Madam Katsuragi's Dojo
Chapter 1: Sweat and Liniment Oil
With a blaring horn, the taxi scythed through the ankle-deep puddle and drenched me from head to toe. Not that it mattered much anyway; I was already soaked from hours of traipsing around the restaurant district looking for a job in the pouring December rain. So far, I was out of luck, and it was now dark. The rain-slicked streets were bathed in the glow of neon signs and sodium lamps.
Teeth chattering, I ducked into the nearest doorway to collect myself, my toes squelching inside my worn-out sneakers, which leaked like sieves. My first paycheque would go on new shoes if I found a job.
To the side of the doorway, rough concrete steps led down to a basement above which a fading sign read, "7th District Dojo". Within a clear plastic slip, there was a handwritten note pinned to a noticeboard. With a shivering hand, I wiped away the beads of rainwater and peered at the note inside. It was wet but just legible.
Male assistant required for Madam Katsuragi's karate class
Competitive pay
Needed for 6 weeks
Report here at 8 pm on Friday if interested
I checked my watch and it was 7:52 pm. Could it be that my luck was finally turning? Anything was better than washing pots or peeling onions all night.
I descended the steps, opened the door and squinted as my eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lighting inside. Two young women, about the same age as me, were leaving. As they passed by, they glanced at me in unison. Faint smiles formed on their lips. I heard giggles behind me as they ascended the concrete steps.
I headed for the main hall passing a changing room where I heard the hiss of hot showers. The air was heavy with a mixture of steam, sweat and deodorant. In the main hall, I found a lone woman wearing a white gi (karate suit) with a black belt around her waist. She was tidying up some papers. I stopped at the threshold.
"Er, excuse me," I said.
She turned around.
"Ah," she said, her eyes appraising me, "I assume you're here about the job?"
"Yeah, er, I guess."
She walked towards me with her shoulders back and her head upright whilst holding my gaze. Her bare feet left little depressions in the mat behind her. As she got closer, I could see she was much older than me, at least in her 30s. Her obsidian black hair was tied neatly behind her supple back. Her skin was milk-white. She stopped before me, feet apart and hands on hips. A good foot shorter than me, she looked up at me with deep-brown mahogany eyes.
"You're soaking wet and shivering, you poor thing," she said, her brow furrowing in concern.
"I'm ok, it was just a bit wet outside."
"Nonsense! Have a hot shower first and get yourself a fresh gi to wear," she said, placing a hand on my back as she coaxed me towards the sound of hissing hot water. "I don't want you catching a cold."
"Er, I guess, I mean thank you."
Her lips curled into a kindly smile as she guided me to the showers.
"I'm Madam Katsurag by the way. I hold evening classes here four times a week. Please call me Madam."
"Er yes, er Madam."
"I'm really glad you came here today," she said whilst patting my back. "When you're ready we'll run through some things in the hall, and I can decide if you're suitable. Is that ok?"
"Yes, that's great, Madam."
"You'll find fresh towels and gis in this cupboard, and put your soaking clothes on one of these radiators to dry out. When you're ready, I'll be in the hall."
"Yes, Madam."
"Very good," she said softly, her face blossoming into a smile as she returned to the hall.
Fifteen minutes later I emerged from the shower wearing a fresh gi and feeling like a new man. Steam billowed from my wet clothes as they lay on a boiling radiator.
Back in the hall, I met Madam Katsuragi. She smiled to herself as she looked me up and down.