“Are you okay?” I asked, glancing at Becca.

“What?!” she snapped.

Several days had passed. We had just finished sparring, and were meditating by one of the creeks in the hidden valley.

“You seem off.”

“What do you mean off?” she asked sternly.

I sighed at her evasion. “You seem haggard, rundown. Your clothes have been degenerating and are now in really rough shape. And I think you’re losing weight even though you eat all the food at lunch. There’s something wrong, but you haven’t told me and I just can’t figure it out!”

“Hey!” she yelled, jumping to her feet, “just because you’ve got it all figured out doesn’t mean some of us have it all so easy. Shit happens!”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, I don’t need your help!” she yelled, grabbed her bag, and stomped off towards the gorge.

Well that escalated quickly. I should probably start on my apologies… as soon as I figure out what to apologize for. I stayed by the creek for a tenth bell figuring she would cool off and return, but when she didn’t, I got up to look across the hidden valley. I couldn’t see her anywhere in the valley, and when I reached out with my spiritual sense, I couldn’t feel her either. Perplexed, I grabbed my personal effects, put on my duster and hat, and started towards the gorge after her.

When I got to the large break in the footpath within the gorge, I was flummoxed. How did she get out of here? Did she get out of here? I wouldn’t want to leave and accidentally strand her in the valley, so I marched back to the valley and carefully looked around with both my sights and my spiritual sense. Another tenth of a bell confirming she wasn’t in the valley and I concluded that somehow she had managed to leave.

Well, she probably went home or to her dojo. I guess I can start at Master Wong’s since I don’t really know where she lives. And with that thought, I formed an ice bridge through the gorge and headed back to the City.

***

Nearly a half bell later, I finally found myself standing outside Master Wong’s dojo. I took a quick glance around, before entering through the front door.

“Hello, can I help you?” I was immediately greeted by a young woman sitting at a low table drinking tea with two teenage boys.

“Ah, yes, I was looking for Rebecca Little. I understand she is a student at this dojo.”

“Oh!” the young woman looked surprised, “you picked a bad day to come looking for her.”

“Why is that?”

“My name’s Archie by the way,” she said, flashing me a smile. “What’s yours?”

“Evert. Now why is it a bad day to look for Becca?”

“Ugh, is there anything you want to talk about besides that bitch.”

“No,” I replied coldly, “I am only here to find Becca and I don’t care for your attitude. Now. Why. Is. It. A bad day. To look. For Becca?”

“Hah,” one of the young men replied amusedly, “More like a bad day for Becca. She came by early this morning and received a letter. Terribly upset about it. Then disappeared all day again like she has been recently. Then popped up again, running in here a half bell ago, ran back out almost as quick.”

“And,” the other boy continued, “I haven’t seen Master Wong around for a while. Maybe he’s finally decided to kick her out of the dojo and her apartment.”

“Apartment? How would he kick her out of her apartment?”

“He’s the landlord too.”

“Oh great,” I said rubbing my temples with one hand. “Can one of you please tell me where she is or, absent that, where her apartment is?”

“And why do you want to see her?” the girl—Archie, I think—asked.

“Yeah and what’s in it for us?” one of the boys asked beating his chest metaphorically.

“I am simply her friend and trying to help. You can help as her friend by answering my questions.”

“Hah!” all three of them snorted. And then Archie continued, “Becca doesn’t have a single friend here. You try putting up with her shit day after day and see how long you enjoy her company.”

The irony of that comment aside, “Then how about twenty marks?”

“I got it,” the blond on the left jumped up and ran over. “Name’s Jonas,” he said putting out his hand.

I fished out twenty marks, and palmed it into his hand. “Now, let’s get going.”

Jonas led me out the door, and to the right. It was already dusk, and the shadows were growing deeper. After only fifty meters, we turned right again, before he stopped and pointed at three girls huddling around a doorway another eighty meters down. “You see those three? That’s the apartment. Those are probably her roommates.”

