Removed – Chapter 35

I sleep all night on my stomach and wake up with Jiro late the next morning. He takes off the bandage, and the tattoo is perfect, absolutely flawless. Tattoos in the old days must have been such a pain without the meds we have now. A twelve-hour turnaround in healing would get almost anyone in the chair.

We’ll have no private time today if this morning is any indication of how the rest of the day will go. It’s only nine-thirty, and Beni and Oyama are already in our apartment. Oyama is serving up breakfast, Jiro is in the shower, and I have a few things I need Beni to do today.

“Aunt Kimie is going to meet you in our old building in Ku 9 and take you to my family’s storage room. She’ll show you everything and grant you access to the space for the foreseeable future.” Beni nods, her little hair clips over her ears bounce in time with her head.

“Sakai has asked me to wear one of the royal kimonos tonight, so please go to the air-tight bins and choose one. Nothing too heavy, though. I need to be able to move in it. Don’t forget an obi and grab whatever else looks interesting.”

After Beni leaves, Oyama is right on her heels. I swear he’s only said about five words to me in the time I’ve known him. He’s so quiet. Only ever “yes, miss” or “no, miss” and sometimes we discuss what I like to eat and don’t, but he’s not at all social and keeps to himself.

“Why is Oyama so quiet?” I ask, sitting at the table with Jiro. “I wish he’d talk to me more.”

Jiro passes me a plate of food, lovingly arranged. “Here, eat. I’ll tell you what Oyama likes, a clean plate.”

“Mark told me he likes pretty girls, and that’s why he wants to do this job.”

Jiro laughs. “I am constantly surprised by the things Sakai tells you that he tells no one else. I can’t imagine him ever saying that.”

“I think he shows you his serious side because that’s the way he wants you to be, especially when you’re head of the family.”

Will Jiro choose to support Sakai clan instead of me someday? I’m only one person, one little person left in my generation for my family.

“Jiro…” I set my chopsticks down. “I want to make sure you’re fine with all of this, us living together already, and how quickly everything happened.”

He sets his chopsticks down too and holds my eyes in a lock, but stays silent.

“Because, if you’re having doubts then…” I swallow hard past the lump in my throat. “Then I completely understand.”

“Sanaa, never in my life has anything made more sense, made me more happy than this. I promise. I’m perfectly fine with everything.” His feet reach mine under the table and rub up against them, causing a new blush to burst onto my neck.

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure. I still don’t feel like any of this is real.”

“Anyway, Oyama,” Jiro continues, setting his rice aside and picking up the miso soup. “About four or five years ago, he had the sweetest girlfriend and was totally in love with her, but she died of a congenital heart defect the doctors couldn’t fix.”

“Oh. Oh, no. That’s so sad.” Poor Oyama. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost someone close to me like that. I lost my parents but I was practically a baby.

“Yeah. He was quite depressed for a long time. I remember Sakai going to talk to him one day, and Oyama up and turned his life around. He’s been cooking and food-tasting full time since then. Before, it was only a thing he did on the side. He practiced with Sakai until you came along.”

“Hmmm, and what about Usagi? Are they really brothers?”

“Adopted. Usagi is adopted. His real name is Akio, but he hates it. Oyama’s real name is Hideyoshi. They are technically family friends and not blood relatives though they have sworn allegiance to Sakai clan.”

Family friends, blood relatives, adopted. I try to picture everything in my head.

“I think I’m going to need a family tree soon. This family is confusing and large.”

“Yes, it is,” he says with a smile, but I can tell it’s a confusing and large family he loves. “Do you want to go to the dōjō today and train?”

“Yes. Definitely. It’ll be great to get out.” Even though we’ll be kicking each other’s butt in the dōjō, we’ll be alone. Just have to ignore the cameras.

“Let’s finish and go then.”

It was a good idea to expend all of my excess energy at the dōjō because, now, as Beni is getting me dressed for this taiko drumming concert, I’m less nervous than I thought I would be.

Mariko is here in our little bedroom as well. She’s already dressed in a peach kimono with a dark green obi and has her hair all twisted up into a French knot. She helped Beni get dressed in a dark pink kimono before they both came over here.

Beni chose a bright green royal kimono for me to wear tonight from the storage area. The fabric is exceptionally heavy, but Beni assured me it was the lightest one of the bunch. She’s paired it with a dark gray obi studded with checks of dark blue. Beni has good taste.

“Okay, Sanaa.” Beni stands and waits, her hands clasped in front of her, and I hesitate before stripping down to my underwear, no undershirt. Mariko eyes me, and I know my body is being quietly assessed as something her son sees, and gods, that’s embarrassing. Her glance only lasts a second, but her attention snaps back to me when I turn around, and my new tattoos face her.

“Ah! Gorgeous. Those are Jiro’s, no?”

A blush creeps up my neck to my face. Yes, they are beautiful and Jiro’s. I turn my head to see her pleased expression, and I scan the width of my tattoos again. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of them.

“Nogiku. They’re perfect for you,” she says.

“Sanaa just got them yesterday.” Beni holds out the white undergarment for me to wear and makes sure the collar is up around my neck and tight across the chest. My tattoos are only for family and friends. “She was very brave in the chair.”

“Thank you, Beni.”

Next comes the bright green kimono and obi. Both Beni and Mariko use all their strength and finagling to get a decent drum bow tied on my back. I feel ten kilos heavier. Beni had already done my makeup earlier when I was fresh from the shower, so while she ties the obijime around me, Mariko brushes out my hair and twists it into a simple, elegant bun at the back of my head. Not traditional but lovely, nonetheless.

“All ready?” Jiro asks from the door. “Here’s the short sword you had Beni get from the storage area.”

I unsheathe the blade, and the sword is still in excellent condition with a gleaming finish. Jiro reaches into my obi, laying the weapon lengthwise and tilted across my belly and lower chest. The position is not comfortable at all but I’ll have to get used to it.

“I still don’t understand why I can’t bring Kazenoho.”

“I’ll carry both our swords. Sakai says he doesn’t want the first real image of you to be a fighter. We’re promoting peace not war.”

“I don’t agree. I think Kazenoho makes me look strong, like I shouldn’t be messed with.”

He smiles as Mariko nods her head.

“Well, yeah. But when has Sakai ever been wrong about these things?” He reaches into his obi. “Here. I have a small, extremely sharp dagger I want you to fasten to your leg, too. This one will be our secret.” He turns to Beni and Mariko. “Can you two give us a minute, please?”

They both leave and shut the door behind them.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

“I’m terrified. I don’t know how I’ll make it through tonight.” If he could see through my kimono, he’d find my knees shaking.

“You need to dig deep. Find the same strength you did from the other night when you commanded Maeda to kneel and negotiated with Matsuda.”

“I don’t know. That was an out-of-body experience. I can’t expect it to happen again.” I was possessed, an entirely different person than the small, shaking girl I am now.

“It’ll come to you.” He pulls me close to him, and I tip my face up to his. “You look amazing. I’d propose to you right now if you could marry.”

I no longer feel ridiculous in this extravagant kimono and smile shyly.

“I wish you could.” It’s the truth.

The damn sword in my obi is poking me in the ribs, but I’m not going to let that stop me from getting a final kiss before we leave. I rise up to my tip-toes to brush my mouth against his warm, soft lips, and we lightly press into each other being careful not to mess up my makeup. His fingers graze my cheek and chin before landing on my neck. Ah, I love his touch.

Before I can pull away, he kisses me on my nose and sighs. “I love those freckles.”