Reunited – Chapter 12

We have come to an agreement on the use of the dōjō. We’re all eager to stretch out and have space for the first time in our lives, so now everyone wants a piece of the building. Mariko set up a group calendar on all of our tablets, and we block off time like the dōjō is a conference room back in Nishikyō. Jiro jumped in immediately and blocked off all afternoons for us, and now I have to fit in my trips to town in the mornings between breakfast and lunch.

In our new dōjō, there are no cameras to watch us, no back room for people to come and go from. The practice room is a large open space with thin, soft mats. The whole building is made of wood and large shōji doors on two sides open onto wooden decks that face the main house and away at the lawn. Skylights in the ceiling let in natural light. The inside is about twice the size of the old Itō dōjō so there’s plenty of space to run, jump, and fight, or watch others run, jump, or fight. Jiro, Usagi, and I work on iaido forms first and Kentaro joins us for sparring. We take turns picking teams and wail on each other until we fall over dead from exhaustion.

In the mornings, Helena and Dr. Volkova share the dōjō with Sakai, Lucy, Mariko, and Beni who all do yoga together. Yoga. I always wondered how Sakai stayed in shape. I had no idea one could be so ripped just from yoga, but I stopped by one morning before my appointments and Sakai was doing some sort of pose on his arms that blew me away. I sat and watched them all practice for a while. I want someone to teach me yoga.

After lunch, I come sprinting into the dōjō at high speed and leap onto the mats, expending as much crazy energy as I can in one single burst.

“Who’s ready to fight?” Jump! Jump! Jump! I can’t stop jumping. I spent all morning in meetings, and if I don’t exercise now, I’ll fall asleep, as I do most afternoons.

“I think you and Usagi should switch names.” Kentaro peels off his shirt and grabs his jō. My shinobijō is in our room next to Kazenoho. I don’t bring real weapons into the dōjō unless I’m by myself. It’s safer since I’m the least experienced of this bunch.

Jiro points to the mats, and I sigh, grab a wooden sword, and sit seiza. Meditation first, then fighting.

“Eh? What’s this? Sanaa fights?” Hiro stands at the door, his mouth wide open staring at me. “But that’s not right. Girls can’t fight.”

Jiro breaks into a loud laugh, throwing his head back. “Did you hear that, Sanaa? Girls can’t fight.” He pats me on the head, and I smack his hand away.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Hiro warns, waving his hand at me and my sword. “It’s forbidden.”

Everyone in the room freezes except Kentaro who swings his jō around and mutters, “This ought to be interesting.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath from way down in my abdomen and let it out slowly. “Hiro, come here.” Without looking I feel the mats squish under me, sinking under Hiro’s weight. “Sit seiza with me.” He sits down, and when I open my eyes, he’s leaning back and gaping at my tattoos. Jiro and Usagi are watching us both, arms crossed, and passive, though I know inside they’re both laughing.

“Hiro, one thing you should know about me is that no one forbids me to do anything.” He presses his mouth into a line across his little boy face and rubs his head. “Who says girls can’t fight?”

“Ehhh, Sanaa,” he cries, his shoulders falling. “I promised my parents I wouldn’t speak of Orihime unless they were with me.”

“Surely it’s not a secret if even you, an eight year old boy, knows it’s forbidden.”

“I’m almost nine.”

“An almost nine year old boy then. Out with it.”

He sighs. “The Koga kuroi ninjas forbid women to fight. They do not allow girls to join, and only men are allowed to carry swords on Orihime.”

“The black ninjas, ne?”

Jiro and Usagi both shrug their shoulders.

“Is it Fujiwara who only lets men carry swords?”

“Yes, Sanaa.”

Great. The first thing I learn about Fujiwara is he oppresses women. I’m sure that not allowing women to carry swords is only the tip of what women are banned from doing.

“Well, I’d like to learn more about the Koga later, but now I need to practice.” I twist my hair up and out of the way. “Would you like to stay and watch?”

“Can I? You’re not mad?”

“No, Hiro. I’m not mad.” I smile to reassure him and get up.

“Why do you have nogiku tattoos?”

It’s my turn to be surprised. “You know nogiku? Are there nogiku here?”

“Yes. In the prairies in the North there are wide fields of wildflowers, in the Nogusa-hara. It’s next to the Kōbuchi desert. There are many flowers there including the nogiku and kiku. Kiku is the national flower.”

Jiro and I smile at each other, before he shakes his head at me. I’m not supposed to tell these people of my lineage yet.

