What is wrong with me? Why did I bolt like that? And in front of Elder Kagyu? It was too embarrassing by half. Katatsu stared forlornly into his cup of water, his confused reflection looking back at him. He propped his chin in one hand and swirled the liquid with the tip of his finger, distorting the image reflected there. He watched as his face warped and twisted, then settled back into a visage that was not his own.

The face stared at him with dark eyes and almost delicate eye ridges, and a slight mocking expression.

Not him! Katatsu violently pushed the cup away, sloshing the contents onto the tabletop. Great... he grumbled to himself. With a sigh, he searched the area for a cloth to clean up the spill. Failing to find one, and not in the mood to look in the cabinets, he quickly wiped up the mess with his sleeve. It's only water anyway...

The sound of the main door opening startled him out of his thoughts. Katatsu could hear the steady tap of feet as the Elder made his way through the sitting area to the eating area.

"Are you feeling better, Katatsu?" the Elder asked when he entered the room. He frowned, clearly still worried by Katatsu's earlier behavior.

Katatsu nodded but didn't meet the Elder's gaze. "A little..."

"Good," the Elder smiled. He sat down across from Katatsu and asked, "Why don't you tell me what troubles you?"

Katatsu almost protested, then he merely nodded again. He didn't want to explain what had happened in the commons because he didn't understand it himself. He toyed with the edge of his wet sleeve, trying to think of something to tell the older Namek-jin. Finally, he latched on to something else that had occupied his thoughts earlier.

"I had a disturbing vision during my meditation today, Elder."

"Oh? Can you describe it to me?" His smile faded to a serious expression at the younger Namek-jin's words.

Katatsu told him about the terrible winds, the figure on the grass plain, the blood red sky and the awful noise of a crying child. The Elder's expression became more and more concerned during the retelling.

When Katatsu had finished, Elder Kagyu nodded. "That is very disturbing indeed."

"Do you think it was a vision of the future, Elder?"

"Hmm... that would be difficult to say, Katatsu," he replied. The Elder crossed his arms and shut his eyes. His brows furrowed as he considered the possible implications of the vision. "If you have any more like this, tell me and we'll discuss them."

"Ok..." said Katatsu. He hoped any more visions like that would be few and far between. They could mean any number of things, from personal misfortune to terrible catastrophe. He hoped it was just his own imagination getting the better of him.

He continued to toy with his sleeve, unintentionally dripping water on the floor as he twisted the fabric. His traitorous mind drifted from the vision and its meaning back to the stranger. Before he knew what was he was doing, he blurted, "Who was that stranger you were speaking with?"

Elder Kagyu seemed a bit surprised, raising his eye ridges. Katatsu's face flushed and he began to apologize for his impertinence, when the older Namek-jin answered, "His name is Muri. He is a highly respected healer, quite accomplished for his age. He's come to teach his methods to the healers of our village."

He must be very accomplished for his age, he can't be more than a few seasons older than Mushi. Argh! What am I thinking!? Katatsu pushed away the thought. I don't care.....

"Muri? I've heard that name..."

Elder Kagyu chuckled. "I'm not surprised, Katatsu. You spend too much time with us older folk. No doubt you heard us mention him a few times."

Katatsu nodded absently. He was sure that was correct. But it didn't matter one way or the other. He wasn't a healer and wasn't likely to encounter the stranger often. He usually let any injuries he acquired during training to heal on their own.

"Now," Elder Kagyu said, breaking into Katatsu's thoughts and smiling again. "Are you hungry, Katatsu? It's past time to eat."

Katatsu was silent for a moment. His stomach still clenched whenever he thought of eating and he dreaded to think what he would do if he suddenly saw the stranger's face in his mashed taro. "Not really," he finally answered. "May I retire now? I... think I'd rather go to sleep."

"Very well," said Elder Kagyu. "Sleep well, Katatsu."

Katatsu rose, made a quick bow to the Elder and went to his room. He shut the door quietly and leaned against it. He struggled with his thoughts, trying not to once again review the scene in the commons. Looking for any sort of distraction, he scanned the room.

Unfortunately, he was habitually tidy. His mat and bedding were already laid out, just waiting to be used. His laundry was put away, the wardrobe cleaned, objects on his desk neatly placed. His kouri'kiga, a chest which contained remnants of his childhood and objects he wouldn't need for a few years, had been recently polished. Even his books had been arranged according to his own system. He sighed in frustration.

