of the Blade--have resounded the length and breadth of the land."
"Wow. Sounds like I'm more familiar than Yamanuchi," said Ron amazed.
It is true," said Yato-san. "Through the centuries, we have been committed to keeping the secret of Yamanuchi. But since the time of Toshimiru, the name of the Lotus Warrior has been synonymous with the cause of justice for the defenseless and the oppressed. It has been a beacon of hope. Ninja are cloaked in secrecy. It is second nature to them. But the Lotus Master--whispers of a champion cannot be suppressed. They endure. And the tales grow in the telling down through the centuries. This is your heritage, Stoppable-san--both your privilege and your duty--the responsibility you must bear."
Yoriko watched the effect of Chief Yato's words on Ron. The wisdom in his eyes and the gravity in his face seemed to increase by the moment. The deeds of the Lotus Master will outlast us. For ages to come they will be remembered. How blessed to be the consort of such a one--whoever the karma ordains.
Yato-san showed them a couple rap sheets. "These are the rival leaders. Omi and Yabu. They hate each other and have tried almost daily to assassinate each other. Poisoned food and drink, hit men, car bombs--they are turning this part of Tokyo into a war zone. It is like Bagdad--or Beirut--or Mogadishu. We have been powerless to stop them. They sniff out our undercover agents and informants. Even with my training as a ninja, we are not sufficient. It is as though they have supernatural assistance. And so in my desperation, I have called upon Sensei--and he has sent you both. Your coming is ordained, Stoppable-san. Heaven sends you."
Yoriko quite agreed.
"Uh, Chief-san, I have to ask. The names of the two gangs--Yama and Nuchi. Like in imitation of you-know-what. And the name 'Lotus Master' that these two yahoos are each claiming. It sounds a little too close to be coincidence."
"That also is part of your mission, my friends. To learn why this rabble has chosen names so significant to us. Accident or purpose. And who has told them what. And now, to infiltrate the street gang culture, you must look like you belong," the chief said.
They rummaged among items of clothing from the evidence room and the undercover unit lockers.
"We can take you both in an unmarked car to the area of the district where most of the gang warfare takes place," said Chief Yato.
"With your permission, Yato-san, Stoppable-san and I will go on foot," said Yoriko. "If the gangs are as alert as you say, it will be less noticeable."
Yoriko and Ron made their farewells and furtively left the police station. They were both dressed as office workers, to look like commuters. As they approached the gang turf, they changed to the other clothing in an abandoned building.
Ron appeared in torn jeans, black muscle shirt, and bike chain across his shoulder, red wraparound glasses. His hair was moussed in a Mohawk.
Yoriko was dressed in a red crop top, pleated black skirt, black fishnet stockings, and black lace gloves. Her jet black hair was under a wig of long red hair parted down the middle--not natural red like Kim's--scarlet red, as red as the crop tip. She tried to pull her crop top down. "No doubt Possible-chan is accustomed to wearing such a revealing garment. I am not. I feel as though I resemble a slut."
Ron glanced at her. She caught his glance and glared at him. He looked up and whistled an aimless tune.
"Your silence is very telling, Stoppable-san."
"Me? Nah, I just can't help admiring how well you wear such a--revealing garment," he said.
She fumed. "If you dare leer at me, I can apply a nerve pinch that will make your eyes cross and your tongue drool."
"C'mon, Yori, you know I respect you."
She sighed. "I know. I was trying to ease my own embarrassment. You are the most upright man I know--next to Sensei."
"C'mon, you can't mean all the guys at school?"
"Oh, yes. The boys will simply stare at me with their tongues lolling out when they first come to Yamanuchi."
Ron nudged her. "Ya know, Yori--it's hardly their fault--somebody as beautiful as you."
Yoriko turned as red as her wig. "Is it your intent to cause me to blush for the entire year you are here, my Ron-san?"
"Every day, if I can help it." Ron couldn't help but notice her flashing smile and shy downward glance every time he embarrassed her. It was cute--endearing. It was actually very alluring.
