Boss

There was something humiliating about this all. I know that the people still gathered here today, 3 days after my initial failure, were only here by Kiu's direct orders.

I don't know if I'd approached the matter properly when talking to Kiu. Perhaps I shouldn't have talked to him as though he were a friend, ranting about the different students rather than taking accountability for my own failures, but nonetheless, I had. I'd exploded in a manner of speaking, wasting no time in expressing just how frustrated the day'd left me. It was only when I was done raving that I'd realized just what I'd done, the embarrassment hitting me in the face like a 4 ostrich horse carriage.

The awkwardness had hung in the words still bounced around the closed room, echoing back into my ears, myself becoming more and more uncomfortable by the second for what felt like minutes until he simply asked, "Are you done?"

I responded in the affirmative, and he simply asked, straight faced, his already weathered face having no more space for stress and drama, "You still plan on continuing with the training?"

I responded likewise once again.

"Good. You're dismissed."

As I faced the same crowd I'd failed 3 days ago, and then some, even the Patriot's crew stopping by to witness what may just turn out to be a repeat of my same failure from before, I found myself desperately raking my mind for any semblance of an idea on how not to make an ass of myself. Of some idea how to actually, more importantly, find a way to teach these children how to survive.

I found myself wishing that Kiu had said something more than "You're dismissed" to me then. I'd considered, in these last 3 days, making time to see him, but I think that, somehow, embarrassment had prevented me from doing so.

For spirits' sake. I'm 20 years old, I've served in the army for over a quarter of my life, I've been a part of one of the Fire Nation's most feared units, fought at the Battle of Ba Sing Se, and led a highly efficient armored squadron. I've deserted the world's most powerful army, lived to tell the tale, gone on to help lead a band of freedom fighters, and somehow, I'm scared of Kiu.

There was something about him though, something about the weariness that he wore as a badge of honor that told me that, next to him, I was nothing.

One of these days, I'll grow the balls to ask him his story.

Thinking back on it, I considered then if, maybe, what Kiu had done in simply refusing to hear me out had been the best thing he could have done for me. Letting myself get worked up, acting like a child, upset because I wasn't being properly respected, it would get me nowhere. Maybe that's what he'd been trying to tell me.

I thought back too on what Jadoh had said, funnily enough. Few months ago, he would have been one of the last people I'd want to talk to, but here he was now, off on the sidelines, having volunteered his services in helping train the others if I wanted.

"Just pretend they're me," he'd suggested before the others have arrived.

I grinned to myself. Just pretend they're all the old Jadoh.

"Alright!" I yelled out as long as I could manage. As I had managed to do last time, leaving my throat raw, I caught the attention of those before me, even startling a few of them in the process. So far so good. "We're not going to be wasting any time today." I wasn't going to give them another lecture. They'd heard enough of that last time. Today was about getting down to brass tacks. "I see you've all brought your own weapons here today. We won't be practicing with those today. I'll ask you now once to discard your weapons so we can proceed!"

I heard the scattered clanging of a few weapons being thrown to the ground, but they stood out in the relative silence of the rest of the field. There was clear reluctance among the crowd, nobody quite willing to part with their weapons. Your own fault for bringing them here in the first place. The silence continued, and I noticed a number of people even reaching down to retrieve the weapons they'd discarded earlier, pressured by their peers.

"And if we don't?" A voice asked. Keerick again. Of course. He'd proved a pain in my ass last time, right as he was. Why was I surprised he was doing so again?"

I was already sizing him up, thinking. I can take him. He's not too much younger than me, but I could easily take him on.

I gave him the chance to back down, simply eyeing him, asking him one last time to lay down his weapons. He said nothing, standing there, and I was in the middle of taking the first step towards him before a body stepped in, interrupting me, saying, "Just put down your weapons, Keerick. The sooner we do what he asks, the sooner we can go home. Besides, we might just learn something. Jet. Jet turned to the crowd, intent on removing the last semblance of resistance for the moment. "Toss your weapons everyone. Let's not be so stubborn here. There's always more we can learn."

It was at his word that people began to listen, the clanging of weapons being dropped being heard from throughout the crowd. So they'll listen to him, eh? As the noise began to dim, the kid looked at me with a nod of his head, granting me permission o continue. He has some nerve however.

It was apparent how they saw me. Age had stopped mattering to them once they took up arms as children to fight against a near unstoppable army of adults. I was just one more of them, the only adult they'd sworn loyalty to being Kiu. They'd seen no evidence of what I was capable of. My loyalty had already been spoken for, but I hadn't earned their respect. I had to earn that, so long as Jet didn't stand in the way again.

I nodded to him in return, and he walked back to his previous position in the crowd, next to Kai and a freedom fighter I recognized less, but knew to be a girl named Ora.

From there, the others became more willing to follow along, Jet's occasional prodding from time to time doing the extra trick.

As the freedom fighters went about their forms, sparring with one another, trading partners from time to time, Jet took on the role of something as a mentor despite me and Jadoh already doing so, commenting on the techniques of others, ensuring they were acting properly, the works. I would have been more upset if I hadn't noticed that his comments were in the right. He seemed to have a rather solid understanding of what he was talking about. Those he counselled instantly improved, their improvement under his words even better than under mine, but that likely was in some part due to their initial reception of him. The way they saw me, however, it wasn't kind. They saw my words as criticisms, unwarranted for me to give, no proof having ever been given that I knew what I was talking about. They had faith in their abilities. Too much.

Such was especially evident with the ruckus that had emerged from a growing group near the center of the clearing in the forest.

Jadoh and I approached the gathering crowd, curious as to what was transpiring, witnessing, in the center of it, a rather intense duel between Kai and other freedom fighter who I didn't recognize.

The two had abandoned their weapons, instead relying on hand-to-hand combat.

