Kento of Hardrock and Sai of the Torrent have an interesting twist in their tales. They met before the temple. This is the
beginning of their stories. It tells about Kento's life on the street, Sai's tragic past, and the hardships both overcame to
reach the temple of the Ancient. P.S. Kento wanted to call this chapter THE TALE OF TWO RONIN, but I thought that
would be a tad cliche. ~Mia~

KENTO

I lived on the streets of Toyama for five of the sixteen years my presence has graced this earth. Eleven was a tender age to learn
the way of the street, but I had little choice in the matter. Luckily, I didn't start out alone.
I met Yoshi the first night I ran away from the orphanage, after being placed there following the death of my family in a car
accident the week before. I was huddled next to a dumpster in a deserted alley, trying to come to terms with the loss of my
parents and younger brother.
"Hey kid, you okay?" I looked up startled. There was a silhouette of a man standing over me. "You really should go home," he
said. "It gets cold out here at night."
I backed away slightly nervous. "I'm fine... I'll go home in a while," I lied. "My father is a little drunk right now and I rather not
get into a discussion."
Just then, a passing car lit up the stranger's face. He had long untamed hair that hung down past his shoulders and didn't look
much older than sixteen. A small smile crossed his lips as he bent down to my level. The cold stone of the brick wall bit into my
back as I shrank further into the corner. "You'll be all right then?" His voice was hinted with concern.
"Yes, I'll be fine," I said defiantly. "I'll be a whole lot better when you leave."
"All right boy," he said standing. "Have it your way. Just be careful, these streets ain't a place for kids."
Then he turned and disappeared into the shadows. I waited until he was gone and then hurried away in the opposite direction.
The next two days were difficult. Life on the street wasn't as glamorous as I thought it would be. I spent the nights huddled in
dark corners and the days just trying to survive. After two days of eating out of garbage cans, the unattended fruit cart on the
corner was too much of a temptation. As my fingers gripped a large red apple, a hand entrapped mine.
"You weren't thinking of stealing that?" a gruff voice asked. "Were you, rugrat?"
I looked up into the angry eyes of a large store clerk. Before I could find my voice, someone else answered, "Sure he wasn't,
Earl." I glanced around and the teen that I had talked to the other night stood beside me. He handed the clerk some money.
"Why don't you add five more apples?" he asked the vendor.
After the clerk had bagged the apples, the teen grabbed my shoulder and firmly led me away. As soon as we were around the
corner, he threw me against the wall. "That was very, very, very stupid!" he said. "If I hadn't seen what was happening and
intervened, he would have called the cops."
I tossed the apple I still held back at him. "I can handle myself and I don't take charity from no one."
He caught the fruit and said, "No, you just steal what you need... like a thief."
"I'm not a thief... not most of the time."
"Just when it suits you." The teen's grip tightened on my shoulder. "What about your parents? What would they think if I brought
you to them and told how you steal food from honest working people?"
I smiled and said, "I'd like to see you try."
"Okay, little one, where can we find your parents?" He pulled me away from the wall.
"The Silent Oak... Cemetery," I said jerking myself free and taking off down the street. I could hear sounds of pursuit and
quickened my pace, but my friend caught up, tackling me. The blow sent us both colliding into the trashcans that lined the alley.
I landed on the ground and he pinned me there. "Listen kid, I can help you... if you let me."
"Why should you?" I demanded.
"Because you need a friend."
"I don't need anyone," I said through clenched teeth.
"Then maybe I should just turn you over to the police."
"Are you threatening me?" I asked tensing.
"Not really," he admitted, standing. He offered his hand. "At least, let me buy you lunch."
I laid on the ground a second longer and my stomach growled. I reached up and let him pull me to my feet. "Now that you
mention it... I am a little hungry."

