FictionPress.com - let the words flow| FictionPress.com - let the words flow |
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
It’s been a long time since I updated a manga piece, so I hope you enjoy this new installment. This marks my first humor fic on this site, and I hope I do well with it!
“OOOOHHHHHHH!!!!! I can’t take it anymore!!!!!!”
“Just keep breathing!”
A miracle was in the works. In the third wing on the fifth floor of Togisan Hospital, last door on the right, 27 and 25 year old Mr. and Mrs. Kanasha, respectively, and Dr. Satoshi and his team were delivering their newborn son.
Or at least, the doctors and Mrs. Kanasha were delivering her newborn son; the father was still cursing about the idiocy of having the delivery room on the fifth floor of the hospital.
The doctor assured her “Mrs. Kanasha, you’re doing real well. Just keep pushing!”
However, his assurances were cut short by a screaming woman crying out “Easy for you to say; your kind don’t go through labor! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!”
Mr. Kanasha tried to comfort his wife. Taking her hand, he said “Honey, just let the pain go. Clear your mind of all pain. There is nothi- aack!” He was interrupted by a sweating hand that had grasped his collar, and violently pulled him towards Mrs. Kanasha’s face.
“This isn’t one of your martial arts training techniques, Mitoshi Kanasha! There is a 7 pound boy coming out of my-“
“Very good, yes, we almost got it! There’s the head!”
“Oh my sweet lord, Samai, he’s wonderful!”
And it was finally over, as Dr. Satoshi wrapped the crying baby boy in a towel, and handed him over to a now joyful Mrs. Kanasha. “Oh my stars, he is wonderful!”
Dr Satoshi checked his watch, and informed the new parents “The time of birth is 11:59 AM, August 5th, 1988.”
“The year of the dragon.” whispered Mr. Kanasha to his elated wife.
“I guess all that’s left is a name.” said the doctor, pen and birth certificate at the ready.
Smiling lovingly at her new son, the new mother answered “His name will be Tentou; Tentou Kanasha.”
Tentou would have been satisfied with his new home: there was the living room with a decent tan sofa guarding the color television hiding in the corner, and assorted items scattered across the room including newspapers, books, snacks, and of course, the new toddler toys.
Handing Tentou over to Mrs. Kanasha, Mr. Kanasha said “Wow, I need to go to the bathroom. Watch over him for a moment.” And he left her with Tentou as she laid him in a cradle.
It was as if he didn’t want anything to do with the wooden cradle, with its soft, white and blue ridden blankets. As soon as his head touched the pillow, Tentou let out a cry that seemed to shake the window panes.
“Tentou! Tentou, what’s wrong?”
However, as expected, Tentou only answered by crying even louder.
“Shhh, shhh, Tentou, there’s no reason to cry. Umm, Mitoshi?!?” she cried as she looked towards the bathroom past the hallway that led to the bedrooms.
Judging from the lack of answer, Mr. Kanasha was still doing his business.
“Oh, what will I do?” wondered Mrs. Kanasha, pondering if a baby could possibly die from screaming its lungs out. If yes, then it seemed as if there was nothing she could do about it.
And yet, she wouldn’t give up. She turned back to Tentou, who still screaming his head off, and noticed something: little Tentou had his head turned towards the center of the room, left arm seemingly clawing meaninglessly in the same direction.
“What, what is it?” wondered Mrs. Kanasha for a brief second. It hit her like lighting. “You want to play with something, don’t you?” she said to Tentou, set on crying until he got what he wanted.
She turned towards the center of the room, which was littered with random objects. It seemed as if she was on one of those mother quiz shows, and this was one of the harder questions.
“Well, I can rule out books and papers, I know!”
She grabbed a baby blue rattle from off of the floor, and shook it over the cradle, saying “Do you want to play with this?”
Tentou continued to cry, expressing a clear ‘no’.
“Okay then,” she tossed the rattle over her shoulder, and picked out a second object: a teddy bear with a blue ribbon decorating its fuzzy head. “How about this?”
Tentou’s reaction was no different than before, except perhaps his screaming became slightly louder.
Panicking, she grabbed a box of tissues. A second later, she actually looked at the item that she had grabbed out of haste, slapped herself in the forehead, and went to search some more.
