Revealed – Chapter 11

The next day in the dōjō, Sanaa enters around one-fifteen PM while Jiro waits, sitting cross-legged against the wall and going through messages on his tablet.

She closes the door behind her and kicks off her shoes at the corner of the mats. This is the third time he’s noticed how precise her actions are, the way she holds the door as it closes, not letting it slam, or the way she clasped her hands in front of her when she flirted with him on New Year’s Eve, and how she always kept the proper amount of distance between them yesterday.

“I’m sorry I’m late. The trains were not on my side today.” She sets her bag down next to his and sighs before stretching her arms.

“That’s okay. I wasn’t sure what time to expect you. Did you eat?”

“Yes,” she says, nodding. “Quickly.”

She smiles down at him weakly and glances around the room, her head pausing at each corner, noting the cameras before she steps back from him.

Jiro grumbles under his breath. Curse the gods! He forgot those damned cameras are everywhere, and he won’t be able to talk with her. She straightens her posture and ices up her features. The weak smile is absent from her face, and she’s rearranged her expression as neutrally as possible. He can still tell she’s annoyed by the way her jaw is clenched.

He wanted to chat with her before beginning because he has a lot more questions than he did the day before. Last night, instead of talking to Jiro face to face about everything that happened, Sakai messaged after he went to bed.

“Sanaa will be working every morning. She is released for lunch at noon and is then to meet you every day at 1pm. No exceptions. Please make sure to send her home by 5pm so she can rest or continue working. Sakai.”

Reading the message made Jiro’s stomach clench. Released? Is he imprisoning her or something? What is she working on that requires so much attention?

“Will we warm up today before getting started?” she asks. “I know from experience my muscles will be tight if I don’t stretch enough.”

“Yes, we’ll always warm up before getting started. Maybe kata until we work up a sweat.”

“Okay, you choose.” She leans over to rummage in her bag, and Jiro’s head dips so he can get a good look at her ass. Nice. “Jiro, do you mind if I wear an undershirt while working out in here? This room is warm, and we haven’t begun yet.” She whips her long locks up a quick knot. Jiro swallows in a suddenly dry throat.

“Whatever you’re most comfortable in.”

“Good. I came prepared. I love karate but we always practice in gi. I find them constricting.” She starts to unbutton her Nishikyō gray tunic, and Jiro busies himself putting his tablet in his bag. “If I could, I’d practice in my underwear.”

She laughs, a nervous tint to her voice forcing Jiro to glance up at her, and yes, she’s blushing. He can see red skin blossoming along her collarbone, because now she’s only in her undershirt from the waist up. She turns from him, and he swears she mumbles, “Shut up, Sanaa,” under her breath.

This is going to be more difficult than he thought it would be. She’s uncomfortable and nervous, and with sexual innuendo flying out of her mouth, being professional will be difficult.

“When was the last time you were in your karate dōjō?” he asks, not looking, really not looking at her chest or hips. Keep eye contact, Jiro.

A genuine smile crosses her face for a moment. “I’m there every morning, but, no, I haven’t practiced in months. I’m afraid I don’t move a lot. I like to be active, but my job requires I sit and analyze.”

Okay, this is good. She’s business-like but willing to talk to him even with the cameras in the room. He walks over to the rack of wooden swords, taking off his tunic and setting it aside. He’s wearing a black shirt underneath and will lose that at some point during practice. This room is always hot. Grabbing two swords, he brings them back to her.

“What’s your job?”

He hands her the sword and she takes it, dipping her head and tapping her foot.

“Um, hmmm…” She twirls the sword around on its tip, mulling over his question, and not making eye contact. She must know people can read her easily.

“Are you a secret agent or something? Will you have to kill me if you tell me?”

She picks up her head and smiles at him. “I work for your uncle. Sort of a… personal assistant?”

“You don’t seem sure about that.” He gestures to the mats, ushering her towards the center so they can get started and talk at the same time.

“I’m not, to be honest. I analyze a lot of data — records and videos — and I report my findings back to him. I’ve only been doing this job since the beginning of the year, so I’m not sure how else to describe my work.”

How is he going to figure this girl out? Sakai’s got her doing some sort of secret work, and she can’t talk about it. He should know though. He’s Sakai’s successor. What are they holding back from him?

“What did you do before that?”

“I worked for the Colonization Committee as an engineer, specializing in housing developments for Yūsei. My dream job.” She sighs and distracts herself by stretching her shoulders again. “But not anymore.”

