Removed – Chapter 21

It takes me ten minutes to recompose myself in the dōjō bathroom. For a dōjō so austere and simple, the bathroom must have been designed and built by the Itōs long after they took ownership of this building. Dark stone tiles, softly lit rice paper lanterns, and white porcelain greet me when I walk in. I strip down naked wrapping the towel around me and place all of my clothes in the auto-hamper. They’ll be clean and dry in five minutes.

While I wait, I splash water on my face, wash it and my hands, then finger-comb my hair. It’s a mess again. I separate it down the center and do two twists, one on either side of my head, glad I keep extra ties in my bag. I quickly wipe myself off and eye the shower in the corner. No time to use it today.

The auto-hamper pings with a hiss of steam, and my clothes come out hot and dry. I put them on after shaking them a few times to cool them off. Before I exit the building, I knock on the dōjō door, and Jiro is sitting against the wall with his tablet.

“Be careful, Sanaa. I’ll see you back here soon.”

I don’t want to leave him and walk around the city for half an hour while trying to ditch my aunt, but I have to.

The trains are packed with people but moving quickly this evening. I don’t notice any signs of Aunt Kimie, so I do a quick tour of Ku 3 and Ku 1, then head straight for the dōjō. When I get to the storefront, Jiro steps out. I’ve never seen him carrying his sword in person, and if I thought he was handsome and sexy before I saw him armed, I’m dead gone now.

He steps forward and pulls me towards the door alcove, directing me to the corner.

“I… what?”

Moving slowly to the threshold of the sidewalk, he pokes his head out and surveys the area. It’s only about six o’clock, and plenty of people are still on the streets, but it’s March, and the light is waning already at this time of the day.

“Is anyone there?” I whisper.

“No. Matsuda left right after you and went in the opposite direction. I think you lost both him and your aunt in one go.”

He turns to face me, and I rise up to my tip-toes so I can get a better look over his shoulder. My right hand clutches his shirt front. I pull him closer and reach up with my left to lightly caress the grip. It’s beautiful.

“This is your sword? Your very own?”

He reaches down and loosens my hand from his shirt, lacing his fingers with mine. When I look at him, he’s examining me closely.

“You’re not frightened by this at all?”

“Frightened? No no no. Quite the opposite,” I say, shaking my head. I release my left hand from the sword and run my fingers through his hair at the back of his head. It’s damp, but he smells like soap again. He got to shower while I was running around.

“I want my own. I have to have one.”

Relief sweeps over his face, and his hand tightens with mine. “I felt the same way the day I saw my father carrying his. I wanted one right away, and I would do anything to get it. You and I are much more similar than I ever thought.”

“I don’t know how I’ll ever get one.” I fear this is going to be one of my new obsessions. Getting a sword will be harder than the other obsession building since yesterday, persuading Jiro to sleep with me. The way we’re pressed against one another right now, I give us twenty-four hours.

“Maybe your family has one or Sakai has one for you.”

Sakai. I rest my forehead on Jiro’s chest.

“Sorry,” he says, hugging me. “I had almost forgotten about what happened today.”

“It’s okay. Let’s go eat before we pass out from hunger. You’re going to love this tempura place.”

We leave the front of the Itō dōjō and cross the street. Weaving in and out of a few old men and women shopping for fruits and vegetables at the grocery, he leads me down a back alley to the next street over. We stick close to the buildings, sidling around neatly stacked crates and garbage cans, staying in shadows and walking alleyways. Jiro stops me across the street from our destination. Pressed into the doorway of a closed business, we watch the restaurant for a minute before crossing over to it. He is so cautious. I wonder how often he does this sort of thing.

When we enter, he waves to a young man who is clearing a table, heading straight for an open booth in the corner. I sit on the inside with him next to me, and his sword is now propped next to his leg under the table. No one in the restaurant batted an eye at it.

I love this place already, small and cozy, painted in warm tones with low ambient lighting. One bank of tables line the front window. Booths are along the back wall, set apart from each other with tall seat backs and latticework above our heads. The dinner crowd is happy but not too loud.

He takes my bag and sets it next to his on the opposite side of the table.

“Oh, grab my tablet, please.” He hands it to me, and I type out the message to Sakai that he asked for. Upon checking my inbox though, I find a message from him I read to Jiro: “Kimie watched you exit the building and went immediately back to Ku 9 from there.”

My chest constricts at the thought of confronting her with all I’ve been up to, and my hands shake. I attempt to cover up the movement by clutching the tablet, but Jiro sees it. He removes the tablet from my hands and places it on the opposite side of the table.