That was how I met Yoshi. In the hour it took to eat lunch, he convinced me to stay with him at a small apartment, and he
would teach me how to survive on the streets. Yoshi became my teacher and best friend. He was the one who taught me how
to fight and survive. The skills he helped me master had no official title. I will never have a colored belt to show my rank, but I
was good. After proving that fact a couple of times, my reputation allowed me to safely wander the streets of Toyama.
Life with Yoshi was good. He worked down at the docks to earn money, while I worked in the small store under our
apartment. This changed when I turned fourteen. I was big for my age, so I lied and got a job down on the docks alongside
Yoshi. He wasn't happy about it at first, but we made a good team.
Shortly before my sixteenth birthday, the tranquillity ended. We were down on the docks unloading a shipment like usual, when
a yell of warning went out. I looked up and saw that the chain holding the crates above me had snapped. I stood frozen in
place. "Kento!" Yoshi screamed. I felt his weight slam into me and I was thrown out of harm's way.
The vibrations, that the bins created when they crashed, shook the pier. I sat up slowly and said, "Boy that was close. Are you
okay?" I didn't get an answer and turning, I saw that my friend was not behind me. I stood and ran over to the jumble of broken
crates. Underneath, I saw the outstretched hand of Yoshi. I don't remember removing the boxes that would have taken four
grown men to move. But the next thing I knew, I was kneeling beside the broken body of my mentor.
I lifted him into my arms and fought the tears that threatened to fall down my cheeks. Yoshi hated the sight of tears; he
considered them a show of weakness. His eyes slowly opened. "Oh little one, don't cry. You have a great destiny ahead of
you... I'm proud to be a small part of that... stay true and remember I love you, like a bro..." He died in my arms before he
finished.
The following weeks were a blur. I never returned to the docks or the apartment. Overnight it seemed I unleashed a horrible
monster inside of me. The beast would rear its head whenever things got tough, and I had little control over the rage. I lived on
the streets taking what I wanted and became known as a thug. The people who knew me never crossed my path and those that
were unlucky enough to get in my way were rewarded with a beating. I was quick with my fists and took my anger out on
anything or anybody that was close.

One night as I lay huddled underneath a bridge in the park, I heard someone walking close by. I lashed out and caught the foot
of the trespasser, causing him to crash down the steep embankment. I heard the splash as he fell into the shallow stream. In the
light of the full moon, I saw a boy stand and shake the water from his hair. He looked up to where I stood. I yelled down at
him, "This is my lair, move on."
"Let me gather my things and I will," he yelled back at me.
I looked around and saw a couple of duffels, which I had failed to see earlier, stashed in a corner. I walked over and picked up
the bags. "This can be your fare for passing underneath my bridge," I said.
"And what are you?" he asked at my shoulder. "The troll under the bridge?" I turned around shocked. I hadn't heard him climb
the hill. The boy was older than I had thought at first. He was at least my age and my height but had a slim build. "My... but you
sure have the face to play the part of a troll," he said with a smile. Then he held out his hand. "My bags please."
"What! Didn't you hear? These are mine now."
The stranger's eyes narrowed and he took a step closer. "I don't want to hurt you," he said through clenched teeth. "Just give me
what is mine and I'll leave you be."
"YOU, HURT ME!?" I laughed aloud. I dropped the bags and lunged to catch him in a bear hold. My arms circled around
empty air.
I looked around confused and heard from above. "Heads up!" I glanced up as my face met feet. The blow knocked me back
onto the hard cement. The stranger flipped himself off the bar that he held onto. And grabbing his bags, he escaped into the
darkness.
I picked myself off the ground and smiled. That little one sure did have courage, he had earned his duffels. I moved to the other
side of the bridge, just in case he decided to return, and went back to sleep. The dreams that had haunted me over the last few
weeks were back. I was sure they had to do with Yoshi's death. The next day, sunlight streamed under the bridge before I
crawled out of the blankets. I pulled back startled, the bricks next to me were covered with pictures. They had been done in
chalk and depicted a beautiful lady and a handsome man. The couple seemed to be circus performers, since they were swinging
from a trapeze. They hadn't been there the previous night, so the artist had to have been the teen from last night. The work was
good and I wondered why a kid with his talent was on the streets of Toyama. I soon put the artist out of my mind, thinking I'd
never see him again... I was wrong.