Hollow drumming, methodical beat poet melody hobbling chittering, clacking. Children on a hot spring day empty promises flowing rhyme of time in the mood of may.

He stared but did not see, listened but only caught the whispers of the breeze. It was like a phantom, tickling his neck. It wanted his attention. It wanted him to turn. It wanted recognition, and it wanted his soul. Frankly, it wanted a lot of things, but imagination does that to a guy. It plays tricks, and loves to wander. Here he was, sitting in the cold of the mansion grounds, pretzel-style by a tree with his fingers raised in the ‘all-ok’, and that nagging hoot in the back of his mind was dragging him out of it. Jerk.

Maybe if Shin shifted a little to the left, things would improve? Shift shift, left. Nope. Shift shift, right. Right. His eyes snapped shut as his lips curled into position. The position of a wide grin. There we were.

Perfect.

Now what was he meditating on again? Oh right: The plan for the day. His preoccupation, that thing he wanted. Maybe the thirteenth roll through the phone book would find it? Maybe not. Going over the vague positions, hand movements and foot placements, Shin ordered up a mental refresher. The ghoulish opponent bumbled up as an apparition in his mind. A brightly-colored, clown-like, apparition… with two beady eyes, and an oversized set of Dock Martin’s. Red. He suppressed a slight chuckle at his virtual opponent’s face, and got clocked in the jaw for his troubles.

“Fine,” dream-Shin spat. “You can have the droopy eyes instead of the beady ones. Jeez!” The no-longer-beady-eyed clown smiled, raising his arms to guard. Shin boxed his fists a few times in preparation, shook them, then bowed. The clown bowed too.

The first blow was low, cutting in from hip-level. A jab. Shin shifted his body, watching his feet for placement. Two strong arms slid into place around the clown’s lunging arm. The knee flew up to its chest, once, twice. The clown staggered back with a squeak.

Not bad for a first lock. Slapping his face like a stooge, the clown geared up for a second attempt. Hopping left and right with fists raised, Shin ushered him on.

“C’mon, I know you’re better than that Kawamura! Your squeaky shoes wouldn’t let me down here, now would they?” A shoe flew across the room, landing a sole to the face. “…” It clattered to the floor like an insult.

“Right. You always said ‘prepare for anything.’”

“Prepare for anything? You’re hardly prepared.”

“It speaks!” Shin remarked.

“I’m not a mime, boy.” The clown’s eyes narrowed into a glare as potent as piss and vinegar. Horse piss, in case any further elaboration was required. He glowered at the Asian, each step weighing heavily as he plodded around him. As his wheeling assessment drew to a close, the clown was looking less ‘Cirque de Soleil’, more ‘Drunken Master’. Those sorrow-filled eyes assessed him from the face of a hunch-backed old man with a cane, and the clown get up did nothing to lighten the mood.

His free hand ushered Shin on. “Come at me.”

A fickle grin slipped onto Shin’s face. “Glad to.” Rushing forwards, he slung an uppercut at the old clown’s jaw— the rubber of the cane’s tip stoppered the fist, shoving it aside. Shin staggered a few steps forward, caught in the motion, only to catch the blur of a cane speeding in at leg-level. It veered towards his inner-knee.

“!!” As he leaped into the air to avoid the swing, a foot crashed into his face. Shin met floor. Hi floor. The old man smiled down at him from a handstand as the whole room spun at a 89 degree angle.

“Reckless charge is reckless abandon. Did I ever teach you that?”

Smug bastard. Shin grit his teeth as he climbed back to one knee.

((OOC: Early in the morning, rising to the streets… I wrote this. Beat courtesy of Sublime. *Shakes his head.* I'm not apologizing for the mindtrip.))

Thunk. A passing student glanced at the unconscious Asian as he muttered to himself, caught in dreams. "Hrm...." He trailed. Back in Shin's little intense state of inexplicable meditation...

~*~
IC:

“Three years,” the clown-master muttered. “Isn’t chick peas compared to some. You’re using your fists when it’s your mind that matters.” His hands shot up to grab Shin’s as they came at him, balled into fists. He wrenched him to the side.

“Yeah,” Shin spat as he stumbled left-wards with the shove. His right hand raised as he focused his thoughts. “But I have something more than just fists!” A slash of pink cut across the white.

The Master spun around in a pirouette of cherry blossoms, suddenly on the other side of the Asian. “That’s what you’ve got?” He grinned.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard ‘what I got’.” Shin popped his neck and cracked his knuckles. “This is my own dream now. Remember that.” He summoned up a twirl of his own little cherry blossom blizzard in the palm of a raised hand. He didn’t cry when his dog ran away, didn’t get angry at the losing battles he had to play… so why bother worrying about squat? He’d fight the battle if it cost him a lot. Because love was… another song. “Remember that.”

A heavy foot stomped down, shaking the Earth around him. He glanced up at the gargantuan clown his master had suddenly become while he was distracted. Wonderful…

“You’re bound to get served…” Giant clown eyes narrowed. Shin sighed, slapping his forehead.

“Shut up, old man… this is ridiculous.” Even he was having doubts about where this was headed. Oh well~ The shards in his mind grew larger and larger, like dinner plates, then street signs. He summoned up steps. Rushing up them, he ran at the giant, bringing up a drill of ‘broken glass’ straight to the man’s face…!

It all shattered like a fist through a mirror, bearing down to the black at the back. The room went dark.

“This trippy enough for you? Is this what you hoped to acquire through medita—” A nasally snore cut him off. The old man stared down at an unconscious Shin. “… Just fantastic.” He sighed. “Oh well. I’ll always be here for ‘next time’.” The dream rippled like a stone-disturbed pool, camera pulling in to focus on Shin’s snoring form. His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. But suddenly, it was cold…

~*~

“Ah!” He rocketed skywards as a snowball hit him in the face. Shaking himself to clear his head, he dusted off the snow on his jacket. “Huh?” The student stared at him, juggling three snowballs in one hand with a laugh.

“You were sleeping in the snow, Old Man. Not good to do that, you know?” The kid’s eyes had fire and contempt. It reminded him of a younger Shin.

Shin got to his feet, laughing at the situation. “Heh, right. I’ll have to be more careful next time… brr, sure is chilly around here!” He rubbed his hands together, trying to heat them with his breath. “Maybe I’ll go inside… hmm, guess the mansion has a library I can crash in.”

“Whatever,” the kid shrugged dismissively, turning away from him. “Just keep yourself off the lawn. I’d hate to shovel another corpse off the field.”

“Eh…?”

“…” The boy shot him a glare.

“… eh.” Shin shrugged, walking off. Whatever… Weird kid. He was sure the kid thought the same. Walking through the mansion doors, he headed towards the library, snagging some books from his room on the way. Maybe he’d stop in and search that phone book again? Who knew?

He might find something.

((OOC: Thread end.))