Chapter 50: 'The Spirit is willing'

Moving past the dark mirror of a building's marble facade, Katsuhito paused to regard himself. Then, for perhaps the hundredth time tugged at the collar of his dark brown suit.

Wishing for perhaps the thousandth time all this was unnecessary. More by far angrier at fate than the lovely and overly inquisitive Miss Andarka Moi who'd made this trip an sudden imperative!

Wondering, as he had many times as well, if the world was finally about to catch up with him.

Speculating the day might be fast approaching when he own carelessness or more likely, the unblinking eye of some computer at last revealed one walking among mankind who was truly 'inhuman'.

Ironic really, he'd seen a movie on TV only last week where almost this exact same thing had occurred! Dryly he glanced at his reflection, musing that he too carried a sword.

"There can be only one!" He muttered sarcastically.

Of course that fictitious immortal wouldn't be caught dead wearing this! With or without his noggin! Straitening the tie of his brown suit yet again. Katsuhito had to admit it had weathered well. The last time he could remember wearing it was during Tenchi's middle school's graduation. Of course the suit was older than that. Over thirty years, if the truth were told. Having been purchased for Achika's grade school production of Romeo and Juliet. His wife had been hounding him that he should at lest try to look 'trendy' and wool was the rage that year! Sadly, little Achika did not play the part of 'Juliet' not, that it mattered. She made a perfectly fetching apothecary.

Katsuhito sighed, he had so little use for such thing as suits and fashion in his humble life style. Maybe it was time to break down and buy a new wardrobe. Perhaps something in basic black? He shook his head sadly. He was kidding himself and knew it! As far back as he could remember and honestly he didn't want to. He'd had to ask someone to help him.

"You have no taste!" He sniffed gruffly at his reflection. "Or a sense of style!"

"Face it papa!" A voice lilted to his right. "You're a fashion disaster!"

Glancing to that side of his reflection Katsuhito caught sight of his daughter grinning at him from out of the building's marble. Still dressed as he always saw her in her black school girl sailor suit.

"You ok old fella?" Katsuhito barely heard the voice in his ear.

Centuries of training reacted to the touch lightly settling on to his shoulder. Hand falling to his boken where it rode in a special sheath atop his brief case Katsuhito whirled. He had half drawn his sword when the startled look in the young man's eye formerly behind him, made him halt. Realizing he was in no danger forcing himself to relax.