Blurugirl
Star
- Joined
- Oct 25, 2019
Her name was Bozi.
That wasn't her real name, of course. They had been calling her that since the day she showed up at the martial arts center, eleven years ago, when she was just this skinny seven year old. The old master who had founded and ran the martial arts center more than five decades ago might know her real name (even martial arts centers have to keep records), but nobody else did.
Everyone else called her Bozi, at least to her face.
They called her different things as the years passed. At first it was runt and kid. As in "Your in the way, runt" or "Get out of here, kid." But Bozi wasn't going anywhere. She wanted to learn martial arts. So the martial arts center's founder gave her odd jobs and errands to run, in exchange for a uniform, lessons and a morning meal (when it looked like whoever was in charge of Bozi at home hadn't fed her that morning).
Bozi learned quickly.
Skip eleven years into the future. At eighteen, Bozi was the best fighter in the martial arts center. Some would even say that she was better than the Old Master himself. This could never be proven, of course, since the Old Master would never lift a finger against his surrogate granddaughter, and Bozi would have beat someone senseless for even suggesting a fight between her and the Old Master. Bozi held the Old Master in high esteem, and was convinced it was an illusion to think such an enlightened individual like the Old Master ever touched the ground when he walked.
The Old Master was probably the only man on the planet that Bozi held any adoration for, however.
Bozi had been blossoming as a fighter almost since the day she walked into the martial arts center. At sixteen, however, she began blossoming as a woman. The lean fighter's form began filling out, and her long, waist length hair only served to frame and accentuate her large bosom, narrow waist, slender legs and firm bottom.
More than a few male students noticed. A few of the more experienced fighters even attempted to use sparring and grappling matches to explore these new developments. Bozi's response was always immediate and devastating when anyone made these attempts. So no one made them anymore.
And this is when Bozi got a few more nicknames. The one that seemed to stick was SubZero, after the video game character. This fit Bozi's fighting style, and the cold way she accumulated victories, both in practice and at tournaments. And she got this reputation during the few dates she ever went on.
Truthfully, this wasn't her fault. At tournaments, she was driven to prove the Old Master was right to take her under his wing. In a way, she was fighting for his honor, not hers, and she held nothing back when she fought. On dates, Bozi...well, Bozi knew fighting. She didn't know dating. She didn't have burning embers inside her that were just waiting to be flamed, as all of her dates seemed to think. So they invariably moved too fast, and were rebuffed. And not always politely.
Not dating didn't bother Bozi. She had school. And she had her fighting. She wasn't a very good teacher, partially because a lot of her male students were distracted by her appearance. She taught an evening self-defense class for women, however, that was VERY popular in the community for its effectiveness. And occasionally, she would do private tutoring for an older student, male or female, who was struggling in the lower level classes. Bozi had a soft spot for the geeky, gangly students, as it reminded her of herself when she was a kid.
Which is where our story starts. Bozi had just finished tutoring one such student and, after the session, was rolling her shoulders. "Long weekend," she said with a laugh. "Tri-state tournament, and I probably entered too many events. And then I did TWO special seminars for the Self-Defense Class last night. I should probably take a few days off," she added with a grin.