“I just don’t know what you want Tentou,” she sighed in exasperation, almost giving up after trying useless object after useless object. But then, she spotted the one thing that she hadn’t tried: a tennis ball from her tennis classes. “Well, I don’t see why not...”
She held it above the cradle, and Tentou suddenly took notice. “Eeeh, eeh,” he grunted, reaching for the green ball.
“Okay, here you go, whew!” Relieved, she lowered the ball onto Tentou’s chest. He giggled contently as he slept with the ball nestled against his cheek.
It was at that moment that Mr. Kanasha stepped out of the bathroom. He muttered “I knew I shouldn’t have had the sushi for lunch.”
Walking into the living room, he saw that his wife was laying down, exhausted from the ordeal that had just occurred. “Samai; Tentou didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”
Not moving from her position, she replied “No, not one bit: we had a ball.”
“That’s good.” said Mr. Kanasha, sitting on the small chair next to the cradle.
Not looking up, he answered “These are pictures of martial arts weapons.” Mrs. Kanasha noticed that there were seven weapons in total: the katana, the nunchaku, the kama, the bo staff, the tonfa, the naginata, and the jutte. (1)
“I’ve decided to let my master train him in the art of combat,” said Mr. Kanasha, carrying Tentou out of his cradle. “Tentou was born in the year of the dragon, and that means he is not only unique, but also destined for greatness. Since he should be able to crawl, we’ll let him choose which weapon to master.”
“Now Tentou, take your time.” he said to Tentou, who was looking at his father almost quizzically. Watching her husband set him down on the carpet, Mrs. Kanasha asked him “Why must you have our son to be a warrior? I mean, it’s not like assassins pop in through the window everyday you know.”
He winked at her, and replied “Well, you never know.”
They heard Tentou give out an “eeeh,” and the two parents watched Tentou’s progress towards one of the papers.
Mr. Kanasha smiled gleefully. “Look Samai; I do believe he’s making his way towards the katana sword.”
And so he was. Tentou was edging closer and closer to the paper with the picture of the katana sword in the center.
Joyfully turning to his wife, Mr. Kanasha pointed out “Yes, he’s on it! He’s chosen the katana blade!”
But Tentou did not stop at the katana blade; he kept crawling. He kept crawling towards the corner of the room.
Mrs. Kanasha noticed this, and whispered to her husband “Look Mitoshi, what’s he doing?”
“Hmm?” He turned towards Tentou, and saw that he found a tennis racquet standing against the corner of the room by the handle. He put his weight on it, giving out a small giggle of satisfaction, and knocked it over so that it was lengthwise along the wall. From there, he poked his fingers through the net of the racquet
“Well, umm,” stammered Mr. Kanasha, “That doesn’t really serve as a practical weapon,”
“It serves something.” laughed Mrs. Kanasha, “I suppose our child really is unique.” Feeling that she wasn’t surprised at all with the outcome of the test, she watched as Tentou let out an ecstatic squeal as he set his hand on the handle.
On the Line
Chapter 1: A Prodigy
“Hya!”
“Again Kanasha-san!”
“Hya!”
“Harder!”
Tentou, now six years old with flat black hair and an alert body, was training under the tutelage of the old Master Kashikoi. Normally, Master Kashikoi doesn’t accept just anyone to become his student. However, he obliged to accept this thin, energetic, foolish boy because the boy just so happened to be the son of his former student, Mitoshi Kanasha. Mitoshi had put in a good word for his son, Tentou, and shared with his master that one day he hoped that Tentou will grow up to be graceful, swift, and powerful.
Unfortunately, all that Tentou had proven so far was that he was sloppy, slow, and for the most part, uninterested in the sacred arts. But master Kashikoi was determined to teach this boy. After all, his school was one of the only ones to be declared a ‘real’ martial arts school that was still legal in the country. Because of this, most parents didn’t want their children enrolling in these types of schools because of the rigorous training.
Tentou snapped a quick kick to the side of a wooden dummy. His master had told him that when he could break the 5 by 5 inch chest, his training would truly be complete. Having hearing this, Tentou was very determined to break it, if only to end the training once and for all. Inside, he didn’t want to train by doing endless push-ups, carry water up and down steps, or break through pieces of wood with his bare hands. All he really wanted was what any Japanese six year old wanted: to be with other Japanese six year olds.