“You’re hungry. Let me order some food.” He gestures to a young waitress across the room. “Asa!”

She comes over quickly. “Jiro, it’s been a long time. How are you?”

Jiro said he had been here before and something tells me it’s been often.

“You know me, Asa, always good. We’ll have the vegetable tempura for two with rice and saké.”

Asa’s face falls slightly at the sight of me. Jiro not bothering to indulge her grand hospitality is perfect. The jealous dragon in my chest sits down defiantly. He’s mine. Back off.

“Water, too,” I say, smiling slightly at her. I need water. I’m parched from today’s workout.

Asa leaves, and I start thinking about food and my grumbling stomach.

“Mmmm, I am starving. It feels like days since I last ate. Do you come here a lot? It seems like Asa knows who you are.” I immediately regret asking because I just gave away my jealousy.

“Yes, I come here all the time.” He smiles and turns towards me, still keeping his eyes on the door. I lean forward with my elbow on the table, chin propped up on my hand, and try to pretend like the catch in my voice was nothing. “Asa and I went to school together. This is her mother’s place. Like Miko, she’s planning to take over someday. I only ever see her here.” Reading between the lines, that’s my reassurance he’s not dating her and never has.

But now I’m thinking about other embarrassing things.

“Jiro,” I say, taking a hot wet towel left for us and rubbing down my hands one finger at a time, “I’m so sorry about today.” I fold the towel over and over again until Jiro takes it from me.

He’s not mad but serious instead. “If it were my choice, I would’ve let you beat the hell out of Sakai. He’s wrong to keep so many secrets from you. They’re all wrong to keep so many secrets from us.”

“Why did you stop me then?”

Jiro sighs and grabs my left hand, holding it in both of his. “Because he’s my uncle and the head of my house, and as much as he deserved it, we still need him.” He smiles at me and chuckles. “If I had let you hit him, he may not have been able to walk straight for a week.”

“I was worried you’d be mad at me.”

“You were intense. I love that you’re not some withering flower of a girl. You’re strong, vibrant… forward.” He takes my hand and rubs it along his jawline, a little stubble forming that’s rough but sexy. He releases my hand at the back of his neck, and I pull him to me and kiss him until two glasses of water land on the table and startle us both. I don’t even need to look to know it’s Asa.

I clear my throat and drink some water. I shouldn’t be kissing him in public, but I can’t help myself.

“I want to hear more about your sword.”

“My katana?”

“Yes. How did you even get one?”

“Most of the long-standing Japanese families have them. They’ve been handed down generation after generation. The katana I carry is over two thousand years old. It’s a gorgeous sword. I’d take it out now, but I like to keep a low profile. The metal used to make it was super thin and layered on, one on top of the other. If you look closely, you can see the tiniest swirls.”

I close my eyes and imagine it. The sword obviously means a lot to him.

“The first time I held it I knew it was meant for me. My family was lucky. We had to save it from being melted down after the Environmental Decline. But most things in the family treasury are sacred and can’t be touched. We have three family swords. My brother has refused to carry his sword in recent years, and my mother keeps it by her bed every night. My guess is she would give it up for you to practice with, if you wanted.”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely. I think I’m good enough, right?”

“You are indeed, though if we practice with real swords, we will only do kata. I don’t want any life threatening injuries.”

“Me neither.” The thought of marring our perfect sessions with blood is sickening.

A waiter comes by with our sake and deposits it and two cups. Jiro pours for us both, and we lift our cups and toast. I drain half in one go.

“So, I’m curious. What would you do if you held a real katana in your hand? Would you strike and kill to save your life?”

I have never killed anything, not even something small, like a bug. Earth is so barren there are hardly any in Nishikyō anyway.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly, shrugging.

“I don’t think it’s something you ever really know until it happens.”

I fill both our cups as the same waiter returns to the table with food. When I glance up and check the restaurant, it’s still bustling with people, and all the staff are busy. Jiro thanks him and ignores the steaming plates for a moment. He traces the bones on my hand, thinking.

“Jiro, how is it someone like you was so unattached by the time I came around?” He’s the most attractive guy I have ever seen, and it’s a wonder to me he doesn’t have anyone at all. I’m a little scared to be digging in Jiro’s love life, but since I’m determined to become a part of it, I figure I should know.

“No time for dating. I’m too busy training, going to meetings, handling correspondence…” He places his hand solidly upon mine. “I won’t lie to you, Sanaa. I’ve had my fair share of girls before now.” My heart seizes. “But none like you. None.”

The blush in my cheeks is so hot I break eye contact for a moment. I’m already in love with him. I wonder if he can tell.

