A/N1: All hail Tada-sensei! (Because Itakiss doesn't belong to me. Never has, never will.)
On the surface of the matter, a bout between the fully grown man and what appeared to be a pre-teenaged boy should have ended decisively and within the first minute. That is, unless the ones viewing the match knew the participants. Cheers from the onlookers seemed to favor the boy, especially when his smooth evasive maneuvers more than made up for his opponent's longer reach.
Finally, the adult called, "Halt!" and the whirling dervish in the white gi and topknot stilled and bowed to his sensei. "Well done," the instructor stated then turned to the rest of the students and clapped his hands. "That is all for today. Sho, remember to practice the katas. Toma, make sure to wrap that ankle tightly tonight. Ko-kun, stay a bit after."
The teacher's earlier opponent bowed then headed towards a door opposite the one through which the others streamed, voices chattering as they replayed the earlier match.
Some quarter of an hour later, after most of the students had left, Ko knelt on the mat, facing the teacher. "Sensei?" he asked.
The man's eyes seemed to focus on something far away. "It has been several years since you followed your cousin Sato into my dojo, and within a few months you had surpassed him, who had been my student for over a year."
The child nodded.
"You were so small that I named you 'Mouse', thinking that you were a small timid thing. I was soon disabused of that notion, for you used your size and quickness to bring down much larger opponents."
"You still call me that, sensei."
"Indeed, for it yet suits you. A mouse can move around unnoticed, for the most part, and when you added stealthiness to speed, you became an unstoppable force."
"Not quite," he demurred, "I still do not win every match."
"No one does, my child. And do not put on that humble expression, I know quite well how many shelves your uncle has had to nail to his walls to hold the trophies."
"My apologies, sensei. But surely conversation is not why I am here."
The man sighed. "How many bouts have you lost in competitions within this prefecture during the past six months?"
His head tilted. "None. And yet that still does not prove my earlier statement false."
"I did not say it did. But the truth remains that, as of now, the only one in the area who has a chance of defeating you is sitting before you. My little mouse, it is time for you to move on. Without a variety of opponents, you will not progress further."
"Sensei–?"
"It is time for you to find a new teacher–and new opponents. Did I not hear that your father lives in Tokyo?"
"Yes," he nodded, "but he thought it best for me to grow up among other children."
"And you have." The older man smiled. "If my own adopted son, who I trained years ago, could stand to live in that city I would send you to him. Alas, he prefers to stay away from a place which caused him much pain. However," he raised a hand, "he was not my only apprentice."
"And is this apprentice in Tokyo?" he asked.
"Yes. If I ask it, he will take over your training. Although that brings to mind the question: Is this what you want to do with your life? Being a martial arts sensei? The career paths available in this somewhat rural area are neither as varied or plentiful as you will find in the city."
"What are you saying, Master?"
"You came to me, needing an outlet for grief and homesickness."
"But I enjoy it!"
"I do not advise you to abandon it, but, perhaps, see if it can take another position in your life. If nothing else, a few bouts here and there will help maintain your skills and health."
Teeth biting his lip, the boy nodded. "You speak wisely. I shall write my father this evening and ask if I may join him."
"It is my belief that you will have a bright future in Tokyo, Little Nezumi. Now," he stood, "take your leave. I am sure that you do not want to miss one of your aunt's meals."
"You are correct on that," he said, grinning as he bowed to his teacher. He added a jerky one as he went through the doorway, noticing Sensei's wife on the porch holding a toddler.
"Was it that difficult, Kazuma-chan?" she asked.
"It is the lot of a teacher–and parent–to prepare a child to be an adult and then to let them go."
"That is not an answer. However," she smiled, "I noticed that you appropriated my vision of the 'bright future'."
"My flower, over the years I have come to trust in your instincts."
"My 'waves', you mean. And it took me years to convince you of their existence."
"Come, my love, let us not bicker but return to our home. And perhaps later we will see about a younger brother or sister for our little Tohru."
There was hardly any portion of free wall space in the small bedroom. An assortment of shelves, few of them matching, displayed ribbons and trophies. The winner of these pieces of metal and cloth sat at a desk, completed a letter, and then sat up straight to read it out loud.
Dear Otosan,
How does this letter find you? I hope that you and the restaurant are doing well.
I have some news which I hope will please you. Master Soma has said that I have reached the point of needing a new sensei. There is one he recommends who lives in Tokyo, and if you are willing to have me live with you, I shall move there in the school break before third year.
I am hoping to hear from you soon.
Your loving daughter,
Kotoko
A/N2: Just a teaser chapter for this story which I FINALLY finished. Just a note of caution, I am not a martial arts expert, so please don't 'ding' me too much; I'm going to try and keep sporty things vague.