However, he knew better than to complain: his master was very strict about his training, and would punish him severely if he showed disinterest in the arts. Furthermore, he was allowed to see his parents on weekends. It wasn’t that Tentou didn’t want to see his mother and father; it was the fact that his father would be most displeased if he knew his son didn’t want to become a warrior like he once was.
And so, he kept kicking, probably in vain, as it was highly unlikely that a six year old could possibly break such a large board like that.
Sensing that Tentou was at the end of his rope (and leg covered in bruises), Master Kashikoi clapped his hands over his long, gray beard, and said “Very well Kanasha-san, that’s enough. Now, fetch the naginata for your weapons training. I’ll be back with some tea.”
“Yes sensei.” replied Tentou, grasping his throbbing leg. He hurried towards the weapon rack, and picked out the long pole with a large blade at the end. Twirling it gracefully (although it was only because he didn’t have to kick or punch with his limbs), he slowly made his way to the center of the training floor. The training floor was in front of Master Kashikoi’s modest house, so when he came out with a tray of tea and rice, he was facing the training area.
When he descended the few steps toward Tentou, apparently God had so much of a sense of humor that he placed a loose tile on one of the steps. Balancing the tray on one hand, Master Kashikoi was about to drink from his own cup.
It happened so fast: he stepped on the loose tile that immediately gave way, making Kashikoi slip just enough so he had to grab the tray with both hands. Unfortunately, that meant that the cup he was holding in his other hand was sent flying towards Tentou.
“Kanasha-san!”
Tentou looked at the cup that was en route for his face. He swung the blade around so the flat side was facing the cup, and deflected it successfully.
Right back at Master Kashikoi.
It hit the tray, sending hot tea and rice all over his master’s white robe. Master Kashikoi jumped up and down in pain, and Tentou fearfully tossed the naginata away as if he thought by throwing away the telltale weapon, Master Kashikoi wouldn’t know who did it.
Had the tea not been hot, Tentou might have guessed the steam was coming from his sensei’s ears. Master Kashikoi’s death glare seemed to bore a six inch hole through Tentou’s chest. Tentou pondered whether to take off in the other direction just in case his master wanted to launch a stray spear at his face.
“You impudent fool! Kanasha-san; you will do back-flips until I get this all cleaned up! And if you’re not sweating by the time I come back, you will be very sorry indeed!”
“Y-y-yes sensei!” he whimpered before starting his seemingly endless chain of back-flips. It was going to be a very long day.
Master Kashikoi finished sipping his tea, and replied “I sense a hint of fear in your voice. You are afraid of becoming a fighter, aren’t you?”
Embarrassed, Tentou stared at his wavy reflection within his tea. “What if I don’t want to be a fighter?”
His master looked to the cherry blossoms outside the window, and said “Look at the cherry blossoms: they bloom every spring, and fall off every winter. They please anyone who looks upon them between those times, and that is their destiny. However, when they bloom, the blossoms are not aware that they were made to be beautiful to the eye. It is the same with us Kanasha-san: We all are destined to be something, and only with time are we able to discover what we are meant to be.”
“So, sensei, what do you think I’ll be?” Tentou asked his wise master.
“Hmm, hard to say. Probably a handsome, albeit clumsy man.” They both shared a laugh, and Tentou turned to the cherry blossoms that had just begun to bloom.
Math: He hated math. In fact, Tentou hated most of his classes. He wasn’t academically adequate, and everyone within a two mile radius could tell you that. Tentou did have some academic knowledge: he was home schooled every weekend during his training years with Master Kashikoi. His training sessions with his sensei ended when he was thirteen so he could start high school, however his father kept training him by providing his son with weights, weapons, and other various training equipment.
Unfortunately for Tentou, he was probably better off still studying under Master Kashikoi: his grades were not the best Okasashi High had seen. Despite constant berating from his parents (his father in particular), his teachers kept sending the notes home that their son was inattentive, slacking off, and that his career lay somewhere among the fast food restaurants downtown.
“Hey Tentou; get a new haircut!” taunted a passing student.
“Shut up Yagi!” retorted Tentou. Tentou was particularly fond of his haircut, partly because he did it himself. His short black hair ended in several tendrils, six to be exact, that reached almost to the same level as the bridge of his nose. Many students wondered if Tentou’s vision was in any way hindered, and most of the teachers thought that his weird hairstyle placed a curse of laziness upon him.