There has to be something... A twinkle off to Katatsu's left interrupted the thought. Not really curious but desperate for a possible diversion, he followed the winking light, coming to stand before the desk. A small, incomplete statue of a dragon stood under a glass dome in the center of the desktop. Sunlight glinted off the transparent cover.

Katatsu lifted the dome and set it aside. He examined the statue intently, picking up a long, thin pointed tool. He carefully scratched a few scales onto the dragon's side. He stopped, examined his work, then tossed down the tool. Sorry, Porunga... In my state of mind, I might carve something strange in your hide.

Replacing the glass cover, he shifted his attention to seven spheres of stone, which were arranged next to the dragon. He picked up one of the stones, cradling it in the palm of his hand. It was a pale orange in color, with a red smudge across the surface. He traced the faded outline of a deformed red star. Oh father, I wish...

With a decisive shake of his head, Katatsu put the sphere back with the others. He went over to the one window of his room and reached for the small ring that hung from the top of the sill. Outside, he saw a Namek-jin run by, appearing worried. Another Namek-jin followed a few seconds later, but instead of running by, he stopped and motioned impatiently to someone.

Katatsu leaned over to see who the Namek-jin was trying to hurry along, but the angle of the window prevented him from getting a good view. He was about to give up when the first Namek-jin reappeared and joined the second. Then the stranger, Muri, ran up to them, carrying a large, woven basket. The healer didn't wait for acknowledgement from the other two, scurrying past them and disappearing down the lane. The two didn't appear offended at all and raced after him.

Katatsu growled softly. He hadn't needed any more reminders of the day. He grasped the ring and pulled down hard. A shade covered the window, cutting his room off from the rest of the outside world. He tugged off his clothing, dropping them in a pile on the floor instead of folding them neatly. Then, he grabbed a sleep tunic and shrugged it on.

Flopping down on his mat, he pulled the covers over his head and concentrated on falling asleep. A few minutes later, his dreams were filled with strange images of baskets, strangers and dragon spirits.

~ ~ ~

Such blinding light! Sharp throbs radiated from his eyes. And burning... the sensation crawled all over his skin, leaving fiery trails and finally converging on a single area on his arm. A strangled sound of pain mixed with the roar of rampant energy in his ears. He could feel himself falling, hitting the ground with a grunt of surprise.

"Great Umi! Katatsu, are you all right!?"

Katatsu forced his eyes open, tears slipping down his cheeks as his sight adjusted back to sunlight and found himself looking up at his sensei, Bosa. The brawny Namek-jin leaned over him, clearly upset.

"Ah... I think so..." Katatsu managed in a hoarse whisper. He pushed up off the ground with his good arm, wavering a bit as he stood in front of his teacher. His nose crinkled at the odor of charred cloth, noticing the sleeve had been burned away. He gently ran his fingers over the abused flesh of his left arm, hissing at the way the wound stung. "I... just wasn't expecting a ki attack..."

"There's no reason you should have been," growled Bosa, shooting a disapproving gaze at one of his other students. The recipient bowed his head, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and shame. Bosa left Katatsu to stand in front of the student. "This is the novice class. Novices are not permitted to use ki attacks on each other. If Katatsu had so much as moved a foot to the right or left, that blast would have headed right for Rakko and Makka!"

Bosa pointed to two other young Namek-jin, who were standing not far from where Katatsu had been. The student stole a nervous glance at the other two. They, in turn, stared back at him a bit fearfully. They all knew Rakko and Makka, as the two youngest novices, did not have the power or experience necessary to block a ki attack.

"You've disappointed me, Shiga," Bosa continued. "I think it's best if we stop for the day. I want to give you time to consider your actions and Katatsu time to heal."

Shiga bowed his head even lower. Rakko and Makka shot him angry looks because training was halted.

"I'm sure I'd be able to continue," offered Katatsu. He was as reluctant as the others to stop, especially since he knew a real battle didn't get suspended because of injury. "Besides," he added in a somewhat weaker voice, "I'm afraid I wasn't paying as good attention as I should have been."

Bosa shook his head. "Distraction can be deadly, Katatsu. This is a good lesson for you. But... whether or not you were paying attention, that has nothing to do with Shiga breaking the rules." He glared at the chastened novice. "Everyone go home. Shiga, I'll be along later to speak with your father. Rakko and Makka, you two may continue sparring in the training field outside the village."

