"Right you are. I exhort them, day in and day out, but with so many students, there's always a few ... All of you heed my words. Should your ball fly over that fence, you're to circle round to the front and announce yourselves before retrieving it. Is that clear? ... It's a big school. Try as we might, we can't always be minding all our charges. And with physical fitness an essential part of the curriculum, we can't well hold them indoors. This game, provided we let it continue, will no doubt disturb your peace. I ask in advance for your understanding. For my part, I can offer my assurance that from here on they'll only come for their ball through the front gate, and only after announcing themselves."
"Your assurance will suffice. Let them play ball as they like. As long as they come round front and announce themselves, I'll not object. I entrust these students to your good care. You're free to lead them back to their own grounds. It's a shame this had to involve you." The master, as ever and always, engages with a roar and ends with a whimper. The ethics instructor, his Tanba monkeys in tow, withdraws to Rakuunkan. What I refered to as the major altercation has at this point, for the time being, run its course. Some may scoff at my billing of this as a major altercation. Let them scoff. The gravity of said altercation is not theirs to decide. In the master's eyes, this constituted an altercation of grand proportion, and accordingly I've described it thus. What it means or doesn't mean to others is beside the point. The fact that it fizzled, like a swift arrow shot from a strong bow that slows to a harmless stop, is valid critique. One must remember, however, that such is the master's nature. Bear in mind too, that it's this very nature that makes the man so comical. Some may argue that a grown man chasing down and seizing a young lad of no more than fifteen is asinine. I don't disagree. As Ōmachi Keigetsu would put it, the master himself, in spite of his years, has yet to progress from child to man.