Vol. 3 Epilogue

School's almost back in session.

That means it'll be really nose to the grindstone time. More studying, more cram school, just going and going at it until that fateful day in January where I get one try to get into my preferred college or end up as a ronin...

It's less than half a year until entrance exams and I still don't know what I want to do. I'm going for kinesiology for the time being, because I guess that would be a plus if I want to become a full-time karate instructor...but I don't actually need a degree for that. I'm already an assistant here at the dojo- I’ve been helping since I was fourteen, but I’ve finally gotten my certification from the Association. One day the entire place will be mine.

Really, I don't have to go to college at all. But I want to. And at the same time, I still don't know what I want to do when I get there.

Maybe I'll switch majors. Oh well. No point in worrying about this now. I've got a few more months to think about it.

For now, I'll sit here in the changing room of my family's dojo, dirty laundry strewn all around me, enjoying the cool breeze from the fan in front of me. I really don't want to move. I've taught 2 classes today- the under-9s at 8 and the under-12 girls at 9:30...and I get a little break while my dad takes care of the seniors' class at 11. The dojo is over a hundred years old, so we don't have AC. Which means it gets hot during the summer, and I still have 2 more classes to go. I'm milking this break for all the time I have.

I can hear the thumping of the mats outside and occasionally my father's raspy, stern voice, but I'm hardly paying any attention. My mind's drifting back to Comiket. Even a year ago, I never imagined that I would have that kind of experience. I wouldn't have gone to that kind of thing on my own. But it was fun because I'd never done anything like it before. Coming together as a group to work on something, facing challenges but still meeting your goal, and then getting to see the results of your hard work...I actually used my martial arts discipline in a way that I never would have thought of before.

A year ago, I also never would have imagined I would have been reunited with my childhood friends, either. It's so weird, thinking about it. How everything fell perfectly into place. If just one situation had been a tiny bit different, I would have continued down the same path I was headed- doing nothing but martial arts because it was my entire life. And I guess I would have done it until I died.

If I hadn't gone to visit my grandfather in Chiba when I was young, I wouldn't have met Kouga and Shiritori and the president (apparently) for the first time. If my parents hadn't decided to move back with my grandfather when I was in middle school, I wouldn't have visited Shinchoushi and fallen in love with it. If I had been a better captain, and had caught those second-years before they went out of control, I wouldn't have had to apologize to Kouga. If I hadn't apologized to Kouga, I wouldn't have realized who he was. If I hadn't realized who he was, Shiritori wouldn't have taken my hand and dragged me into her world whether I wanted to go or not. And if Shiritori hadn't forced me into her world, I wouldn't have ever gotten close to her. Or Kouga. Or Suzuran. Especially Suzuran. I don't think we ever would have met if not for everything lining up so perfectly.

I've never had a lot of friends growing up, so I'm not exactly sure what makes someone your friend, but I think they're my friends.

It's so peaceful here. I can't keep my eyes open...just for a bit-

"YOU! WHO D’YA THINK YA ARE, SHOWIN’ YER FACE ‘ROUND HERE AFTER EVERYTHING-"

The first thing I hear is my dad's roar, and then my eyes snap open and I flail around in a panic. How long has it been? Fifteen minutes? Thirty minutes?

When I open the door and run out to the dojo, it's empty. The senior's class is nowhere to be seen. The only person I can see through the door at the other end of the floor is my father, standing still in the entranceway, still in his gi, the black belt contrasted against the pure white of the uniform, looking toward the door that opens out toward the house and the front gate, standing still with his arms at his sides. As I approach, I realize that he's as tense as I've ever seen him.

"Dad, what's going on-"

Then, the silhouette in the doorway comes into view.

A lean shape, dressed in bright, flowing colors like a runway model, with a shock of long hair, dyed like a host, flowing out from underneath a black felt hat perched on the top of his head. A pair of wide, well-spaced eyes, a pointy chin without a wisp of hair on it, a half-cocked grin...

Clinging onto his pant leg, a small boy with dark blond hair and deep blue-gray eyes timidly peeks out from behind.

...I'd recognize that man anywhere.

"Katsumi?"

"Hey, Shun. Long time no see."