“I love wild chrysanthemum. In a way, I’m very much like them. Go sit.” I point off to the side, and Hiro sits with his back against the wall next to the rack of wooden swords.

When we first started training two weeks ago, I was nervous to hold a sword again. What if I had forgotten everything Jiro taught me? The fear is gone now. It’s so much fun to train. We don’t conduct formal tests, and we all have a good attitude about learning. We make fun of each other, make each other laugh and work hard, and I still remember how to do everything. I shouldn’t have worried about it. I don’t know why I do that to myself.

We warm up, stretching out our shoulders and arms while chatting about business. Usagi and Helena are going walking later. Kentaro invites himself along. Miko and Yoichi will be in town visiting another restaurant, and Jiro has made plans for a date night with them. I can’t wait, especially after my conversation with Lucy yesterday.

Two hours of fighting go by in the flash of swords, the clack of skirmishes. Kentaro versus me, long staff to short staff. I try to work with the jō at least once every session. Jiro and Usagi love to run and attack each other, and they chase each other out of the dōjō, into the garden, and around the building. Hiro laughs and picks sides, yelling at each in turn to pummel on the other one. Then it’s my turn — attack and defense, back and forth.

“When I come at you from the side,” Jiro instructs, circling around me, “try to anticipate where my sword will go and use a kick to knock me over or disarm me. Use your karate skills. Of course, now that I’ve said it, I’ll be watching for it.”

“She fights hand-to-hand too?” Hiro shakes his head and mutters something under his breath I don’t catch. It’s probably an epithet. “Are you sure you two are married?”

“Yes,” Jiro says, rolling his eyes. “She is definitely my wife.”

“And he’s definitely my husband.” I nod. Yes, definitely.

“She’s an excellent fighter. Anyone would be grateful to have her fight along side them.”

I blush and examine my toes on the mats.

“Hiro, we do things differently than you do,” Jiro says, “and you will find women and men from Earth lead equally if that’s their choice.”

I drop my sword on the mat and sit down next to it. “I think it’s time to stop for the day. Come. Let’s sit and cool down.”

“Sanaa, in another week, I thought we should start climbing again. Looking around at the houses here, we could practice in the abandoned neighborhoods.” Usagi hands me a towel, and when I look to Jiro, he nods as everyone sits down. Yay! It’s been ages since I last climbed. “You could climb up the outsides: gutters, balconies, or things stacked against buildings. We’ll also run across rooftops that may or may not be stable, and into windows with different catches. I have a feeling these skills will be useful here.”

“Ayiyi, she climbs too?” Hiro puts his head in his hands, and I snap him with the towel.

“Hiro, stop. I fight, I climb, I carry a sword, I negotiate, I lead, and I do what I damned well please. Get used to it.”

Jiro glances at me sideways. Sorry, Jiro, my dragon is heating up. I wonder how many other women are kept from learning to fight because of their sex.

“Great idea, Usagi,” he interrupts to get the conversation back on track. “One of the major disadvantages to teaching Sanaa ninjutsu in Nishikyō was I could only teach her so much in that environment.” Jiro reclines back on the mats. I lie right next to him, press the top of my head into the side of his chest, and we stare out the skylight together. “Usagi and I, Kentaro too, learned a ton of techniques we could never even use. My father and Mark taught me how to walk silently through water so as to not make waves or disturb fish.”

Kentaro bursts out laughing. “My father hated us for practicing in the pond at Shōfū-an. Do you have any idea how many fish I scared to death doing that?”

“Kentaro and I used to sneak up on each other all the time.” Jiro sits up and whips his towel at Kentaro, and Kentaro howls in mock pain.

Kentaro looks down at me for a long moment, a sadness washing over his face before he jumps up. “I think it’s time for a snack. Who wants to join me in raiding the kitchen?”

“Me!” We chime. I’m starving. I’ll eat and pass out till dinner.

When we get to the doors, I jump onto Jiro’s back. “Carry me, my love. I’m tired.”

“Sure. You’re so tiny. I’d like to put you in my pocket and carry you everywhere.” Everyone runs past us to the main house but Jiro hangs back. “You almost lost your temper with Hiro.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. There’s only so much I can take. He definitely doesn’t believe women can do as much as men.”

He hikes me up farther onto his back and starts walking. “He’s delusional, obviously, but you should try and get used to this. If one little eight year old thinks this way, you can only imagine what the adults are going to be like.”

Stubborn, set in their ways, and not at all adaptable. We’ll have our work cut out for us.