Prof. Otagi stopped Tentou with a wrinkled hand, and warned “Kanasha-san, you better get to class.” as he flashed his watch at him.
The time showing on his watch made Tentou’s heart jump. “Oh man, only one minute left?!” Tentou despaired. He couldn’t be late for class! It wasn’t that he wanted to be in math class; it was just that Prof. Bokoru was irritated enough that Tentou showed up late to her class three times this month, and he really didn’t want that detention.
Running around a corner, Tentou panted as he gasped “Just one hallway left.”
Prof. Bokoru’s open classroom door was in sight. “I’m home free.” Tentou thought as a smile of relief crossed his lips.
But then, the bell rang.
A hand reached out to the doorknob from the inside. Tentou was still 30 feet away from the door, knowing that there was no way on earth he would make it running straight out.
Thinking quickly, Tentou took off his backpack, and tossed it across the tiled floor. It slid towards the door frame, and it wedged itself between the frame and the door. The owner of the hand that was on knob seemed surprised, and pushed the door back open.
Tentou, who was still running, finally reached the door, and scooped up his bag. When he stood up, he was looking into the face of a very displeased Prof. Bokoru. “Sorry about that Bokoru-sensei.” smiled Tentou. Unfortunately, Prof. Bokoru did not return the smile.
Prof. Bokoru was a very stern woman around forty. Even though she was shorter than most of the students, including 5’6” Tentou, she was often seen talking down to numerous misfits at one time. In fact, Tentou was just about to experience his tenth scolding from his intimidating math teacher.
“Tentou, I don’t know why you even bother. I really should give you detention right now. Late is when you are not in the class at the sound of the bell, not if you are not in the class after the door closes. Tomorrow, I expect you to arrive just on time. Then again, you’re probably not learning anything nonetheless. Now take your seat.” And she motioned to Tentou to come inside the class and be exposed to the laughter of the students who were on time.
Tentou always sat in the third row, far right. It was near the door, but not so close to the front that he would be noticed and called upon. When he sat down, the boy next to him asked him “Man, what’s her problem?”
“I don’t know Miki; she probably didn’t get her share of blood this morning.” Tentou whispered back.
If you could call Miki a friend, then they were very distant friends. Tentou only had this class with him, and they never met in the hallways or after school. Tentou was virtually alone. Before he entered high school, he thought finding friends would be easy. However, he didn’t mind staying out of the way of the jocks and jerks in the halls. As a result, Tentou was satisfied, yet empty, like a certain joy was missing from his life.
Prof. Bokoru began the lesson. “Now class; open your books to chapter 9: Trigometric Proofs. In this chapter, you have to be able to use your algebra skills to manipulate the problem, substitution in particular. For example: given the problem sin2x/cosx tanxsinx, you can only work with one side of the problem. You can turn tanx into sinx/cosx on the right side, or substitute a tanx for the sinx/cosx on the left side.” She wrote the example out on the board while the students took their notes.
Shaking his head at the board, Tentou turned to Miki, and whispered “I couldn’t do that well with numbers three years ago, and now they want me to do this with letters?”
Miki had to stifle a laugh, but they didn’t count on Prof. Bokoru’s cat-like ears. “Is there a problem Kanasha-san?”
Sitting straight up, Tentou replied “No, there’s no problem here Bokoru-sensei.” earning more laughs from the students.
Judging from the look on her face, Prof. Bokoru looked like she would issue that detention after all, when the class phone rang.
“That ring saved you Kanasha-san. After this call though, I’m going to wring your neck.”
Everyone but an uneasy Tentou laughed at the joke, and instantly quieted to listen to the call.
She pressed the phone to her ear. “Hello, Professor Bokoru speaking. Yeah, he’s here. Okay, but we’re right in the middle of cla- yes, I understand. Bye.” With a look of complete incredulity, she turned to Tentou.
“Kanasha-san: Guidance office, now.”
Wondering why in the world he would get called to the guidance office, Tentou stood up while everyone else teased him. “Oooooooo, Tentou, you’re in trouble!”
