Interlude: Honoka's Important Lessons, Part 3
"It's my turn!" Noburi said, his voice filled with exasperation.
"It is not! Your turn was this morning. There's a sheet, and this is my slot," Mari said.
"This was supposed to be my slot," Haru said. "Someone scratched my name out and wrote over it." He sent a fulminating glare at Mari.
"You sent me on errands this morning!" Noburi snapped at Mari, ignoring Haru.
"What's your point?" Mari's smugness was sufficient to make her a serious contender in the next election for mayor of Smugton.
"You stole my slot, so I should get this one."
"Pfft. As if."
"But we didn't have time to finish the circulatory system yesterday," Noburi said, a hint of a whine creeping in. "We had to leave off right in the middle."
Kaori walked up to the edge of the training field and sat down next to his wife. He unwrapped the napkin full of warm meat pastries he'd been carrying and offered her one. She took it with a whispered 'thanks' but didn't look away from the argument.
"What's happening?" Kaori whispered.
"Shh!" she said, nibbling on the pastry. "I don't want to miss it."
"Pah," Mari sneered, dismissing Noburi's complaint with a magnificently dismissive wave of dismissiveness. "It's noon, it's my name on the sheet for noon, and I'm your Clan Lady. Your Clan Lady—that's me, by the way—says to hush yourself and go sit down."
Throughout the conversation, Noburi had been working hard on his mastery of the Kill You With My Brain Technique. Fortunately for Mari, his mastery was lacking. Instead, he merely glowered at her and stalked to the edge of the field, plopping down cross-legged on the blanket next to Aoi and Kaori. He continued glowering at his former teacher.
"Yeah, he might be willing to fold up like a wet noodle, but I'm not," Haru said, folding his arms. "This was my slot and you scratched my name out so you could steal it."
Mari turned her nose up and sniffed. "I have no idea what you're talking about. That slot had been scratched out when I got there."
"Yeah, because
that's believable," Haru said with a snort.
"You mean you
didn't scratch your name out, Uncle Haru?" Honoka asked, breaking her silence for the first time. She had been looking back and forth between the various arguing grownup throughout the discussion.
"Of course not!" Haru said grumpily. "Why would I do that?"
Honoka ducked her head. "I thought maybe you were busy with something more important."
Haru dropped to one knee, leaning one elbow on it so that he could lean close to Honoka. "Of course not, Little Sparrow. This is very important."
"No matter what slander you might be throwing around, it's still not your slot," Mari said. "My name is on the sheet so this hour is mine." She hesitated. "Besides, you're way too violent. No grace, no elegance, no finesse."
"I fight to
win!" Haru snapped, standing up and rounding on Mari. "Screw finesse. Finesse doesn't win fights.
Violence wins fights, and the faster the better. That's what a fight
is—violence appropriately applied."
Mari sniff carried with it a wealth of the very essence of derision. "Oh, please. You're getting by on physique. Your form is garbage and you're covering it—barely—with power. That will only carry you so far."
"Yeah? At least I'm not wasting time on that bullshit Goddess Picks the Flowers form!" He posed in mockery, one wrist pressed to his forehead like a fainting maiden and the other held daintily in front of himself. He pressed thumb and finger together and drew it back as though picking up a piece of paper, or a blade of grass. "Oh! Woe is me! I am so delicate and full of finesse!" He dropped into a backbend, then walked over backwards, kicking his feet back and forth like a dancer. "Oh, la! Finesse!" He walked back to an upright position, sneering and completely ignoring the way that Honoka was breaking down in laughter.
Mari rolled her pale gold eyes. "Sage's bristly beard...could you at least know what you're talking about before you try to mock it? It's not like that"—she mimed the thumb-and-forefinger grab he had used—"it's like this." She closed her entire hand, thumb still touching forefinger so as to leave an oval space, with all fingers pressed together. "It's not
literally a flower-picking move, it's—" She broke off, glancing down at Honoka and then back. She used her free hand to touch her own throat, keeping it casual as though scratching an itch.
"Bah," Haru said. "A leopard strike will do the same thing but it's easier and more powerful."
"And completely unadaptive. You can pick flowers everywhere. Joints, nerves, fishhooking."
"Even if I were willing to grant that nonsense, which I'm not, it's an advanced form."
"No, it's an excellent training exercise that builds control, precision, and footwork. Later on it turns into an advanced form, and one that is much more effective than that sweaty and obvious clomping around that you call a style."
"Excuse me?" Honoka said uncertainly. "Uncle Haru? Aunty Mari?"
Both of the senior ninja looked down at the little girl they had completely forgotten was standing there.
"Yes, sweetie?" Mari asked.
"You guys are fighting again." Honoka's eyes were big and she was clutching her hands together.
Mari and Haru exchanged guilty looks and both took a knee so they could be on the same level as the child.
"We're not fighting, sweetie," Mari said. "We're having a discussion, and a disagreement."
"Your disagreement sounds a lot like fighting."
Haru snorted. "Sparrow, if Aunty and I ever start fighting, you'll know it."
"Really?"
"Mm-hm. You'll be able to tell by the trees being torn down and the earth being torn up."
"And the ghosts of the dead being summoned!" Mari said, wiggling her fingers at Honoka in spooky fashion. "And the dragons rising up to serve as our battle steeds!"
Haru shot Mari a warning look and she nodded in concession. Talk of dragons wasn't on the table in the Gōketsu household anymore. Not after everyone had seen what it sometimes did to Hazō.
"That sounds neat," Honoka said, her voice awed. "But scary."
"Don't worry, little one," Mari said, smiling. "We only do those things when we're fighting for real. Haru and I are just having a disagreement."
"When the kids at school have disagreements, sometimes we play rock-tag-kunai for it," Honoka said. "Maybe you could do that?"
The two 'adult' ninja looked at each other warily, then shrugged.
"On three?" Haru asked, raising one fist in preparation.
Mari nodded. "One, two, three!" She threw her hand out, palm flat to symbolize an explosive tag. "Hah!" She slapped it down atop the fist that Haru had thrown then brought her hand violently back, fingers miming an explosion. "Mine!"
Haru glared at her. "Fine. But I go next." He stood up and stomped over to the blanket, dropping down next to Noburi.
Noburi unsealed a bowl of popcorn and passed it over, whispering, "I think she cheats, but I don't know how."
Haru grumbled.
On the field, Mari was ignoring the byplay. She dropped down into seiza and gestured for Honoka to do the same next to her.
"Are we doing Goddess Picks Flowers again today, Aunty?"
"We are indeed, sweetie. Now, show me your plucking hand." She watched Honoka form the basic hand position of the form and nodded. "Good. Okay, let's start."
At the edge of the field, Haru grumbled, "I still say it's a stupid way to teach taijutsu."
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