It was also something Kim rarely did. Her personality was too assertive. There was one person, though, who could do to Kim what Ron did to Yoriko. That person was Rich. And it made Ron begin to ponder--how did he love Yori? And how did Rich love Kim? And if it was what Ron was afraid it was--deep in the heart of both himself and his friend Richard Leo Harte, how much temptation was there to act on those feelings?
He changed the topic of conversation. "Y'know, I was doing some reading in Sensei's library. The Ninja were originally spies and assassins, hired by the Daimyo to do the dirty work--so the samurai wouldn't do because of their honor. Even the female ninjas would disguise themselves as prostitutes."
Again Yoriko sighed. "It is true. Sensei often points out the hypocrisy of human nature. If someone's conscience will not let them do evil, they simply find someone else with no conscience and pay them to do evil. To be a ninja is to be associated with a shameful history. Our Sensei has done much to elevate the reputation of the ninjitsu by his rigorous emphasis on ethical standards. Even the exploits of Team Possible, my Ron-san, have lifted up the esteem in which ninja are held."
Ron nodded--and suddenly was aware of the gathering crowd around them. "Yori--."
"Yes, my Ron-san. I see. They have taken the bait. The Compassionate Buddha grant that they will be caught in the trap and not us."
The rough-looking crowd was in a rough mood. Dressed in leather with studs, chains, bare-armed, some bare-chested, scars on chests and faces, grumbling and cursing--and completely surrounding Ron and Yori.
"Get behind me, Yori. Let's cover each other's backs."
"May Hachiman strengthen us, Ron-san"
Ron balled his fists and cracked his knuckles. "Yeah--whoever. These guys look like the 'Yama's', from the description Chief Yato gave us."
Slowly Yoriko drew her fans and unfolded them.
A broad-chested man, a head shorter than Ron, burst out laughing. "What the hell is going on? Geisha Kung-Fu?"
"You tell them, Omi," said one of the others
Omi turned and shouted. "Shut up! I'll do the talking!" And he turned back to face Yoriko. "You're in our house, now, sister--not the tea house!"
Ron raised his voice. "I'm looking for the Balebos of this pathetic outfit."
Omi looked confused. "Balebos? What the f**k is that?"
Someone behind Omi whispered. "It's Yiddish, boss. It means 'boss'."
Omi snarled. "Hah! A Jew boy! Lost your way to the synagogue, freak?" He grinned evilly. "C'mon, dickheads, I made a joke! Somebody laugh!"
And there was a weak laughter.
"I came from the Nuchi's!" said Ron loudly. "The Lotus Master sent me!"
Omi exploded. "I'm Lotus Master, you stupid f**k!"
Ron threw his head back and laughed derisively. "You? Hah! Looks like some Feygele to me! You might wear a lotus behind your ear, but lead this bunch of bandits? Puh-leeze! I might be some Greener, but I know a boss when I see one!"
Omi leaned back and asked the one who spoke earlier. "Hey, Brainiac! What's a Feygele?"
The other hesitated.
Omi grumbled. "Ya got sh*t for brains? What's it mean?"
"Uh--it means 'fag'--b-boss!"
Omi exploded again. "Fag? I'll fag you, dog dick! And your chick, too!"
"My Ron-san," said Yoriko quietly, "You have a plan, do you not? A plan that will result in their defeat and not ours? They do not seem to appreciate your American-style humor."
Ron reached back and squeezed Yoriko's elbow. "Don't worry, Yori. We'll get our training regimen. And it gats worse--I promise you, I'll make sure you survive."
Yoriko's heart was bittersweet. Stoppable-san, the Lotus Master, had given his word. If it meant his life--and the life of everyone of their opponents--and he was perfectly capable of it, if he unleashed his Mystical Monkey Power and summoned the Lotus Blade--she would survive today.
Guns were drawn and cocked.
"Put them away!" Omi shouted. "We are going to make these f**ks suffer!"
The guns were put away. The blades, chains, nunchucks, and chains were drawn.
