Removed – Chapter 36

This theater is incredible which doesn’t surprise me in the least. It’s five stories tall with long purple banners falling from the arch over the entryway into a grand meeting space. I love the high arching points in the roofs, the scrollwork along the edges, and the hundreds of red paper lanterns hanging off every available ledge.

Though the dome lights have dimmed for night time, the atrium inside is bright and cheery. Hundreds of people are streaming towards the doors, weaving in and out of three meter high vertical banners introducing tonight’s taiko drumming troupe. Families and children of all ages are milling about. This crowd makes me even more nervous than meeting with the clan leaders face-to-face. It’s so many people.

Jiro points to Sakai who stands on the steps waiting for us with Koichi and Mariko. “We have a box for the show. No worries, Sanaa. You’ll be sitting down soon enough.”

“Good. This kimono weighs a ton, and my legs are still shaking.”

I’m surrounded by Jiro, Beni, Usagi, and four other guards wearing Sakai clan kimono. People are streaming past us and glancing over their shoulders at me. I’m the center of attention already, and I haven’t stepped inside the building yet.

“You’ll want to stand and talk to Sakai long enough so people can see you,” Jiro says as he puts his hand on my back and slightly pushes me up the steps.

We ascend the stairs, and Mariko hands me a fan I forgot I had left behind. Sakai pulls men and women out of the crowd and introduces me to them as Sanaa Itami, daughter of Junko Itami. Several people blanch and question Sakai, but many take him at his word right away. The introductions are a blur of faces, names, bowing, and curtsies.

As I’m staring off down the steps, Tadao Matsuda fades into my view. Our eyes meet, and he cocks his head and narrows his eyes at me with a smile. He probably misses all of the time he spent watching me around the dōjō. Taking a closed fan out of his obi, he taps the corner of his right eye.

Yes, I know. You’re watching me.

I wonder who has hired him to determine the course of the rest of my life. Whoever it is, I’m sure they want to cut my time as short as possible.

Jiro follows my line of sight and leans forward to catch what I’m looking at, but Matsuda has already moved on, and there are too many people here to talk freely. I open my fan and hold it up to my face to disguise my mouth.

“Can we go in now? Before I lose my nerve to continue on with this night?” I’m faint with nerves, light-headed and shaky. I need to concentrate on not throwing up.

The inside of the theater is lightly based on kabuki theaters from Old Japan. A large stage with a walkway juts out into the crowd. The floor is standing room only. Another four levels of seating rise above with boxes on either side.

We enter the auditorium, and my head tilts up in awe. Each section’s balustrade is honed from composite wood painted dark and rich. The interior space soars five stories high. It’s the biggest open area I have ever been in besides the outside.

“I thought you might want to see it,” Jiro says with a smile. “I love this theater.”

“Wow. I love it, too.”

“Come, you two. Our box is there.” Sakai points to a section on the second tier to the left of the stage. We shuffle through the stairways and halls, and I know exactly where to go because Sakai’s men have already secured a path in front of me. Sakai, Koichi, Mariko, Jiro, Usagi, Beni, and I enter our little box, and it barely fits us all.

“Jiro, what about your brother and Miko? Are they coming? This doesn’t seem like something Miko would miss.”

He points. Miko is waving at me from a box directly across the hall. Yoichi is sitting next to her.

This kimono is hot, and I’m getting nervous about making it through this show in one piece. I take out the fan Mariko gave me and get the air moving around me.

“Okay, love?” Jiro asks with a hand on my arm.

“Mmm-hmmm.” And now my blush is growing because Mariko and Koichi are staring at us. This is the first time Jiro has used that nickname in front of them.

“I can’t wait to take you all over Ku 6,” he says, leaning even closer to me. Jiro’s eyes are happy, such a contrast to the serious time spent in the dōjō, and it warms my heart to know that I bring him joy. “I have so much to show you. And we’ll travel the other wards together, too.”

“I’d really like that.” From what I’ve seen of Ku 6 so far, I want to see more.

I’m thankful when the lights dim, and the drumming starts. I peek over the edge, and Minamoto is on the outskirts of the theater floor. He’s surrounded by his tattooed security men, and I think his son is with him, but I can’t tell from this distance.

Maeda is watching me from a box up and to the right of Miko and Yoichi. He took a night off from the casino. He must be more interested in me than I first thought. I have completely lost sight of Matsuda and have no idea where Tomio Miura could be. I can’t find them in the crowd, and it makes me uneasy.