“I should even tell you I… I proposed to my last girlfriend. I thought I wanted to marry her, but she was definitely the wrong choice for me.”

“Oh.” I suspected he’s had plenty of previous girlfriends but a proposal? I suddenly feel very inadequate. “You must have really loved her.” Sickness seizes me thinking about him with another woman, someone his whole family must have met. How will I ever measure up?

“I thought I did, but…” He picks up my hand and kisses it. “It’s not even close to how I feel about you.”

My vision darkens along the edges, I’m in such shock. To think he may love me more than someone he wanted to marry. And only a few days ago I was doubting everything.

“I… I want to be honest with you,” I start. “How do I even explain this? I’ve, uh, had two boyfriends.” I pull my hand away from him and cover up my eyes. “There was Joshua. He was the first person I ever had sex with. But he was a bit crazy?” I remove my hand, and Jiro has his eyes narrowed. “He was brilliant, incredibly smart, but mean.”

“Mean?” Jiro is getting upset, so I quicken my story.

“Our relationship didn’t last long because he… well, he found me unattractive, I think.” I have no clue how to explain Joshua’s actions. We would have these in-depth, philosophical and surreal conversations, be totally in sync with each other, then he would get me naked and lose all interest. It was degrading. To keep our relationship going, I would get him drunk, wear skirts, and have sex with my clothes on.

Remembering what I went through just to have a physical connection with him fills me with shame.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I pause and consider how truthful I should be. “It’s a long story. I mean, I knew he wasn’t into me when we were together, but then we broke up, and he started calling me…” I gulp and cover my face again. “Straight-Up-And-Down Sanaa to his new girlfriend. She spread it all over work. I was so enraged and embarrassed, I had him transferred.”

Jiro’s not saying anything, and I’m afraid to look up. His fist is clenched in his lap.

“I used my connections to have him placed somewhere else. I couldn’t even be in the same building with him anymore. My friend, Chad, felt bad for me, and we started dating. But it was more like sex once a month. He wasn’t into me either.”

A tear rolls from my eye, down my nose, and lands on the seat between us. “I like Chad as a friend, and we always got along. And look at me.” I pull my hand from my eyes and swipe the tears from my cheeks. “I’m built like a boy. I figured his attention was all I could ever hope for.”

The first time I had sex with him, I really enjoyed it. I described everything I loved, and he gave me an orgasm so hard, I nearly lost my mind. Afterward, he quietly slipped from the bed, dressed, and left me without a word. I told Miko what happened, and she said, “Sanaa, no guy wants to be told what to do in bed. You’re supposed to let them figure it out.” I was bossy, and I completely ruined it, so from then on, I was silent. Our sex became stiff and unenjoyable for me after that, and I was ashamed for being so forward with him. No passion, no love. He barely even kissed me when we were together. But he must have felt some sort of pity for me because he kept it up once a month.

“Gods, I’m so fucking embarrassed,” I blurt out and laugh at his wide eyes. “Sorry, I try not to swear, even in my head.”

“You can swear around me all you like. It’s killing me to hear this from you.” He leans into me and kisses my lips, wet with tears. When he pulls away, I take a napkin from the table and wipe up my face, eyeing our steaming dinner in front of us. My leg starts to bounce, and I pluck at the fabric of my pants over and over.

“I’m okay with myself now, really, but it doesn’t erase the doubts.”

“I’ve never given you any reason to doubt me, have I?” he asks, and I shake my head. No. “You think you’re built like a boy, but I see a sweet, petite, gorgeous girl with a smile that captured me from across the room. But best of all, you’re strong and confident. I’m completely baffled by this all. I don’t ever see you as being insecure.”

I’m only insecure about a few things, but I believe in myself and my abilities, and Jiro has never once seemed intimidated by me like Joshua or Chad have been. I think, despite how mortified I am, I chose the right guy this time around.

“Look at me, Sanaa.”

I let out a breath, and though I’m so embarrassed the back of my neck is starting to sweat, I force my eyes up from the space between us.

“All that matters is you and me. Just you and me. No one and nothing else, okay?” He nods at me, and I nod back, eager to leave this conversation behind us. “Let’s eat.”

I grab a bowl and spoon rice in for him and then another for myself. We divvy up the vegetable tempura between us and dig in. I concentrate on every grain of rice going into my mouth, trying not to think about the fact I just told my potential boyfriend all my humiliating secrets.

Change the conversation.

“I love the sweet potato. It’s my favorite,” I say, taking a bite.

“Mine too. You’ll have to fight me for it.”

Jiro finishes his first piece and reaches over to grab a fried lotus root.