The circle surged in on the two. Weapons were twirling. Yoriko and Ron moved in a clockwise circle. Yoriko's fans slashed. Ron's fists and feet swung and jabbed. Knees, guts, chins, faces--and throats and groins, in need be--were their targets. They moved like automatons. Without turning their heads, they perceived everything within the 180 degrees of vision.
The Yama's fell like bowling pins. After twenty-five were down, the rest broke and ran--Omi among them.
"Yori--let's go!" said Ron. "After Omi!"
They stumbled over the bodies.
Yoriko stole a glance at Ron's face. "Ron-san? You suspect something!"
Omi reached a car. He turned the key, gunned the motor, and peeled out, tires squealing.
"Just a hunch, Yori!" said Ron as they ran after Omi. "I'm thinking these two rivals are really friends--and they're playing off all sides!"
A Yama was leaving on a motorcycle.
In this part of the city, there was debris on the streets--bricks, stones, car parts.
Ron scooped up half a brick and flung it at the Yama.
It glanced off the Yama's shoulder. He dropped like a tree and slid to a stop on the pavement, the motorcycle stalling out.
Ron picked up the motorcycle, swung his leg over, and revved it. Yoriko clambered on behind him and threw her arms around his waist. They did a slight wheelie and were off like a rocket.
Ron's head and heart raced. Damn, but I love this! It's like havin' Kim with me! 'Cept I can't make it with Yori when we're done!
Yoriko's head and heart raced. Oh, Compassionate Buddha--You teach us to detach ourselves from our baser feelings--but this fierce joy I feel! Surely it is a good thing to subdue such folk as this--to intoxicate ourselves with the presence of a Beloved while we protect the Land of the Gods and its people--as the Samurai used to do! Surely this is the will of Hachiman!
Yoriko hugged Ron hard around his waist. And at that moment, Ron felt an absolute hunger for her.
Holy shit! Must be a combo-adrenalin-testosterone rush--wantin' to bone Yori! Get your head on straight, Stoppable! Think Kim! Kim Kim Kim!
Omi felt the Hound of Hell closing in behind him. WTF! Who are these two? This guy--the Jew-boy! Is he the one they told us about? Fukushima told us! He said his man would let us know when this guy was coming. They promised us we would get some warning! He made turn after turn, his tires squealing. Please, God--let me get to Yabu in time. Let me die in bed!
Omi slammed on the brakes. The car slid into the side of a building.
Men from the building across the street poured out, aiming automatic weapons.
Omi held his arms out the driver's side window. "No! I got no piece! I got to see Yabu!"
The men drew closer, cocking their weapons.
Omi screamed, panic-stricken. "Tell Yabu! He's coming! The Guy! He's coming!"
A man ran back inside the building. Other men yanked open the car door and pulled Omi out. "Get out, you piece of crud!"
A bald bear of a man with missing teeth ran out of the building. "Omi! What the hell!" He grabbed Omi by the lapels. "What's going on?"
Omi trembled. "He's coming! He and some chick! They took us apart!"
"Can't be!" said Yabu. "Must be some undercover pair!"
Omi babbled. "Undercover? You stoop! You idiot! If they were undercover, they would've never found us!"
The motorcycle bulleted into the section of street. Ron headed straight for the group of men.
Yoriko backflipped off the cycle. Then Ron did likewise. The cycle tipped over and slid into the group, knocking some over.
The remaining men opened fire, spraying with bullets. Ron and Yoriko cartwheeled ahead of the stream of bullets. Then they dropped behind a parked car.
"Waste their asses!" ordered Yabu.
The men approached carefully, firing sporadically. They peered around the car. "Hey! They're gone!"
"What?" shouted Yabu. "You guys are stoned! Look under the car! Look in the building! They must have slipped in!"
A hurtling form broke through the car's windshield. Another form broke through the rear window. They leapt from man to man like a striking snake. Faster than the eye could follow, they kicked with foot and chopped with hand. All Yabu's men were down.
"I told you!" screamed Omi. "I told you!"
More men appeared at the door of Yabu's building.