Five minutes into the show, I start to forget my nervousness and lose myself in the performance because this troupe is amazing. The drumming is explosive, and the vibrations are coming straight up through the floor of our box to my feet. Besides the four drummers up front slamming on the largest drums, women in kimono stand behind them, their hands and arms a blur as they bang away on the smaller instruments.

It’s immensely loud, but I don’t mind. The noise drowns out the thoughts swirling in my head, and the rhythm is actually quite peaceful. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the beat of the drums and the vibrations overcoming the auditorium when I realize something’s wrong.

I realize it at the same time half the audience realizes it, their heads swiveling to the ceiling.

Earthquake.

The paper chandeliers above are swaying and bouncing, and people are falling down. I jump up to move, but I’m thrown forward at the railing. I’m lucky to scramble and hold on before I tumble over.

My box is a chorus of swear words, and Beni screams before she is flung against me. I capture her with one arm and hold on to the railing with the other. We all know this is a big one. Those little earthquakes we had were just building up to this.

The show ceases and one drum comes off its platform and careens into the audience completely flattening an old man who couldn’t move fast enough. Only a few people who can get their feet under them run for an exit. Everyone else is piled on the floor awaiting the end of the quake, but judging by the screams, many are injured.

I turn my back on the crowd, press my ribs against the railing, and keep one arm wrapped around Beni. The shaking is slowing down. The quake is almost over. “Mark, we have to get out of here!”

Jiro has one hand on the railing, reaches out with his other, and grabs the front of my kimono. Mariko and Koichi are pressed against the wall. Usagi is at the door. As he’s about to part the curtains and usher us out, I hear the sound I’ve always dreaded under the cacophony of chaos happening below me, the high pitched ting of metal on metal.

“Usagi, wait!”

He moves out of the way just in time as a man dressed all in black and brandishing a katana flies into the box. He cuts right at Sakai who ducks and stumbles as we’re jolted again. Koichi lunges at the man from behind and pushes him towards us at the railing. We roll out to the sides, and the man tumbles over to the floor with a scream.

And then, everything stops — the ground’s not moving, the light’s not swaying. The crowd on the floor is silent for a moment before the screaming starts again and those that are not injured rise to their feet and run for the exit.

But we’re in trouble in here. Someone was ready to make a move tonight and thought the earthquake was a good time to strike. They were right.

Koichi draws his sword and waits at the door. I’m still pressed against the railing when, out of the corner of my eye, I detect movement where there should not be any. I lean farther back out and find three men climbing down hand-over-hand along the outside of the boxes from two flights up.

Oh shit.

Jiro has his eyes on the door. I draw my short sword from my obi.

“Jiro,” I whisper. “Up.” He follows my line of sight.

“Shit.” He turns to Sakai, and I swear he mouths ninjas while pointing up.

How many? Sakai mouths back.

Jiro holds up three fingers.

I push Beni away from me, and Mariko reaches forward to grab us both.

“Can you use this?” I ask Mariko as I show her the short sword. I want Kazenoho; it’s on Jiro’s back.

Jiro backs up from the railing with Oninoten out and says, “Take it,” just as black feet approach over the box’s ceiling. I manage to get Kazenoho out as all hell breaks lose.

The three ninjas come bounding into the box as two other men try to break in through the door at the same time. Koichi and Usagi defend the door, and that leaves Jiro and me to take care of the ninjas. I’m ready for this.

Jiro cuts down two of the three so swiftly that I blink, and they are gushing blood. One of them lashed out with a knife and got Jiro on the shoulder. The third gets by him and goes directly for me. I let my body instinctively move Kazenoho to block him twice before pushing him back with all my might. He barely stumbles, though. I’m so small in comparison to him, and this damn kimono slows down my reactions. He lunges at me again but he’s not expecting Mariko to come at him from the side. With her distraction, I thrust forward with Kazenoho and stab him straight through the chest.

Just like that, I kill a person. Well, it was either him or me. I chose me.

I quickly withdraw the blade before it gets stuck in him. For a brief couple of seconds, time stands still, and I see us standing over three dead bodies with blood dripping from our swords. This is not how I thought our day would turn out.

Flicking the blood off Kazenoho, I move to the railing to look up and down. No one is coming. Across the auditorium, Miko and Yoichi’s box is empty. I hope they got out unharmed. Most of the audience are gone, but a few dead or injured people lie on the floor. I want to send help to them, but I have to think about us first. The whole place shakes again briefly.

