I DID IT!! Okay, I'm leaving for Costa Rica in just a few hours, but I was bound and determined to get the next chapter up before I left. If you'll notice, the story has currently become a four-part fic. Which means we're not done yet, tee-hee! It was only a few days ago that I got the idea to include the scene which this chapter is named for. I hope this chap doesn't appear rushed or anything, 'cause I felt like I needed to expand a bit more on Koto's character… So this is more of a peek at Shifu's cubhood prior to coming to the Palace.

I thank everyone who's reviewed my story so far, I really appreciate all your comments! I'll be back Tuesday night!

Enjoy!

oOoOo

Chapter 3: Ripples

By the time Shifu was nearing the Palace, he had decided that it wouldn't kill him to sew a hood onto his rain cape. Whenever his fur thickened itself for winter and somehow got damp, he smelled like a wet dog. Not only that, but whenever he dried off again too quickly, his fur got so bushy that he looked like a Persian White. He was probably the only one in the Valley that could say that they smelled like a dog and looked like a cat every time it rained. This, Shifu preferred not to advertise.

Finally walking underneath the protective overhang in front of the palace, the drenched red panda leaned his lamp pole against one of the dragon-embellished pillars and gave his head a shake, once more sending several drops of water flying off. He took off his rain cape, shaking it as well so as to not drip on the floor of the Jade Palace.

Once he was void of every drop of rain he could manage, he pushed open the heavy doors. In the dark of night – with the addition of a raging storm – the palace was like a shrine of shadows. The only lights present were the ever-glowing hues of green, blue, and aqua that reflected off of the still surface of the Moon Pool and created a permanent beam of light that stretched all the way to the ceiling.

The pool, however, was not Shifu's reason of coming by any means. The kung fu master padded down the polished jade walkway in the center of the palace. He kept his attention mainly on the west wall, where – like on the east wall – several paintings hung. Each one was a depiction of the bravest warriors and the greatest figures of kung fu history. Each of these heroes had their own section of the wall, and most of them had candles and some sort of relic of significance to stand before the aforementioned paintings.

Shifu continued his way down towards the end of the hallway, lifting his lantern to glance at the paintings as he passed. General Shao-Han, Master Frog, Master Bull, Commander Wolf… The aspirations of Shifu's cub-hood had revolved around these heroes' individual stories.

He reached the last two scroll paintings and slowed to a stop. The first of the two was Master Oogway. The last scroll – Shifu's aim – was tucked back a bit out of the light to the point that the aging red panda had to raise his lantern up a bit more.

The cerise glow from the silk orb revealed the painted scroll hung carefully from the wall. Shifu looked up upon the focus of the painting – a red panda with dark brown-tipped ears and clothed in a robe of emerald green standing under a vermillion evening sky and atop a grassy cliff. The robe was fastened with a black sash around the waist, the two ends of which fluttered in an unseen but present wind. The elaborate brushstrokes of the watercolors depicted a rampant gold dragon stitched onto both black cuffs of the robe. A third golden dragon – this one much smaller – was stitched on the front of the robe around the area of the heart. The warrior stood leaning into the wind in a full hunting cat stance. Both of his arms were held out straight to the sides and his steadfast gaze was directed straightforward. Three Chinese symbols were written in the upper right-hand corner of the scroll: "honor, simplicity, courage". Carefully set before the painting, on a small rack surrounded by an incense dish and small white candles, was a familiar-looking bamboo reed flute.

Setting the lantern pole against the nearby pillar so that he still had some light, Shifu walked forward and reached for the incense stick. The moment he lit it and set it into its dish, the clean, refreshing scent of sandalwood filled the entire hallway.

The kung fu master stepped back and seated himself on the jade floor. He eyes wandered from the painting of Koto to the bamboo flute – the very same one he had played so many times before, and the very same one he had seen his father take to the heads of Lang and Gou the night of his murder. Whether he was using the reed as a flute or as a weapon of combat, Koto performed it all in grace.

It was one of the few things of his father's that the red panda master had left – and it was, in truth, about as old as he was. Once Shifu had officially taken Oogway's place as Grand Kung Fu Master and had inherited the tortoise's staff, he had decided that it was finally time for the bamboo flute to lie to rest with the soul that had so caringly crafted it.