"F**king shit-heads!" grumbled Yabu. He drew a gun and fired.
Yoriko collapsed.
"Yori!" screamed Ron.
"The rest of you--get out here!" yelled Yabu. And more men appeared
Some men had guns. Some had katana, chains, and switchblades. One had a machete.
Ron extended his hand. The machete flew from the Nuchi's hand into Ron's.
Ron held up the sword. It began to glow blue.
The blue glow spread to surround Yoriko and Ron.
The Nuchi's fired at them.
The bullets recoiled off the blue glow. A shimmering blue wave emanated from Yoriko and Ron.
Every Nuchi was knocked flat.
Ron approached Yabu and Omi with the sword leveled at them. "Give it up, Lotus Masters."
Omi babbled. "Yabu! He's the real deal! Fukushima told us he wouldn't come--!"
Yabu cuffed Omi. "Lamebrain! Shut your f**king face!"
Ron perked up his ears. "What was that name, dipwad?"
Yabu raised his hands. "We don't know squat, Mousse-head! We want a lawyer!"
Ron called out over his shoulder. "Yori? You okay?"
"Yes, my Ron-san. He only shot the heel off my shoe."
Ron breathed a sigh of relief. Thank you, Lord. "Lucky for you, fella," he said grimly to Yabu.
Omi wept and groveled. "He reassured us! We'd be safe. You wouldn't appear!"
Ron smiled crookedly. "Dude. Get a clue. Here's some free advice. Don't trust Fukushima--now or ever."
In a posh apartment, in a luxury Tokyo high-rise, a sour-faced young man with a topknot in his hair took a phone call.
"Fukushima-san," a voice said.
"Yes, Yabu," the sour-faced man answered.
"I am most sorry, Fukushima-san. We were captured--two appeared--as you said they would. The man was an American--Jewish. He wielded a mystical power. He made a sword shine with blue light. The woman fought with--fans. And she slashed through fabric as though they were razor-sharp."
"Where are you now, Yabu?"
"the attorney you sent was somehow able to obtain our release. I am calling you on the cell phone he gave me."
"Very good, Yabu. The call will be untraceable."
"Fukushima-san--I have dishonored myself."
"It is of no importance, Yabu. You were meant to be a lure. You have drawn out the true Lotus Master."
"I am your poor servant, Fukushima-san. But--."
"Yes, Yabu?"
There is more--Omi has revealed you. He blurted out your name in the man's hearing. What are your orders?"
Fukushima frowned. "Nothing for the moment, Yabu. But you may have to do what is necessary to satisfy honor--both his life and yours. Do you understand?"
There was a long moment of silence and just the slightest quiver in Yabu's voice. "I understand, Fukushima-san. Say the word and it is done."
"I will speak with you later, Yabu." The sour-faced man hung up the telephone and then punched a number on the keypad.
A suave Spanish accented voice answered. "Yes, Fukushima-san, my friend."
"It is as you predicted, Señor Patrón. Stoppable-san has appeared. He and Kansumi-chan have captured the two pawns."
The voice sounded pleased."Very good. Our plan proceeds on schedule."
Señor Patrón--" said Fukushima cautiously.
"Yes, Fukushima-san."
"Omi unthinkingly divulged my name to Stoppable-san. I know your preparations are most thorough, my Patrón, but your unworthy servant would neglect his duty if he did not express his concern. 'Even an iron shield may have a loose rivet,' my former master, the Sensei of Yamanuchi, used to say."
"It does not matter. If you deem it prudent to silence Omi so that other loose-lipped idiotes will learn fearful caution, I will not fault your decision. Your former Sensei is quite correct. A shame he did not appreciate your attributes--as I do. His neglect will cost him. We will pound the loose rivet--and we will thank your Sensei when you stand over his body."
"Yes, Señor Patrón."
It was at the prefect station that Ron and Yoriko changed out of their gang-banger clothes. Yoriko breathed a sigh of relief. The wig was itchy. The bare midriff was too compromising. She shook out her hair and tightened the sash of her suit--and wondered. I have committed myself to the Path. I will not stoop to revealing myself like a sex trade girl. But to wean Ron-san from his attachment to Possible-Chan--how devious was Yoriko willing to be?
