On the train to Ku 10, Sanaa sits across from Jiro and smiles at him, sweet and sincere. She’s relaxed, her legs crossed and hands folded in her lap, comfortable in her own skin and less tense, though still tired, the dark circles under her eyes like thumbprint bruises. Jiro’s heart beats rapidly as he smiles back. He hoped that once they were out of the dōjō, the barriers would melt away.
“Have you been to Ku 10, Sanaa?”