#practice practice

He can’t do it. 

“No no, don’t do this with me, Randy.” The throbbing in Sasha’s head got louder; who knew the headaches stayed even when you were dead? “We need someone else–”

Frustration strained from her son’s voice, growing louder and desperate, “We don’t have anyone else! If you guys try and find and train someone, Norrisville’s gonna be run into the ground by the Sorceress by the time they’re ready to hold the damn sword; and you know that!”

He’ll get hurt.

“It’s a bad idea,” she hissed out, rubbing her temples.

“It’s the only idea! I have you and Kuni, Mom- I can’t get trained by anyone better.”

Sasha’s breathing was uneven, “Randy-”

“No one else has ever been trained by the First Ninja, I could have an advantage!”

They’ll rip him apart.

The anxiety that once simmered, now boiled over in her gut, the unease ripping at her from inside. Images of her boy toiling in the same fights she endured, cut and bruised from the enemies she was supposed to stop, flashed in her mind in a sick reel. Overlapping with his hopeful interjections, the last ninja reached her tipping point.

He’ll get killed in the fight you couldn’t finish.

 The words came out like bile in her throat, “Stop it, it’s too dangerous, Randy!”

Shock flashed across his features, a thick wool of silence settling between them. HIs expression shifted, the surprise gone in place of a wounded scowl, “I already know that, Mom! It’s Friday night, and I’m here talking to your ghost instead of sitting in our booth at The Pit!” a humorless, dry noise left him, steeped in bitter anger, “Yeah, it’s dangerous, it didn’t stop you though, did it? From doing what’s right?” 

He sounded so rational, more mature than his fourteen years should warrant. He was what they needed, a kid with a good head on his shoulders who could lead them well with more training. 

Yet amidst all the logic and sensibility, all she could see was the boy she raised.

The boy who always laughed too hard and danced like an awkward marionette; who had his goofy likeness immortalized in the Game Pit’s hall of fame for his winning streak; a creative kid whose smile stretched from ear to ear while he scribbled on any surface he could. 

Drowning in dark robes sizes too large, lanky limbs recoiling inwards in his defense; there was no fabled ninja protege- only Randy. 

Sasha stepped forward, braving the thick air to wrap her arms around her son.

Sweet, good Randy.

Pressing her face against his dark hair, she felt him return the embrace just as tightly as her own; hands shaking while he muffled his sobs into her shoulder. Grief and pleading bled from his fingertips against her now eternal uniform, a heavy reminder that she was no longer the protector of Norrisville– of her family. 

A pained chuckle left her after a minute, the mother pulling apart from her son just enough to hold his face in her hands. 

“No, I guess it didn’t stop me.” she gave a watery smile, her thin fingers wiping the tears from his cheeks, “My sweet, little boy…When did you get so wise?”

His laugh was an echo of the ones she knew so well, “Well, my nanny was a priest, so I’d blame him first.”

A smile graced her lips before she pressed them together in a line, her hands falling to his shoulders. 

He’ll be okay. We’ll be there for him.

“You’ll start training on Monday at 3 a.m.” 

Randy’s eyes widened as she looked back to Kuni, who still leaned against one of the temple columns, his arms folded across his chest.