It’s the most charming thing I’ve experienced in a very long time and makes me reflect again on how easily I fall back on my assumptions about people. Only when I give them a chance to prove me wrong do I discover the true them. I really should work on that.
My thoughts are interrupted by the sensei proclaiming he’s happy with the fluidity of our sequences and he, now serious again, tells us we are about to wield a real – and extremely sharp – samurai sword.
The whole group gasps in appreciation when he brings it out and proudly shows it to us.
It’s a thing of beauty, the suggestion of its potential viciousness an unsettling counterpoint to its elegant craftsmanship.
My palms grow sweaty just looking at it.
A rolled bamboo mat is placed on its end on a pedestal and the sensei goes through the technique of how to slice the sword in a diagonal motion to first cut the top of the mat clean off, then how to cut through the middle of it, reducing it to just a stub.
He expertly demonstrates this in one fluid movement, sending the two severed pieces of the mat to the floor in what feels like one second flat.
I swallow hard, intimidated by the task ahead, but determined to do it well. Thankfully, the sensei then instructs us that we should just make one cut at a time as we’re beginners, which is a massive relief.
Kit goes before me and I marvel at how focused he is on getting this right. He’s always been this way, at least ever since I’ve known him. I’m sure it’s something to do with him being the youngest sibling and having been ridiculed by his brother and sister – particularly his brother – when anything he did was deemed to be less than exceptional.
I remember lying in bed with him, back in our uni days, early on in our fling, when he’d drunkenly told me about the tricky relationship he had with his family, after I’d asked him about his background. They expected so much from him and he’d never felt like he matched up to their expectations.
It had been one of the only times we’d talked about anything serious. He’d not gone back to the subject again and I got the impression he didn’t usually talk about his family’s dynamics.
I bet they think about him differently now though, now he’s a billionaire.
That has to have gone some way towards pacifying his need to always be better and cooler than the next person.
Though perhaps notallthe way.
He still seems to have a need to make up for the praise and respect he clearly feels he missed out on growing up, if his relationship with Katya is anything to go by.
As I watch him cut the bamboo in exactly the right place he was instructed to, and see the flash of relief on his face, my heart turns over.
I have a sudden realisation about how hard it must be for him when his relationships don’t work out. It must amplify that chasm of longing to feel special that echoes inside him.
I’m brought back to the present when Kit turns to give me a smile of such satisfaction a tingle of pleasure makes its way from deep in the base of my spine up to my scalp.
He’s happy – at least, in this moment he is – and it’s wonderful to see it.
After receiving his high five from the sensei, he walks back to his stool and raises his hand to me too. I meet it with my own.
‘Thanks for bringing me here,’ he murmurs, his voice suffused with delight as he looks deep into my eyes.
I open my mouth to reply, to tell him it’s my absolute pleasure – which it really has been – but before I can say anything, the sensei calls for me to come and cut my own bamboo mat.
Determined not to let myself down in front of Kit and the crowd of onlookers, I step up, check my understanding of the moves, then take a breath and guide my limbs to perform them, hoping to goodness I don’t miss my target.
Even though my cuts aren’t as neat as Kit’s, relief trickles through me as I see the bamboo fall to the floor and I receive my own high five from the sensei.
Kit grins at me as I walk back to my stool and take my seat next to him, my legs still a little shaky with nerves.
‘Nice one, Dasher. As elegant as ever,’ he says, his eyes alive with approval.
In that moment I realise I like him.
Reallylike him.
Stunned by this unnerving insight, I quickly squash the feeling down and give him a tight smile.
‘A new skill to add to our inventory,’ I joke, not able to meet his eyes again in case he sees in them the very thing I don’t want him to see.
