7. Phonecall
The next day dawns bright and clear. Extraordinarily, Master Fung allows his pupils to sleep in after the events of the previous night. They awake mid-morning to find sunshine pouring into the temple like melted butter looking for a lobster.
After stumbling into breakfast and ascertaining that, yes, it was all real, they get down to the serious business of eating and only look up when Master Fung arrives, followed by Dojo, and tells them that he's sent for Master Monk Guan to help figure out how their inter-dimensional visitors got here, and what ramifications there may be. In the meantime, they're to go out for a regular unsupervised training session before chores.
"Ugh, chores," the other Kimiko groans. She's wearing a spare uniform, which hangs off her a little but has been belted tight. "I'd forgotten that part of normal life."
"You can do my share, too, to help you settle in," says Raimundo, though his smile is a little strained and his eyes flash uneasily at her. "I don't mind."
"Thanks, but I'm sure, as leader, your sense of responsibility will stop you from taking advantage of the situation for your own gain."
"Uh … sure," he replies, watching Master Fung's aerobic eyebrow. "My sense of responsibility. Right."
The training session is an interesting study in their differing fighting techniques. Since the Shen Gong Wu of the other world were so unreliable, the other Kimiko and Clay have developed a more basic, visceral style. They're no less devastating, however – though unrefined, their powers have great strength and work well when used together. They blow through one of Omi's favourite courses in under a minute, arriving on the other side without a scratch and with a crushed and burning mess in their wake.
It's almost a competition. Kimiko finds herself thinking of Omi, Raimundo, Clay and herself as the 'home team', defending their rep. By the time the session is over, everyone is dripping sweat and panting like overheated dogs. The temple grounds are missing several chunks, and debris is dumped everywhere, but everyone is too invigorated to care that they'll have to clean up later. Kimiko can't remember when she last had so much fun training.
She excuses herself so she can go change into dry clothes, and is surprised when her doppelganger elects to stay with the icky sweaty boys. It's like she doesn't even care about personal hygiene – or perhaps she's too wrapped up in their company to interrupt it with a shower. She stares intently at Omi while he waxes lyrical about the Treasure of the Blind Swordsman, and Kimiko watches her a little before taking her leave.
However, she doesn't head straight for the washroom. Instead, she just dabs hastily at her face with her sleeves, grabs her cell phone and wedges herself in the eaves of the Shen Gong Wu Vault, where it's cooler and she can be certain of a little privacy at this time of day. She may be stinky, but if her doppelganger can stand it then so can she.
The line doesn't connect at first, but after a few moments of echoey clicking she hears the telltale whirr. Her toes wiggle in her shoes.
Clack. "Tohomiko household. Tohomiko Suguri speaking."
"Mommy?"
"Kimiko? Hold on. No, no, I wanted orange not pink. No they will not suffice! Do you see any orange in this room? Take them back, please, and provide me with what I have ordered and paid for. And be quick about it! I have seen faster snails. My apologies, Kimiko. Decorators. Such imbeciles. Dropouts to a one."
Kimiko forces herself to relax. Her mother's familiar snappiness has made the hairs on her arms stand on end. There's a reason she never introduced the guys to Suguri Tohomiko when they went to Tokyo that time. Mrs. Tohomiko would probably take one look and demand her daughter came home that very instant so they couldn't corrupt her marriageability one iota more.
Like many older Japanese women, emancipation only cuts so much ice with Mrs. Tohomiko – about as much as a soap hacksaw. She still holds true to the idea that every girl needs a husband and should one day produce children and keep home for him. It's about as far from Kimiko's worldview as possible. Until she was rescued and sent to the Conservatory, (or Whiz Kid Academy, as she dubbed it) the life her mother had planned for her was all she had to look forward to after the free rein Papa allowed her in childhood. The thought of her narrow escape still makes her queasy.
Yet what she learned last night weighs heavy on her conscience. The sadness in her double's voice when she talked about that little charm; the shine of her eyes, just visible in the gloom…
"Why are you calling my cell, Kimiko? Are you all right? Do you want to come home?" The eagerness in her mother's voice makes Kimiko want to hang up, but she doesn't.
"No. I just … called for a talk."
"Oh. Well, your father's not here right now, but I'm sure you can reach him at his office -"
"No, Mommy, not with Papa. I just called to talk to you."
"Me? Why? What do you want?"
"Nothing!"
"The last time you called me you wanted to borrow a kimono – which I believe ended up ruined and in a dumpster outside your Uncle Shinji's restaurant."
"Uh…"
"Can you be brief? I'm very busy.""
Typical. They haven't talked in months and Mrs. Tohomiko's still willing to sacrifice her daughter to the spirits of interior decorating. She's done every room in the house at least three times, and that's just this house. Last time she got bored of dressing and redressing rooms she made her husband move to a bigger place.
Kimiko sets her jaw. She won't give up. Not this time. Xiaolin warriors are known for their tenacity, right? Never give up, never give in, even when the whole universe has imploded around you? Sound familiar? "Because … we don't talk much."
"You never have anything to say to me that I want to hear. Like you've realised how ridiculous this 'Xiaolin monk' fad is and you're coming home on the midnight plane from Shanghai."
