The Final Fight

It was dark when they met. The sun had long since fallen low in the sky, and it was by the light of the full moon that they were able to see each other. That shiny rock, fighting an eternal war against the clouds in an effort to remain seen – that was their only spectator.

It was done out of courtesy, for he was a master of this temple after all. It would not do to for him to lose face in front of all the students that he would soon teach.

"Are you sure he'll come?" Kitajo asked. They had been standing waiting in the cold night air for a while by now, and they had yet to see or otherwise sense any sign of combat master Kuraka.

"He will. He's as intrigued as we are, despite appearances." Momochi assured him. The words they exchanged were hushed, as they did not want to want to wake any of the sleeping monks. In the forest, as they were, there was at least some distance separating them from.