The three students each bowed to their sensei, then took to the air, Shiga trailing behind Rakko and Makka. Bosa turned his attention back to Katatsu. He gave the injured student a gentle thump on the shoulder. "I want you in top form for the Tournament, Katatsu. Why don't you go home and concentrate on your healing techniques?"

Katatsu nodded. He didn't want to argue with the sensei. Besides not being the proper thing to do, Bosa might question why he had been distracted enough that he didn't register the increase in Shiga's ki, no matter how quickly the attack had been released. He bowed to his sensei and followed his fellow students. In a few short minutes, he landed in the village commons.

Cradling his injured arm, he leaned against one of the inner houses. Well, that was a fine display Katatsu! Fight like that in the Tournament and you could get killed... Bah! I can't even concentrate properly... Katatsu ground his teeth angrily. He wished he could talk to Mushi. His friend knew just how to pull someone out of bad mood. But the older Namek-jin was working in the fields and wouldn't be back until later.

As he stood there, he noticed a group of young Namek-jin come out of a house across the way. He recognized them as healer novices, a beginning class not unlike what he was in. That's new... no one's used that hut for a while. I wonder who... Ah! That must be where Muri is conducting his teaching course. Before Katatsu really knew what he was doing, he stepped over to the entrance of the building.

He peered around the corner of the doorframe. In the back of the large central room was the stranger. He was facing away from Katatsu, standing in front a long desk with shelves. He picked up an odd, cutaway figure of some creature and carefully placed it in an empty space on the lower shelf. Then he closed an open book and filed it as well, reaching up a little higher. When he did, the long sleeve of his tunic slid down and revealed a slender, toned arm.

"If you need to be healed, get inside. If not, go away. I don't have time for talk."

Katatsu jumped. He felt his face heat until it burned almost as much as his wound. Feeling incredibly embarrassed that he had been noticed, he stammered, "I-I hurt my arm in a spar. Could you look at it?"

He bit his lip in shame for that half-truth. Yes, he had been hurt and yes, it was considered a moderate wound, but he knew it would heal on its own in a day or so. Still, he didn't want to admit he'd been staring at the newcomer out of sheer curiosity.

Muri lightly grunted. When Katatsu didn't come in, he twisted around partially and snapped in a low voice, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get in here if you want me to heal you."

Katatsu blinked in surprise. He'd never heard a healer talk like that to someone seeking aid. He almost decided he'd rather leave than submit to an abrasive person like that. Almost. Instead, he shuffled inside.

He sat down on one of the mats arranged in neat rows on the floor. He reflexively reached to roll up the sleeve of his undershirt, then remembered it had been burned away. A bit bemused, he held out his arm instead. It was an ugly looking wound, purplish splotches covering most of where green skin should have been, with a few charred spots. The shield patches were a vivid orange-red color.

Muri came to the side of the mat. He bent down and examined the arm without touching it. An annoyed expression told clearly he thought this was a waste of time. He extended one hand and a light gathered beneath his palm.

Katatsu closed his eyes as the light brightened. A different sort of warmth spread over his skin, pushing out the stinging heat of the injury. When the light disappeared, he opened his eyes again. He flexed the healed limb a few times, then smiled. He stood and bowed to the healer. "Thank you."

Muri just crossed his arms and turned away. "Hmph. If you're going to be a warrior, kid, you better learn to live with injuries like that."

Katatsu grit his teeth. He instantly disliked the tone Muri said that with and the "kid" he attached to it. What does he think I am? Some kind of... baby? He squelched the little voice that reminded him he had used the wound as an excuse for his presence.

"I won't waste your time again," he snapped.

"Good," Muri returned. He stepped back to the desk against the wall, dismissing his visitor.

Katatsu decided he might as well make a good retreat before he said anything else. He had already behaved and spoken disrespectfully to an elder brother. He had even forgotten to properly introduce himself. Worse, he had half lied to save his own pride.

Feeling lower than he had before entering the house, Katatsu stepped out into the commons.

"What a disaster," he muttered.

