Pursuit of the Art Takes Hold of You

“…Yamashita Sensei is a master of the sword and other arts,” [Ueda] began. But Marangan jumped in. If he were a cobra, his hood would have swelled out in excitement. “And you are his student,” he told me with a slight air of satisfaction. “Come to rescue your master.” He smiled then, and you saw that his teeth were crooked and stained and long like his face. “I honor you for the effort.” Marangan stood up. It was a smooth motion, like a spring uncoiling. “Perhaps you would be interested in my art as well.”

“We gotta waste time with this?” Micky hissed in my ear as we followed Marangan.

“Yeah,” I told him. “Shuddup.” I knew Marangan. I’ve spent most of my adult life with people like him. When he had described himself as a mandirigma—a warrior—it sounded a bit over the top. But people like him lose themselves in a world of their own making. It doesn’t matter whether the art deals with fists or feet or sticks or blades. The pursuit of the art takes hold of you if you do it long enough. It becomes in many ways a reality bigger than reality itself. Everything is judged in terms of it. Including people. Marangan would need to know how I fit in his world. It would tell him how far he could push me and how far I would push him back….

— Tengu, Chapter 15

Author’s emphases in italic. Mine are in bold.