The next day, Kaz and I started off with a similar routine. Pops had told after the meeting yesterday to meet him for breakfast at 8:00, and not to be late. Neither of us wanted a cane-wacking, so we were seated in the KCC with our omelets at 7:45. Pops joined us fifteen minutes later, at 8:00 on the dot.

“I see you took the liberty of being early. Keep up that commitment, because you start training with Zasha today. Meet her at 9:00 on the training grounds. Kaz, I believe you know where to find her?” Kaz nodded but didn’t stop eating. “Good. She will have training materials ready for you. I also have arranged for you to start a new, special training.” He focused his attention on me, and asked, “While this training was arranged for Kaz, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you tagged along. Are you interested?” I didn’t know what this mentor could teach me, but something about the gleam in Pops eye when he asked me indicated he really wanted me to go. What could be too bad about a little extra training? After all this madness, I was determined to learn enough sword fighting to catch up to Kaz, even if it meant I would need to put in extra work.

“Sure. Where do we go?” I responded.

“I’ll meet you after lunch back here to show you where. And when you go to meet Zasha—”

“Don’t be late, we know,” Kaz finished with a groan and last bite of omelet.

Kaz led us towards the training grounds, heading for the “Shack,” which was what Kaz told me they all called this little structure in the middle of the big open training field where the private instruction and lessons place. The conversation was sparse because neither of us were in a talking mood. I was nervous for what was about to come, while Kaz was lost in his own thoughts. While he had maintained his general resistance to doing anything Devon wanted him to do, I could feel his itch to get his hands back on a sword. He wants everyone to think he hates everything about this place, but I think his love of the sword overpowers that. His connection to this place runs deep, even if he hasn’t been here in years.

Am I a bad friend for not seeing it sooner? I wondered. How could he have such intense love for the art of the sword, and he had never even mentioned it to me? I couldn’t help but be a little hurt that my best friend would keep such a huge part of who he is from me. I was forced out of my brooding when we reached the Shack, as a shout from one of the trainers.

“Kahana! You’re late!” I saw it was Zasha, glaring at the two of us as she approached. The area of the Shack was about the size of three basketball courts put together, covered by a fabric material on top, but open on all sides. One section in the corner had soft floor mats, but the rest was a type of smooth concrete. There were different markings on the floor, squares and circles of various sizes that probably marked the boundaries for different exercises. On one side, a smaller structure housed legions of practice swords of many varieties. A few pairs of people sparred, but it wasn’t too populated. We reached the edge of the tent, greeted by Zasha, who had her arms crossed. She gestured for us to go to one of the marked areas along the wall and went to grab two practice swords.

“How often have you trained here?” I asked Kaz.

“Well, when I was little, Devon would occasionally send me out here to train. My mom didn’t really like having me out here with everyone being bigger than me, so often Sho or Zasha and I would spar in private somewhere else. I haven’t been in the Shack in probably ten years, though.” He looked over at one of the people sparring and his expression brightened.

“Hey! That’s Sho!” He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled, “Sho, get over here!” Sho turned upon hearing and immediately bounded over to us. He was sweaty from sparring, but that didn’t stop him from clasping Kaz on the shoulder.

“What’s up bro?” he asked, grinning.

“The usual, just here to kick your ass,” Kaz replied. Zasha returned at that moment, rolling her eyes at Sho.

“Are you poaching my students?” she asked with a raised eyebrow to Sho.

“Apologies, my lady.” Sho did an overly dramatic bow, but continued, “If I may have this bout with Kazuhiro Kahana?” He looked expectantly to Zasha, who scoffed but then shook her head and waved dismissively toward one of the marked areas. The two ran off, looking like two excited children who had just been offered ice cream. Zasha turned her attention toward me.

“Pops has told me to instruct you. How much do you know about sword fighting?” I considered all my life experiences up to this point. Unfortunately, not much helpful information on swords came to mind.

“What would you say if I said ‘absolutely nothing’?”

“I would say we have a lot of work to do. Come on,” she gestured to one of the unoccupied marked spaces, “we’ll start with the basic stance.” She handed me one of the swords she had grabbed and kept the other to demonstrate.

“Your left foot should be angled, like this. Make sure your back foot is solid. Hold the sword out in front of you, a little higher than your waist. For your ready stance keep it upright.” She examined my poor imitation of her example and started making adjustments. We proceeded to go through basic striking drills, blocking drills, and movements. The sword definitely felt clumsy in my hands, and I knew I must look like an idiot, but the years of martial arts had helped me to prepare for the type of footing and movement that was required. I couldn’t quite explain it, but there was something familiar about the stance, yet, it felt a little off, too.

We only stopped for a few minutes at a time for water and for to catch our breath. The only thing I felt good about so far was that I was in the right physical shape for this training and could keep up with Zasha — endurance-wise, that is, not in anything else. While I may be unfamiliar with swords, I was a practicing martial artist, after all. After over two hours, Zasha finally said, “Okay, I think that’s a good introduction for today. Let’s go have a look at the boys.” Oh right, them, I remembered. I had completely forgotten about Kaz for a little bit, my attention focusing only on the work in front of me.