They were holding a conference call with Sensei. The phone was on loudspeaker. The transmission was encrypted. And they exercised the ninja talents--quiet voices and sharp ears. No sound of their conversation could be heard beyond the walls.
"Sensei," said Ron, "One of these two Lotus Master wannabe's let it slip. Fukushima's name. Now we know why those two gangs were so good."
"Yes. Omi blurted out the name of Fukushima, Sensei-sama," said Yoriko. "This is both enlightening and troubling. We can see why the two gangs were so elusive. They had the same training as us. The traitor has revealed himself--but he has taken the trouble to set up this whole appearance. It seems that it was intended that Yato-san should be forced to call upon the real Yamanuchi for assistance."
"I am most ashamed, my master," said Yato. "I swallowed the bait like a fish. I should have been more discreet."
"Me, too, Sensei," said Ron apologetically. "I got all concerned when I thought Yori was shot. I used the Mystical Monkey Power. At least I had the smarts not to call the real Lotus Blade. But what I did was as good as turning on a big neon sign. 'Lotus Master here. Direct from Yamanuchi. Step right up and see him levitate objects'."
"You are all too harsh on yourselves," said Sensei's voice. "Fukushima is as sly as a ferret. The wicked are better at slyness than the righteous. I would rather have you righteous than sly. Stoppable-san has revealed himself to Fukushima. That was part of Fukushima's plan. He expected you to come. Doubtless he is in league with Monkey Fist--or some other evil-doer who has the ability to sense Stoppable-san's presence. What matters is that Fukushima has revealed himself--and we may safely assume that he has an unseen guide. In this game of strategy and covert knowledge, the odds are in our favor. We can expect further moves in the future. We must simply exercise greater vigilance. And now, Yato-san--you have not disappointed me. You have learned well the lessons I have taught you. And my son Stoppable-san and daughter Kansumi-chan--return like birds to your roost."
On the car ride back to Yamanuchi, Ron kept a protective arm around Yoriko's shoulder. "That bullet almost had your name on it, Yori. If you had died, I dunno how I would'a dealt with it."
"That is one of the risks we must accept, my Ron-san. We have chosen to battle the evil-doers. Causalities must be expected." But she (snuggled ) under Ron's arm. "Again you have saved me with your American-style heroism, Ron-san, as you did when Monkey Fist captured me. I thank the Compassionate Buddha who has seen fit to blend our two karmas on the same Path."
They scaled the steep path up to the waterfall as swiftly as darting mice. "C'mon, Yori--race you to the top!" taunted Ron.
"This is not fair, Ron-san," said Yoriko breathlessly. "Those shoes I wore were more appropriate for a nightclub girl than a ninja. My feet hurt."
"Ah," said Ron laughingly. "Just like a woman." And he scooped her up in his arms."
Yoriko squealed a little when he snatched her up. And she managed to shift herself so she was riding piggy-back. But she marveled. His pace did not slacken as he raced up the mountainside. She could feel the hardness of his shoulders as she curled her arms around his neck.
Ron was feeling the same thing he felt when Yoriko rode behind him on the motorcycle. Her arms and legs were curled around him. She was not meaning to entice him, but it was having that effect.
The Ronunicator was blinking when Ron arrived to his quarters.
"There's an e-mail--From K.P.!"
Yoriko's heart tightened.
It was a picture of Kim in a bikini—and a note.
Yoriko's mouth tightened. The indecent little tramp--immodestly showing her navel!
Dear Ron-dog,
I miss my daily Ron-shine. But I thought I would send you some Kim-shine. Can't wait to wear this when I come to visit you! Then you can wrap me in your arms to keep me warm up there in the snows!
P.S. Say hi to Yori!
"Say hi to Yori"?" Who was fooling whom? It was cold war between these two! Oh, Compassionate Buddha, Yoriko prayed, open Stoppable-san's eyes! Oh God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Let not my Ron-san be snared by the red-haired green-eyed spider!
