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Confused and in disbelief, I followed Mr. Hattori out of the tiny kitchen and out into the dojo area. He turned right, and headed for the door that I had not been in yet. He opened it, and walked right into the darkness beyond. Is this another test of some sort? I cautiously slipped into the room. It was so dark I couldn't see my good paw waving in front of my face. Bright light suddenly streamed down from above. I looked up into it, a stupid mistake, and was temporarily blinded for my ignorance. I closed my eyes and held up my good fist in defense as I waited for my vision to adjust. It did fairly quickly, and I once more opened my eyes. I found myself standing in a long, thing hallway, with a door to the left, right, and one at the opposite end. Mr. Hattori stood near that door, with a paw on the light switch.

"Sorry," he commented, "need to put switch on that end." He walked back toward me and went to the door to my right.

"So, what's behind Door Number One?" I joked, relaxing my stance. He turned around with a wry smile on his grayed muzzle and turned the handle. I followed him into this new room. He flicked on the light, and an impressive sight greeted my eyes.

It looked like I had just walked into Japan. The floor was covered in the strange bamboo reed mats that covered the floor of my room, which Mr. Hattori had told me were called _tatami_mats. The walls were occupied in giant Japanese murals, which intricately depicted towering ocean waves, mountainous valleys, rolling planes, and great battles of the ancient world. A low, simple bed like mine sat against one wall. A sheathed, curved, ornate Japanese blade sat on a thin shelf above the bed. All the other walls, where not covered by murals, were conquered by bookcases stuffed with tattered tomes and what appeared to be ancient scrolls. I took another step in, dazed at the volume of old scripts before me.

Mr. Hattori shuffled over to one of the lower bookcases and picked up something off of it. I couldn't tell what it was until me came over and showed it to me: it was a picture frame with an old, faded, square photograph inside. A handsome young male fox and a beautiful vixen stood together in the middle, with a child fox standing between them. Behind them sat a beautifully crafted Japanese building, displaying its sloping roof with exaggerated angles and iron-colored roof tiles. The walls were of wood so old they were turning gray. An ancient black wooden door with gilded oriental dragons carved into it sat in the center of the structure. The cherry trees behind the building were in full bloom, painting the entire background a brilliant pink hue. The family in the center looked small, but content.

Mr. Hattori pointed to the handsome fur. "Guess who that is?"

I examined the photograph for a moment, then stared in awe at the ancient fox that stood beside me. "Is that you?"

He smiled. "I looked pretty good, yes?" He pointed to the female. "My mate," he told me.

"Wow," I breathed, holding the picture closer. The lady fox sported finely defined curves and fiery red fur. Her sly, confident expression shone through the fading colors, and seemed to look right at me. She looked like she could be a model. "She's hot."

"Yes," Mr. Hattori commented sadly. "She was."

"Oh..." Shit. "Is she...?"

"Yes," he said with a heavy sigh.

"How did..." I started, but realized just in time how rude the question would be. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

"She was caught in crossfire in gang fight, about two months after this picture was taken. She died in my arms."

I was stunned. Now I felt like an asshole. I couldn't believe how insensitive I'd been. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Hattori, I didn't mean any--"

He waved a hand, cutting me off. "It's okay," he told me, "It was a long time ago."

"Doesn't make it any less painful," I pointed out.

He paused, and seemed to stare off into the distance for a second. "Yes, I guess you are right." He shook his head, dispelling his thoughts, and pointed to the young child. "My son."

I looked more closely at the last person in the photograph. The smallest fox was covered in bushy, rust-colored fur like his father. He looked uncomfortable standing there, as if he would rather run around and play instead of standing still for a picture. One ear stood up on his head, as if at attention, while the other one was flopped over to the side in a cute way.

I looked back at Mr. Hattori. "He looks just like you."

He nodded and smiled slightly. "Yes, but not nearly as gray," he said with a chuckle. The smile slowly disappeared as he continued: "He had to live without a mother for rest of his life. We moved to America afterwards, but he didn't seem the same. He looked sad, and no longer wanted to play. He was quiet for years." Mr. Hattori turned to me again. "You remind me of how he was before that. Always wondering about the world."

I wanted to ask what happened to his son, but then I remembered what happened last time I asked that question. I didn't want to hurt Mr. Hattori again, so I just nodded my head and kept my eyes on the photo.

"As he grew older, he seemed to grow angrier with each passing year. At age sixteen, he demanded I teach him martial arts, as I have others. I cautioned him about revenge, but he was so eager... I taught him everything I knew. He was best student I ever had. But once he finished training, as I predicted, he traveled back to Japan to confront his mother's killers." Mr. Hattori was silent.

"Did he succeed?" I asked slowly.

"Yes," he replied, "but at high cost. His own life."

My mind was overwhelmed. How can so many bad things happen to one person? "I'm so sorry, Mr. Hattori." I said, putting my paw on his shoulder.