Screw Xiaolin tenacity. Kimiko starts to hang up – when suddenly the wan face of her doppelganger flashes into her mind. Damn it."Mommy," she gabbles, words pouring from her mouth like sand in an egg-timer, "I wanted to tell you that I … thatIloveyou."
"Kimiko. That's …" Her mother pauses, as if searching for words – or perhaps making frantic hand gestures at whoever she's with. 'My daughter's been abducted by aliens and her replacement is really starting to freak me out!' "That's very sweet of you," she says at last. "I'm sure I don't know what's brought this on. Honestly, such outpourings down a phone line – it's rather distasteful. I'd expect better after all the money your father lavished on your education. All the manners of an uncultured troglodyte. What happened to all those etiquette lessons we paid so much for? Incorrigible, absolutely incorrigible." The snappishness is back in her voice, as though she's irritated with Kimiko for springing that on her.
Kimiko's thumb touches the 'call terminate' button. Her stomach is distributed between her kneecaps, but jerks upwards at the next, unexpected words.
"But I suppose I can't say I'm upset about it."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm saying you're right, you silly girl. We don't talk nearly enough. I barely know what's going on in your life anymore. Oh, wait – be careful, you stupid man! Can't you see you're going to knock things over if you swing about like that?"
The rest of the call passes uneventfully. Mrs. Tohomiko tells her daughter all about the new décor of their Okoyama house, so different than their Ginza house, and Kimiko makes appropriate noises. When her mother asks how things are in the temple, however, she doesn't mention the other Clay and Kimiko. Mrs. Tohomiko may be conservative, but she does love her daughter. She complains bitterly, and frequently makes noises about forcing her to leave the Dragons, but she did allow her to go live in China – even though Kimiko's still, technically, a minor. Nevertheless, tales of alternate dimensions and the things that go on there may be too much for her to handle – especially over the phone.
Afterwards, Kimiko closes her cell and presses the aerial to her lips. It's astonishing, but speaking to her mother hasn't left her with the usual bad taste in her mouth. In fact, she thinks she actually feels cheered after talking to her. There was something comforting in hearing about boring stuff like decorating the kitchen.
When she leaves the Vault, it's to find her own gaunt face looking back at her.
The other Kimiko doesn't comment, but she eyes the cell phone and purses her lips in a knowing sort of way, before hefting a full bucket of water across the courtyard towards the steps Omi and Raimundo are already scrubbing.
And so pass the next few days. Master Fung and Dojo continue to work on understanding the hows, whys and wheres, while the other Kimiko and Clay work on integrating themselves into daily temple life.
Luckily, daily life chooses not to involve any rogue monsters or attacks from the forces of evil. They're probably still licking their wounds, and Kimiko finds it isn't so bad having another couple of Dragons around, even with the freakiness factor. It certainly makes the chores easier – even if they do just create more for themselves by churning up the scenery when they train.
Author's Notes:
In this chapter Kimiko's relationship with her mother makes reference to her 'marriageability', which may sound odd given what we know of Kimiko's personality in the show. To explain it I feel the need to point out something about women in Japan.
Susan Napier writes that Japan has gone through one of the biggest ever cultural overhauls since 1945, typified by its economy, its embrace of technology, and the changing roles of its population. In particular 'the growing independence of women and the changing role of the family' show the country's uneasy relationship between tradition and modernisation (pg.140). Traditionally Japanese women are seen as passive holders of established gender roles (wife, mother, homemaker etc.) and appearances: 'Carefully made up faces, painted lips, plucked eyebrows … their bodies carefully rounded, straightened, padded, into the current shapes for breasts, waists, hips' (Scov and Moeren: 1995: pg.1). They were expected to devote themselves to these roles and strive after the ultimate happiness, which is to say, marrying and producing a family. It's only in relatively recent times (historically speaking) that they've begun to break away from these stereotypes. Granted, it's a sweeping statement to say all Japanese women always adhered to these roles, but in modern times it's become more acceptable for them to hold other positions, such as those held by their Western counterparts. This has not been fully accepted in all corners, however, resulting in a curious half-Western, half-Japanese double-standard that women are expected to live up to.
Kimiko represents the next step in this relationship: she isn't so closely bound by tradition as previous generations, but her mother, one step behind her on the scale, still expects her to fulfil the usual role that she herself did when she married Mr. Tohomiko. She's not being mean, or anti-feminist, nor is she trying to make her daughter miserable; she's only giving voice to the common feelings of her generation. Somehow Kimiko, like many young Japanese girls, is supposed to adopt the freedoms of a more liberal society without giving up on the customs of the old; she is supposed to be both conservative and progressive at the same time – something fundamentally difficult, if not impossible. She thus embodies the identity crisis facing Japan, not just in its gender wars, but in its whole national consciousness.
And this is where I get a kick up the arse for being so pedantic about fanon for a cartoon character.
Bibliography:
Napier, S. J. 2001 Anime from Akira to Princess Mononoke: Experiencing Contemporary Japanese Animation. Palgrave: New York.
Skov, L. and Moeran, B. (Eds.) 1995 Women and Media Consumption in Japan. Curzon Press: Surrey.