“Or your mouth.” Mikko laughs. “That’s a good fit for your foot, too.”
Nezume chuckles, and even Kyoko giggles. Mitsuka slides the door open and steps into a room filled with laughter.
“The Emperor has given me a special task,” he announces, obviously pleased.
“And what would that be?” Sensei’s eyes dance.
I’ll bet my second helping of dessert that he already knows.
“The Son of Heaven would like me to teach the Dragon Master a lesson. In the future he will show more care for the welfare of his students.” Mitsuka slaps his hand against his scabbard. “It is a task worthy of Onaku’s blade.”
I wish I could be there, but the way of the warrior has many paths. Not every road leads directly to the ocean. Nezume and Mitsuka will travel their different ways. The Bear will one day return to his cave by the sea while the Long-Tailed Rat scurries the castle corridors.
“I’ll walk with you as far as the castle keep gate,” Nezume says.
For once Sensei doesn’t stride ahead. He shuffles. This is hard for him, too. We walk in silence because truly important moments don’t need words to paint their picture. They hang in the mind forever, like an ancient and treasured scroll.
At the castle keep gate, the guards bow deep to Sensei. To Mitsuka. To Nezume, the prince’s swordsmanship tutor. And finally to us.
Samurai kids don’t like rules. We whine about the tea ceremony and complain about practice schedules. But now we’re glad to hide under the formalities of saying good-bye. It helps us pretend to be brave. We’re not afraid of ghosts or Dragons, but leaving a friend cuts like a ninja dagger; it sneaks up behind, slashing deep.
Sensei takes Nezume’s hands in his own and bows.
“Chi, jin, yu.” He bows again. “Meiyo.”
Wisdom, benevolence, courage.
And honor.
Sensei is proud, and Nezume grows taller beneath his gaze.
The rest of us form a line, ready to offer our own parting words, carefully chosen from Sensei’s teaching.
“A true samurai doesn’t need a sword,” says Yoshi.
We all knew he would say that. It’s the first lesson Sensei taught us, and Yoshi’s favorite ever since then.
“The point of a sword is very sharp.” Mikko prods Nezume in the ribs to remind him.
Kyoko says nothing. Taking her sword from her sash, she slices a twisted thread of snow-white hair and tucks it into Nezume’s kimono sleeve.
Taji goes next. “Just because you can’t see something doesn’t mean it’s not there,” he says. “We will always be standing beside you.”
Even Mitsuka has something to add. “A samurai should be prepared. Otherwise he might lose his trousers.”
The Bear can always make us all laugh and, remembering his big hairy legs, we laugh until it brings tears to our eyes. Now I know exactly what to say, too.
“It is always good to begin with laughter.”
“But it’s not a beginning.” Kyoko’s tears of laughter drip into sadness. “Our time with Nezume is ending.”
We’re the only family Kyoko has ever had, and it’s hard for her to let a brother go. Six fingers hold tight.
Help her, Sensei says.
“An ending is just another beginning,” I say, placing my arm around Kyoko’s shaking shoulders.
“That’s true,” Taji agrees, undoing her fingers from Nezume’s hand. “It’s all about how you choose to look at things.”
And Taji would know. He’s always seen things differently, and now he’s helping us to look at Nezume with our hearts, not our eyes. Helping us to hang the memory scrolls, so we never forget.
Raising his arm, Sensei signals good-bye. Then he turns, leaving without another word. There’s nothing more to say. We hurry after him, but this time Nezume isn’t running with us. He stands still, waving. Over and over I look back, until we round the curve in the road and I can’t see him anymore.
We thread our way through the maze of streets toward the outer gate. It’s not the same without the Long-Tailed Rat scuffling beside me. The others feel it, too. Kyoko’s flute wails softly, and in its song, the wind rips the blossoms from the cherry branch. It’s left bare. Empty. Incomplete.
“Do not be sad,” Sensei says. “We are like seeds blowing in the wind, but Nezume has found the place to plant his roots.”
“Sounds like a gardening lesson,” I say grumpily.
“Excellent, Niya.” Sensei beams at me. “It is how things grow. I am a great lover of trees. And I am always pleased when my seeds sprout roots.”
Sensei grows trees all over the ryu grounds. Cherry, plum, and oak. But he’s not talking about those. He means us.