Koto had been a man of several temperaments. He had always been a very strict individual that demanded respect and obedience from his son and his soldiers alike. If either ever failed to follow orders, it was met with severe punishment. Shifu recalled firsthand that his father would not hold back from administering a beating if necessary.

But, just like the kung fu katas he had practiced all his life, Koto could be fierce and gentle at the same time. Despite his austere nature, he wasn't cold and ruthless as some had made him out to be. He also knew that raising a young and naive cub was a far cry from directing an army.

To his young son, Koto had been nothing but the ideal warrior: brave, dexterous, swift – the list went on. But the reality was that the captain of the Chinese army was a troubled man at his core, striving to do his best in spite of it. Shifu's mother had been lost to the talons of three Mongol Eagles, and the toddler cub himself might've suffered the same fate had Koto not whisked him narrowly out of the way of a fourth Eagle's razorlike grip.

Koto could never forget all that careened through his mind and soul in that single moment with his cub shielded under his arm on one side and the Eagle speared at the end of his sword on the other… To think that he had been literally an inch from losing his son as well as his wife – from losing everything in the world he held dear.

It broke the young father's heart for his son to have experienced it. Shifu hadn't understood what had happened and why ma mi had disappeared without a trace. After that day, Koto decided that his son would benefit from beginning his training early on. So, at the tender age of three when he had finally gotten a handle on speech, Shifu started learning the most basic of punches, blocks, kicks, and stances from his father. As he grew older, it became clear that the cub had a natural aptitude for kung fu. Not only was he good at it, but it would quickly became a passion he'd carry with him for the rest of his life.

When he wasn't training and learning the proper conduct of a kung fu warrior, Shifu recalled being a surefire and typical "tough little boy"…at least part of the time.

Between that and the frenetic spirit he'd only learned how to harness once he was older, he could only imagine that he constantly sent his father on the brink of a stroke. But, he had learned early on that when his elders spoke him to, he had best listen and obey.

However, there were times when even Shifu had had his 'Tom Sawyer moments' – usually when his peers goaded him into it. He had had three playmates that lived throughout the village that Koto allowed him to play with a short time every day.

Shifu had been, fittingly, the self-proclaimed leader of the group. Benjirou, the otter pup, was quite the little scamp; mischievous, brazen, and rambunctious. Taplo, the little Chinese goral, could be just as mischievous – but was mainly a very sweet and silent kid. And, at times, there was also Lin-Lin – a little raccoon girl who had something of a crush on Shifu. She was slightly younger than the boys, but – although sometimes begrudgingly – they looked out for her like a little sister, lest they found themselves in a bad situation.

It wasn't that Shifu and his friends always went looking for trouble… But rather – like it happens for all young boys with a pulse – trouble always found Shifu and his friends. One such example of this had been when the four friends had made an unfortunate run-in with two bullying piglets slightly older than themselves.

It had been bad enough when they had started mercilessly picking on Lin, and this had been where Shifu had stepped in to defend the little raccoon. Unfortunately, his fervor and the additional three inches he had on Lin didn't sway them in the least.

The proverbial camel's back broke, however, when one of the piglets made an insult on Koto, directly followed by one towards Shifu's size. The cub then proceeded to show the piglet that he was a perfectly capable size…red panda style. Sure enough – a rapid sweep kick, a punch, and an excruciating arm lock later – the young pig became convinced. And, like the pals they were, Shifu's friends only egged the cub on to continue and give the bully what for. Unfortunately again, this was the point when the second piglet decided he was going to get involved in the discord.

Shifu's first one-on-two fight was an impressive display for his friends to see…. But this did not apply to everyone who took note of it. The cub's fulmination was only interrupted when a strong hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and a stringent voice ordered him to stand down. Koto managed to pry his son away from his quarry and curb any further combat between the two parties. Shifu's friends and the two piglets were quick to take off when the captain ordered them to return to their parents. He then shot a glare at the red panda cub beside him.

"Home," he demanded, turning for the road with his son trailing behind.

Koto didn't say a word the entire way home, which was downright torturous to Shifu. He hated it when this happened. He would've rather wished to endure being scolded and yelled at than having to face his father's stone-cold silence. Koto only continued down the road, carrying his reed behind his back, staring heavily forward, and walking with the slightest uneven gait from a mending battle wound. Once they did arrive home, the cub half expected that he would be told to go retrieve the switch from the front closet. He was a bit confused when Koto turned away from the three small wooden steps that led up to the house. He instead made his way for the tea tree nearby.