“I see.” Jiro glances up at the cameras, a powerful ache building in his chest. Whatever she’s doing now is not what she should be doing. What he’s doing is not what he should be doing either. They are both stuck at the mercy of adults who make the rules.

But, in here, in his dōjō, Jiro can show her something he loves, something that brings him peace, makes his heart race and body sweat, and they can do this together in full view of his father, observing from the other room.

“Let me teach you how to sword fight, Sanaa. I know it’s a little scary, but I think you’ll like it.”

She nods at him, smiling down at the sword in her hand. She twirls it again before lifting it from the floor. The sword is almost as long as she is tall, and the slight difference highlights her petite stature. If someone were to attack her with sheer force, no amount of karate would be enough. He needs to teach her the sword, if only to give her another way to defend herself. How is he going to teach this tiny girl to attack others? He’s not even sure if she will.

“I’m willing to try, Jiro. I have nothing to lose.”

—-

Asa’s tempura restaurant sits empty tonight. Owning a business like a restaurant and never knowing when you’ll have a full house must be interesting. Jiro always has a ton of work to do. The frequency only changes by the seasons. Instead of sitting at home tonight working, he’s sitting in an empty booth eating vegetable tempura. Yoichi hasn’t been home for a week, so he had no way of inviting himself to Izakaya Tanaka. Usagi is out tonight, as is Oyama. Even Beni is out with her parents.

Jiro doesn’t mind eating alone. Quiet time with no distractions is a good time to attend to business. His inbox is always thirty messages deep with correspondence he needs to deal with. The list of work is never-ending. When he finishes responding to one, another message arrives.

Jiro shuts off his tablet and stares out the window. He can’t stop thinking about Sanaa and how well she did in practice today. He wasn’t hard on her but wasn’t easy either. When she did something wrong, he was quick to tell her so and then suggest changes to make things better. He could be nicer about giving constructive criticism but didn’t want to coddle her like she asked him not to. Regardless, she took it well and left the dōjō around five with a smile on her face. He was so close to asking her out to dinner. He stepped towards her, and his mouth was open, but she waved and left before he could say anything.

“Good to see you again, Jiro.” Asa slides into the booth across from him, and he braces himself to not sigh. It’s her restaurant. He can’t tell her to get lost.

“Evening, Asa.” He returns his eyes to his tablet.

“No Usagi tonight? Where is that rabbit?”

Jiro smiles. Asa may be way too girly and gossipy for him, but she has a good sense of humor. “He had other plans, and I doubt he would appreciate being called ‘rabbit.’”

“Translations are a bitch. I could call you ‘second son’ Jiro or you could call me ‘morning.’” The side of her mouth peaks right under a wink. “Or…” She leans forward propping her chin on her palm and tapping her short, black-painted nails against her cheek. “You could see me in the morning.”

Now, he can’t help but sigh. He always knew this was coming.

“Think about it. We’re both busy people. I don’t need a ‘relationship’ and neither do you.”

Jiro wants to laugh because the idea is preposterous. He imagines her naked and doesn’t even get a hard-on because nothing can erase her personality. But no smiles or laughs because then she would think he was flirting with her.

“I’m not sure you know what I need.”

“I’m pretty sure I do.” Her foot under the table rubs up against his and he freezes. “I get off at midnight. Why don’t you stick around? My apartment is right around the corner, and I’ll treat you to a nightcap.”

This is the most blatant she’s ever been. She seems all innocent but really she’d lure him to her apartment, get him drunk, they’d have sex, and she’d tell everyone in the ward about how they’re now a ‘thing.’

Asa is right across from him, but Sanaa’s presence sits next to him. He’d much rather have nothing with Sanaa than have something with Asa, a girl who would never understand him. Asa’s the kind of girl who likes to be in control. She’d tell him where to be, who to talk to, what to do, and to give up his katana because it frightens her. Jiro’s sure a relationship with her wouldn’t be worth the time and effort.

In fact, he should make this pretty clear so he can keep coming here and not endure these flirtations anymore.

“No thanks, Asa. I know you’re interested in me, but the feeling’s not mutual. Sorry.”

She sits back and crosses her arms but maintains her smile. “It doesn’t have to be mutual. Think about it.”

Jiro sits in stunned silence as she gets up and leaves with a wink and a giggle. So she wants to sleep with him even if he’s not into her? She must be pretty hard up for sex. Letting out a deep breath, he rubs his face and looks at the remains of his dinner and saké.

Why did he come here again? He’d rather be alone than deal with Asa.

Next time he’ll stay home.