“Over the side, Mariko. Beni, you go with her.” I push them both towards the balustrade, but Beni fiercely shakes her head.

“No! No, I’m not going,” Mariko shouts. She and Koichi look at each other across the box, and he nods to her sadly. A small bubble of panic rises in my throat.

“You will go,” I say as I push her. “Find Yoichi and Miko. Your whole family needs you.”

She looks me briefly in the eye and kisses me on the cheek. “Be safe.”

Mariko climbs over and lowers herself until she only has a two meter drop. Beni is still standing next to me.

“Go. You must find my aunts in Ku 5 and make sure they’re alive.”

With a nod, she climbs over the side and is right behind Mariko.

“Sanaa and I will go out the side and climb.” Jiro steps over the fallen bodies and pushes me to the railing.

“We’ll go out the door.” Sakai has paled but he looks as determined as ever.

“Wait! Mark, take Kazenoho. I can’t climb with it and this kimono. I have Jiro. You need to defend yourself.” Without further argument, I push the sword into his hand and turn around. I can’t stand the look on his face, like we won’t see each other again.

I climb over the railing and immediately regret my kimono decision. Damned thing is getting ruined. I take the long sleeves and wrap them up around my arms to get them off my hands. This is the last time I wear one of these to a big event, I swear it.

“Which way?” I ask.

“To the left and up. Go! I’ll be underneath you in case you fall.”

“Great. So I can take us both out on the way down.” I start climbing horizontally, scale the railing in the next box over and grab for the balustrade on the box above it.

“Use the wall, Sanaa.”

I kick my slip-on shoes off and try to gain traction with my bare feet.

I manage to swing my legs up and get to the next floor box which is deserted. Jiro is quickly behind me, climbing like he was born to do it. He pulls my shoes from the front of his kimono, and I laugh. How does he do that?

“Did you catch those?”

He nods but we have no break in the action. From below several men come racing into the auditorium and spot us in the box.

“Oi!” They point and run in different directions, some peel off to the stairs, the others climb. I hurriedly put my shoes back on, and we head for the hallway.

Jiro peeks through the curtains, and while I’m waiting for the all-clear, I take the dagger Jiro strapped to my leg earlier and move the weapon to my obi where I can reach it.

“Let’s go. We’ll come around to the front and try to make our way out of the theater,” he says, as we run down the hall. “Let’s hope the ward’s not falling to pieces, and we can get back to our building.”

I’m thinking we may not be so lucky. The hallway is so damaged part of the wall has caved in, and when we round the corner for the front stairwell, the area is blocked by debris, a man crushed and dead in the wreckage.

“Back stairs?” I ask. I’ve never been here before. No one is around. Everyone must have made it out before the last little shockwave.

“Yes. Back the way we came.”

We turn and run, but I can’t pick up pace in this heavy kimono. I lift the bottom up off my legs so I can run faster.

We pass the boxes we came out of a minute before and the men who had decided to climb up the outside come barreling through the curtain at us.

“Go Sanaa!”

I know Jiro can take these three. I know it, but I don’t want to leave him. If I get away now and down the back stairs I can meet up with Sakai and the others, assuming they’re alive. If I stay, I’ll be in the way without Kazenoho, another target for these men. My options are not good.

“Go!” he screams.

Okay, I go, though it’s killing me to leave. Please, please, please let Jiro come out of this alive. Please let us all come out of this alive.

I run through the door to the back stairs and a hand reaches out and punches me in the forehead. I slam into the stairs’ railing, my neck snapping back and hitting my head on the hard composite. The force of the blow knocks me down, and my butt hits two steps before stopping at the feet of Matsuda. He has his sword out, and the blade is dripping blood.

“Did you really think you were going to get away?” he asks.

He doesn’t even bother to keep his sword drawn, flicking and re-sheathing it, because I’m defenseless.

My sight blackens along the edges, and I’m so stunned he easily picks me up, wrapping his arms around mine, and pinning them down while dragging me down the stairs.

My head pounds, and I feel like I’m going to vomit. I should. I should let the bile come up. Maybe Matsuda would slip on it and I’d be free. But the feeling passes quickly, and I almost faint he’s crushing my chest so tight.

A groan escapes me. Think, Sanaa! I can’t let him take me away so easily.

