Hiroshi

3. Amelia

Yes. Of course I did the right thing. I apologized to Uriah for what I said. I shouldn't -- and probably won't, say that anyone is using death as an excuse.

The next morning, I soar through the morning sky, the sun on the horizon. I couldn't find my  training dogi, so I throw on a thin blue hoody, black tights and my AIR sneakers. I keep glaring at my wrist device as I'm barely on time to see Bro-Pa. Traffic was a little hectic, and I barely got knocked outta the sky a few time.

Reckless drivers. They never care for the real adventurers.

I arrive to the roof entrance of Scribez and see Bro-Pa sitting on an air conditioning unit, sipping something in the cold. He's wearing the exact same get up as yesterday. A khaki colored kente cloth, black joggers and sandles.

"Ah, I see you travel in style," he said, almost too perfect like this is the way he talks daily.

"Of course, my good man," I say, pulling the board from underneath me and slinging it into the holster of the BoardGear.

"How's your morning, Mr. Hiroshi?"

Mr. Hiroshi? Now that's what I call service!

"Not bad, thanks for asking. You? Do you live close, by chance?"

I was asking because it's early, and he looked as though he'd been chilling for at least thirty minutes."

"Not terribly far, but not close, either."

"So you drove, I take it?"

"Hmm . . . " Bro Pa thought. "In a way."

"Got it," I said. "Well, should we get started?"

"Cutting right to the chase, I see."

"Hey, when it comes to training for this tournament, I need to be ready. You said the worm get's the early bird, and well I'm the worm and I'm ready to go."

"Ha! The early bird, Mr. Hiroshi. The early bird get's the worm. How do you know that I'm qualified to teach you anything?"

"Well, for starters, you had me running no where pretty fast, and then you knocked the life force outta my body. I'd say your qualified for anything with — " I gesture, "Abilities like that."

Bro-Pa laughs to himself, looking out at the rising sun.

"So, you didn't research? Maybe ask your grandfather?"

"Well, no, not yet at least. I kinda wanted to be it a secret."

Bro-Pa burst out in laughter yet again.

"What's Funny?"

"Mr. Hiroshi," he said between laughs before getting eerily serious. "You think you can keep this a secret?"

I had no answer, no rebuttal.

"I am a Hene," he said calmly, putting his tea down. "Yoda kwame SenseiHene, Elder of the 5 Sun Stools. My title is quite rare. It supersedes the Sensei, as the origin of the world is Afadjato, not Japanese. I am the King of Instructors, Leader of Masters. Master Miyato, Master Kajun, Master Lang — just to name a few your familiar with, I've more influence than them. Including, your grandfather.

I swallow, the bulge of spit scraping my throat on the way down. Instead of being all excited and what not, I was anxious, like, I hate to actually say it, but, I was a little scared.

"Mr. Hiroshi," he continued, "I have Trophies. Of the eight schools that will participate, I have trophies from three schools. Any idea on how you receive trophies?"