Removed – Chapter 8

We spend our morning in Ku 1 as always, and after lunch, Sakai escorts me directly to Ku 6, the Japanese Ward. I haven’t been here since I was little. Emerging from the transitway station, colorful signs, blinking with bright orange, red, and blue displays or white backlit kanji, hiragana, and katakana, jut out from every building.

Ku 6 is even more busy than my Ku 9 ward, and the lack of English makes my head swirl. People swarm around us to get down to the transitway platform before the station chimes end, jostling my shoulder and politely murmuring excuses as they descend. I step off to the side and press my back against a building covered in a graffiti-style mural, two white kodama ghosts at the base of a thick tree.

I’ve seen all of this before, and it doesn’t make it any less chaotic. Now I look upon the Ku 6 residents and wonder about which clans they affiliate themselves with, or I spy familiar men and women on the sidewalk I’ve never met before but watched on video. Spending all of my time scrutinizing surveillance footage has made me apprehensive about being here in person.

After a short walk from the train, we step up to an empty appliance dealer’s storefront, its sign unlit. The doorway is like any other nondescript building on the block except for a small emblem stamped over the threshold: three petals of a flower arranged in a circle. I lightly run my fingers over the raised surface.

“This is the Sakai family kamon, right? What is this flower?”

“The katabami. Like a clover, usually yellow.”

“Do you live here?”

“No, I do not. Someone else from my clan owns this building. The storefront is to keep curious people away.”

He opens the door and leads me up two flights of stairs to a large room. The windows are draped in heavy fabrics. The floors covered with mats. I believe this is a dōjō, but there are no adornments whatsoever which is out of character. The room is tight and warm with hardly a breath of air. They should really open those windows. My eyes land on the corner and the rack of wooden swords, and I break into a cold sweat.

I’m not used to seeing weapons out in the open, though I’ve seen them on video. I can’t tear my eyes from these. Police only carry nightsticks and guns were banned over three hundred years ago. Eliminating guns didn’t stop the hand-to-hand violence nor the beatings some take with bats or stabbings with knives, but it removed truly deadly weapons from the populace.

Still, I draw the logical conclusion from wooden to metal swords. If people practice with the former, they are capable of using the latter. Everyone carrying a sword must be skilled enough to use one. Anxiety and fear start to buzz in the back of my head.

A young man about my age emerges from a doorway, and my stomach sinks. Oh no.

“Hello, Sanaa. It’s nice to see you again.” I didn’t think I would meet Jiro so soon again after New Year’s Eve. I figured Sakai was going to keep me in my little room forever and ever, and my wish for love and happiness would never be granted. But this? I didn’t plan on this.

“Hi, Jiro…” is about all I can manage with a short bow, and I want to turn and deck Sakai for bringing me here with no prior warning. I glance at him, and he’s trying not to smile. I’m going to kill him. I swear it.

Jiro calls out towards the doorway, “Father, they’re here!” Jiro is staring at me with those eyes that laughed on New Year’s Eve as he read his omikuji. The eyes that captured my attention so easily bore into me now, making me squirm inside. I’m paralyzed as to what to do, so I stand and wait.

Out of the same doorway comes the man who was with Sakai on New Year’s Eve at Izakaya Tanaka. With his silver, close-cropped hair and scar on the left side of his jaw, he approaches me, smiling.

“Well, well, Mark. She is Junko’s girl, for sure. The same face from when we were little.”

Another person who knew my family. I’d be delighted if I weren’t frozen in place. The two men nod to each other while I shift uncomfortably. I’m trying to keep my face as passive as possible but it’s difficult. Jiro. I was sure I’d run into him eventually, what with Miko dating his older brother and Sakai and Jiro running errands all over the city together, but I was hoping it would be in some official capacity. Maybe I could flirt and talk to him. Maybe even ask him on a date. But Sakai said there’d be training today. This is a disaster.

Sakai clears his throat which makes me jump and jolts me out of my thoughts. Great. Sakai can already tell this is making me uncomfortable.