Before he knew it, Tentou was standing in front of the closed door with the words ‘Guidance office’ decorating the glass window. He opened the door, and walked in. Still puzzled as to why he was here, he beheld Mr. Tasukete; a tall, chubby man with short hair in his twenties behind his desk.
“Mr. Kanasha-san, have a seat.” He offered Tentou the blue-cushioned chair in front of him, and Tentou took it hesitantly.
“I bet you’re wondering why you’re here.” said Mr. Tasukete.
“Yeah, a little bit.” replied Tentou.
“Don’t worry; you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to review your schedule with you.” And he pulled out a file, and flipped across until he reached a sheet with a grid on it.
“As you know, one year of gym is required in the curriculum, and you haven’t taken a single class so far.”
“Wow, really?” Tentou responded, checking over his classes.
“Well, we’ve noticed you have study next period, so we’ve decided to switch that to your gym class.”
“Okay, when do I start taking it?” he asked.
“Oh, next class.” replied Mr. Tasukete simply.
Shocked, Tentou gasped “What? Well, that was a quick change.”
“It isn’t too inconvenient for you, is it?”
“Oh, no no, not at all.” Tentou quickly said.
“Okay, that’s all I wanted to talk to you about. Now, have fun.” A little relieved, Tentou rose from his seat, and made his way back to Prof. Bokoru’s class.
Tentou replied nonchalantly “Not much: he just making me take gym next class.”
Miki stroked his chin in thought. “Next class is gym huh? Interesting.”
Confused by Miki’s unusual look, Tentou asked him “Why interesting? Do you have the same class?”
“Not at all; I’m just waiting to hear how much athletic ability you have.”
Tentou rolled his eyes, and waved goodbye. “Later.”
As Miki walked in the other direction, he shouted to Tentou “If you get completely destroyed, just know that you only have four months of it!”
Mr. Hajite looked up, and noticed Tentou. “Ah. Class, I’d like you to meet our new student: Tentou Kanasha.”
Some of the students applauded him, but most of them simply gave a short, uncaring nod. In any case, Tentou returned a small smile.
“Now Tentou, I’ve noticed that you came unprepared for class, so I’m going to have to mark you down for that.”
Shocked, Tentou began to protest. “But, but, Hajite-sensei, I didn’t,”
Laughing, Mr. Hajite assured him “Don’t worry, I was joking. Now; we don’t have any uniforms on hand, so is it okay if you just wear your regular clothes until I get you a set?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” replied Tentou.
“Now, Kanasha-san, you came just in time. We were just going to start a new game: tennis. Do you know how to play?”
Tentou shook his head, and replied “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Well, let’s go to the courts, and learn how. Everyone, follow me.” And the group walked through the door into the fresh open air, and continued onward to the sports fields.
Mr. Hajite started to explain the game of tennis. “Now, if you’ve never seen a tennis court before, it is a large rectangle about 11 meters in width, and 24 meters in length. However, in a singles match, the playing area is only about 8 meters in width.”
They came upon the tennis courts, and Mr. Hajite continued his explanation. “As you can see, there is a net dividing the court in two. The lines parallel to the net are the service return lines, and are set about six and a half meters from each other. The space between the net and the service return lines is called the service court, which is also divided into the left and right service court by the center line. Is everyone getting all of this?”
Most of the students replied “Yeah!” or “A little bit,”
“Good. Now then, the game is played in two’s or four’s, each player with a racquet, and a tennis ball. Our supplies are right over there by the fence, so if everyone could grab a racquet and a ball, and join me on the court.”
The students ran to the boxes which contained the racquets and the balls, and in seconds, everyone had a racquet and a ball. Everyone except Tentou, who was last to step up to the boxes.
He looked into the first box: one green ball was left. With a sudden wave of euphoria, he noticed the ball wasn’t a dark, harsh green, but a friendly lime green. It smelled faintly of rubber, yet it was a fragrance that was very clear in his mind. It was as if he’d already touched one of these before.
Before he knew it, he had lifted the ball from the ground, and was tossing it in his hand lightly, about one inch into the air. He was so comfortable in doing this, but he couldn’t explain why.
As with the first box, Tentou looked into the second, and beheld a black rimmed, white stringed, rubber handled tennis racquet. The unusual shape; almost like a wedge, yet ended in an elliptical curve. The sides of the racquet were gleaming, as if calling out to him.
