"Tsibi!" someone calls across the square, but no one responds.

"Tsibi!" the voice rings out again, but once more, no one moves or answers.

"Tsibi!"

Damn it! Why do you have to be so loud when I'm trying to concentrate? Of course, I learned at the Organization to focus on my task in any situation, but that doesn't mean I don't like peace and quiet. Quite the contrary. I prefer silence, especially when I can share it with my sister. Although the latter won't be possible until I find her. I turn my attention back to the books and documents on the table in front of me, which contain all the important information about the city where the boy's family lives, as well as about the country, the continent, and the world as a whole. After all, the search for my sister will be easier if I learn more about where I am or where I can look for her. Suppose she even is in this world. If not, I will have to find ways to continue my search for her in other worlds without the Organization noticing my travels between different worlds.

"Tsibi!"

But apparently, I'm not going to get the peace and quiet I want, because this Tsibi person doesn't seem to want to be found. Suddenly, it dawns on me. Sighing, I lean back in my chair as far as it will go without tipping over. Tsibi. That's me. Tsibi is the name the boy's family gave me because of my appearance when we first met. Apparently, Tsibi was the name of the goddess of fire in an advanced civilization that is said to have ruled large parts of the continent long ago. Anyway, even after living with them for almost a week and learning about their world, I still haven't gotten used to the name. But perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I haven't gotten used to the fact that I have a name at all. At least one that really belongs to me and isn't used in a derogatory way, as was so often the case with Fire Cat at the Organization.

"Tsibi!"

Okay, enough of that. The boy's father doesn't seem to be giving up until he finds me. What was his name again? Yetse? Yise? Ah, no. It was Yize. Using names is one of the strange quirks of life outside the Organization that I still have to get used to. But apparently, names are very important to others. Not that I really understand it. Are names really that significant? After all, we are always ourselves, regardless of what we are called. We are not our names, and our names do not determine who we are. Although I can't deny that it's better to be called Tsibi than Fire Cat.

I take one last look at the documents and books so I can remember exactly where I left off. Then I get up and head for the study door.

"I'm coming," I reply before the man can call me again.

As soon as my feet cross the threshold, he stands in front of me, beaming with joy.

"Ah, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you, Tsibi!"

"I noticed that. And probably the rest of the city too," I reply dryly.

"Um, well. If you had answered me earlier, I wouldn't have had to call you so much."

I guess I can't argue against that.

"What is it that you are looking for me so urgently?" I ask him.

"Ah, yes. I was just talking to Min, and we decided it would be nice if you could teach some of the students a little bit of your martial arts. Since that would also bring you into contact with the others, you would benefit from it as well."

"And you had to make such a racket to tell me that?"

"Well, it was a spontaneous decision. And lunch break will be over soon, and the first students will be getting ready for training," he replies.

"Why should I do that? Apart from anything else, you know very well that my fighting style is different from yours. Even though you teach fighting and self-defense, my style is tailored to me and designed purely for killing."

In the days I've spent here, I've talked to them about things like my martial arts, which I can't hide. I've never been able to interpret the looks and reactions they've given me every time. Nevertheless, I've been careful to tell only as much as necessary and haven't mentioned the Organization with a single word.

"But the basics should be the same, shouldn’t they? How to punch or how to kick. Or simply exercises for mobility and strength. I'm sure it will make you more approachable to the other students and, above all, will allow you to continue practicing how to teach others and interact with people. Didn't you say yourself that it would help you in your search?"

It annoys me that I can't argue with him once again.

"I'm not entirely sure that the training I've undergone would be suitable for your students. But if I have to. However, you should know that I show no mercy in training. After all, your opponent in a life-and-death fight won't show any either. And our training is supposed to prepare us for real-life situations."

An expression that I still can't interpret spreads across his face.

"Tsibi, our training isn't just meant to teach our students how to fight. It's meant to teach them much more than that. But you'll learn that in time, and I don't want to put any pressure on you. And don't worry. If it's okay with you, I'll accompany you during the training session and make sure you don't demand too much of them. Even though the students can certainly handle a little rougher treatment, which is why we intended for you to train a more advanced group in the first place."

"Do what you have to do," I reply, ignoring the rest of his comments.