At supper, Yoriko and Ron sat together.
Hirotaka approached them. "Prefect Yato has sent word. Both Omi and Yabu were set free. Someone posted their bail. And no one noticed that they were being held on serious charges. An 'administrative oversight'.
Ron's lip curled. "Yeah--we got those in America, too."
Hirotaka continued. "Their bodies were found not two hours later outside the Nuchi gang house. It appeared that they killed each other."
"I'm sure," said Ron, "And sushi is made of kosher pork."
"I think I understand your American-style sarcasm, Ron-san," said Yoriko, "And I must agree. It is another ruse."
"Sensei has ordered me to alert our network of graduates and operatives." said Hirotaka. "They will look carefully for Fukushima--and his ally."
It was after supper that night that Yoriko approached Ron. "Would you consent to come with me, Ron-san?"
Yoriko led Ron on the narrow mountain trail. At some points, the mountainside was a sheer rise on one side and a sheer drop on the other side. She went first on the path and held his hand as he followed her. In her other hand she carried a lantern.
There was a saying in Colorado--and Ron had heard that it applied to other mountain areas. After sunset, night fell like a stone. In flatlands, dusk might last for almost an hour, but in the deep valleys, it was a matter of minutes. In the deep valley at the foot of Mount Yamanuchi, there was the glimmer of lights from the small village.
Ron gazed out on the scene. "It's beautiful, Yori."
"It is the village of Kenjijen, my birthplace. Here I grew up, with the children of Leo Harte-sama: Daphne-chan and Richard-san--whom you call 'brother--and whom ninja everywhere call the 'Lionheart'.
"Has your family always lived here, Yori?"
"As far back as we can trace--back to the founding of Yamanuchi--except for brief times when the sons were called away by duty or left to make their fortune. My grandfather Ichiro Kansumi-san served as an ensign in the Imperial Navy during the Second World War. After the war's end, he returned to the home of his youth and married. They had several sons and daughters."
Yoriko continued. "It was in those days that a Christian teacher came to Kenjijen. No one remembers his name. Your American general, Douglas Macarthur, governed our country following the war, during the American occupation. He sent for many teachers to come from your country. Some to teach your language, some to teach American-style ways of employment, and some to teach American-style religion."
"Hmm," said Ron. "I think I know where this is going."
"My father Akiro Kansumi-san became a Christian. This created a rift between him and his father, a devout Shinto. He attended a seminary in Manila, the Philippines. He met and fell in love with another student, Katrina Mercador. They wed. They settled here in the village where my family has lived for generations. But he wished to bring the light of Christ to the people here, so he founded a church. He wrote to a missionary society, asking them to someone to come and help him in his work."
"And Leo and Mariah Bess Harte came."
"Yes. My father has proven a powerful preacher. Many in Kenjijen have embraced the Lord Christ."
"And somewhere around this time is when Kenjijen's cutest girl is born," said Ron teasingly.
Yoriko giggled. "Stoppable-san. If I did not enjoy hearing you compliment me so much, I would make your training regimen twice as rigorous for such shameless flirtation."
Ron began to wonder if he might be overdoing it just a little. "And Daphne and Rich were born, too. But don't let me interrupt your story, Yori. I think you were about to tell me that your parents tried to raise you as a Christian."
Yoriko sighed. "How could it be otherwise, Ron-san? What parent does not hope their child will embrace their beliefs? Otherwise, how could any society or nation hope to endure? Yes, my father oversaw my education. If anything, this grieved my grandfather more than my father becoming a Christian."
"Did he try to interfere?" asked Ron.
"Not directly," said Yoriko. "But in the stories he told to us--the Harte children and myself--he included many of the old legends of our land--tales of the gods and heroes."
"Which explains why Rich is so into mythology."
"Yes. He ate and drank of the old stories like a starving man eating bread and drinking water. And it did not compromise his Christian faith. But with me, it gave me a hunger to know the old ways of my people."
"And your father wasn't too happy with that."