From under the tree, one could see the Zongxian River glittering a mere stone's throw to the south. At this particular time of day, hues of pink and gold began to overtake the blue skies. Dappled light poured through the treetops, spotting the ground. The thrushes were beginning to bed down for the night in the trees, their songs dwindling down to soft twitters.

Shifu watched his father finally come to a stop underneath the shade of the branches. Dipping into the shadows, he appeared as nothing but a silhouette set against the golden glittering of the river. Still turned away from his son, Koto pulled the reed from behind his back and gracefully gave it a few rapid twirls in front of him. Brandishing it like a sword, he then spun it to a stop and laid it on the ground beside the tree. He had no use for it right now. It was in these times that Koto willingly put aside his sword, his rank, and his dignity, all to take the moment to be a father.

Shifu slightly fidgeted, however, when the elder red panda then turned to look at him with a frown and broke the silence.

"Shifu," he ordered in a composed but authoritative tone, "come here now."

The nervous cub came forward after only a second's hesitation, his ears hung inadvertently low. "…Sir?' he spoke up in a quiet voice.

Casting a glance over towards the river, Koto closed his eyes briefly and sighed. He couldn't be too hard on the kid; he was only five. Still, Shifu knew better than most his age. "When I returned from the kwoon today, the last thing I ever expected to see was my son openly attacking someone. I'd like an explanation of this."

Shifu's eyes lowered to the packed earth beneath their feet, not really quite sure where to begin.

"Those boys you were fighting," Koto got right to the point, "did they threaten you or hurt you or any of your friends?"

"No, sir…" the answer came quietly.

"Did they try to?"

This response was even quieter to the point that Koto couldn't quite make it out.

"Speak up," he enjoined in a mildly stern tone.

"… I said no, sir…"

"Then I'd like to know what made you decide that attacking them was the right choice."

Shifu wanted to disappear into the ground. He could feel his father's deep blue eyes on him, and it made him squirm. He did, however, glance up at Koto to read the look on his face.

It was that look that said: "Think well before you answer. Lie or tell the truth, it's your choice. But you know what would result from either path." Shifu knew he couldn't lie to his father. He didn't like to lie to his father.

The cub proceeded to spill the beans as fast as he could. "They were pickin' on Lin and I tried to stop 'em and they made fun of you and called me a runt and…" He paused, his ears dropping a bit lower. "…Th-That's when I jumped 'em."

Koto let out a breath. "So your only method of dealing with the problem was hostility."

"H-He insulted our honor, Baba!" Shifu reasoned. "He said you were—"

"What he said is of no consequence," Koto snapped in a peremptory tone. "Honor is not regained by brashness. An opponent's mere words do not give us the right to demean ourselves to their level and allow ourselves to lose self control, Shifu, you know that!!"

The cub cringed slightly under the grating growl of his father's shout, his ears flattening against his head.

But it would be the only time in the conversation that Koto would raise his voice. He sighed. "…Come with me," he said quietly, walking over to the edge of the river.

Shifu wasn't quite sure what to think of this, but obediently followed his father. He watched as Koto reached down and picked up a small, smooth river rock. He turned to his cub and dropped it into his tiny, furry paws. "This stone is like all those words that boy said to you, son. Now," he motioned towards the river, "go put it in the riverbed."

Huh?

Although confused, Shifu did as he had been told. He crouched by the riverside and carefully placed the stone into the water. It sank the shallow distance down to the riverbed without a sound.

Shifu looked back up at his father, who shrugged. "Where are the ripples?" Koto inquired.

His son looked back down to the water. "There aren't any, Baba… I didn't drop it hard enough."

"All right," Koto nodded and came forward, kneeling beside him. "Look," he picked up another river rock pretty much identical to the one Shifu had just dropped. "The same size, the same shape…the same spoken words. Now, I want you to throw this one, okay? Give it a little force this time."

Shifu held out his paw and received the small stone, climbing to his feet to get a good throw in. The moment that stone departed from his fingers, it flew nearly the entire width of the river, landing in the water with a heavy and hollow splash. Ripples instantly fanned out from the epicenter of the broken surface and pulsed across the water. Upon seeing this, the cub's face brightened and he looked back at Koto for approval. "Look, Baba, the ripples!"

