Taste V - Mitsui: Balance Revisited

    “Just hold the rope, that is all I am asking,” Mitsui asked, irritated.  She could not see why this was such a problem.
    “No,” The Captain insisted.  “This is much too dangerous.  If I let you--”
    “Let me?  Let me?”  Mitsui’s eyebrows rose threateningly.  “How do you think you are going to stop me?”
    “I--” The Captain stopped and took a deep breath.

    This girl is getting much too comfortable here.

    “Please, you know I am responsible for your safety,” he tried.  “If anything should happen to you, Sung would--”
    “Look,” she cut him off.  “If anything happens, the rope will catch me and you will catch the rope.  That is all you have to do; what is the problem?” she asked for what seemed to be the tenth time.  “I have been walking that beam for more than a week without slipping once--and not just walking,” she told him.  “Punching, kicking--running, even!  Watch--”
    Not even stopping to take a breath, Mitsui sprinted across the deck to the beam and leaped into a forward flip and landed flat-footed on top of it.  And, she did not stop there.  Barely stopping for balance, she sprinted again, this time straight down the beam, launching another forward flip off the end.
    Straightening from her crouch, she looked back over her shoulder at The Captain with a raised eyebrow.  Hardly looking, she stepped backwards onto the beam and reverse quick-stepped all the way back to the other end.
    At the end of the beam, she bowed deep, her back to The Captain.  Then, she spun slowly on the balls of her feet until she was facing him, still holding the bow.  Then she stood and lightly stepped off the beam.  The Captain, suppressing a smile, had no choice but to return her bow.
    “So,” she asked, walking over to him.  “What is so different about doing that--” she pointed back at the beam.  “--there?” she asked, pointing at the railing on the side of the ship.
    The Captain turned and looked at the railing.  He sighed and tried again, “Mitsui--”
    “Never mind,” she snapped.  “Give me the rope,” not waiting, she snatched the coiled rope from his hands.  Stomping to the nearest mast, she tied the rope off securely.  Striding back to the rail, she played out the rope and, giving herself a few feet of slack, tied it snugly around her waist.
“Mitsui . . .”