The early morning sun peeks over the courtyard walls.
Jiro and a grey haired monk circle each other, each following the other's steps, waiting for the other to make the first move.
"You know how this ends old man, so why not get it over with and give up?"
"What does that say about you? Beating up old men for fun!"
"Now you're playing the victim?"
"You're talking too much. Focus. And anyways you should know by now that the years give a man a few tricks up his sleeve."
The monk charges in.
He and Jiro lock together, each gripping the folds of the other's garb.
"For such a seasoned old man, you should know better than to make the first move."
Jiro tugs the monk's robes, breaking his balance, then turns his hips and flips him onto the wooden mat.
"And I already know all your tricks Genro."
"Ah, damn it!" The old man groans, wincing as he grabs at his lower back.
Jiro's smirk disappears as he quickly bends down to check on him.
"Are you alright? I didn't mean to—"
His feet are suddenly swept out from under him, and he lands flat on his back.
The monk rises to his feet and stands over Jiro, a grin spreading across his face.
"And you should never drop your guard."
Jiro springs back to his feet, a low grin spreading across his face.
"Oh, that's how we're doing things?"
He rushes at him.
They dive back into the fight.
Several minutes later, the two sit on the edge of the mat, breathing hard as the cool morning air brushes over them.
"Alright, that's enough for me," the older monk says between breaths.
"C'mon, we just got started."
"We've been at it all morning. It's time for breakfast—I'm starving. Cars don't run on empty."
The man huffs and pushes himself to his feet.
"I thought we were taught to master our bodily nee—."
Jiro's stomach lets out a loud growl.
"Seems I'm not the only one." He chuckles.
"C'mon let's go before Baku eats all the steamed buns."
"There are steamed buns today?!"
Jiro jumps up, and the two rush over to the mess hall.
Jiro slides the door open and steps through. Genro follows behind him.
He marches over to a long table and sinks down onto a padded mat.
A few men sit along the table, one of them a hulking monk with a plate piled high with buns.
"Baku, those better not be the last of the buns."
"And what if they are?" the mountain of a man says as he tosses one into his mouth.
The table goes quiet as Jiro and Baku stare each other down.
One of the monks cut in, "Here, we saved you guys some. No need to cause a ruckus like last time." He frantically tosses a few buns onto Jiro and Genro's plates.
The two break their stare, the tension fading as steam rises from the buns.
Another monk chimes in, "Have a good time getting your butt kicked, Genro?"
"To everyone's surprise, I actually got one over on the young buck today. Go on, Jiro—tell 'em how you ended up on your back."
He nudges Jiro with his shoulder, but he's too busy chewing to answer.
Another monk whispers, "I bet he pulled the old 'my back's hurt' trick."
"Tch. At least I'm out there giving him a run for his money. The rest of you gave up years ago, once he passed you in height." He bites down into a bun.
"Back me up here." He goes to nudge Jiro mouth full, but the seat beside him is empty.
"What the—?"
"Oh, here we go again." One of the monks perks up, pointing out towards the courtyard.
Jiro makes his way out at a slow, deliberate pace.
The old men crowd together like a group of middle school boys, watching intently—Baku included.
"What are we thinking today? Cold shoulder or the walk-away?"
One of the monks mutters, "I'm surprised he's got the balls to keep trying after she rejected him that bad."
"That was months ago. They've been friends since he got here. No way they keep up this cat-and-mouse thing," Genro says.
"A thousand yen says she doesn't even acknowledge him," another one cuts in.
Baku takes a bite of his bun. "Cold shoulder," he says between bites.
In the courtyard, Masaki kneels among the flowers, tending to them.
Jiro approaches but stops a few steps away.
"Are you planning on saying something or are you just going to stand there?" she asks, tipping a jug of water over the bushes.
"I haven't made up my mind yet. Didn't think I'd get this far."
"Okay, well what do you want? I have a lot to get done today," she says, not looking up from the flowers.
Jiro moves closer, idly fiddling with the flowers beside him.
"Do you ever take a break from these?"
She sighs, picks up her jug, and moves to another group of flowers.
"This may be your weakest attempt at small talk yet."
"Well it's not like you give me much to go off of."
"Listen, Jiro. We've already had this conversation more times than I would like. I'm not interested."
"Can't we just talk? Y'know, like before everything? We're still friends… aren't we?"