“Sanaa, this is Koichi Itō, and his son, Jiro, whom you’ve met before. As you’ve probably guessed, you will be learning to sword fight with them.”

Fantastic. A guy who is totally my type and any prospect of romance is about to be submarined by a business relationship, a teacher-student relationship. How the hell am I going to pull this off when I’ve already flirted with him once before?

Jiro studies me, gauging me like Sakai often does. This must be a family trait. Looking at the three of them together, they are definitely related. They could all practically be triplets in their Nishikyō grays and solemn expressions. I turn to Sakai for reassurance as he lays a hand on my shoulder. This is not what I expected to happen today.

“I know your mother never cared for sword fighting, but since you’re already more than proficient in karate, I figured this was the next logical step.” Sakai turns to Jiro. “Don’t think she can be easily defeated, Jiro.”

Sakai is boasting about my skills? I want to tell him to shut up before he gets me in trouble, but he seems sincere. “She has her father’s determination.”

Sakai’s eyes are hard on Jiro, and the two stare at each other stonily before Jiro gives in.

“Hmmm, we’ll see,” Jiro says, walking to the wall of wooden swords. Uh oh. I think I’m about to be tested. Too much talk.

He takes two of the smaller swords and tosses one to me which I fumble and drop on the ground. I’m so unprepared my face practically bursts into flames. I reach down and pick up the sword, copying Jiro’s stance, but he hasn’t made a move to lunge at me like I thought he would. Instead, he watches me stare at the sword.

“It’s real wood,” I exclaim. The strong grain weaves up the side, and I follow the wavering line all the way to the tip with my fingers. The sword is nicked and dented more times than I can count.

“We’ve had them for centuries.” Jiro smiles at me, holding his sword tip-down in front of him. “Passed down through our family for generations. Newer ones are available, but they’re all composite.”

I heft the sword in my hand. Light but sturdy. Surely fighting with a sword can’t be that different from fighting with your hands.

What have I gotten myself into?

I smile at him, and move a few steps back, my eyes set firmly on his sword.

Jiro lunges forward, and my sword clatters to the ground. Well, that didn’t take long. He places his sword back in his obi belt tied around his waist and waits for me to pick the sword back up again, which I do.

I’m not one for being beaten without putting up a fight. This time, I attack first, but Jiro is so fast. He draws his sword and cuts down on my attack. My body moves left and down, putting me at Jiro’s back. I want to stay loose and on my toes to get the advantage, but he reaches out so easily, and my sword is gone. Jiro’s three subsequent slashes meet air as I dodge out of the way.

“Stop!” Sakai barks. “Sanaa, you have much to learn.”

I stumble but pull myself up to bow to Jiro and Koichi. “I’ve never held a sword before. What did you all expect? I certainly wasn’t going to let him hit me with that.”

Jiro rolls his eyes, and I immediately want to hit him. Wow, he’s cocky.

“If you think I would hurt you with this, you should give up now. I’ve been training with the sword all my life. I can fight and disarm you without ever even touching you.” He moves in close to me, so close his breath is on my cheek. I freeze in place. He is intimidating, and I should be afraid of him, but I’m not. In fact, he just became ten times more attractive, and blood is rushing to my neck. Calm your beating heart, Sanaa. “You will learn.”

“Possibly the hard way,” Koichi says.

I narrow my eyes at him. “We’ll see about that.” Obviously, I’m a glutton for punishment. I pick up the sword. “Again.”

Jiro comes at me high and this time I’m prepared for the force of his attack. I block left, then right, and parry a lunge, but he is fast and comes back at my side on the rebound. The touch of his sword is light against my ribs, arrogantly showing me I’ve lost. Anger causes me to fall away from the sword and kick out at his feet on the way down. With a yell, he falls on top of me, and our swords fly in opposite directions.

“Get off of me!” I push him hard, one hand on his face, and the other on his chest, and surprisingly, he’s laughing.