He nodded. "You are so much like him, doraneko. Curious, willing to learn, intelligent... yet sad and scared at same time. And most of all, wishing to learn my art to avenge those you care about."

It dawned on me that I had been selfish in asking him so much. It was already more than generous of the old fur to let me hide out and mooch off his food. But I really did want to learn whatever he could teach me. If I were to ever show my face on the streets again, I would need to know how to kick some ass.

And then I realized: all Mr. Hattori wanted was his family back. His wife and his son had both been killed by gangs, and he'd lived for years alone, with nobody to love or be loved by. And now that he felt like I was part of the family, who was I to take that away from him again? I know what it feels like to be so alone, and I didn't want anyone else to feel like I did. He just needed someone to be there for him, someone who wouldn't leave him alone again.

I took my paw off his shoulder, and he turned around to face me. "Mr. Hattori, you don't have to teach me Kung Fu if you don't want to." I told him sincerely.

"I know I don't have to," he replied. "That's why I'm going to teach you anyway."

What?? "But I thought--"

He held up a paw to stop me, and a small smile crossed his lips. "After thinking about it for years, I realized my mistake was supporting his quest of hatred. He insisted that I teach him everything I know. He demanded it. You, on the other paw, do not fight out of hate, but out of sense of right. You did not beg or plead. You are more deserving than he."

"But he was avenging his mother, your mate. He was your son. Family is more important than strangers." I told him.

"But you never know when stranger can become like family," he said with a wink, once again seeming to read my mind. "I know you will use the training for good, because I know you are good person."

I lowered my head, and tears started to come to my eyes. Nobody had ever thought that before. In the orphanage and on the streets, I was "just another hoodlum" fighting to stay alive. I never stopped to consider whether what I did was right or wrong. But somewhere inside me, the old fox saw a glimmer of hope. Mr. Hattori held up my chin with a gentle paw. "You are good. You may not believe me, but you are. I want to help you achieve your goal. You may not understand now, but in the future you will."

"But I thought you said I didn't have the wisdom to learn martial arts." I reminded him.

Mr. Hattori threw his paws into the air. "Why you think I've been having you read classic books lately? To look at pictures? No, these books teach many things. Sherlock Holmes: rational and logical thought. Moby Dick: dangers of revenge. The Art of War: common sense and battlefield tactics. Don't you see? I decided to teach you long ago. Your cause is noble. You plan not to use your power for personal gain, but to liberate an entire city. You are more deserving of this training than anyone, doraneko."

Now the tears fell freely from my eyes. Mr. Hattori stood as tall as he could and hugged me as I put my head on his shoulder. But I don't deserve this, I thought. But, if he thinks I am ready, then this could be my only chance to save New Lou. And I'm not gonna let this opportunity slip by.

I pulled myself together and took a step back from the old fox. "Gonna tell me what doraneko means anytime soon?" I asked.

He nodded. "I will tell you now. It means 'stray cat', which fits you well. I found you lost and dying on the streets, so I took you in. Perhaps someday we can find a home for you, eh doraneko?"

I nodded in return. I liked the sound of it. It fit me perfectly. The Stray Cat. It sounded like the shadowy, mysterious superhero title I had always dreamed of. And now that I was going to learn martial arts, I could beat up 'bad guys' and save the city like I always wanted.

"So..." I started, rubbing my paws together eagerly. "What kind of martial art are you going to teach me?"

Mr. Hattori chuckled. "Definitely not Kung Fu. No, something less flashy, but far more practical."

"Well, what is it??"

"Ninjutsu."

My mind froze in shock. "You mean--"

"Yes, doraneko, you shall train to become ninja."

I couldn't believe it. I didn't think there were any people capable of teaching ninjutsu in America. I thought all that ninja stuff was just in Japan. But I guess the art had spread. I had never imagined I would be one of the elite warriors of shadow, who were rumored to have the power to turn invisible. Who could kill anyone deadly accuracy, using a vast array of weapons and magic.

"Great!" I said excitedly. "When do we start?"

"Right now, if you like."

"Awesome! So how are you gonna teach me? Is it gonna be like one of those 'wax on, wax off' things from Karate Kid?"

"No," he said with a sly smile. "But if you are offering to wash my car, it is in need of cleaning...." He walked past me and opened the door out of the room.

Reprimanding myself for walking right into such a trap, I followed him out the door and into the hallway. He stood at the door at the end of the hallway, opposite the one that led to the dojo area. He opened it and went through, turning on the lights as I followed him in.

The room was a small one-car garage, made completely out of concrete. Various maintenance tools and other car-related items surrounded a simple, dated-looking white crossover vehicle that resembled a Jeep Cherokee.

"What the hell?!?" I blurted as I saw the dark reddish-brown splatter on the white hood and the front grill caving in. "You kill someone with this thing??"

"No..." he said innocently. "I accidentally hit a stray cat that ran out into the street."

I glared at him as I realized what he really meant. The smile on his face slowly turned into a chuckle, and soon became roaring laughter.