Kai's opponent, a boy who's name I learned to be Shen by the occasional cheer for him, attempted a grabble around Kai's waist.

The grapple was weak however, evident alone in the footwork of the boy, easily exploited by Kai who proceeded to sweep him off his feet, throwing him to the ground.

The boy didn't stop there, however, rolling just in time out of the way at Kai's foot stomping on the ground. He wasn't holding back. He wants to hurt him.

The boy rose back to his feet, feet planted, arms raised, ready just in time for Kai's swing, desperate, wild, missing, a jab from Shen catching him in the stomach, sending him reeling backwards, a scowl on his face.

"Boss," I heard a voice. It was Jet. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. I tried getting them to stop but-"

"Don't be."

"You're going to stop them?"

"Of course."

"So why aren't you moving?"

"I want to see who wins."

"What?" He turned to face the brawl that was growing in intensity. "Why?!"

"So I know which one to kick the shit out of."

My answer elicited a chuckle from Jadoh who was at my side, but Jet was less amused. These were his friends kicking the shit out of each other after all. He was less capable of my disconnect that I here demonstrated as I watched the two fight it out.

Shen had gained an edge, locking one of Kai's arms in place. His grasp on it was sloppy, weak, prone to being easily discarded, but Kai was too focused on landing a hit with his free arm to even notice his ability to free himself.

The cries in the crowd evidently favored Kai, him being the favorite as shouts of "Come on! Hit him" and "Kill that fucker!" shot out of the crowd.

I really hope nobody kills somebody here. That'll be tough to explain to Kiu.

I wanted to think that it was only rhetoric, the cries of blood, but when Kai's arm reached behind his back, and the glint of the sun against the steel of the knife that he unsheathed reached my eyes, I realized that it'd gone too far.

One slash, wild, no target in mind, merely desperate, was all it took for Shen to back off, horror in his eyes, a gash across his right cheek, hands held up in surrender as the audience cheered Kai's "victory" if it could even be called that.

The crowd didn't seem to mind as congratulatory remarks of "Way too go!" and "You really showed him" could be heard.

"Very impressive," I said as I pushed my way through the audience to gain access to him, the others parting to let me through, less out of respect or fear of me, but more out of curiosity to see where this was going.

They'd see soon enough.

"You certainly showed him, drawing your knife on him like that."

"His fault he didn't bring his own," he scoffed, wiping sweat from his brow until he turned to see me, now understanding who it was talking to him. "Why?" he asked, his voice suddenly hardening. "Got a problem?"

"Quite a few. Your close quarters combat is sloppy. He had the edge on you, but he had a weakness you failed to notice, instead relying on an advantage you'll never have in the field. If you have a weapon, you damn well bet your enemy has one too."

"I won, didn't I?"

"Here you did, but you try something like this on anybody else, on anybody who knows a thing or two about how to fight, and you won't have that same luck."

"Oh, and by anybody else, I bet you think that means you?"

I grinned. Good. "Anybody else in the world that's not a defenseless infant, sure. And that includes me. Your style of fighting , against an opponent evenly matched with you, the fight will be over before you even realize it."

It was around now that the audience began to come to their champion's defense. "He's all talk", "Show him what your made of!", "Fuck him. Kill 'im too!"

He had the pressure. Good. I shrugged. "But hey? What do I know? I guess we'll just find out on the field."

I turned to leave. He wouldn't wait for the field. The crowd was calling for blood once again, and to turn it down, he'd humiliate himself.

I didn't even need to hear Jet calling out, "Don't!" for me to feel him coming. The sudden shift in the air, the crunch of the grass beneath his feet, he signaled his charge before the moment he'd even considered it in his head.

I applauded him, he didn't say a word. He didn't yell in his charge, he didn't announce his presence verbally. He wanted the element of surprise, but all's the pity that he failed so miserably. I turned, sidestepping out of the way, avoiding the knife held directly in front of him. He hadn't accounted on missing, and his grip on the blade was weakened, his mental imagery of how everything would play out suddenly spun on its head.

I disarmed him, a solid grip on his wrist, catching his knife as it fell to the ground with my left hand, my right still on his wrist. All it took then was the clever placement of my foot behind his heel, pushing him forward, my weight against his, the knife to his throat drawing him backwards all the more until he tripped and fell to the ground, me directly on top of him, knife to his throat.

"Sloppy."

He growled. He wasn't done. He swung with his left hand, missing, me realizing then just how he'd even gained the advantage against Shen in the first place, the brass knuckles now in plain view as I spun him over, left hand holding the knife to his throat, the other on his arm, holding it up behind his back me and all others to see.

"Ah. Now it makes sense. You had every advantage: surprise, arms, and initiative, but you still managed to screw it up. You're sloppy, Kai. I told you that next time you tried this on somebody, it wouldn't work. That it would cost you your life."

He gruntled, struggling against my weight, making every effort he could to free himself. It wouldn't work. He's lost.

"However, it's my job to teach you. Not kill you. Sometimes though, you need to learn the hard way."

The inhuman shriek that accompanied the crack of the bones in his arm sent a shiver through me. Arm broken behind his back, I decided he was no longer a threat, and rose, standing above the screaming and thrashing Kai that lay on the forest floor.

The others were silent. There were no longer any shouts applauding his name. Their eyes were on me. Jet's especially. I don't know if it was approval or fear, but I'd earned his respect. And the others, they weren't so different. They looked on in horror and I had the feeling, especially as I reached down and confiscated Kai's knife for myself, that they wouldn't doubt my abilities again.

But I needed to prove it.

"Now!" I spoke. "It seems one of you is down a partner. You'll be sparring with me instead. Any volunteers?"

Yeah, I realized amidst the silence of those who no longer even considered going up against me a possibility. I'd made myself loud and clear.