In a Corner of My Soul: The Pack: Karate Kid

[dragonyphoenix]

Masterlist for In a Corner of My Soul

The studio was a few blocks off of Main Street in the middle of a row of stores. “Karate” was painted in red letters on the window and again displayed in impossible-to-miss white letters on a sign above. The limited space that Kris could see through the windows ended at a set of room-divider screens, black wood with white between. There was no one at the front desk but a young man, athletic and tanned, popped out from behind a screen when the bell jingled as she walked through the door.

“Hi, Kris Mansfield. I have an appointment?”

“Oh, sure, Sensei Brian's in back.”

Kris felt a flash of nostalgia as she took in the wooden floor, mirrors, and piled mats. The room was empty except for one man dressed in an informal and comfortable-looking black gi. Presumably he was Brian. He looked nothing like Lassiter, the man who'd trained her. Brian was short and wide where Lassiter had been tall and thin. Brian was older as well and more … the term relaxed came to mind. Brian's hair, graying and pulled back in a ponytail, was nothing like Lassiter's militarily precise haircut. Kris found it rather reassuring, all in all, given that she was almost certain Lassiter had lied to her.

“So, you have an appointment but not for a lesson? It says here you want an evaluation?”

Right, how to explain this? “I've studied but, well, I don't think I really learned to defend myself. I was, well I was mugged, by a kid, and, well, I should have been able to take him, I mean defend myself, and, well, he was a kid and I let my guard down and he got away with my purse.”

“Ah, you want to know how well you'd fare if attacked again.”

“You can do that, right? Your ad did say self-defense.”

“Yeah, I can simulate a set of real attacks.”

He started out easy, telling her how he was going to attack before moving in. “Alright, I'm going to grab your neck in a front choke-hold. You get out of it.” He wrapped his arms around her throat. She dropped her chin to protect her pressure point, grabbed both of his wrists, pulled him in, and kicked up at his chest. He continued with basic attacks – grabbing from behind, grabbing an arm – and then upped the game to attacking with weapons although he did use a wooden knife rather than a real blade.

When they switched to actual sparring, Kris found herself struggling to keep up. He took her down again and again. At the start of their last fight, he threw his hand at her face. It didn't hit but her eyes felt like they were on fire and the tears were so heavy in her eyes that she couldn't see. Blinking heavily, she felt more than saw him knock her to the ground. It took a good half-hour – she learned later – and a damp cloth before she could open her eyes. “What the hell was that?”

“Black pepper. I don't know what kind of cocktail hour classes you've been taking, but in the real world enemies don't fight fair.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your form is good and I'm sure whatever katas you've learned, you've got them down one-hundred percent, but you don't follow through. Even with the basic attacks, you respond once and stop. On the street, you don't stop until your opponent is on the ground and not moving.”

She could see what the man meant. Lassiter had trained her to spar, to perform katas, but not to fight. Kris shook her head. It didn't make sense. Why would the Council want a Slayer who couldn't defeat demons? Had they always known she wouldn't be called? But then why train her at all?

If she couldn't win, she should leave Sunnydale. Instead Kris found herself asking about lessons.