"No. Furthermore, my grandfather and Sensei were old friends, though I do not know how they knew each other. He was determined that I attend Yamanuchi."
"Daphne and Rich learned how to be ninjas. Why didn't their parents object?"
"My father felt the weight of our national heritage and religion. Hardly ten percent of Nipponese are Christian. He wanted his family to be an example, and I bore the stigma of the daughter of the presiding church elder. He was especially worried that the ninja training would draw my heart away from the Christian faith. They did not argue violently--but there was great resentment between them for several years."
"I see you're a Yamanuchi student--how'd it finally work out?"
"My mother prevailed on my father. She reminded him what the Christian apostle St. Paul wrote. 'Parents, do not provoke your children.' She convinced him that it I were forced to believe in the Lord Christ, then it would not be a true belief of the heart, but only a sham. So my father gave me leave to do what I wanted. And I applied to attend Yamanuchi. And the rift between them only widened."
"Wow," said Ron sadly. "Sounds heavy."
"It breaks my heart. In so many ways they are the same--men of integrity, honor, and generosity. If the earth were populated with such men, we would have no need for a Lotus Master--and no need for temples or churches. Every person's heart would be a sanctuary to God."
Ron remembered the teaching of the Jewish prophet Jeremiah.
But this shall be the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel. After those days, says the LORD, I will put My law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts I will be their God, and they shall be My people.
And they shall teach no more every man his neighbour, and every man his brother, saying, "Know the LORD." For they shall all know Me, from the least of them unto the greatest of them, says the LORD: for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.
"Yeah. We can hope. Someday. "We should go, Yori."
"Stay but a moment, Stoppable-san. It is almost the hour. Look carefully, down there."
The dim outline of a church steeple could be seen. Out of the house next to it came a moving dot of light.
"That is my grandfather. Each night he goes out side to light a candle in the little booth--a shrine to Hachiman, the god of war"
"Every night? How come?"
"I was born at this very hour of the night. Grandfather lit a candle to the gods every night since my birth, as a prayer for my admission to Yamanuchi."
"Every night?"
"Without fail. In all weather, heat, cold, and rain."
"Wow. Must've worked. What does your dad say?"
"It is another point of contention between them, but my father will not dishonor his father by opposing him."
"Where I come from," said Ron, "Most kids--or spouses--would move out--or have the parent move out--when there's a really serious disagreement over religion."
"In my family, Ron-san, such a thing would be unthinkable. In this my father and grandfather both adhere to the old ways. Respect, especially of an elder, is paramount. To dishonor an elder is to blaspheme God--or the gods. I myself was torn between both their wishes. But because my grandfather is our living eldest, and because I had already confessed the Lord Buddha instead of the Lord Christ, my father at last relented."
"So you're a Yamanuchi student. Booyah for that." Ron nudged Yoriko. "Makes coming here more fun when there's someone as cute as you." He could not see her face in the dark, but he was sure she was blushing.
"Again you make me blush, Ron-san," said Yoriko with a little laugh. "I must make your training more rigorous--so you will learn not to take so much delight in embarrassing me."
"That's so gonna take a lot of training, Yori."
Yori waved her lantern back and forth a few times. The lantern in the valley waved back and forth in response. "My grandfather," she said with love in her voice. "There is no man I respect more--not even Sensei."
"I'd like to meet him, sometime, Yori. He sounds like quite a guy. And the rest of your family, too."
"Yes--the gods willing." The gods willing--he would meet her family--and ask her father's permission to marry her--in due time. "We should be going back now."
"Sounds good. Let's hit the homeward trail."
At the mention of the word "homeward", Yoriko's heart did flip-flops again. The thought of her and Ron-san calling the same place "home"... Yoriko Kansumi, she chided herself. You must practice the self-discipline. Your fantasizing distracts you. It will break your heart!
But on the return trail, Ron-san did not walk behind or in front of her. They walked side by side, and he walked on the outside of the trail, where it dropped away. And where the trail narrowed, he put his arm around her waist, holding her close. And she put her arm around his waist, bidding her mind to be silent, and letting her heart drink of the closeness of his presence.