"I see," Koto had to smile at the fervor and excitement on his cub's little face. He stepped forward and picked up another rock, aiming it towards the river. "Your mind's like the surface of this water, Shifu… People may say things to provoke you or make you mad, but you still control how those words will affect you. You can allow them to just drop and sink to be forgotten…"

Shifu watched as the stone, like the others, soared through the air to plop into the water. Another set of ripples.

"…Or you can allow it to break the surface and anger you." Koto looked down at his son. "…A stone can only break the water's surface if it's thrown into it. And words can only impact you if you give them that force."

The cub glanced to the ground in that manner that Koto recognized as dawning guilt. "I…was just tryin' to take care'a Lin… You said that was what we're supposed to do… To protect the soft and weak from the hard and strong."

Koto smiled to himself. He knew that Lin rather fancied Shifu, and he had to remind himself that the priorities of a child were plenty different from any other – that a bully really did classify as a force of evil.

"It's good that you were willing to protect her, son," he pointed out. "But you shouldn't inflict harm on anyone unless he has tried to hurt someone himself. It is not our place to start unnecessary violence. Our place is to protect, Shifu."

"I know…" Shifu lowered his ears farther. "I'm…I'm sorry! I-I just got so—"

"Angry… I know," Koto said, his tone understanding. "As do we all. But a warrior must control his impulses as well as his anger," he explained, trying to be as monosyllabic in his justification as he could. "Anger is a dangerous weapon, son. It can poison the mind and a poisoned mind can lead to a darkened heart. And a darkened heart can all too easily lead to suffering."

If only Shifu had known how truly that one statement would be behind the longest, hardest 20 years of his life.

"A stone doesn't stop at breaking the water's surface," his father continued. "…The ripples it leaves behind grow and expand. Anger does the same if it isn't bridled." He paused. "…Understand?"

Shifu nodded quietly.

"…Well, now that you know this, I expect you to obey it," Koto added in a mildly strict tone. "And if it happens again, I will not be nearly as lenient, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," Shifu answered honestly.

His father nodded. "Good boy." He retrieved his bamboo staff and began to lead his son back into the house. "…I'll tell you what…" he spoke up, pointing out the dust-laced fur his son had earned during his fight. "If you go on and get a bath now, we can start on wing chun tonight."

Wing chun was a close contact style of kung fu that required – almost entirely – only the hands and the arms. To the untrained eye, it looked like some crossover between a slapping fight and a deadly game of cat's cradle. But it was, in truth, a lightning-fast and potentially dangerous practice that tested a fighter's wit, speed, and reflexes. The captain drove a hard bargain here that Shifu assented to with only a small deal of reluctance. The cub was just grateful he had been spared a spanking this time.

Shifu recalled, however, that he hadn't been let off the hook for his shenanigans so easily. The very next day, Koto had given him a couple of extra chores to do in the time he normally went to play with his friends. That was his father's creed – patient and just, he praised honesty and punished disobedience. There wasn't much compromise in that area. And to Koto, failure was not a bad thing. Shifu could remember the countless times when his form was off by a little or he couldn't get a move quite right. His father had always remained patient and understanding in guiding him, reminding him that every time he did essentially 'fail' a technique, he only learned a little more on how to do it correctly.

Even when Shifu had been at that point of wanting to quit and – at a very young age – on the verge of tears, that same gentle answer would come in that same voice. That rasping, calm timbre that was braided into Baba's every word.

"Try again."

Ever the eager cub, Shifu would try again. Fall down seven times and get back up eight times… Koto would say that, but only once he grew older did the cub understand it. Although it had driven him to the point of frustration many times, Shifu was grateful that his father had pushed him to persist.

Coming out of his thoughts for a moment, the old kung fu master finished lighting the candles and looked once more up at the painting of his father. His eyes rested on the captain's badge

The golden dragon he had seen always stitched on the front of Koto's robe was a symbol that every soldier in the Chinese army wore. The dragon's elongated, lion-like body was folded elegantly with its tail curled ever just so it encircled the area where its wearer's heart beat beneath the skin. Though always covered with armor during battle, it was a pledge of honor for all who donned it. It symbolized the courage of the lion and the heart of the dragon. No small number of Koto's soldiers showed both on the battlefield.