“Well, now that Nezume is a tree,” I tease, “at least we’ll always know where to find him.”
“Yes,” Sensei says, nodding at Mitsuka. “Friends always know where to find each other when they are needed.”
We pass through the outer gate and are once again on the Toyozawa road. But Mitsuka is looking in the opposite direction from us. Our ronin is leaving, too.
“Don’t go,” I plead. “Come with us.”
He shakes his head. “I have a Dragon to tame. When you return, I will be waiting on the shore, ready to hear your stories and learn the new knowledge my teacher will bring.”
“Why would you want to learn anything more?” asks Mikko, amazed.
“There is always one more lesson to be learned, and a teacher is for life,” says Mitsuka.
“Life is a very long time.” Sensei’s eyes smile. “None of my students are ever rid of me.”
And I bet they’re all as glad as I am.
Mitsuka bows again. “Teacher,” he says. Then he envelops Sensei in a giant bear hug.
“Friend,” I hear Sensei whisper in reply.
A big bear can move quickly when it wants to, and in no time, Mitsuka is a long way down the road. As I watch, he turns, waving his wooden sword.
“Your students did well in the test you set them, Master.” His voice booms back to us, his laughter chasing behind.
Surely, it wasn’t just another test? But then, Sensei never stops teaching.
One day I want to be a teacher. But today has chosen Mitsuka and Nezume, not me.
The time will come, the wizard says. You will be a great teacher. But first you must learn great things. And you must swim in the sea.
“Is it far to the ocean?” Kyoko asks.
“Walking quickly, we will reach Japan’s edge at sunset,” Sensei says.
“Hurrah.” Mikko jumps high, kicking his heels together. “If we’re not going back to school, we don’t have to study anymore. We’re on vacation.”
Sensei pokes Mikko with his traveling staff. “A school is just a building, but learning is inside you. It follows you around like a shadow.”
“And a teacher is forever.” Taji pokes Mikko, too. “You’ll never get out of school.”
“More practice,” Yoshi, Kyoko, and I chorus, our voices mimicking Sensei.
Ki-Yaga grins. “There is twice as much to practice now that you have ninja and samurai skills. But this morning, practice must wait. Chop, chop, Little Cockroaches. We must hurry. Before the Emperor changes his mind.”
Sensei strides off down the road.
“Are we running away, Sensei?” I ask, finally catching up to him.
“Certainly not.” He smiles. “Cockroaches do not run. They scurry with honor and dignity.”
And the White Crane flies. With honor and dignity. Sweeping ahead of me, it opens its wings and soars out across the ocean.
To my sons — Jackson, who chops out any boring bits, and Cassidy, who is always full of ideas. To my friend and mentor, Di Bates, whose advice is invaluable. To Bill Condon, Vicki Stanton, Mo Johnson, and Sally Hall — word masters and mistresses all. To Bill Stuart, who shared his reference books and expertise. To my editor, Sue Whiting, whose work is magic. To the super supportive team at Walker Books. Thank you.
RHIAN NEST JAMES started working as a freelance illustrator in 1987 and has since illustrated more than sixty children’s books. Rhian moved to Sydney, Australia, from her native Wales in 2002.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2011 by Sandy Fussell
Illustrations copyright © 2011 by Rhian Nest James
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
First U.S. electronic edition 2011
The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:
Fussell, Sandy.
Owl ninja / Sandy Fussell; [illustrations by
Rhian Nest James]. — 1st U.S. ed.
p. cm. — (Samurai kids; [2])
Summary: Sensei Ki-yaga leads Niya and the other students of the Cockroach Ryu on a journey to beg the feudal Emperor to stop war from breaking out between the mountain ryus, putting to the test the firm friendship and unusual skills of these physically disabled samurai-in-training.
ISBN 978-0-7636-5003-2 (hardcover)
[1. Samurai — Fiction. 2. People with disabilities — Fiction.
3. War — Fiction. 4. Kings, queens, rulers, etc. — Fiction.
5. Schools — Fiction. 6. Japan — Fiction.]
I. James, Rhian Nest, 1962- ill. II. Title.
PZ7.F96669Owl 2011
[Fic] — dc22 2010038718
ISBN 987-0-7636-5451-1 (electronic)
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