I brushed past him without stopping, and quickly closed the distance to the door. As I approached, I called out to them, “Is this where Rebecca Little lives?”

“Yeah,” a short red-headed young woman responded, “for about another ten minutes.”

“What happened? I heard she received an upsetting letter.”

“Brad died.”

“Brad? Haven’t heard of him. Were they close?”

“Psssht!” the taller brunette laughed, “About as close as nemeses can be.”

“That is,” the heavier blonde continued, “they were the opposite of close. And—by the way, who are you?”

“Evert Kallstrom. Rebecca’s friend,” I paused for a moment, “you were saying?”

“Oh,” she continued, “if she didn’t tell you about Brad, then it’s not really our place to say. I mean, we don’t like her, but we’re not breaking the girl code.”

“The girl code?,” I took my head off to rub my temples more vigorously this time. “What is this, some teenage romance?”

“No, we’re serious,” the brunette continued, then her eyes drifted up my head. “Hey, isn’t that one of the cult symbols?”

“Cult symbols?” I asked, but was quickly spoken over by the other two cooing their agreement.

“Oh damn, I was looking for some dramatic showdown between the boyfriend and Master Wong, but when he finds out you’re a cultist, he’s going to flip his shit.”

“There was so much wrong with that statement I don’t even know where to begin,” I replied with my face the epitome of confused. “Please move,” I asked nicely, “I’m going in.”

“Okay. But leave the hat off. We want to see what happens when Master Wong finds out you’re part of the reason Becca is damaged goods.”

I had taken a few steps towards the door, but paused at the last statement. “If I were you,” I said, sending a bit of killing intent at them, “I’d leave, now.”

As I finally got through the door, I could hear the three of them scrambling to get away as fast as they could.

The door actually opened into a courtyard, which the apartment building wrapped around. There were at least a dozen apartments, and I was just about to wonder which one to go in when I realized there was faint shouting coming from one directly across the courtyard. I moved carefully towards the door, straining my ears.

“—this is completely unacceptable Rebecca. You have upset a community of people living in this apartment building with your actions. You have mucked about and become little more than gutter trash to those here. And you have degraded my dojo. You hardly show up, and have failed to satisfy your obligations, financial and otherwise, to the dojo—”

As I stepped through the interior door, I saw Rebecca seated in a chair with her head between her knees. Next to her lay a large bag roughly filled with various personal effects. And Master Wong loomed over both, chastising her.

“—but I am a reasonably man. As long as you are willing to renounce this cult with these ridiculous bands, I am willing to loan to you the marks for two months of expenses at very reasonable—Who the hell are you?” whipping around when I was only two meters away.

“Evert Kallstrom. And I don’t take kindly to … whatever this is meant to be.” Well that came out weaker than I needed it to be.

Master Wong glanced back at Becca to see her looking up at me with a surprised face. He distinctly looked at the head and arm band weights visible on Becca before looking at me and conspicuously eyeing my headband, before looking over me from head to toe.

“Well, well, well,” he said calmly, finally deigning to reply. “I can see what she sees in you. There’s certainly that distinctive, dashing look to you. But a young man like you can’t just use Becca as a playtoy. Huh,” he huffed squinting and staring at my eyes, “or an old man? That’s weird,” he mumbled under his breath before continuing at full volume, “What I was saying is that you can’t just use her as a playtoy. She needs a proper Master, a firm hand to guide her, preferably with two fingers, and a spiritualist who’s actually seen a thing or two about battle, boy,” he added, then placed his hands on his hips in triumph.

Through that entire monologue, Becca and I stared into each other’s eyes trying to understand each other and ignore the doddering old man. When the silence had stretched long enough at the end of his proclamation, I turned a hardened glare at the old man, replying firmly and softly.

“Fool. Becca has more potential than any single one of your students in this dojo. And she will before this decade is over surpass you even at your height. And right now, you are a poor master if this is how you think it is appropriate to treat your students. For all the strength that Becca has and will have, she is still young and even if she did wrong in your eyes, this is not the right way to chastise her. Fortunately, she no longer needs your guidance.”