We walked over to where Sho and Kaz were sparring. They were both dripping with sweat, but they showed no signs they intended to stop. I assumed they’d been going nonstop since they began. Sho noticed Zasha approached, but didn’t stop fighting.

“Oh hey,” he blocked a blow to his head, “glad you could join us.” He swung at Kaz’s hip. Kaz parried and returned. Sho took a step back to dodge. “Did you come over just to stare, or to spar?” Sho asked, sparing a second to look at Zasha. Kaz took the opportunity to strike his shoulder, but Sho spun out of the way. “Look Zasha, I know I’m incredibly good looking and you find me extremely attractive” — Zasha was very unimpressed by that comment — “but Kaz and are currently tied ten and ten. If you keep distracting me, I’m going to lose, and you’re going to owe me dinner.”

Zasha raised an eyebrow. “Why would I owe you dinner if you lose?” she asked. Kaz and Sho were circling each other now; they had come to a lull and were each looking for an opening. Sho once again spared the chance to raise his eyebrows flirtatiously at Zasha, and add, “How about, if I win, I take you to dinner?” Kaz, of course, took this opportunity to try to hit his head, but he was clearly expecting it and blocked it.

“You’re getting too desperate, Sho,” she said, rolling her eyes. “How about you just spar with Kaz and nothing else?” she offered, which shut him up.

Zasha watched their bout, her eyes were fixed on Kaz, but occasionally shifting to Sho. After about five minutes, she raised a hand in a “stop” gesture. They lowered their swords and looked at her.

“Kaz, you straighten your back completely every time you are about to strike to the head. You also drop your elbow to whatever side you’re going to hit if you go for the left or right. You parry fine, but you almost always go immediately for a counter strike, which leaves your other side open. Basically, you telegraph your moves and leave yourself open.

“I think you’ve gotten lazy, Kahana,” she continued. “It’s clear you’ve been practicing to keep up your skills, but you’ve become arrogant. Sho was clearly caught up in the fun and not fully in the game, but your opponents won’t be so easy to distract.” Sho smirked, but Kaz looked a little stunned. I guess he wasn’t expecting such harsh criticism. However, what she said must have been true because he nodded his understanding and took a ready stance again. Zasha nodded once to Sho and he took a ready stance, too. Then, they were at it again. Sho must have stopped holding back, because he hit Kaz more often. However, Kaz had taken note of what Zasha said, and improved quickly. He didn’t start winning entirely, but his moves were a bit cleaner after a few more bouts and comments from Zasha.

At noon, Zasha finally let us go. I turned to Kaz, and asked, “I’m assuming we go to the KCC for lunch, too?”

“Yeah, they make really good sandwiches,” Kaz answered eagerly.

“I swear, all you care about here is the food…” I muttered.

“That is absolutely true,” he said with only a hinto of sarcasm in his voice. “I can play with sticks anywhere, but there is no better omelets, sandwiches, and spaghetti than at the KCC.” Sho had been talking to Zasha, but he turned back to us.

“Did I hear you are going to be dining at the world-famous Kahana Compound Cafeteria?” he inquired in a fake British accent, wiggling his eyebrows dramatically.

“Indeed, only the finest dining for us very sophisticated individuals,” Kaz responded in kind.

“May I have the honor of joining you?” Sho requested.

“Why of course, good sir, please do join us!” Kaz finished with a theatrical bow, gesturing in the direction of the KCC. With that, the three of us bid Zasha goodbye and started back toward the cafeteria.

After we were out of earshot from the Shack, I snapped my head toward Sho. “So,” I asked intensely, “what’s going on between you and Zasha?” Kaz nodded his head, too, and looked expectantly at Sho.

“Well, if you call me asking her out daily and her rejecting me, daily, then yes, we have something going on. Otherwise, it’s just me being an idiot.”

Kaz laughed. “You ask her out daily? And she says no to you every time?”

“Well,” Sho defended, “not really daily. I suppose by now its almost a ritual. If I didn’t ask her, she would probably assume something is wrong with me.”

“Do you realize how desperate you sound right now?” I asked.

“I’m sure I seem absolutely pathetic,” he answered.

“Well, you got one thing right,” Kaz added. “Do you know why she always rejects you?”

“Clearly she just can’t handle me being the better looking one in the relationship.”

Kaz dramatically looked Sho up and down. “Um, no I don’t think that’s the problem.” Sho faked offense, then the two of them laughed. I was still unclear what exactly was going on between Sho and Zasha, but it seemed that it was out of my control. I need to get Zasha’s opinion on this, I decided.

Pretty soon, we reached the KCC. Lunch was fun, although it was mostly me wrangling the boys and reminding them to use their manners.