Shadow on the Sun by David Macinnis Gill

Mistress yell, “See what you did!”
    Shoei ducks around the screen and sticks out her tongue, just in time for one of Yadokai’s needles to sink into her bulbous nose.
    â€œHa!” he yells. “Bull’s-eye!”
    Shoei’s fist punctures the screen and catches Yadokai in the nether region. “Bull’s-eye!”
    â€œErp,” the master groans.
    Vienne decides she’s had enough healing for one morning. After plucking the needles from her back, she gathers up her things and scoots out the door, leaving them to work out their differences.
    By the time she dresses and reaches the exercise yard, it is filled with three dozen children of all ages. They are wearing white karategi and are barefoot. Their hair is cut short, both male and female, and they comprise a mix of races. They are all orphans, just as Vienne and her brother Stain once were.
    In the morning they hone their bodies in the exercise yard and hone their minds in open-air classrooms led by the oldest children. Afternoons to evenings, they labor in the fields to help put food on the table. In time they will make the choice to either go out in the world again or remain and join the monks.
    Few will remain.
    Vienne watches a circle of boys practice tumbling and another group of girls attack the mukyanjong, a wooden punching dummy, as she crosses the yard. A hush follows her, and the kids stop and bow before her. A girl in sandals too big for her feet is locked on target and deaf to the sudden silence around her.
    A boy clears his throat, then tosses a pebble at her. “Psst! Ema!”
    â€œWait your turn!” Ema says. “I just—” She notices the silence and then Vienne. “Sifu!” she says. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
    â€œEma, how many times do I have to tell you? Call me Vienne. I am only a fellow acolyte.” She pauses to examine the practice dummy. “I admire your energy, but your execution lacks precision. May I?”
    Bowing, Ema steps away. “Yes, sifu.”
    â€œNo, stay with me.” Vienne’s fists are at her side, relaxed. “Do as I do.”
    Ema copies her movements.
    â€œHands here. On the hips.” Vienne taps her fists against her own hipbones to demonstrate. “Feet as wide as your hips. No wider. You must be balanced and grounded so that your defense doesn’t suffer.”
    The boy snickers.
    Vienne cocks her head. “Is something funny, Rajiv?”
    â€œNo, mistress,” he says. “But she’s fighting a dummy, not a—”
    Bam! Vienne kicks the mukyanjong , which whips around, its wooden arms lethal. Thunk! She stops it with a forearm block. “Every action has an opposite reaction, and even a dummy can hit back.”
    Rajiv blushes. “Yes, sifu.”
    Vienne pushes Ema closer. “Now, your arms, they’re too tense. Remember that you are bamboo—soft until your strength is needed. That way you won’t get tired, and when your enemy uses up all of his energy, you’ll win without having to attack. Try.”
    Ema punches the dummy and blocks the spinning handle with the same elbow.
    â€œGood,” Vienne says. “Remember your centerline. Any technique that carries you past the center is doomed to fail. Remember also that the Tengu learn to fight so that they don’t have to.”
    Ema bows. “Yes, Vienne.”
    â€œYou’re a very good student, Ema.” Vienne bows in return, hands clasped together, then cuts Rajiv a look. “And you, young man, remind me of a brave Regulator I once knew—”
    Rajiv glows.
    â€œâ€”which means that you don’t know half as much as you think you do. Keep practicing. I’ll check on you after I have my visit with Ghannouj.”
    At the teahouse, her breakfast of miso soup and a rice ball is waiting. Vienne sits cross-legged and, saying a prayer of thanks, closes her eyes.
    When she opens them, Shoei is there.