Revealed – Chapter 13

Five more days pass with five more afternoons in the dōjō and Sanaa gets progressively more locked up each time. Today, she comes in the door at one-oh-five and doesn’t even talk to him. She stares at the floor while removing her outer shirt and pulling her hair up in a knot, then goes straight for the swords without any preamble.

“Is everything all right, Sanaa?”

“What? Oh… sorry. My mind is preoccupied.”

“Will you be able to concentrate on practice?”

“Yes, of course,” she says, stiffening up, and he mentally kicks himself. He hadn’t meant it that way.

“I didn’t mean to call into question your abilities. I just…” He stops, letting the sentiment trail off. “Would you like to take a break beforehand? You can talk to me, if you like.”

Her eyes slip to the cameras, before dipping her head down. “You don’t need to humor me anymore. I understand everything,” she whispers, directing her lips at the floor. “Let’s just start. I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

Rage begins to build up in Jiro’s chest, starting way down in his gut and moving north. She’s got him all wrong. And he’s been so reluctant to talk to her in front of the cameras, he can’t explain himself at all. His father and Sakai watch every move, and if they see him becoming too familiar with her, they won’t be happy.

He probably shouldn’t push Sanaa so hard, but after only two weeks of practicing every day, she’s already the best student he’s ever trained. Her ability angers him in ways it shouldn’t, angers him that he has to teach her every day instead of working with her on whatever secret Sakai is keeping. He keeps trying to break this hard outer-shell she’s developed and it never goes away. The barrier only gets stronger.

He’s been going to Izakaya Tanaka every night, and she still hasn’t shown up there. Maybe if he can meet her outside of the dōjō, this façade will melt away. But here, she detaches her emotions during every afternoon session, staring straight through him. Thinking back on New Year’s Eve, he was certain she was interested in him. Her smile, the way her eyes shined as she flirted with him — those have all been painfully absent. All business.

Ice up your heart, Jiro. She’s off-limits, and you can’t get distracted. Sakai was right again. She is distracting.

She doesn’t like sparring with him, but today he’s forcing her into a duel. Sanaa won’t learn defense without actually defending herself. It’s one thing to practice the movements, and it’s another to do them when the sword is coming at you.

She’s doing well again even though she’s obviously nervous. Her hands shake when she’s standing still and her neck is slick with sweat under the hurried knot of hair. He’s avoiding looking at her slim, little body, the way she never looks at his tattoos anymore. It’s like he doesn’t exist from the neck down. He wants her to look. Why won’t she look?

“Again,” he directs, as they pause for a moment, her wooden sword at her side. “You managed to block effectively, but you need to keep your feet light and stop planting them. You’re the wind, not a tree.”

Sanaa smiles and laughs, and his heart loses its icy sheen a little. “I didn’t realize you were so philosophical.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Her face drops the happy smile as quickly as it showed up. “I apologize. Of course I don’t know much about you. I’m your student, nothing more. Should we continue?”

Gods dammit. He’s telling himself to close up his heart all the time, and he could learn this from her. Fire and ice. She’s extremes at all times. This is another thing that angers him. He pushes her, and she never breaks.

Well, he’ll see to that.

Jiro shoves his hair behind his ears. “Yes. This time from the right.”

He lunges, and she blocks but stumbles under the force and quickness of his attack. He’s taught her how to fall back and away from the sword, but she’s still struggling with it because she’s a fighter. Her instincts are fueled by her karate background. Charging into a hand or fist is a lot less damaging than a katana.

His anger is right below the surface, electrifying his arms and legs, making them swifter than she’s ready for.

Alarm dances across her face, but Jiro doesn’t break. It’s time to end this. He’ll scare her away, and that way he won’t have to see her every day. Seeing means wanting something he can’t have. If she’s gone, the temptation will be gone. He’ll go pick things up with Asa as much as the idea repulses him. She said she’d be fine as a side fling, nothing serious.

Jiro and Sanaa’s eyes meet, and she panics at the sheer menace on display across his features. Without even thinking, Jiro aims his sword and stabs her hard in the left shoulder, so hard the force knocks her off her feet and she hits the mats. All the breath leaves her body, but she doesn’t let go of the sword. It bounces off the mats next to her.

“Shit, Sanaa! Haven’t I been teaching you to fall away from the sword when you see it coming? How could you be so careless?”

