The masked and suited-for-combat man stared out at the small ferry boat Sakuro had taken to the Earth Kingdom. He had ordered for all of the refugees to be placed on the boat and to set it on fire in the middle of the ocean. He heard their burning screams and thought it only right that they should pay for not apprehending Sakuro.
"Hori?" The masked man turned sharply around at the mention of his name. Nobody on his ship knew it, he thought. Then he saw that it was the captain. The masked man, Hori, quickly put the captain into a very painful submission and whispered menacingly into his ear: "Don't ever say my name on this ship. You call me Admiral or General, understand?"
"Yes . . . Admiral," the captain whispered, pain clear in his voice.
"How do you know my name?" Hori whispered, even more menacingly this time, increasing the strength of his hold. The captain whimpered in pain.
"I . . . trained you when you . . . were young . . . in the art of . . . the Katana."
Hori's eyes widened behind his mask and he released the captain, who fell to the floor. Hori sought out quickly the Katana strapped to the back of the captain.
"Only firebenders can be officers!" Hori said angrily.
"Look at yourself, Admiral," the captain said as he stood.
"What do you want?"
"I just wanted to make sure it was you . . ."
"Get back to the bridge where you belong, captain, and don't let me see you stray from it." Hori growled. "And weigh anchor. It's time we go ashore."
(Break)
Sakuro was slammed into the ground once more in the town dojo, his arm twisted painfully behind him in a submission from the local sensei. Sakuro knew that the sensei was skilled, but nowhere near the skill level of Sakruo himself. But it was his job now. He was the demonstration dummy of the dojo, for the sensei to show new techniques to his pupils on. It was easy work, paid well, and he had his own lodging in the dojo, not to mention the half-priced beginner classes – not like he needed them. All he had to do was pay for his food and clothes, and he made a decent amount of money.
Back in the present, Sakuro's face was smushed against the cold bamboo floor. The sensei wasn't holding back at all with the pressure of the hold, and Sakuro's arm was beginning to hurt a lot. He feared that he might receive an injury, so he grunted to the sensei.
"Could you ease up on the pressure, sensei?"
"Ha ha! He wants me to ease up on the pressure! Tell me, class, do we ease up on our holds' pressure?" the sensei said, slightly increasing the hold's pressure as he did so. Sakuro's arm was raked with pain as the class shouted, "No, sensei!" in unison. Sakuro decided he couldn't take it any more. He sharply twisted his torso around, alleviating the pressure on his arm. Swinging his arm around, he slid one of the sensei's feet slightly. As the sensei shifted his position to regain balance, Sakuro twisted the arm the sensei was holding on to, breaking the sensei's grip and allowing Sakuro to grab his wrist and pull him to ground. Sakuro fluidly stood up and looked at the sensei on the ground, massaging his arm where it had been hurt. The class grew silent. The sensei stood up angrily.
"How dare you attempt to make me a fool?" he snapped. "You need to be taught a lesson in respect and humility." He took on a fighting stance of some obscure style and lashed one of his fists out at Sakuro, who simply bent his torso backward so that the fist stopped short of its target.
"I don't want to fight you," said Sakuro as he dodged two more punches. "Your hold was too tight, so I got out of it. Your pupils have now not only learned how to put someone in that hold, but to get out of it too!" Sakuro deftly brushed a kick to the side and slapped his forearm onto the crook of the sensei's elbow as he punched at Sakuro, effectively stopping the blow. Sakuro pushed the sensei backward to disengage as the sensei took on a new fury.
"No! You did not use Bak Mei! It is useless!" the sensei said.
"Obviously it wasn't useless," Sakuro muttered. The sensei heard him and gave a shout, launching a new flurry of attacks at Sakuro. Finally, Sakuro grew tired – not physically – of the sensei and hooked his arms in the other's, swinging him swiftly and releasing him. He fell to the ground and Sakuro leapt on him, trapping his limbs beneath his skillfully places legs.
"Do you yield?" Sakuro asked, snapping his fist into a ready-to-punch-position. While he had no intention of actually punching the sensei, Sakuro wanted the sensei to stop his unbecoming attack.
"No! Bak Mei is the ultimate fighting style! You cannot defeat me!" the sensei spluttered. Sakuro looked at the students, transfixed in horror as their beloved sensei was easily beaten by a young man from nowhere. They hadn't even given thought to the fact that they could've provided trouble for Sakuro if they all ganged up on him, even though Sakuro knew he could fight all of them and win.
"If you say so." Sakuro sighed and stood up. One of the students ran out of the building to who-knows-where. Sakuro sighed again. Probably the local authorities.
(Break)
Hori stood on the beach and looked to the south, where he knew Sakuro had gone. He turned to his small force of Fire Nation soldiers. He'd take them to the town where Sakuro would most likely be, have them burn it to the ground, and then go by himself after that – he knew Sakuro would not be caught in the first town he was found in. No, it wasn't going to be that easy, and Hori knew it. This would be his most difficult mission yet. Never before had he been told to track down a Fire Nation Army elite. It would be difficult, but he would do it.
He told his soldiers to march. Hours later, he crested a hill and saw a dusty-looking town below that was buzzing with activity.
"Burn the place to the ground," Hori said quietly.
"Sir."