At Yamanuchi, Ron walked Yoriko to her room. "A gentleman always escorts a lady home. And thanks for showing me the view. It was really badical."
They hugged. She smiled as she said, "Good night, my Ron-san."
And Ron smiled. "Yeah. Training in the morning. See ya."
She slid the panel shut behind her, knelt, and lit her candle.
Compassionate Buddha, she prayed, open his eyes that he may see the Path. Oh gracious Lord Adonai, God of the Stoppable-san, and God of his fathers, I am not of Your Chosen People. Yet I humbly ask that my plea might reach Your Ear. May this unworthy one find grace in Your Sight. I bind myself to whatever trial You would see fit to lay upon me, if only that most noble warrior would find his heart drawn to his true home--and to the one who truly loves him.
Yoriko actually realized with shock that she would gladly convert to Judaism. And why not? The Compassionate Buddha never claimed to be the Almighty Deity, Whose Name His Chosen People of the House of Israel refrained from speaking out of awe. They said that from this Deity preceded all light, understanding, truth, and goodness. Before her stood the living embodiment of goodness. He was the Chosen of this generation, the Destined of this age to bear the Blade. And none but the pure of heart could wield the Lotus Blade, it was taught. No greater honor could befall a woman than to be his consort. But she must practice what the Buddha taught: un-attachment; not to want, hope or desire. Her motives must be pure. The gods had a way of denying the dreams of those who desired too strongly.
And somewhere in the world, a buxom woman wearing a lab coat and large glasses sat down at a desk with a dapper-dressed man. "Now, Mr. Oakes, I'll be working closely with you over the next year. I'll be administering a series of injections, half gene therapy and half synthetic hormone. We'll be performing a number of surgeries, bone, muscle, and skin grafts. I must tell you ahead of ahead of time, parts of it will be very painful. We'll also be putting you through a regimen of physical therapy, so your new body parts will maintain their muscle tone. Oh, it's such a shame. I'm a geneticist, you see, not a surgeon."
"Don't sweat it, Dr. Hall. I have complete faith in you," said Jackie Oakes.
"If only I had my genetic zipper," lamented Dr. Amy Hall. "Or if only you hadn't lost that Egyptian medallion. Then your transformation could be completed in moments, instead of months. It's that girl's fault--Kim Possible--that little meanie! And her obnoxious boyfriend. And that annoying little pink buck-toothed rodent! I do with they hadn't changed him back." She glanced over at her husband. "Monty, don't you agree? We would all be better off if Kim Possible and her entire Team could be turned into a bunch of harmless Cuddlebuddies. Including those two upstarts--the twin brother and sister."
"Yes, dear," he said absently. Montgomery Fiske brooded. He was a titled English nobleman, a member of the House of Lords, the tenth Earl of Westchesterwick. The American was gaudy and cheap. He passed himself off as an athlete and a high-powered promoter of athletic events. He was an announcer at pro wrestling matches. He imagined himself a master criminal. He dealt in stolen museum artifacts. He had a gift for empty flattery. And he knew how completely turn the head of Monty's wife--Dr. Hall, Lady Fiske, Dame of Westchesterwick--or DNAmy, as she was known to the law enforcement agencies of the world.
"Please, Dr. Hall," said Jackie Oakes, "Don't distress yourself. Life has taught me to be philosophical. We cope. We can be winners in spirit. Wouldn't you agree, your Lordship?"
" 'Mister Fiske' or 'Professor Fiske' will suffice, Mr. Oakes," said Monty Fiske glumly. Was that a gold tooth he saw when that the man smiled? His very skin looked oily. Slippery smarmy blighter.
Fiske had promised himself that he would retire from his quest for power--he would content himself with his scholarly pursuits, and allow his wife to conduct harmless research. He cursed the day an old acquaintance walked into their lives with an offer.
Fiske thought he detested Kim Possible and her boyfriend more than anyone in the world. He found someone he despised even more.
TO BE CONTINUED