Koto had dedicated nearly his entire life to protect others – whether he knew them personally or not. He was a mother and a father, a student, and a captain, as well as a trainer to his son.

Training with his father was, for the cub, a learning experience like no other. "Move like you are the only force in the universe," he had always told Shifu. "Flow into the rhythm of your environment."

Shifu had never really understood this until he had first seen it for himself. There had been many times when he had stood in the hallway or the back or the room and had watched his father in the middle of a kata, which he always executed like a furious and spellbinding dance. What had always amazed the cub the most, however, was how Koto could move so swiftly and so fiercely, yet also so silently. The only sounds that ever came out of these moments was the slight whoosh of his hands cutting through the air, the faintest padding noise of his feet against the wooden floor, and the gentle breathing of the warrior himself.

Other times, when he was facing a training implement such as the Five-Arm Adversary – very similar to the devices Mantis favored – Koto would take on a much more intimidating ploy, shouting and growling as he struck, dodged, and flowed into the motion of the wooden arms with aggressive speed. And, just when he took a finalizing strike at one of the arms and Shifu could've sworn that something was about to go flying across the room, Koto stopped his hand a mere two centimeters from its target.

The cub had always been curious as to what his father's daily and rigorous training was like to experience. But in the Valley, kung fu training was a secret practice in which visitors were hardly allowed to observe. The students could not afford to be distracted at all during drills, so it was usually a matter of business with Master Oogway when someone paid a visit. So Shifu never did get to see the training hall until he had actually become a student himself.

Whenever Koto had been off training at the Jade Palace, Shifu had always remained at home with his tutor, Master Xue – a gray goose with very impressive eyebrows that danced with any change of expression from their master and always extracted a smile of amusement from the red panda cub. Xue had arrived at the house with his scrolls and treatises every morning, since he first began teaching Shifu at the age of four, and taught the cub everything from calligraphy to reading and history.

Shifu was, all in all, a good pupil. He knew that not many other boys his age got to learn much more than how to read. Yet despite Koto's position as a commanding officer, the captain would not indulge himself on any pleasure his soldiers couldn't. Shifu had been raised to know the value of humility through it, and his schooling was the one exception his father had made in this. And, although Shifu was overall a good pupil, the best of his attention always went into learning about the warriors of old. Because of both his father and Master Xue, he was very well versed in the tales of Master Flying Rhino, Master Frog, Master Bull, and several others. He had also learned about the masters his father trained alongside of, such as Master Baojia the lynx and Master Eri the ibis.

Someday he'd train alongside them, in this the little cub had great confidence.

"You will make it to the training hall all in good time, Chen Shifu," Xue had always told his young student, before reminding him to direct his focus back to his history lesson.

Though he was sometimes a very serious and stern schoolmaster, Xue had had a soft side that Shifu had seen only once before – on the night of Koto's death.

Not long after he had watched his father die right in front of his eyes, a small band of Koto's soldiers and assistants had run into the room. None of them had expected to come into such a scene as what laid before them: racks of training equipment destroyed, wood splintered from cracks about the walls and columns, the Sword of Heroes lying unceremoniously on the floor, and – with a tiny, bawling cub clinging to him – the lifeless body of Captain Chen-Koto.

Certain images from that night were still so vivid in Shifu's mind – the blood stain on his father's robe that made the green burlap suddenly appear brown, the hole in the wall where Raidon had nearly run Koto through, and the grief on the soldiers' faces as they kneeled and bowed their heads to honor their fallen captain.

Shifu refused to let anyone pull him away from his father. Even with gentle touches and words of comfort, the soldiers could not coax him off of Koto's tattered sleeve. The poor cub hardly knew any of them, and was much too upset to cooperate.

Master Xue had heard the alarm rise and, within moments, had hurried over to see what had occurred at his employer's homestead. Like everyone else, he was nothing short of horrified. His heart welled with sympathy and, when he tried to lend a wing into coaxing Shifu away, the goose suddenly became the center of the universe and found the sobbing cub clinging to the robes of his tunic like his life depended on it.

But what else could Shifu do? He'd just seen his father murdered, his home destroyed, and his teacher's was the only live and familiar face he had to go to in this nightmarish hour. It was something he'd never have done in the past, but at that moment, Shifu's childish vulnerability had hit him hard. Xue seemed a little taken aback at first, but the affection for the boy that he had otherwise hidden soon took over. He draped a wing over the shaken cub as Shifu forced himself to watch two palace geese approach his father.