“You fight dirty. This is not kickboxing… but I like it.”

“Like it, huh?” I see a twinkle in his eye. That can’t be good. “What is this anyway? Kill or be killed?”

Jiro looks to his father with raised eyebrows, and Koichi chuckles.

“Sword fighting… Well, iaido at least, is not meant for slaying an opponent, although that was the reason the discipline came about in the first place. Jiro only wanted to teach you a hard lesson. Sakai tells me you’re a brown belt in karate.”

Sakai knows everything about me. Now I’m wondering who else he’s talked to.

“Yes, I am. I enjoy karate, but I just practice for the health and, well, mental benefits. I used to go all the time, until someone took away my freedom.” I place my hands on my hips, turning from Sakai.

Koichi nods. “You will do the same here. Jiro and I will teach you the kata of iaido. When we feel like you’ve made progress, we’ll put them to practice. You may never spar with him again, if you don’t wish to. Sakai and I both think it’s important for you to have a partner your own age to learn from.”

“To what end?” I look to Sakai. “Why would I need to use a sword? What’s the point, Mark?”

Koichi looks incredulously at Sakai, and he clears his throat. “She calls you by your first name?” Koichi laughs again. “My, my.”

Despite myself, I smile too. Koichi is a lot less stern than Sakai. Maybe he’ll be easier to understand and get along with.

“The point, Sanaa, is to learn more about our culture. You have been too far removed from being Japanese for too long… And I expect this may come in handy someday.”

That is all he will say on the matter.

Sakai leaves me in the hands of Koichi and Jiro for the rest of the day, and they start by showing me the beginning kata of iaido. It is not a fast-paced sword fighting like I thought. Iaido is slow and deliberate, each action precisely made and timed.

“Iaido is not the furious sword fighting of kendo. It is the full mind-and-body study of drawing the blade, cutting down your opponent, and returning the katana to its scabbard after it’s been cleaned. We start from seiza.” Koichi sits down on the mat facing me in seiza, and I join him.

Seiza is a traditional Japanese way of sitting I’m quite familiar with. Those who never sit seiza find the position uncomfortable, but I’ve spent most of my life in seiza, so it’s never bothered me. I first kneel then bring my butt straight down onto my heels and, allowing my feet to relax outwards, I settle myself directly on them. I rest my hands on my upper thighs like Koichi does.

“For this, I ask that you do not sit with your legs together. You must separate them by a few centimeters.”

This is the opposite of how most women sit, but I do as I’m told and wait while Jiro sits next to me. He gives me a short nod after examining my form.

“Traditionally, men and women practiced iaido in montsuki, obi, and hakama. Since you will be practicing every day, we practice as is, but you will need a belt from which to draw your sword. We have some here for you.”

“Will I be using a real sword?” It seems crazy to let any beginner use a real sword. But I can be crazy if that’s what’s required. I may be reserved towards others, but I swear I have a wild streak. My crazy side is just buried deep under all the outward respect I’m conditioned to give, especially to elders and strangers. Miko and Helena have seen plenty.

“No, we will use the wooden swords for now. All of our katana are family heirlooms and would most likely be damaged in beginning practice. You’ll learn the forms first, and we’ll provide you with a sword later so you can learn to draw from the scabbard, or saya, and return it properly.” Koichi adjusts his sitting position placing his wooden sword on the ground before him and comes to a low, respectful bow. Jiro and I follow.

“Now Jiro will demonstrate the first kata.”

Jiro rises and walks a suitable distance away from the two of us. Though I’m supposed to be examining his technique, I cannot keep my eyes off his face. I study his strong chin and long hair with the white streak over his ear that comes loose if he moves his head too much. My mouth is dry with desire. Already I’m a goner. I have to force myself to concentrate on the lesson.

