letters to the master

the arena resounds with the audience's cheer. They cheer not for me, but for my opponent. He - it goes by many names but for now, Walkabout.

You said that "Don't worry, I will be by your side during the fight". My eyes are red and puffy. My breath is short. My mouth dry. I only taste the salty blood that runs from my head trickling down to my mouth. I can barely stand up. My 'student band' around my head is soaked crimson with my own blood.

This is round 17 (years) and there isn't one round that i have even remotely come close to victory with. 17 rounds of knockout - but this fight isn't based on knockouts, it's based on elimination or surrender.
I look up and try to peer amidst the blurred vision. I don't see very well. One of my eye is nearly completely shut due to an open wound near it from a direct hit.

You my Master are no where in sight

"I will be by your side, when you're fight goes on"

You thought me (the art of) Hope - but it's countered with Disappointment
You thought me (the art of) Seeking First - but it's countered with Broken Dreams
You thought me (the art of ) Companionship - but it's countered with Grief and Rejection
You thought me (the art of) Prayer - but it's countered with Silence
You thought me (the art of) Joy - but it's countered with Despair and Injustice

Every move you thought me, my opponent has countered and deflected. Again i peer around, maybe someone will help me fight this battle, for i am barely even standing up now - but everyone is too busy. No one is around, not even you my Master.

I have ran out of arts to use. You only thought me so much stating that "It's sufficient" but every move i made, has been futile. Let me try Hope stance one more time - Countered; Companionship - Countered; Joy ! - Countered.

The bell rings as i am given a full minute to attempt to stand up again. Look, on the floor of the ring - crimson and clear spots. The last blow must have opened a new wound, and more tears flow now marring my vision even more.

i know - i know that You posses the "Satsui No Hadou" both the touch of death and touch of life. If You were here, You'd have an art that Walkabout could never counter - but you are not here.
For some, their Legend came and they double-teamed their Walkabout, but for me?
Legend is what Legend is - a Legend.

Despite the 17 rounds of knockouts, the blood, the tears, the (arts) things that i do which are all rendered ineffective, despite being beaten down to my seemingly last breath, despite enduring wracking pains each time i draw breath because my ribs have punctured my lungs, despite leaning only one one arm because the other is broken, despite a staggered footwork from a broken leg - because i carry your insignia, your symbol, i will attempt to stand again, and assume battle stance.

For now the fight is not entirely over, though it really does feel like it.
The only hope that i have, are your words "When the time comes, I will teach you Senpukyaku to defeat your opponent". Maybe that day or time, will be accompanied by "The Heart of Courage"

But for now, forgive me for the moments i lose sight and lie on the arena floor in my pool of blood. Forgive me when i have no strength left to assume the stances you taught me. Forgive me when many times i feel like surrendering, especially after 17 rounds of defeat.

In moments such as this my Master, i only pray that you see my broken heart within my wracking body

Your Student
Tats