His eyes flashed a familiar sense of warmth, belonging, and an all-encompassing sense of compassion long forgotten in my jaded years, a period in which I emotionally numbed myself. As he leaned forward on his cane, I knew that the days of agility, grace, and offense were long gone. Hints of gray touched his hair, like frost on field in the infancy of winter. A smile, mixed mostly with satisfaction and unbridled enthusiasm, slowly spread across his face. It was one of those closed-mouth grins, denoting not happiness but mere irony. The air around me was somewhat temperate in this place. He stood in front of me, his once powerful, somewhat intimidating form reduced to a hunched figure on a cane. The dojo was just as I remembered, great artifacts and sculptures throughout, a testament to both style and substance. The floorboards creaked beneath my feet as I slowly approached him, worn with age and abused thoroughly by years of training.

He was, in fact, my very first...

'Master...'

I looked at him, his tall, powerful form in front of me, arms muscular yet flexible, a much younger version than of his present state. Quickly, he grabbed the arm of my thirteen year old body. I looked at him questioningly, shocked that my very first encounter with him would
result in such an act.

'Strategy,' he said, 'Is the one weapon above all to defeat an enemy of any size. You must possess this trait, and be able to overcome all conditions. You are slight, young Tanaka, and because of this, you must rely mostly on the biggest muscle you have...'

The other tapped his head several times.

'...your mind. Try and break out of this hold.'

Puzzled, I remember that I knew nothing of the arts, stacked up against a man twice my size and with six times my experience. I began an attempt to break the hold, using all my force, while he held me with only one arm. He began to laugh, the color draining from my face
as he did so. Waves of humiliation, pain, and an all out sense of emptiness began to pour into me, my own pride deflating, sinking like a boat with a great hole, quickly filling with water.

'You are a fool!' he bellowed. 'You must learn to use your MIND to overcome all opponents. It is not a question of quickness, nor strength. The mind is build through experience, strategy, and intelligence. You will not build your strength through conventional methods. The only equipment you shall use to build your body belongs
in no gym. It is this...'

The other handed me a book. I remember turning it over, puzzled and unable to speak.

'Books?' I squeaked. 'I am here to read books?'

My fingers slowly ran over the raised lettering on the outside of an solid brown, leather bound book. 'Japanese Code of Honor, Strength, and Courage' by Sato Musashi read in gold lettering. Before I could ponder further, the
master backhanded me suddenly, and I fell off my feet to the wood-planked floor.

'Fool!' he bellowed once more, the rich mohogany tone in his voice dying out, replaced by a raw tone of intensity that shivered the essence of my very being. 'You must learn of your culture, your history...yourself! Tsuyoshi Tanaka, you are but a young fool! Your very first lesson begins today. You must demonstrate to me why you
feel you are worthy to be my student.'

'I...have to prove myself to you? But I have learned nothing.'

'And you will not,' the other told me, 'if you do not possess the correct mind state to which I may impart knowledge unto you. Now, first off, tell me...'

'...why are you here?' he asked me.

My mind suddenly snapped to the present. I stared to the man, broken down on a cane, once so powerful, once able to intimidate me so.

'I need you,' I replied to him, the truth freeing me more than any lock and key ever could. 'I have...fallen off the path. Your teachings, master. They...'

'I made a mistake with you,' he said. 'You were a fool, and I could not impart knowledge to one such as you. The day you walked out for the last time, you were far from complete. You have a long road ahead of you, and I feel I should not waste my time!'

I looked at him with a sense of lost. Several years ago, I came to the best instructor in Japan to become a warrior. I sought the kind of training given only to the privileged few. His training allowed me to succeed in many aspects, and because of this, I became what I am
known as today -- a warrior. Yet I am a shallow shell of a man, with no substance. I feel as if my soul is hollow, and my mind is but a mere robotic application, set and limited on emotional givings.

'You are right,' I said. 'I am sorry to have wasted your time. I will go.'

Slowly I began to walk to the exit. I knew, somehow, his eyes were baring into the back of me as I left. I quickly turn my head, and his face is cold, empty, and unfeeling. With a wave of his hand, I knew that truly, he wanted me out of his space. My palms sweat as I claped them together, slowly moving forward, away from the promise of second chances and new beginnings, to a place I was more than familiar with -- despair.

My footsteps echoed on the wood, the smell of ancient memories and the creation honor, respect, and the destiny fill the hall...

'Prove...myself?' I asked, stammering.

'Yes,' he replied. 'I will ask you again. Why are you here?'

'To become stronger...better. I want to fight better,' I say.