Sanaa crawls up to her knees, her head hung over, and Jiro can’t see her face. She sucks in a few slow breaths, tentatively touching the soft spot in her shoulder, right under the blade. The skin is already turning red.

Oh no. What has he done? He tried to drive her away because he can’t have her, but no! Don’t leave.

Silently, Sanaa rises from her knees, places the sword on the mats in front of her, turns and walks out of the dōjō without so much as a glance at him.

Perhaps she’ll walk out and quit right now? His heart races as he swings around and looks about the dōjō. She didn’t put her shoes on or grab her bag. The bathroom door click echoes down the hall. She’ll be back.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing, Jiro?” Koichi opens the back surveillance door and strides out to face his youngest son. “I told you to teach her, not wound her!”

“I… I… I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. Find someone else to teach her.” Jiro turns his back on his father and walks to the towels.

“You know there’s no one else. I’d train her myself, but I don’t have the time.” Koichi folds his arms across his chest. “This is because you really do like her, don’t you? What you said the other night wasn’t just hypothetical.”

“I’m not allowed to like her,” he growls.

“Indeed you’re not. At least, according to Mark…”

Jiro stops wiping his face and eyes his father.

“What if I made a deal with you?” Koichi says, tilting his head and looking hard at his son.

“What kind of deal could you possibly make with me over this?” His hand waves at the door Sanaa walked out of a moment before.

“I had a long conversation with your mother the other night.” Koichi clasps Jiro’s shoulders and looks him in the eyes. “What happened last year with Melanie was unfortunate, but we want you to know that we haven’t lost our trust in you. We love you, very much, and you’ve been an ideal son, especially putting up with everything Mark wants out of you, to be head of this clan someday. Sanaa is a complicated part of that, too, now, though I can’t talk about why.”

Jiro closes his eyes before rage overtakes him again.

“This is what we’ll do.” Koichi jostles Jiro’s shoulders to snap him back. “I’ll give you the chance, to train her and get to know her. You can do whatever you like. Talk to her. Ask her out on dates. Figure it out for yourselves instead of us demanding some sort of forced behavior out of you both.”

“But…” Jiro points to the cameras. Even if his father approves, Sakai does not, and he’s watching and listening in.

“I’ll take care of them. We’ll turn them off or erase the footage. I’ll handle it with Mark. He hasn’t viewed the recordings in days anyway.” Koichi pulls Jiro into a quick hug, then steps back. “You cannot let her leave here today and not come back. Do whatever you have to do, but she needs to learn this. She can’t quit. It’s important.”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you yet. Soon. Just know that if you start some sort of relationship with her, you better be committed. She’s a permanent part of our lives now. Whether you make this work or not.”

Koichi squeezes Jiro’s shoulder, nods, and returns to the surveillance room.

She’s a permanent part of his life now. But how?

Jiro takes a few long breaths and pulls on his shirt before the dōjō door squeaks open. Sanaa walks straight to him at the mat. Her hair is down again, finger combed and wavy from being pulled back for the last two hours, and she doesn’t hide her teary face. She went to the bathroom to cry and compose herself, but her posture is strong and her lower lip is cemented into place. He glances at her shoulder, and the spot where he stabbed her is bright red, tinged blue on the borders. He can feel the pain in his own shoulder.

He’ll never hurt her again.

“Jiro,” she begins before pausing to bow at him. He steps back in horror. “I apologize for not paying better attention. Maybe… maybe I’m not cut out for this. I should go to Sakai and tell him I should do something else. I am clearly a very bad sword fighter.” She laughs lightly while gesturing to her shoulder, swipes at her nose, and sighs. When Jiro beat Eriko in the dōjō, he didn’t even touch her, and she ran from the room crying, swearing she’d never see him again. And she didn’t.

“It’s my fault,” he responds, but she waves at him.

“I was tired and distracted. I’ve never seen you angry before and…” Now she can’t look at him and instead looks at her feet.

His heart beats at a rapid pace, and his hearing rings. “Did I scare you? I’m sorry. I wasn’t angry at you. I swear.”

“You confused me, that’s all.” She shrugs her shoulders but winces at the pain. Guilt twists inside of him so deep he wants to spill his guts and just tell her everything.

He steps close to her, and she shrinks back before his fingers lightly graze the bruise on her shoulder. Goosebumps erupt on her skin, and his eyes follow them up her neck to the blush unfurling to her cheeks, almost to her nose dotted with freckles. Her blush response is one of the sexiest things he’s ever seen, watching her body respond to him in a primal way she can’t even control.