~ ~ ~

"Parippo Kon Talla
Parippo Kon Karru
Parippo Kon Jarro
Umi...
Umi...
Parip Parip Dai"

Mushi swung his hoe in an arch as he walked and chanted the work song to himself. He momentarily wished for one of those rich, deep voices that some were blessed with. Bleh... it's a good thing I don't volunteer for festival chants. I sound like a squeaky chairo, he thought. Still, he kept it up and paced his steps to match the beat. He also punctuated certain parts with a downswing of his farming tool.

He had ended his field work only an hour before. He'd taken a short rest in one of the huts on the edge of the fields, chatting with some other workers. Then, after losing a few games of Poka, and one of his rest days in the process, he had decided it was time to go home.

He wasn't really expecting to visit with anyone else. He was pleasantly tired from the work and was ready for a good rest. When he saw Katatsu leaning against one of the houses surrounding the commons, though, he changed his mind. Heh, Katatsu looks like he swallowed a shiro nut.

"Hey! Katatsu!" Mushi called to his friend and waved. He shouldered the hoe and walked over to his forlorn looking friend. Katatsu gazed up at Mushi and smiled weakly.

"Hello, Mushi. Are you done with your field work already?" he asked.

"What? Yeah, I put in all my required hours. It's really pretty late in the cycle," Mushi answered, raising an eye ridge in perfect imitation of Elder Kagyu.

"Really?" Katatsu looked up to study the sky. The main sun, Ichi was already just a sliver on the horizon, with Ni in the lower skies on the opposite side. The third sun, San, would soon make its appearance. Katatsu's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't realized how much time he had spent just sitting there.

"What's going on, Katatsu?" asked Mushi. He eyed Katatsu with concern. He noted the tattered sleeve, something unusual in itself. Katatsu always changes after his training and mends any damage to his clothing. And he never loses track of time...

"Nothing," Katatsu shrugged. He was still too embarrassed by the encounter with Muri to talk about it. Instead, he stood and started to make his way toward his home.

Mushi fell into step beside him, wondering if he should press his friend for more details. Katatsu could be tight-lipped when it came to his troubles and Mushi sometimes had to prod him. But there were times the younger Namek-jin needed to be left alone. Just as he had decided to make another attempt, a squeal-yelp sound caught the attention of them both.

A villager standing across the way was alternately speaking with another Namek-jin and cooing to the small child he held against his shoulder. The baby let out another squeal-yelp typical of a newborn. The villager gave him pat on the back and returned to his conversation. The child settled for chewing on his father's vest, his bright observant eyes taking in the surroundings.

"Oh! So that's what the commotion was about yesterday." Katatsu said. He recalled Muri running off with a basket in his hands. At the time, Katatsu hadn't bothered to wonder who it was for.

"Hmmm?" Mushi tilted his head to study the baby. "That's his fourth one. I know Makiga likes raising them, but you'd think three children would be plenty for a lifetime."

Katatsu smiled as the baby stared at them. The child grinned first at Katatsu, then switched his gaze to Mushi. Mushi, in turn, waved back at him. The child reached out its chubby hand to him and laughed.

Makiga glanced over his shoulder to see what had provoked the laughter. He grinned at Katatsu, then, realizing that he wasn't the one the child was looking at, adjusted his gaze to look at Mushi. Makiga frowned and used his free hand to cover the child's eyes, gently turning his head away.

Mushi just directed his own gaze back to Katatsu. Maybe he heard what I said about too many children...

"Mushi... do you ever think about having a child? I mean, you're old enough now..." Katatsu mumbled the question, not seeming sure of why it mattered.

"What?" Mushi scratched his head, a bit perplexed. "I dunno. I haven't really thought about it. I don't really have anything to pass on. That's the whole point, isn't it?"

Katatsu just shrugged and averted his gaze.

"What about you?" joked Mushi, he hated seeing his friend in such a state. So he decided to turn the question back to him. "You're too young right now, but when you get older I bet you'll have a lot to teach."

Katatsu snorted softly and wrinkled his nose. "No. Who wants a little guy running around, begging for attention, getting into things. Kids are trouble."

Mushi laughed. He playfully grabbed the top of Katatsu's head, bringing attention to the difference in their heights. "Careful, Katatsu," he winked, "You're not really out of the ankle-biter stage yourself."

Katatsu chuckled a bit. Maybe he wasn't. But he wasn't some immature baby either. So why did he feel that way after talking to Muri?

+ + + + +

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