Revealed – Chapter 10

The first thing in Jiro’s mind when he walks through the dōjō door is to act like he knew Sakai and Sanaa were coming, pretend he was prepared for this, not some devious trick laid out by two old men looking to embarrass him. In fact, he’s going to bluff. He’s going to smile and not give Sakai the satisfaction of having blindsided him.

“Hello, Sanaa. It’s nice to see you again.” He looks straight at her, and they make eye contact for a brief moment before a blush overtakes her neck. Damn. He forgot how much he liked that.

“Hi, Jiro.” Her voice is calm and polite, but she glances up at Sakai, burning hatred and anger flashing on her face. Sakai blindsided her too. Her fists clench a few times at her side. She’s ready to hit somebody, and Jiro has a good guess who.

“Father, they’re here!” Jiro doesn’t take his eyes off her. He’s afraid this is all just a ruse, and she’ll walk out of here today, and he’ll never see her again.

“Well, well, Mark,” Koichi says, joining them all on the mats. He rubs at his scar and smiles at Sanaa. “She is Junko’s girl, for sure. The same face from when we were little.”

Wait a minute. His family knows her family? Jiro’s been involved in the family business his entire life and never heard her name before New Year’s Eve. She’s shifting from one foot to the other while both Koichi and Sakai nod at each other. He hates when adults do this, ignore the younger people. Sakai clears his throat, and the abrupt sound makes Sanaa jump. Jiro would demand more respect for Sanaa’s feelings from Sakai if he didn’t think he’d pay for the insubordination in a significant way. She’s as taken aback as he is but unable to hide her annoyance.

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

So the bastard is springing this on her, right here and now? Unbelievable. What the hell are these old men up to?

Sanaa swallows hard and nods her head. Jiro expected her to protest and run out but she’s staying put. With a long sigh, she turns to Sakai for reassurance, and he lays his hand on her shoulder. On New Year’s Eve, Sakai said Sanaa didn’t know him yet, but now a quiet understanding sits between them. Putting together the pieces of this puzzle will be difficult.

“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.”

Sanaa’s pale and green face turns to the floor as Sakai baits Jiro. Sakai intends to make Jiro the bad guy, the guy who’ll humiliate Sanaa and make her never want to date him.

“She has her father’s determination.” Sakai directs his hard eyes on Jiro.

Fine. It’s not like a relationship would ever work out under these ridiculous circumstances anyway.

“Hmmm, we’ll see.” Jiro turns and walks to the wall of wooden swords. He’ll make her fight, and he’ll teach her like he’s supposed to. It’s over between them before it even starts.

He takes two of the smaller swords and tosses one to Sanaa which she drops on the ground. Gods, he can really be an ass when he needs to be and seeing her face erupt in a blush clogs his heart with even more guilt. She picks up the sword, and as she’s about to come into a ready position, her eyes widen.

“It’s real wood.” Her fingers follow the grain all the way to the tip, dipping into every dent along the way, and a chill rips through him. Her touch is as light as her breath.

“We’ve had them for centuries.” Jiro smiles at her, 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.”

She holds the sword in her hand, hefting and gauging the weight before a maniacal grin crosses her face. Sanaa takes a few steps back, her eyes fixed on him.

Jiro has two options. He can stop this now and talk to her about starting from a base practice, no jumping straight in, or he can throw her to the mats and find out if she can fight like his father suggested.

Jiro lunges forward, and her sword clatters to the floor. Their first duel didn’t take long. He places his sword back in the obi belt tied around his waist and waits for her to pick the sword back up again, which she does.

Just as he’s about to halt practice, she attacks him. He draws his sword and cuts down on her attack, watching her slip behind him and to his right. Oh! She has potential. She bounces on her toes ready to go again, but he comes too fast for her this time, and her sword hits the floor again. Jiro’s three subsequent slashes meet air as she dodges out of the way. She passes the quick and limber test.

Impressive. He’s never fought against someone so small and nimble before. Usagi may be an inch shorter but he has more bulk than Jiro. If she learns this, she might be a worthy opponent.

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

She stops and bows to Jiro and Koichi. One thing’s for sure, she practices polite dōjō etiquette. “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 she narrows hers at him, her hands balled into fists again.

“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 her, his heart beating so high in his chest it might as well be in his brain. At this distance, sweat over the sweet tang of oranges invades his space. Did she eat one for lunch, or does she always smell like that? She’s frozen in place, looking straight at him, defying him, but her pulse races at her temples and her eyes are dilated. Attraction or fear?

“You will learn,” he says.

“Possibly the hard way,” Koichi says.

“We’ll see about that.” She takes a step away from him, turning and picking up the sword. “Again.”

This time Jiro comes at her from above and doesn’t spare the force. He’s strong and could grab her and pin her arms down, overwhelm her, but he wasn’t raised to be that kind of man, even in a fight. It’s bad enough he’s in this dishonorable situation, an experienced sword fighter against a smaller opponent. She blocks left, then right, and parries a lunge, but he’s fast and touches his sword light against her side, wanting to end this but not hurt her.

A small growl of anger erupts from Sanaa as she tumbles away from the sword and kicks out at his feet on the way down, catching him by surprise. He loses his balance and falls right on top of her, their swords flying in opposite directions.

“Get off of me!” With one hand on his face and the other on his chest, she pushes him hard, and he laughs that she can’t move him but still tries. She almost lifts her legs to help push him away, and he laughs even harder.