His features twisted, a scowl overtaking his face, his brown eyes squinting. I knew at once that this was the wrong answer. I wanted to run, to jump out of my skin, to be someone else, just for that moment. However, as he advanced, I stood my ground. He came within inches of me, staring down into my eyes. I could feel contained rage
building within him, breaking free through flood gates, and yet, for reasons still unbeknownst to me, I stood my ground.

'Fighting,' he scoffed, a strong tinge of mockery in his voice. 'You want to fight, huh? Listen now, little boy. This is not about fighting. This is about the building of a soul...the completion of a man! The mind is your very best weapon, and you, Tsuyoshi Tanaka, need to realize how to use it!'

'Y-yes master,' I stammered, unable to speak for myself, as if a puppet on strings.

'You will be my student,' he smiled, 'because I see the potentialwithin you. I honestly did not expect you to answer the question correctly. But...someday...maybe you will...'

The door loomed in front of me, the barrier between a second chance for excellence and the cold, harsh, slap in the face of the real world. The latter option seemed such a dismal fate to me that I could have cried. A sweep of warm air flowed through the door, and as I approached the knob, a voice beckoned to me.

'Wait!'

I turned around, and the aged master slowly walked towards me. His graying temples shined in the lighting of many windows, situated above, in an arched manner. His face was cold, hard, like a wall. Unable to feel his emotions, I froze in place. A single look from the man, aged or not, could destroy the very mental essence of even the
greatest of opponent -- a quality I admittedly envied.

'Why did you do it, Tanaka?' he asked, his voice low and -- unbelievably -- defeated. 'How could you walk out? You had so much potential...so much dignity. You let your own talents and progress twist you. You felt no need for me. I loved you like a son. For five long years we trained, but on your eighteenth birthday, you decided...'

'I'm too good for this!'

The master looked at me with wide eyes, his face dropping. I stood there, my belongings in hand, prepared to depart forever. The master stood with a long look on his face, frazzled and prepared to stop me with any force. He perched in front of the door. I laughed at him whole heartedly, unable to contain any other emotion. Much had changed in the five years since I had started. No longer was this man an intimidating force. He was, instead, a charlatan, a false answer man with whom I wished to no longer waste any of my time.

'Your arrogance has become your undoing,' the other whispered harshly. 'By leaving this house, you will embark on the fast track to failure. Why must you throw away all you have accomplished, all because of the false images and pseudo-power you have attained through easy to learn, non-committal ways. You have a long way to go, Tanaka, and only through--'

'I've had enough,' I sneered at him. 'I am leaving today, you old dottering fool, and if you try to stop me, it will be the end of you.'

His icy cold stare could only be matched by the intensity of youth, fire in my eyes and hot blood in my veins. The stare down could have been legendary. Our eyes met, and that gave all the answers in the man's mind. He slowly approached me, reaching out his arm. To this day, I know not whether he wanted to attack or embrace, but at that moment, I chose the former, locking in what would later become my patented Inferno Kick right to his chest. With a great cry of pain, he fell over, chest bleeding, aching on the ground. With a smile of smug satisfaction, I looked back only once as I left the house forever, vowing never to come back.

'I cannot say,' I replied to the question. 'I felt I had it all, Master. I felt as if I had no need for you...no need to...'

'You were an impatient fool, a youth obsessed only with himself and the prospect of glory!' the Master said, his voice rapidly rising. 'You knew what you wanted and you took it! Tell me, Tanaka, why is it that you're really here? Why is it that you want to become my student?'

'Master, I have made many mistakes,' I answered. 'I have allowed myself to become entrenched in a downward spiral, demons overtaking me to the point where I cannot even begin to imagine a life of purity and strength. I need you to give me the power, Master, to overcome such demons...to return to my former self, a champion of glory inside and outside of the ring.'

The Master stares at me for several moments, his expression bare. He clasps my arm with one hand, this time not in attack, but in affection. His voice begins to speak in its usual soft, even tone, the very tone I once knew as a student.

'It took you ten years, Tanaka, but you finally gave me the answer I wanted,' the Master replied. I could have swore he laughed, but I was in no position to push my luck.

'Thank you, Master,' I replied. 'I believe...'

I reached into my pack, felt around, and showed an object of interest. The Master's eyes glowed, and at that moment, I knew for sure that it was a smile on his face. I nearly felt like returning it.

'...that we left off here.'

'The Japanese Code of Honor, Strength, and Courage,' he whispered. 'After all these years...'

'So teach me, Master Sato Musashi, how to uphold the principals and the teachings of your fine body of work.'

'Tsuyoshi Tanaka,' Master Musashi said, 'Class is now in session.'

'The ability of a prodigal son to return to the arms of his loved ones supersedes the sin for which he has run.'
- Sato Musashi