The soil in the training ground had been turned the night before and was still loose underfoot.
Six students stood in a semicircle at the edge of the grounds, their hands behind their backs.
Might Guy arrived louder than a gong, his grin leading him into the grounds.
His voice filled the entire space.
"Youth means improving a little every day!"
Someone carrying a shoulder pole passed along the road outside the wall. The pole creaked twice.
No one answered. The semicircle was uniformly silent.
Kiyoshi stood at the opening in the semicircle without so much as lifting his eyelids.
"Oh."
Someone let half a laugh escape through their nose, then hastily stifled it.
Two in the back copied him, one too high, the other too flat, neither getting it right.
They sheepishly shut their mouths afterward.
Might Guy took no offense. He swung a hand at his side and beckoned Kiyoshi over.
"Three exchanges. I'll attack first. You just counter."
He took off his outer robe, draped it over a wooden post, and walked into the center of the grounds.
They took their positions three paces apart.
In the first exchange, Might Guy moved first.
A straight punch came head-on. Before the fist arrived, his shoulder dropped half an inch.
Kiyoshi saw its path perfectly clearly, but his body was just a little too slow. The wind of the punch skimmed his ear.
A small spray of soil rose underfoot. By the time Kiyoshi found his footing, he was two steps away.
The earthy smell hit him full in the face, too.
The fist withdrew, and the man behind it flashed a grin full of white teeth.
"Good! Again!"
The second exchange was twice as fast.
A low sweep skimmed the ground, its gust arriving first and sending grass