“Hah!” Wong barked, “If you think I’m going to let my prize pupil go just because you have a few fancy words, then you are as naïve as you are young. Now,” he grumbled, “flee!” he exclaimed as he threw one arm out to the side.

In the silence that followed, all you could hear was the sound of furniture being moved in the apartment upstairs.

“Flee!” he repeated, and made the same gesture.

In the second silence, an objective observer may have questioned whether the sound upstairs was furniture being moved or merely rocking, but all parties present were too focused on the present to notice otherwise.

“Well, that’s awkward,” Master Wong mumbled to himself, tapping himself on the chest. “Say, do you feel any sort of pressure or a sudden need to flee? As if you were in great danger?”

“Oh?,” I replied in genuine surprise. “Is that the game you want to play?”

“I’m not trying to wreck my own apartment building. I’m just trying to scare you off,” he said, taking a step towards me and moving to poke me in the chest.

Before his hand connected, I caught it in a vice grip.

“Ack!” he cried “Let go of me you fool! You’re hurting my—” and was cut off when I released my spiritual pressure and focused it on him. He fell to his knees immediately, “Oh fuck,” he cried hoarsely, “who the hell are you?”

Through gritted teeth, I responded with but a single word: “Die,” and released my killing intent as well. Master Wong immediately went limp and fell to the ground. Bottling my ki back up, I knelt beside Master Wong and started rooting through his clothing for his coin purse.

“Di—did you kill him?” Becca asked hesitantly.

“Huh,” I said looking up at her, sheepishly reminded that she was present. “No, of course not. Wait…” I paused, feeling for his pulse. “No, he’s still alive.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Becca replied relieved and looked off to the side.

“Maybe if I had a few more months,” I continued, and Becca gasped, but I didn’t leave her to linger with that thought. I grabbed her sack of belongings and pulled her up. “Come, let’s get out of here.”

***

Night had completely fallen, and we were making our way along the main roads heading west. There were no public lights in the streets of Dorflich, but the moon was bright tonight, and enough light spilled from the nearby buildings to light our way. We had been walking in silence for several minutes when Becca finally decided to break it.

“Master Wong only ever unleashed his full killing intent on us once. It was training, maybe a year and a half ago. At first, it was just his spiritual pressure and it seems like so. much. power. But then he let his killing intent leak and it was terrifying. Up until that point in my life, it was the strongest spirit I had ever felt.”

She paused at the end there, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. But a minute passed and she continued.

“Four weeks ago, you released your spiritual pressure on me and it was on an entirely different level, if not two. You hadn’t even released your killing intent, but even so, the emotions which I suffered were unlike anything I had ever had. Awe. Fear. Desire. Did you know, I was manic afterwards for a bell or more?” she asked, seemingly amused at herself. “And I knew then just how weak Master Wong was.”

“Why did you still live there?”

“When I joined the dojo, I had to live in the dorms there. I hated it. It was charity, and I wanted—no, needed independence. Perhaps, I wasn’t as focused on my training as I should have been, as I was always trying to find ways to make money, and it only got worse once I got further along into F-rank.

Eventually, I saved up enough to lease an apartment with roommates. But just when we went to look, rent had reached a new high in the City, and the money just wasn’t going to go far enough. Master Wong owned the apartment building and while he didn’t usually rent to students, he agreed to do so for us, even at a reduced rate.

You met my roommates?” she looked at me, and I nodded silently, “They weren’t … friends. Not really. But I thought we were at least friendly. And so it was for several months. And then over the winter, I started having problems paying the rent monthly, and so I was forced to make smaller payments every week instead. My usual income had dried up significantly, so I took to hunting in desperation. I tried some older groups that were going after E-ranks, but they screwed me over on the cut, so I had to get younger groups and go after F-ranks.”

“But, a group of F-rankers should take on an E-rank?” I asked, puzzled.