He gripped the handle, and at that instant, it was as if some part of him came back from the racquet. And at the same time, he could feel his very life force surging back through the plastic and wire. This racquet, this lovely object was a part of him. Part of who he was.
It was part of his heart.
“Hey, Kanasha-san! We’re over here!”
Tentou’s mind snapped back to reality when Mr. Hajite’s voice broke his trance. Taking the ball and racquet with him, he went to join the other students on the salmon blend and pine green clay courts.
“All right. Now, by yourselves, take the racquet, and hit the tennis ball lightly into the air. Get a feel for the ball and its movements. After that, I’ll call you in to demonstrate the rules of the game. Now, get to work!” And Mr. Hajite blew his whistle to signal the start of the exercise.
Some of the students were constantly losing control of their tennis ball from the first bounce off of the racquet. Most of the students decided to work with each other on their sloppy technique. Some of the students even took this time to talk with their friends, completely abandoning their ball and racquet.
Not Tentou: he found the corner of the court to practice. He lightly tossed the ball forward, flipped up the racquet, and watched as the ball made contact with the crossed strings. A smile came to his lips as the ball and racquet made an unusual ‘pang’ sound. It was a sound that was neither natural nor uninviting. It even came as a surprise to him when the sound was made. He was also surprised that it took so little effort to move this ball.
He never let the ball hit the ground: he kept hitting the ball about two feet into the air over and over again. With each hit, he kept the racquet almost perfectly level so he barely had to adjust. After about twenty hits, he started to flip the racquet over every once in a while, still keeping the ball in the air.
A sharp note on Mr. Hajite’s whistle finally caused Tentou to lose focus. When the ball hit the ground, it bounced back up to Tentou’s face, and he deftly caught it with a hand.
“Alright, everybody join me on the sidelines right here.” All the students hustled to the net post where Mr. Hajite was explaining the rules of the game.
“Now, I need two students. Hmm, how about Onibusha-san and Kanasha-san?” he said, pointing to the respective students.
Tentou stood up, and walked towards the front of the group to stand next to a thin, nervous looking boy. Mr. Hajite pointed to the opposite ends of the court. “Kanasha-san, you go and stand at that far corner of the court, and Onibusha-san, you go stand at this corner right here.” The two students obeyed, running to their assigned corners so they were facing each other across the diagonal of the court.
“Now, Tentou here is going to serve the ball over the net, and land in this service court in front of Onibusha-san. He is then going to try and hit it back to Kanasha-san, but this time, he can have the ball land wherever he wants, as long as it’s inbounds. You can let the ball bounce once before hitting it. But, if you let the ball bounce again, your opponent scores a point.”
“Okay Kanasha-san; usually you serve from behind the service line, but you may move closer to the net if you feel like it. To serve, toss the ball in the air and hit it overhand, or you may hit it underhand instead.”
Tentou heard all of this, but he was already comfortable on the court. Tossing the ball three feet into the air, he jumped about a foot to meet the ball at the apex. He swung the racquet, using all of the momentum in his arm.
‘POK!!’
The ball was launched with incredible velocity towards the left service area on Onibusha’s side. It hit the extreme corner of the area, and bounced way out of reach of Onibusha’s flailing racket. The ball proceeded to strike the linked fence surrounding the area.
One by one, the students turned their eyes from the ball, to Tentou, apparently shocked at what they have just witnessed. Tentou was also shocked at the outcome of his serve.
Shaking, Mr. Hajite ran to Tentou, and asked him “Are you sure this is the first time you’ve played tennis?”
Tentou nervously nodded. “Yeah, this is my very first time.”
His surprised teacher replied “Kid; that was a professional serve! That, that kind of serve, I, I only see on TV!”
One girl shouted from the sideline “Tentou, you should be on the tennis team!”
Mr. Hajite shook his head in disbelief, and said “Man, where were you last year, kid? We could definitely use you on our team. Tryouts are tomorrow after school, right here. Please show up.”
“Yes sensei!” smiled Tentou. He was ecstatic. Finally, a purpose in life. In all honesty, Tentou didn’t know what he was going to do, until now. He was going to become a professional tennis player! He was going to pursue his dream.
He couldn’t wait to tell his parents all about it!