“So…” He thinks for a moment. His eyes wander off into a space beyond me. “I’ve been thinking about what happened last night… what we overheard with Minamoto and Matsuda.” I sigh inwardly, happy he’s moved the conversation on. “I’ve heard the word ‘kiku’ a lot in the past few years though I’ve never known what they’re all talking about. Is it a person? A thing?” He quiets in thought again, staring at his tablet across the table. “I should do a search.”

“Minamoto said something like, ‘The kiku line was not destroyed.’ I thought he referring to a family line,” I say.

“I think you’re right.” He drums his fingers. “And I think it has something to do with you. I heard the word kiku mentioned several times in conversation, and two days later, you were in my dōjō, and I had to teach you sword fighting. Admittedly, one of the scariest tasks of my life until I was sure you could do it.”

I’ve finished my dinner and set the bowl aside. Picking up Jiro’s hands, I look him straight in the eye. “I want no secrets between us. I’m sick of secrets.”

“I want the same.”

He’s as prepared for the truth as I am, if I can ever get it.

“Mark has often told me I should have grown up in Ku 6. That it was wrong to keep me from there, from my people. It’s the way he says ‘my people’ that bothers me the most. He says I grew up removed from my culture, and it’s not something my mother would have wanted.”

“How does he know what your mother would have wanted?”

“I can only imagine she told him, and I wish I had proof instead of just his word. They’re all hiding a lot from me. I’m not sure what to believe.” Even though I’m holding on to Jiro’s hands mine begin to shake and grow cold, so he flips his hands over and holds mine tighter. “This morning, Mark said I’m in danger here in Ku 6, and with Matsuda following me, he must be right. But why? Why does Matsuda even care about me?”

Jiro shakes his head. “I understand little about what makes Matsuda tick. This is probably why Sakai has made such a big deal about the sword fighting lessons. He eventually wants you to be armed and able to protect yourself, and he has asked that I’m to protect you as well.”

“I’ve been kept away from Ku 6 my whole life. But if it’s not what my mother would have wanted, then why did her only sister go against her wishes?”

“They’ve kept you away for a purpose. But why?” He shakes his head. “I’m not sure, and it’s worrying.”

The lights in Ku 6 are low as we exit the restaurant, the streets thinning out with people heading home from work or dinner out with their families. Two blocks over, the high-pitched electronic sounds of a pachinko parlor and men drinking on the sidewalk are harsh and raucous. I startle, paranoia overcoming my fatigue.

Jiro leads me carefully back the way we came, straight past the dōjō to my usual station in Ku 6. Before we reach the bottom of the stairs, he pulls a light overcoat from his bag and puts it on so the sword is hidden beneath it.

It’s past rush hour, and the trains are running less frequently than usual. We walk down the platform away from the small crowd waiting by the stairs so we have some privacy. He turns to me, and I slip my arms into and under his coat gripping the sword for a moment before holding him tight. I love it here.

“You’re going to confront Sakai once and for all, aren’t you? I saw you today, and you were determined. I want you to be careful, but I know you’ll do what you want.”

“Am I really that stubborn?” I ask as I tilt my head up to him. His hair falls down and tickles my face. “I want to kiss you again.”

“Kissing is only the tip of what I want,” he says quietly.

I rise up and brush my nose against his before sealing our lips together. I can feel the eyes of the other people in the station watching us, and I don’t care. In fact, I kiss him even deeper, opening my mouth and letting him in. His body sags a little and he ends the kiss slowly.

“Let’s not get on this train,” he whispers. “Come home with me tonight instead.”

Jiro rests his forehead against mine and our eyes are so close, my breath heaving in my chest. I want to go home with him, and it’s taking all of my willpower not to drag him back out of this station right now. I told him everything, and he still wants to be with me. That, in itself, is enough to bolster my confidence.

I imagine us in bed together, and it’s enough to make my heart beat so hard I can hear it in my ears, but we can’t do this tonight. Just not tonight.

“On the third date? Don’t you think that’s a little scandalous?”

He groans and presses his forehead even harder on mine. “You’re killing me.”

I laugh in my head but keep it to myself because it seems cruel right now.

“There’s nothing I want more. I’m worried about what will happen if I don’t come home. Will it send Aunt Kimie over the edge? I don’t think I should chance it. Do you?”

The chimes of an arriving train sound even before the vibrations below my feet. With a rush of cold oncoming air, the train glides smoothly into the station, and I bury my head in Jiro’s chest until it subsides.

“You’re right, of course. Let’s go. I’ll take you home tonight. I can’t promise I won’t try to steal you away tomorrow, though.”

“Fine by me.”