Krista Perry <kperry@aros.net> wrote:

It is tradition that there be one
master and one student, and that the student take the life of the
master.  That's why, after Kenshin learned the succession technique, but
didn't kill Hiko, Hiko tried to pass on the both his mantle and the name
of "Hiko the 14th."  Kenshin refused both, thus ensuring that the
dangerous school would die with him.

Unless, of course, Hiko -- annoyed beyond words that his idiot pupil refused to take the burden from him -- started looking for another student. Of course, it would take him a long time to find one as worthy as Himura Kenshin. A long, long time ...

----

Stupid, stupid boy.

He's been gone for over a hundred years, and that's still how I think of him. Best student I could ever dream of having, and what does he do? He turns me down. Wants to let the school die out.

Stupid, stupid boy. You can't let this sort of thing die. It wants to live, just as much as any human does. It won't let you let it die.

So I spend what should be the best years of my life -- my retirement, even -- searching for someone to take this bloody mantle. And nobody else is even remotely worthy.

And here I lie, in some dirty Tokyo alleyway. I don't even want to think about what year it is, because that will tell me how old I am, and I'll feel even older than that. But I can't stop until I find someone who deserves --

Ah. Right on schedule, the police are arriving to clean up the alleys. Ever since some conglomerate started building a pyramid in the middle of town, the local law has been getting a lot nastier.

I suppose that I ought to do something about this. But as I pull myself to my feet, the agony of my arthritis making me grimace, I can tell that I'm not going to be in time to stop that one cop from breaking open that fellow's head with his truncheon. Dammit. But --

The stick in the fellow's hand intercepts the truncheon. He's a lot faster than I thought he'd be, parlaying the shock of the parry to the cop's arm into a jab into his gut.

The brute squad clearly wasn't expecting any resistance today. The guy's defense gives me a bit of an edge, and I quite easily mop up the rest of them.

Then I can turn to look at the guy. "You're pretty good with that stick," I say, wincing inwardly at how reedy my voice sounds.

"thank you." But at least I sound like I have something to live for.

Wait a minute. I stare at the guy for a moment, bringing his long, stringy, pink hair into focus ...

That's a *woman*. I've been thinking about giving my precious art to a *woman*. I ...

I am almost out of time.

"What's your name?" I ask at last.

"utena," she replies in that same, dead tone.

Well, why not? She can't possibly be worse than the stupid, stupid boy.


Chris Davies.
(Take *that*, Adrian.)
______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com