“Yeah, like theoretically,” she said waving her hands. “But with a party of five, you’d still come out of that with a serious wound or worse once every twenty fights. And it’s worse with a group that’s fighting up a rank, than an individual, as the defense of the individual members is low.

Master Wong disapproved of my hunting, but I was already through his intermediate lessons, and wasn’t terribly impressed with his teaching at that point. And whether he was my landlord or not, I needed the money for rent. Like I said, it was hard to find groups, and I rarely ever got ahead or got any savings. This had been going on for months. When you met me, Reggie was supposed to be getting a group together, but all he wanted to do was get in my pants,” she cried in exasperation. “What a silly boy.”

“But that was almost five weeks ago now,” I pointed out. “What have you been doing for money since then?”

“Well I… didn’t. And, uh, that was a problem. I scrounged up a few marks when we had just been sparring, but then well—you know—and at that point I didn’t have time to make any. I was burning through my savings, so I started cutting dinner. Then even that stopped, and I didn’t have a mark to me name.”

“And your roommates?”

“Pah! They didn’t care. I got a few scraps of food from them, but they wouldn’t lend me the marks for the rent. They knew it was just a matter of time until Master Wong evicted me, and they were all like ‘bye, have a nice life.’”

“And so Master Wong thought he saw a woefully misled young girl who was squandering her savings, being unproductive and throwing away her life.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought something like that.”

“I heard Brad died.”

Becca’s face, which had grown soft on this walk of ours, hardened with a burst of emotion. It was difficult to tell if this was from pain or anger. We walked a full block in silence, and I still couldn’t quite parse it and eventually relented.

“I understand if you don’t want to tell me about Brad. It seems like an intensely personal matter for you and you should only come to me once you feel comfortable with that.”

“Thank you,” Becca replied quietly.

“But,” I continued firmly, “why didn’t you tell me about your money woes earlier?”

I thought her face had been unreadable at the mention of Brad’s death, but with this change in subject, Becca’s whole body stiffened and a complex interplay of emotions danced across her face. Fortunately, she was willing to talk.

“I… couldn’t. In four weeks, the training you’ve given me has been worth a year of training. The physical training is novel and fantastic. You’re a better unarmed sparrer than Master Wong despite professing no aptitude for it and you dedicate almost all your time to me. And I’ve. Never. Had anyone do such a good job helping me through the Steps of Spiritualism. You could charge ten thousand marks a month, and yet you don’t ask for a thing. I’m,” her voice cracked here, “not. Good enough. To be your student. I feel the constant need to… appease you. And I just… couldn’t bring myself to show I wasn’t good enough to handle myself.” Becca sniffled and wiped her face on her sleeve as the night’s silence enveloped us again.

I let it reign for only a minute.

“A Master must have some interest in their student’s lives outside the dojo. Master Wong did. And that was good of him. He was just wrong… and, I suspect, a pervert. He was wrong to call you weak and worthless. I know that you have the dedication to being a spiritualist and that you’ll one day far outstrip Master Wong. But, in any event, that’s not the important point. I am, as I have repeatedly emphasized, not. your. Master. You don’t need to appease me or prove your worth to me. I am training you because you are my friend. That’s all.”

Once again, we lapsed into the silence of the night.

“Thank you,” she eventually replied. “Still,” she said, turning her head to me, “I can’t just take marks from you. I’d… I’d be in your debt, and I can’t do that.”

I smiled softly at that and looked at her as we walked along. “You’re right. Friends don’t have debts with each other. But we can help each other out sometime,” and then turned my head back to watch where I was walking in the dim light.

“Huh,” she replied and then turned silent.

Several minutes passed before it was broken again.

“Wait, so you weren’t exaggerating when you said that I would surpass Master Wong at his peak?!” she asked incredulously.

I sighed deeply at that, stopped our walk and turned my head towards the moon. “Becca. One day, they could send the Queen, the Big Four, and all their guards, and they wouldn’t lay a scratch on you.”