Shen gazed out across the city skyline. He regretted it; his memories of the shoreline, walking with Sensei, always intruded on such events. They would visit the beach and contemplate reality together. But those days were a year gone, and Shen had acclimated himself to a far different reality. Still...gazing out at the horizon gave him a distinct feeling of reminiscence of those days. He scoffed at himself as he remembered carrying 40lb weights in each arm, trying desperately to maintain the Crane Stance on any given one of the wooden stumps which lined the piers. Sensei was with him still, despite his death over a year ago.

When he looked into his mirror, he felt the distinct impression that there should have been one less man staring back at him, but Shen had "always been Shen". It was odd, the sort of mental gymnastics he had to complete in order to forget his previous life. In times of self-doubt, he always had Sensei to turn to. He remembered proverbs, exercises and thought experiments, but never those six years during which he could not produce any tangible memories. He often entertained himself with the idea that those years were not worth remembering, as Sensei had given him his life in return.

Still, Shen's expression was forlorn in the picture window which faced west in his pretentious apartment. Why [i]had[/i] he settled here, when the alleys and back-streets had always been good enough for his training in years past? He allowed himself to believe that Sensei would have wanted it; that he somehow would have predicted this paradise for him. But it was a comfortable lie.

Shen decided on some meditative kata before he would allow himself to be seen again. His students would expect him to show up on-time, after all. Even if they were Hollywood cream-puffs, they deserved every bit the same respect Sensei had shown him.

[i]"Sensei,"[/i] Shen mused. [i]"What have you left me to do?[/i]