—-

“So, Jiro, where do you live? Here in Ku 6?” Sanaa asks.

“Yes, with my brother about six blocks from here. My parents live in the same building two floors up, but I moved out with him when he was assigned new quarters.”

Today is an exact repeat of yesterday, but this time, Sanaa is five minutes earlier. Still, she closes the door, careful to not let it slam, kicks off her shoes and joins him on the side. Same hair tie. Same style of black undershirt. Jiro’s heart beats swiftly when he realizes this is not an illusion. She will come here every day.

“And you grew up here?”

“Yes, of course. My whole family lives here except for a few cousins of mine that have jobs in other parts of the city.”

“That sounds nice. To have your family so close by.”

“It’s a blessing and a curse.” He loves them, but they have been nothing but pains lately.

“I bet. I live with my aunts. I love them, but I can’t always escape them when I want to.” She looks down at the mat, pressing her big toe into the material and watching it spring back. Her toenails are painted dark red, but they’re chipped and peeling.

The back of Jiro’s head is hot with the weight of his father’s observation. He keeps wanting to open his mouth and speak more, but he can’t get involved.

She sighs heavily and looks at him, but they’re both frozen, and when she’s sure he’s not going to continue the conversation, she rearranges her body to become a wall, concrete and cold.

“Shall I grab swords for us? There’s no need for you to always handle everything. I’m the student. I can help.” Sanaa breaks off eye contact with him and walks to the rack. Jiro raises his head to the camera in the corner and gives his father a deathly stare in the back room. “Is there anything I should know about picking out a wooden sword? Is there one you like in particular?”

Her hand grazes the top of each one, her fingers dancing along the grips. Jiro’s voice is gone, stolen from him.

“Are they color coded for a reason? By weight?”

“Yes!” he barks, and she turns around in surprise. He was suddenly so loud. “You should always choose a green one. I’m more comfortable with the red or purple.”

Don’t smile at her, Jiro. Keep it professional.

Their next day of practice is harder than the last.

“How long have you been training?” she asks.

“Since I could hold a sword.”

Don’t smile at her, Jiro. Keep it professional.

“I would have loved to see that, a little boy holding a sword in the dōjō.” She smiles, her eyes trained on the floor, softly staring into his past. “I bet you were adorable.” A blush climbs along her neck to her cheeks, and she clears her throat. “Anyway, did your father teach you?”

“Yes, he did.”

She nods her head, tapping her foot at the same time. “Father-son time.”

This is beyond awkward. Sanaa’s trying so hard to talk to him, and he’s forced to keep her at a distance, but he wants to talk to her. Even this small amount of chit-chat could be construed the wrong way, though.

“He told me this morning he’ll join us tomorrow so you can see basic strikes and blocks. Every day we’ll practice some kata, but I think you’ll gain the most knowledge, and learn how to fight, from actual exercises. We’ll start with defense.”

“Okay, Jiro.” She squares up her shoulders and loses the smile on her face. “Fine by me.”

“Just try your best to follow along, and anything you’re struggling with, we’ll do more of tomorrow.”

Today, their fifth day of practice, Sanaa asks him about school, and he wants to sit down and tell her about his love of astronomy and space flight. She’s an engineer and used to work for the Colonization Committee. He’s certain they have a lot in common on this topic, but once again, his father is in the back room and will be out shortly to join them on the mats.

After a moment of silence, Sanaa doesn’t press him harder for details about his schooling. She seems to understand there will only be a short conversation before practice from now on.

Jiro closes his eyes for a moment as she walks to the rack for swords, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He’s looking forward to critiquing her stance while his father teaches her. He can touch her, feel her soft skin and stand close to her, all in the name of ‘adjustments.’ It’s embarrassing how much he loves it.

Tonight, he’s going to go to Izakaya Tanaka and hopefully she’ll show up. After watching her practice the last three days, he wants to get to know her better, and he’s willing to go against his father and Sakai’s warnings about Sanaa being off-limits, if only to talk to her without being watched the entire time. He just needs to know if they’re compatible.

It took several days to convince Yoichi that Jiro could come along and not interfere with his date. Their conversation was a thoroughly frustrating experience. Never before had they spent so many evenings doing separate things, and as happy as he is for his brother, he also misses him, misses their regular conversations and usual back and forth banter. The apartment is lonely at night and Yoichi often doesn’t come home till late, many times with Miko in tow. They sleep in while Jiro is up early to attend to business, living on opposite schedules now.

But hopefully tonight, Jiro can turn things around for everyone.