I deliver a careful blow to his shin with my foot, and it knocks him off-balance. We stumble down two steps before he growls and picks me back up again. I kick and scream and cause as much of a scene as I can, hoping someone will hear me.

No one shows up.

With one arm still around me, he clamps his hand over my mouth. “Be quiet!”

I bite down hard until I taste blood but he barely flinches.

“He just doesn’t give up,” Mariko said, and she was right. He won’t stop — won’t quit until I’m dead. I can’t reach my dagger with his arms pinning mine down. Can’t defend myself. He is going to kill me.

I throw my body hard against him while he drags me down the last two steps to the first mezzanine level.

How have we exited almost right outside of my original box, and no one is here except for the bodies in the hallway? His feet squish as he carries me over liters of blood spilled and soaked into the carpet. My nostrils are filled with the scent of metal and urine, making me sick again. I was sure someone would be here.

Where is Sakai? Usagi? I don’t see them.

With a mounting sense of dread, I fight Matsuda again. This time I snap my head back as fast as I can and hit him so hard in the chin he lets go of me. I try to get up off the floor, but my legs won’t cooperate, and the world is spinning.

Ow, my head! The concussion I sustained in the stairwell is even worse now. My brain refuses to communicate with the rest of my body. Not now. Not now!

Matsuda crouches down next to me and laughs.

“Crazy girl. Do you think you can just get up and walk away from me? You think those nogiku tattoos make you stronger? You may be wild, but I…” He stands and kicks me solidly in the back sending me sprawling out on the floor. “I have captured you.”

My side erupts in a deep, blinding pain. He aimed right for my kidney, the bastard, and I can’t catch my breath. Can’t move. I’m close to vomiting between the pain and the blood all over my hands and knees from those men and women killed around me.

“If Taira didn’t want you dead, I’d take you for myself to get back at Jiro.”

He lunges forward and grabs me by my hair, pulling the bun out and yanking me by the ponytail. If I thought the kidney pain was bad, this is worse. If he pulls any harder my scalp is going to come off.

“Let go of me!” I smack at his hand but he jerks my head. “Jiro!”

“I sent six men after him. He’s not coming for you.”

I’m all alone.

I try to get myself up off the ground so he’s not dragging me, but the pain in my head and my back is bringing tears to my eyes, and I let out a sob that makes me sick inside.

“That’s right,” Matsuda says with a wry chuckle. “Cry, little girl. You’re no empress.”

This is it, my last chance. I have to get away, have to free myself from him before he hands me over to Miura. I’m certain he means it when he says he’s going to kill me. I should have known Taira would act first. I never even saw Miura tonight. He stayed away on purpose.

The only good thing about Matsuda dragging me by my hair is my hands are free. I try to block out the pain radiating through my scalp, reach into my obi, and draw out the dagger Jiro gave me. Act fast, Sanaa. I can’t stab Matsuda because he may not let go and then I’ll be no better off than I was before I had the knife in my hand.

Quickly, I reach up and, with two swipes, I cut my hair off, releasing me from the agony pulsing through my head. Matsuda looks down at his hand full of my hair, and taking advantage of his stunned pause, I dive forward and thrust the knife into his abdomen.

I am no longer afraid of killing. I look him directly in the eye as I shove harder and drag the knife through his insides. It’s the only way I can guarantee he’ll never touch me or anyone I love again.

My hands and kimono are covered in blood, and Matsuda falls to his knees as I step back. Even now as he sits dying, I hate him for everything, for killing my parents, for making this a war it should never have been.

“You killed my parents, and now I kill you. Justice.”

He underestimated me. He won’t be the last.

Even as the last bit of life fades from his eyes, Matsuda laughs. “Justice. How about some mercy? Finish it.”

Drooping forward, he coughs blood and reveals the katana on his back that he didn’t draw even once because he didn’t believe I could fight.

With a shaky step to him, I reach out, grab the sword, and raise it high.

“Here’s your mercy.”

I bring the blade down squarely on his neck then turn to stop myself from watching his head roll away on the carpet.

Footsteps echo from the back stairs behind me, and Sakai and Usagi step into the doorway, stopped in shock. They are both bloody and panting. Sakai took a hit to his face, and his arm is wounded. Usagi’s right eye is swollen.

If Matsuda were not dead at my feet with his sword in my hands, they would surely think I was dying from the amount of blood on me. I drop the sword and try to walk towards them, but my legs won’t cooperate. The adrenaline is gone, and my body feels free to panic.

I make it two steps before the black descends upon me.