Removed – Chapter 20

I spend all morning watching tattoo parlors in Ku 6. After about three hours of studying the data, I determine that one parlor belongs to Minamoto’s clan, the other is strictly Taira. From what I can tell, Taira and Minamoto never mix. They go to different theaters. Eat in different restaurants. Buy different gifts. Get different tattoos. The men who work for one do not socialize with the men from the other clans. Their wives ignore each other on the streets. There are only two okiya in Ku 6, and the owners are careful to schedule each client so neither clan has to cross paths with another. It’s strange to me now that Matsuda would fraternize with both clans.

The Taira tattoo shop’s surveillance camera has an excellent view through the front window. Though most of the stations are hidden behind screens, many of the men loiter around the shop during the day. Men and women alike come and go and get tattoos at this shop. The Taira love animal motifs. The family kamon is an elaborate butterfly viewed from the side perched on a branch, and it seems to be incorporated into just about every design that comes out of this shop.

Sakai meets me for lunch and escorts me straight to the dōjō afterwards. A flash of movement catches my eye in Matsuda’s regular spot, but that’s about it. He probably saw us coming.

When we walk in the door, Jiro and Koichi are waiting for us. The sight of Jiro makes my heart stop, and I am incapable of saying anything, especially with Sakai and Koichi in the room.

Koichi grabs his bag by the wall and walking towards us. “I made all the necessary calls, Mark. They’ll be waiting for us.”

“Let’s go.” Sakai turns to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Remember what I said about going out in Ku 6. We’ll be back later.”

The mats beneath my feet sink as Jiro walks up next to me, and the door shuts on Sakai and Koichi. He takes my face in his hands, and it’s that time in between breaths I realize how intense we can be.

“Sanaa, I want to kiss you.”

I’m dying to kiss him. I merely close my eyes and nod my head, and his lips and mine are together. He starts slowly, kissing along the small, upper divot that’s the crown to all of my smiles, and then moving on to my lower lip before we open our mouths to each other and lean into it. When we break apart, I wrap my arms around him. He hugs me, holding the back of my head in his hands, and brings his forehead down on my shoulder.

“I’m so glad last night was not just a dream,” he says into my neck. Moving his hands from my hair, he pulls down the collar of my shirt and traces the line of my shoulder to my undershirt and back. “I wasn’t sure what you’d say when you saw me today.”

“Well, it’s hard to say anything right now. My heart may explode.” If he were a different person, this sort of statement would scare him away, but not Jiro. He revels in the fact I’m forward and tell him what I want. He’s the bravest person I’ve ever met.

He pulls back, pressing his forehead against mine.

“They will always be watching us,” he whispers, moving his mouth as little as possible.

“I know.” I nod. “I don’t care. Mark saw everything last night already.” I’m sick of the cameras. Let them watch. It’s just the Itōs anyway.

“Good. I’m glad you don’t care because neither do I.”

Rising to my tip toes, I drape my arms around his neck and stroke the bridge of my nose along his jaw before kissing him on the neck. I hear him say, “Mmmm,” and his arms hold me even closer. I have almost forgotten all the fear, all the secrets and lies, of the last few days. Maybe if we keep kissing, keep being close to each other, it will all go away.

“Sit here with me for a while.” He moves to sit on the mats and pulls me down. I don’t want to be far away from him, so I look him in the eyes, and sit on his lap wrapping my legs around him. His hands are on my hips and this time it’s my turn to hold his face and direct him. I love that I can follow or lead with little hesitation. It’s so different from my past two relationships where I was expected to be the small and quiet girl and couldn’t, though I did try.

He takes my hand in his and rubs his thumb along the callus that’s formed on my thumb from all of our hours practicing iaido together.

“In the beginning, when you first came here, I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to train you — that you weren’t capable — and neither was I of being a teacher. But you’ve become strong.” He tips up my hands and shows them to me. “I see it here.”

They aren’t the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen, and I’ve always thought them plain and ordinary. They are strong now from many hours of holding a sword properly: hands together, right over left, wrists turned in. I have mastered the light grip but my ring finger on my left hand is constantly sore.

It’s that ring finger Jiro holds now. He smiles as he massages it from the tip down to the palm, and I sigh with relief.

“That finger always hurt me too when I was beginning. It’ll get better with time.”

“Are we going to practice?” I ask as I reach up and start to unbutton my shirt. This room is so warm, and now I’m burning up, though not from exercise.

I remove my shirt and toss it off the mats changing position to sit seiza in front of Jiro. He sits seiza too, facing me but next to me. Yin and yang. With our eyes closed, we meditate and breathe deep, and I’m calm again. When I open my eyes, Jiro is watching me.

“I’ve been thinking about getting tattooed,” I say. It’s been in the back of my mind all day after surveying the tattoo parlors this morning.

“Really? Why would you?”

I think about the other women I watched in the shop. They are so sure of themselves, confident.

“I love yours. I don’t have a family crest, but the images of Old Japan make me nostalgic.”