They carefully lifted Koto's lifeless body onto a stretcher. It was when they draped a sheet over him that it just became too much for his son. Shifu resumed to clutch his tutor's robes in his little fists and hide his face in them. The palace geese lifted the stretcher and carried the fallen captain off to prepare him for an honorable burial.

After a few minutes, the Sword had been taken away to be cleaned. Part of Master Xue's robe was damp with tears. Shifu was not much more than a ball of fluff, still clinging to the old gray goose, sniffling, and now hiccupping a bit.

Once the boy had calmed down some, another palace goose – one of Koto's personal assistants – approached them and looked down at Shifu. "Gather your belongings, little master," he gave a small smile. "We must be off to the Jade Palace."

The aging kung fu master opened his eyes to stare at the flickering flames surrounding his father's bamboo reed. It hadn't even so much as passed through his mind that fateful night – or any other day of his cubhood, for that matter – that he'd grow up in the Jade Palace and become the heir of the founder of kung fu. Him, the Grand Kung Fu Master… It still boggled that puerile corner of Shifu's mind that had nearly tucked itself away into nonexistence.

He stood long enough to approach the flute. Humbly bowing his head to the painting of his father, he took up the old reed into his paws and once more sat down on the ground. Lifting the reed to his lips, he began to play a slow, silvery melody.

He'd always played the same song every year on this night as a memorial to his father. It was a tune Koto had played many times himself. The unuttered lyrics spoke of the changes in life being like the changing of seasons – that it came with its own storms and winds and good harvests. Sometimes the changes were abrupt, and sometimes they were gradual.

For Shifu, the seasons had come and gone many times and with all manner of changes. As a small cub, he'd always thought he'd carry on his father's work as a military officer. Had Koto not been killed at the time he did, Shifu might've been leading the Chinese army by now. But Oogway had helped him realize, early on, that his talent and passion lay in teaching those younger than him.

And still, there had been so much that could've happened, so many paths that Shifu's life could've wandered down in that one night. What if Raidon had succeeded in stealing him from his father's arms? Koto still would've died from the lingering of Kuai's poison, but also the lingering of terrible dread and fear for his son. And Shifu would've most likely been a heartless warrior with the blood of a thousand innocents on his hands by now… That is, if he had been kept alive.

Or what if Koto had, in the attempt to save his son from death, accepted the medallion and joined the Alliance? Shifu still would've been taken to live at the Palace, but would've never been allowed to see his father again and would've been forced to live every day wondering if he was dead or alive. And God only knows what Koto would've been forced to do up until he perished by sword or the decay of time.

But life, with its nefarious nature of constant twists and transfigurations, had brought him here of all places. He was practically thrust into adulthood that night he was first led to the Palace. The damask sunset had given way to a crisp, clear, star-lavished sky and the harvest moon nearly engulfed the eastern horizon with a pearly and steady glow.

Young Shifu hardly noticed its splendor that night. For all he knew, his world had all been pulled out from under him like a rug. Here he was, traveling with two geese he'd never met before – one walking in front of him and one behind him – and walking on ground he'd only seen from thousands of feet below. His little legs struggled to conquer the seemingly never-ending steps. Shifu couldn't forget climbing those things for the first time and wondering how in the world his dad could've stood climbing them every day. He couldn't forget looking up and seeing the Jade Palace towering over him like a gilded giant from one of Master Xue's stories.

But, more than anything from that walk, Shifu couldn't forget the chill of hearing the distant and haunting howls of two wolves resounding off the mountains – Lang and Gou's dark song of triumph. Just the mere sound of them pressed the cub on to climb the rest of the stairs just as fast as he could.

Koto had always told his assistants that if anything was to happen to him, they were to take young Shifu to the Jade Palace, where it was promised he'd be cared for.

And so it happened that Shifu first came into Oogway's training at the tender age of six.

TBC…

Whooo!! Please review, ppl! BTW, if you haven't seen my drawings of my characters from this fic, check out my DeviantArt page! There's a link to it on my user page.

Ma mi – "Mommy"

Kwoon – "training hall"

Benjirou (Japanese) – "son of two speeches"

Taplo (Central Asian) – "sweet and good like honey"

Lin-Lin – "beauty of a tinkling bell"

Xue – "studious"