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

“Like it, huh?” she asks, and he almost tells her how much. A lot. “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.”

Hmmm, he could use her karate knowledge to help her learn faster, if only he were more skilled at fighting hand-to-hand.

“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.” She places her hands on her hips and turns from Sakai. A beat of uncomfortable silence blankets them before Sakai jerks his chin at Koichi to continue.

“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 into 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?” She shrugs her shoulders. “Why would I need to use a sword? What’s the point, Mark?”

Koichi’s eyes widen before he clears his throat. “She calls you by your first name?” Koichi laughs again. “My, my.”

Why would the gods do this to Jiro? They dropped a strong, talented, pretty girl in his dōjō, a girl who dares to call his uncle by his first name, and they made her unattainable. What did he do in a past life to deserve this?

Her face breaks out in a smile directed at his father, and Jiro’s insides burn with jealousy. He wants to be the one to make her happy.

“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.”

Jiro’s head swims with all he’s learning about Sanaa. His family knows her. She didn’t grow up here in Ku 6, and she’s almost entirely Westernized, but she practices karate. She’s daring — determined even — with very little fear. Maybe she’ll change if she holds a real sword? He’s not sure.

This is a challenge worthy of his afternoons.

Sakai turns and leaves her to Koichi and Jiro for the rest of the day. They start by showing her how to sit properly in seiza, explain how to dress, and Jiro demonstrates the beginning kata while his father narrates each step. He does his best to block out the room from his mind, empty his thoughts, but it’s difficult when she’s watching him. Every emotion is written all over her face. Does she know she’s so transparent? Well, Jiro’s not going to tell her and give up his advantage.

She nods her head as he returns the blade to his obi belt, taking in every detail like a scientist examining an interesting experiment. She’s filing away each move and nuance.

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

Sanaa’s face flattens in panic, and her forehead beads with sweat. Jiro is going straight to his father tonight to rip him in half for doing this to him. And Sakai will pay for this too. Someday.

Now is not the time for thoughts of revenge. He should be confident for Sanaa. They flirted with each other once, but that’s behind them now. He can at least try not to be a complete bastard to her.

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

She bites her lip to stop from smiling back and shakes her head.

“I want to learn.” She lifts her head and steps back from him. “Please don’t coddle me.”

“Okay by me. Let’s begin.”

—-

Jiro returns to the building the evening after his first practice with Sanaa, and no one is home. His mother, father, and brother are gone, and Sakai’s door goes unanswered. He’d check on Beni, but he’d have to contend with the possibility of Risa, so he avoids their door. Usagi and Oyama are gone as well.

With no one around, he orders curry delivery and sits on the couch staring into space, rewinding the last moments of practice in his head, until his food arrives. Sanaa loves his tattoos, breathlessly loves them. She almost touched him, and if she had, he would have lost his mind with frustration.

Tattoos are a normal part of his life, everyone but his mother and Kentaro has them, even Yoichi. He’s been drawing his entire life, imagining scenes and putting pen to tablet to create thousands of memories. But his tattoos, his own drawings on his skin, are special to him. He spent years poring over photos and videos of Old Japan, everything that survived the wars and the Decline. He watched every old movie, studied the documents on his family and the noble clans. He smiles remembering the time he watched samurai films every night for an entire week with his brother and father. Mariko would pick up her reading and spend the nights in bed until they were done.

He fell in love with how green and beautiful Old Japan was — the forests, rice paddies, and gardens — and decided he would draw them for his own shoulder and back tattoos. When Sakai introduced him to Manami, their tattoo artist, she became the first person outside of the family he showed his drawings to. The work done on his shoulders and chest took several years, and he loved them. Melanie, his ex-girlfriend, never remarked on his tattoos. She saw his face and his dick, and that was about it. He never even showed her his drawings.

How is he going to handle Sanaa tomorrow? He came home tonight full of rage and ready to tear someone apart, but as he sits on the couch and thinks about Sanaa working so hard to learn everything, he despairs instead. After the initial sparring, she avoided eye contact with him and only asked questions about what she didn’t understand. In the beginning of practice, he read her emotions, but she became detached from them. She shifted into learning-mode, logically following from one step to the next and not allowing her feelings to get in the way.

Jiro lets out a deep breath and relaxes into the couch. He’d like to fall asleep right here with a belly full of curry, but Yoichi may come back with Miko later, and he’d rather not witness how happy they are. Many weeks into the relationship and Jiro can tell Miko will be around to stay. His brother doesn’t commit like this if there isn’t a good chance at success.

Wait a minute. Miko. The first time he met Sanaa, she was with Miko and some tall blonde girl. Are they all friends? He’s been giving his brother a wide berth to establish a relationship, but now Jiro has a great idea… an excellent idea.

He’ll start inviting himself to Izakaya Tanaka — every night, if he can swing it. He’ll hang out at the izakaya, bring his tablet, and work. He’ll talk to Miko and find out what he can about Sanaa, try to gather the missing pieces of the puzzle. He needs to understand why she’s in his dōjō and will be every day from here on out. He’s pretty sure she doesn’t even know.

Maybe he’ll run into her there, and then, without the swords between them, she may loosen up a bit. He’d be able to talk to her and get to know her. If he has to spend every day with her, he should at least try to be friends.

Lover, friend, or enemy? Lover is probably out, and he’d rather have her as a friend than enemy. He’ll see how tomorrow goes.