“Then I’ll take you to our family parlor whenever you’re ready.” His smile dips to the side, measuring my enthusiasm. “We should get to work. I doubt my father and Sakai will stay out for very long.” He stands and helps me up, but instead of letting go, he pulls me close again. “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

“Yes, absolutely.” I would spend every waking moment with him if I could. Jiro walks to the wall, takes off his shirt, and grabs our swords.

“I know I’ve been hard on you in practice lately,” he says, and I scowl at him. “I’m sorry. Surely now the necessity of it is obvious. Matsuda’s a trained killer, and for some reason, he doesn’t like you. I want to make sure you’re prepared… for anything.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re only doing your job.”

“It’s more than my job. I hope you know that.”

“I know, Jiro. Teach me. I want you to.” And I hope he realizes that I want him to teach me more than sword fighting. I tilt my head and raise my eyebrows a little. The way his breath comes out slowly, I have him in the palm of my hand.

Today, we’re going to learn more offensive sword fighting. Jiro has been talking a lot about mindset, but all I’ve been doing is defense. Defense is good, offense is better. The past few days have taught me I’m going to need it. I keep worrying about striking Jiro and hurting him, though. It’s why we haven’t sparred since that first time. Thinking back, I smile and shake my head.

“What are you thinking about? Or do I even want to know right now?” He must think my mind is in the gutter all the time the way I flirt with him. He’s mostly right.

“I was thinking about the first time we ever sparred. What an ass I was.” Though it’s totally embarrassing to think about now, it still makes me laugh.

“Are you kidding me? You’re the first person who has ever caught me off-guard. I think, in the future, you should use your size and, well, kawaii nature to your advantage. I underestimated you and regretted it,” he says with a smile. “I like the way you fight. It’s fresh and different.”

“Really? I thought I was horrible.” I lean over to roll up my pants, and my hair comes out of its twist. All of the kissing earlier has made it come undone. “Hold on, please.” I let out a sigh. “I have to get my hair cut.”

“Don’t,” he says, and, when I stand up, he’s watching me tie it back again. “It suits you.” I’ve done this so many times in front of Sakai and now Jiro, I realize Sakai watches me because I look like my mother. Jiro watches me because he wants me. I feel very popular all of a sudden.

He hands me my sword and steps back.

“We’ll do this a little differently this time. Instead of me attacking you using the techniques we’ve already learned, we’ll move in slow motion. This way we’ll practice attack and defense slowly and quicken the pace as you become more comfortable.”

I break into a cold sweat.

“Sanaa, take a deep breath. I can already tell you’re getting worked up.”

I’m also completely transparent.

He laughs, reaches out, and pokes me in the stomach.

“Come on. I’ve taught six year olds who were more aggressive than you.” What a tease! Instead of being solemn and professional, he’s going to mercilessly pester me. It’s going to work. “I know how much you hate to lose…”

“You wouldn’t beat me, would you?”

He laughs and lunges at me from the right.

After weeks and weeks of fighting with Jiro, he has worn me down, worn away my fear of hurting him, worn away my worry of having to defend myself. He’s made me strong in a way I never thought I could be. Even all of those years of karate training have not brought me a tenth of the confidence sword fighting has.

Jiro slows down and circles me to the right, keeping his eyes on me. When he’s ready, he nods his head left or right, indicating which way he will come at me. After an hour of this, though, the maniacal glint is in his eye again, so I attack first, faster and faster. I’m having so much fun I’m actually laughing as he blocks each of my movements, especially when I get close to getting a hit on him.

The fighting mania is building up between us, and it’s starting to bring up the exhausted giggles in me.

“Stop.” I laugh and wheeze, throwing myself down to the mats in exhaustion. “I can’t take much more of this.”

But Jiro is not done. Moving to the other side of the room, he bounces on his toes and actually runs at me from the front. I roll over in time for his feet to leave the ground, jumping in a high arc toward me, sword above his head. He is at once awe-inspiring and fearsome. The corners of his mouth curl up, no doubt due to the wide-eyed panic coming over me.

Scrambling backward, I lie flat on the ground and bring my sword up to block him. With a thump, his feet land on either side of my head but our swords never touch. He has come to a halt a millimeter away from me.

I can barely breathe witnessing the determination in his eyes, the way his body heaves with every breath. Wow, he’s impressive.

“Who taught you how to fight like that?”

“You should see your face right now,” he says, straightening up with a shake of his head. “You could learn to fight like this, too.”

I try to imagine myself fighting like Jiro, and I can’t. He was born to do this. I’m struggling to keep up. I’m so glad he’s on my side. I’ve only skimmed the surface of what he’s capable of. If he were my enemy, I should be terrified.

“I think we’re done. It’s almost five,” he says.

I push the sword away from me and come up to seiza. Moving into meditation is hard considering I’ve been laughing, but Jiro’s steady breathing brings me back.

He grabs two towels for us, and as we’re drying off, Sakai and Koichi enter the room. They kick off their shoes at the edge of the mat and set them aside.

“Sanaa, we may have a problem we have to deal with.”

My heart immediately seizes. What is this? Jiro is puzzled, his eyebrows drawing together, but he stays silent. Sakai comes right to me.

“Your aunt has been following you around all day.”