"You made it clear that you don't want to be just "friends". Now are you done? Some of us have responsibilities around here."
"What's that supposed to mean? I have responsibilities too."
"Wrestling with the elders hardly counts as a responsibility."
"Jeez, what's got you in such a bad mood today?"
"I'm not in a bad mood. I'm just tired of whatever this is. And I told you, I have a lot to get done."
She moves to pass, but he hasn't stepped aside.
"Now are we done here?" she asks, her tone sharp.
He moves to the side and lets her pass.
As she leaves the courtyard, she waves to the monks watching from inside the hall.
They all quickly turn away, suddenly fascinated by their food.
As Masaki rounds the corner, she nearly runs straight into Naku.
"Oh sorry Naku."
"It's no problem. Everything alright?"
"It's nothi—" She cuts herself off. "You've been training him all this time and he's still this dense?! You might want to try switching things up."
"I—"
She storms off before he can respond.
Naku perplexed continues into the courtyard.
"What's up with her today?!" Jiro asks.
Naku sighs and folds his arms.
"After all this time, you two still fight like you did when you were kids."
"This isn't the same, Naku. She's acting different today."
"Looks the same to me."
"Anyway, enough of this. Come walk with me. I need to talk to you about something."
"Uh, okay… everything alright?"
Naku nods and starts toward the corridor. Jiro trails after him.
"You know what's coming up soon, don't you?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Jiro smirks.
"You're finally becoming a man... on paper at least."
"It's just another day." He walks past Naku.
"I wonder if Old Lady Kiku will make dango."
"I'm sure she will."
They continue down the corridor before Naku slows to a stop.
"She made it your first week here. Been making it every year since. I'm surprised you're not tired of it yet."
"People don't get tired of treats. That'd be like you getting tired of drinking."
"That's a good point," Naku says with a quiet laugh.
"These past five years have gone by so quick. I remember how long it took you to leave your room that first time. You wouldn't come out for anything. Had to drag you out just to eat."
"Now you can't seem to spend more than a minute inside it."
Jiro shrugs. "Not much to do in there by yourself."
"I can barely remember how it was back then, feels like I've been here my whole life. And honestly I wouldn't change a thing.
"I could stay here… keep things the way they are. Look after the elders once they start going senile… Which at this rate is going to be any day now." He lets out a small laugh.
Naku looks at Jiro, a quiet seriousness settling over his face.
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about…"
"Y'know Jiro, the world is vast—there's a lot out there worth seeing, worth experiencing."
"Uh huh?" Jiro scratches his head, Naku's words clearly missing their target.
"The reason I'm bringing this up is that you're too young to wish away the rest of your life behind these walls. Some things you just can't learn here... things that can only be learned in the world itself."
Jiro's expression hardens slightly.
"I've already learned what's outside the walls… I don't need any more lessons."
Naku pauses for a moment.
"…if you choose to stay, let it be because your heart is at peace… not because the world outside unsettles you."
"Choose to stay? I don't get it. You're the one who brought me here all those years ago… and now you want me gone?!"
Jiro's jaw tightens and he turns away.
Naku catches his shoulder, pulling him back—his other hand steadying him in place.
"Jiro, calm yourself and listen. All I'm trying to say is that peace that survives only within these walls is not peace. You cannot hide from what happened all those years ago. You will have to face it."
Jiro takes a deep breath, calming himself.
"God, your breath smells." He waves a hand between them, pushing Naku back.
He takes a moment before responding.
"If you're saying I have to go, I'll go but if not then I'd like to stay."
"I'm not saying you need to leave—I'm simply encouraging you to experience real life! At least before you're my age! Gods… maybe Masaki is right."
"Did she say something about me?" His expression shifts.
Naku shakes his head in disbelief.
"Seems stubbornness is the one thing I couldn't rid you of all these years… and I doubt I ever will."
"Aren't you supposed to be helping with Lady Chiyo's class today?"
"Damn it—Masaki didn't remind me! I gotta go!"
"I wouldn't be late again… she's been telling all the other ladies she's got something special planned for you."
"That crazy old hag!" He takes off.
"Oh almost forgot."
He calls out to Jiro as he runs off.
"I'll be gone a few days—heading into town on some business!"
"Don't spend too much on my gift! Maybe something shiny… something that'll make Masaki jealous!" He runs off.
"Damn brat…" Naku walks off.