“I’m sorry about this. It’s my fault. I take full responsibility for you in these walls at the very least, and it’s unacceptable for me to hurt you in any way. I’ll be more careful from here on out.” He has the urge to lean in and kiss the bruise, take away the pain, but he steps back.

“You will not quit, Sanaa. You’re better than you think you are, and one little injury isn’t going to stop you from being even better than me. Right?”

She smiles a little, just a little. Maybe he knows her better than he thought he did. She’s strong and competitive. She was the best engineer she could be, beating out five others for her dream job, and he’s sure he can inspire her to be a great sword fighter too.

“Perhaps. But maybe I’m done for the day.”

He nods, walks to the rack and grabs her shirt, handing it to her. When she winces again trying to get her arm into her sleeve, he helps her by cradling her elbow, pulling the shirt around, and is rewarded with another blush. His pants are becoming uncomfortable.

“Thanks. I guess I should put something on that when I get home, right?”

“If you have something, yes. If not, put some ice on it, okay?”

She nods and grabs her bag being careful not to sling the strap over her shoulder like she usually does. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything. I want you to know you can always talk to me, even here. We’re together enough.” He smiles and raises his eyebrows, and she laughs before stopping and facing him. “Don’t worry about them watching. Let’s just be ourselves. It won’t get me in any trouble.”

“Okay. I’d like that.” She smiles at him, and his breath leaves him in relief. “What made you so angry? You were fine one moment and so gone the next.” Her whole face tips up to watch his, her eyes searching all of his features. He already loves those eyes. They’re keen and responsive, open and honest. He can read all her emotions in the fluttering of her eyelids, the size of her pupils.

Truth, Jiro. As much as possible.

“Our circumstances, but things have changed. I promise.” He places his hand on the small of her back and lightly ushers her to the door. “Tomorrow, when you come back, let’s make sure to take breaks during our sessions and unwind a little. I think you… I think we both could use it.”

She sighs, her whole body deflating, before her smile returns. “I don’t know how to unwind. Perhaps you’ll have to teach me that, too.”

“Deal. No worries. I can teach you anything. I’m sure of it.”

Her blush deepens, and her eyes follow the curves of his muscles, through the thin material of his shirt, down his chest and over his stomach. It’s the first time she’s looked at him properly since the time she saw his tattoos. And she has a dirty mind. He can tell from the little O her mouth has become.

So this is the key to her heart and body — just being himself. That may be hard to do.

He doesn’t even know who he is anymore.

—-

Jiro whips into Izakaya Tanaka at the speed of light, quickly loses his jacket to his spot at the bar, and slings his bag across the back of the chair. Miko’s head bobs along the back of the bar, unloading saké into a refrigerated cabinet, before she pops up with a smile, and comes around to greet him.

“Hey Jiro, it’s good to see you. Your brother will be here soon.” Miko leans in and gives him a kiss on the cheek, and she feels so familiar, like she’s been a part of his life for some time.

“It’s good to see you, too. So, do you still want to set me up with Sanaa?”

“Well, yes, actually,” she says, her face widening in surprise. “I thought you forgot about her.”

“I gave her some thought the last few days. I enjoyed my short conversation with her on New Year’s Eve, and she seemed nice. I thought you should invite her here some night. I’ll make sure I come, but maybe we shouldn’t tell her you’re trying to fix her up?” He sits down, and Sono clasps hands with him before setting a carafe of saké and a cup on the bar.

“You think?” Miko’s eyebrows draw together. “I don’t know. She could go either way. If just invite her here, she may put me off in favor of work. But if I tell her I want her to meet someone, she may avoid it anyway because she doesn’t think she has the time.”

Sanaa has plenty of excuses not to come to Izakaya Tanaka for the foreseeable future, and Jiro doesn’t want to be one of them. He’s certain if she knows he’s here every night, she’ll get nervous and dodge him because this is outside of their relationship in the dōjō. This situation will work best if he sits and waits and has Miko working on his side. He can be patient, especially after what happened today.

“Don’t tell her. Just keep asking her to come. I’ll be here.”

“Okay,” she says, haltingly with a suspicious smile on her face. “What’s up with you? You’re so happy today.”

“Do you have time to sit down for a drink? Come on. Join me, and tell me all about Sanaa.”