My heart beats again but sinks to my stomach. Oh no…

“She wasn’t at home this morning when I got up. Damn, I should have known. She hates being up early.”

“She was probably waiting for you to leave the apartment and then followed you to the dōjō.”

“Did she follow us to Ku 1 and here?”

“Yes, I caught sight of her as we were entering just now. I’m sure she suspects something is going on with you.” Sakai and Koichi contemplate each other but don’t speak. They know Aunt Kimie. She is persistent, just like me.

“Come to think of it, she may have been suspicious awhile back. She said she came by work to have lunch with me, but I wasn’t there. I told her I was working off site. I guess she didn’t believe me.”

“You have got to get better at lying. You have tells all over your face.”

Shit. I thought I was getting better at it.

“A terrible poker player,” Koichi says.

“You will need to ditch Kimie on your way home,” Sakai says, bringing his hand to his chin.

“Jiro and I are going to have dinner together,” I say, as I put my shirt back on and button it up.

“You can still do that. Leave at different times. Go in opposite directions. Sanaa, walk fast and take the train. Switch cars multiple times and backtrack. Make it last at least thirty minutes before you pick up your way to wherever you plan on going.”

I nod and map out the transitway system in my head. It’s about to be rush hour. I can lose Aunt Kimie quickly.

“Jiro, from now on, when you accompany Sanaa anywhere in Ku 6, you will carry your sword.”

“Understood.” Jiro’s face tightens, and he reaches for his shirt.

Sakai turns to me. I push my nervous tension way to the back of my mind and try to concentrate. “Message me when you get where you’re going. I’ll tail Kimie until I’m sure she’s lost you.”

I grab my bag and pull Sakai towards the door.

“Mark, where were you now? With Koichi?”

“Sanaa, I’m not prepared to discuss business with you right now.”

“Business? I know it involves me somehow and you keeping me in the dark is pissing me off.”

He stops, but doesn’t say anything.

Nothing. I’m getting absolutely nowhere with him. Sakai! You are so frustrating!

“Mark.” I put more urgency, as much as I can, into my voice. “These last twenty-four hours… you’re really scaring me… with Matsuda, and Jiro being armed, and now Aunt Kimie is following me, too? I can’t help but think about what happened to my parents and…”

Sakai sighs deeply, and his head dips low. It’s such an instinctual Japanese gesture to bow when we’re upset, embarrassed, apologetic, or humbled. It’s also used to cover up our feelings when we don’t want another to read the emotions scattered across our face.

“It wasn’t an accident that killed my parents.” This is it. I’m sure of it. This is why he refuses to talk to me.

He is not looking up.

“Mark. Look at me!” I yell so forcefully both Jiro and Koichi at the back of the dōjō stop dead in their tracks.

Sakai still does not move. “I’m so sorry, Sanaa. So sorry.”

My body springs forward of its own accord, and I push Sakai so hard he stumbles back and hits the wall. “How can you just stand there and apologize to me without even talking to me? Don’t you have any respect for me at all?”

My hand comes back, a blind rage overcoming me, and I’m moments from smacking him across the face when Jiro grabs me from behind and lifts me from the mats. My feet get no purchase, and I kick and scream, bucking my body back against Jiro who is trying hard to hold on to me.

“Sanaa, please,” Jiro pleads as he quickly carries me to the other side of the room, as far from Sakai as we can possibly get. “Please stop.”

He doesn’t have to beg me. I’m already sobbing, the fat tears bursting from my eyes and landing on the mats in front of us. I let my body go limp, and Jiro’s restrictive hold loosens and becomes a hug as he lets me fall slowly to the floor.

“Oh, Mark, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Now I’m the one who can’t look at him. Why did I have to hit him? Resting my head on my arms, I cry into my sleeves. Jiro kneels down next to me and places one hand on my back. “I’m sorry,” I repeat. This time to everyone.

“Don’t be sorry.” Sakai’s voice is very far away. “I deserve that. I deserve a lot more than that.”

Pulling my head up from the mat, I swipe my hand across my face and then my sleeve too because I’m a fountain of tears and snot and sweat. Sakai has not moved from where I pushed him. Koichi has turned from me and faces the wall. I have done something so harmful, it’s unspeakable.

“Don’t hate me. I promised…” Sakai’s voice catches and he stops, straightening up a little more. “I promised your mother I would take care of you. And that’s exactly what I’m doing.” Without saying another word, he turns and walks out.

At least ten seconds of complete silence pass before I sniff, my breath shuddering in my chest and throat. I can’t even look at Jiro, but then his fingers are on my neck, pushing my hair off and to the side.

“Let’s stick to the plan. Come.” Jiro gives me his hand and pulls me up. He grabs a fresh towel from the rack, leads me back to the door, and places the towel in my hands. “Go to the bathroom and get cleaned up. When you’re ready, leave and circle out to Ku 3, then 1, and then come back.”

I nod silently and sniff. I must look terrible. Jiro smiles at me and places his hand on my shoulder. He leans in and kisses me on the forehead, and I close my eyes and concentrate on that spot before heading to the bathroom.