Koichi narrates while Jiro demonstrates. “Start in seiza. Your opponent is attacking you from the front. Remove your blade while coming up on one knee and cut across and away from your body with the blade turned out. Grasp the sword with both hands, and cut straight down from above. Bring the sword’s grip, in your right hand, to your right temple, and then, in a sweeping motion you will fling the blood from the blade over your head, across your body, and down. Return the blade to its sheath. Stand and take two steps back.”

Jiro’s face is quiescent and peaceful as he accurately carries out each movement. His concentration is intense, and the way he moves without even thinking, instinctive-like, is admirable. This is the same peace of mind I strive towards when practicing karate. Immediately, I envy his form and know I’ll do anything to be as good. I’m determined to show them both I am the ideal student.

Thankfully, I’m only boastful in my head.

“Now,” Koichi says as he rises to his feet. “Jiro will teach you. I have other business to attend to.” He bows to us both and leaves the room without another word.

I watch him go with mounting panic and realize I will be practicing with Jiro alone. I get the feeling this was done on purpose. Jiro’s going to be hard on me, I know it. I deserve as much after playing dirty earlier.

My entire body deflates.

“No worries, Sanaa,” he says with a smile. “I promise not to be too hard on you.”

Another person who can read my mind. I’m horrible at hiding my feelings. I wish I had never flirted with him because now I’m going to be so humiliated as he whips me into shape. I was sure he flirted with me, too, but now, the way he keeps his distance and his tone polite, I’m questioning whether or not anything happened at all. In fact, with his strict demeanor turned to me in full, I’m positive I’m wrong about the whole attraction. He was just humoring me on New Year’s Eve.

I’ll try to forget and work on letting Jiro be my instructor. What else can I do?

When Sakai returns in the late afternoon, I’m a sweaty, panting mess, and Jiro is only a little fatigued.

“Sanaa is an excellent student, Sakai. I have no doubt she’ll be a master in no time.” I could cry, but instead I let out a heartfelt chuckle and fall down to the mat with a thump. Jiro shakes his head with a smile and gathers our swords.

“He’s joking, of course. I was lucky to follow along only about thirty percent of the time.”

“Did you spar again?”

“No. I think once is enough for now, don’t you?” I can’t wipe the smile off my face. It was the best practice ever. I love when I get my butt kicked.

“To be honest, I regret letting you spar earlier, but you seemed… determined.” He grasps my hand and pulls me to my feet. “I also knew Jiro would not injure you.”

Jiro strips down to his bare chest and throws his shirt into the auto-hamper to be cleaned. I’m mesmerized by how striking he is, and I’m unable to look away. Not only is Jiro built in a way that only comes from constant exercise but the tattoos on his chest and shoulders are a complete shock to me. My feet move without thinking, and completely forgetting myself, I walk over to him. I don’t know anyone with tattoos (except Sakai), but I love them and have always wanted some of my own, though Aunt Kimie would disown me.

“Ah, beautiful.” It takes all my effort to stop from reaching out and touching him. Instead, I pull my hand to my mouth to halt a sigh. The colors swirl up over his chest, grazing his neck and falling over the top of his shoulders. Motifs of green and brown. Is that grass and trees? And the Sakai family kamon, three-petaled flower ring, in the center of his back. “A forest and your family crest. Wow.”

He stares hard at me, trying to decide if I approve or not. He’s not showing the least amount of embarrassment for being half-naked and exposed, and I’m certainly not going to complain. “It’s fields of rice bordered by a forest and, yes, the Sakai family crest.” He twists at the waist to show his upper back again. The motif is etched on his upper shoulders as well.

“But you’re so young.”

“You sound like my father,” he says with a laugh. My face falls. “I’m twenty-two. If I want tattoos, I get them. I started when I was fourteen.”

Sakai has tattoos as well. Perhaps I should be watching surveillance footage for tattoo parlors in Ku 6 during my next fact-finding session.

“Well, they’re lovely. I’ve always loved tattoos.” And Jiro’s body tattooed is not bad either. A chill goes through me and raises goosebumps on my arms as he turns to collect a new shirt from his bag.

Beautiful, indeed.