Magical Sailor Fuku

(Stop me if I'm jumping the gun, but I'm going to take a proactive step, here.)

Michiko stumbles his way onto a section of town, his senses immediately filled with the pungent smells of blood and sweat. From all around, battlecries and the thudding of punches stealthily sound to Michiko’s ears.

“Well, at least I’m on the right street.â€

A little girl trudges onto the path, in front of Michiko. She's dragging a full-sized shinai behind her, and atop her head is a helmet with barred mask to protect the face. She's wearing a dougi in her own size, and she's barefoot, but nothing else seems to match. A few locks of her curly, blonde hair drape down from the helmet's base.

She turned around to face the direction that the shinai was facing in, and she grunted with effort, sometimes squealing, as she attempted to lift the practice weapon from the ground. While she got did manage to lift it straight up, she couldn't balance its weight well and it ended up falling back to the ground despite her protesting. She stomped her foot in indignation and tried again.

Michiko heard the thud of someone falling, judging from the general sound, it was someone small or young and lightweight (the squealing made it definitely possible that she was a young girl) carrying a wooden staff...no it sounded more like bamboo specifically and the cracking sound when it hit the ground was reminiscent of a one of those kendo practice sword, and judging from the stomp, someone was angry.

He walked over to the origin of the sound, and stood next to the girl, seemingly watching her try to balance the sword.

"Um, excuse me Miss?" Michiko smiled, leaning over a littleto be face to face with where the squealing came from, "I don't mean to interupt your kendo practice, but could you help me? I was attempting to find the Aimimi Dojo. It was suppsed to be on this street, but I'm afraid I can't see the signs."

She gasped in surprise, causing the shinai to land on her head, the force of which being enough to send her to her rear.

"Gah!" She complained, sounding cute. "Don' doo dat!"

She stood back up and (with a bit of trouble) took off her helmet. Her emerald eyes sparkled in the sunlight, though at the moment they were somewhat molded by irritation, matching somewhat with her pouting lips.

Her arms were akimbo before she asked: "Yoo wanted sumting?"

"Terribly sorry. I'm lost, you see. I'm trying to find the Aimimi Dojo and my eyes aren't so good. I know it's on this street, but would you be so kind at to direct me to where it is?" Michiko said, continuing to smile.

Giving Michiko that "are you kidding me?" look, she points over his shoulder, to the sign behind him.

"Dat whatcha lookin' fer?" She asked, looking cute despite her obvious patronizing.

Michiko sweatdropped

"Is what what now?" Michiko quesitoned. He sensed that the girl was now pointing behind herself, so he kept walking until the sign ws in front of him. He leaned on the sign, facing towards the building it was in front of.

"Err... is this the place?"

The girl sighed and shook her head. "No, no, no..."

She takes Michiko by the hand and leads him in the opposite direction to where he had gone, which had been the opposite direction of where she had pointed. She led him around to the front of the Aimimi dojo and stopped at the entrance, pointing to the sign on the wall, to the left of the entrance.

"lookin' fer Aimimi, right?"

"Yeah...Is that what it says here? So THIS is it," Michiko smiled, "Guess I better start learning the layout, not to mention the students...I wonder how high level the students are now?"

Michiko calmly walked up to the door, felt the crease where it slid open and pushed the door aside.

"Thanks, little missy. It's kinda embarrasing not to know where your own dojo is."

The little girl blinked, giving Michiko an incredulous look.

"Huh? You sayin' dat dis heeyuh dojo is yers?"

"Well, now it is. I'm Aimimi Michiko, the current praticioner and honarary master of the Aimimi School of Script Seal Arts!" Chiko proudly states, pointing a thumb at his own chest.

Feeling as if her reputation were at stake, she puffed out her chest and proudly said, "Yeah, well... I'll be duh mashtuh of my own dojo someday!" Almost as an afterthought, she added, "Justa soon as my old man croaks!"

"Oh, really. And what dicipline are you mastering?" Michiko asked, leaning down and smiling at the child.

Michiko coughed, not wanting to be rude, but not expecting no response at all. He slowly backed up towards the Dojo now belonging to himself.

(OOC: Sorry for the long, um... Delay? ^_^; )

"I'm gonna master the art of Pirouetting Kendo!" She boasted, then attempted to display some technique that she had seen performed by her father. As soon as she tried, though, she found herself overbalanced by the weight of her shinai and was sent onto her back.

"Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow...!"