by Alex Ko
“The blessing is for the team only,” Shini whispered. “I’ll be fine while I’m inside. You can stay here with the guards. I’ll yell for you if anything happens.”
“Oh...all right.” Josh nodded, a little reluctantly. He didn’t want to break the rules of the blessing.
The players started to file into the temple with the six monks flanking them, moving silently across the gravel.
As Josh watched, one of the monks fell out of step. He stopped, shuffling his feet while he pulled on the sleeve of his robe, hitching it up on his shoulder, as if it didn’t fit him properly. His exposed forearm was pale, except...
Josh narrowed his eyes. Monks did not, on the whole, have tattoos. He strained to make sense of the glimpse of red and green curling around the man’s arm, and felt a shiver run over his neck and down his spine as he identified the creature in the tattoo. There were talons and fangs, and long, barbed whiskers that trailed out behind it.
“Josh!” Jessica hissed, grabbing his arm hard. “That monk’s got a red dragon tattooed on his arm!”
“I see it,” Josh said, through gritted teeth, as the players started to disappear through the big wooden doors into the main hall. The tattooed man stopped fussing with his robe and walked after them.
“Josh, Josh...” Jessica was shifting her feet. “It’s a Yakuza tattoo, I’m sure it is!”
“We have to stop him! Granny, can you hear me?” Josh looked at the crowd beyond the perimeter of the temple, desperate for a glimpse of Team O. But there were just too many people, and the players were starting to disappear inside the temple...
“What’s going on?” Granny asked.
“We think one of the monks is a Yakuza henchman in disguise!” Jessica hissed. “They’re nearly all inside – we’ll have to go in with them.”
“Yes,” said Granny. “Stay with Shini! We’ll be with you as soon as we can.”
Still holding on to Josh’s arm, Jessica set off at a super-fast casual stroll and joined the back of the team just as they reached the steps. Josh lowered his head and tried to walk like a footballer, hastily kicking off his shoes and pulling his blue jacket up high around his neck. He prayed that they’d make it inside without getting caught and thrown back out. He even tried praying to Buddha: Hey Buddha, I’m not actually a Buddhist, but if you could lend a hand I’d really appreciate it...
They were climbing the steps. They were walking across the wooden porch, stepping over the threshold...they were in! Josh looked up and saw the main hall stretching out in front of him, the ancient artefacts standing on pedestals around the walls, the smoke rising from incense sticks and the large hanging tapestries of elaborate kanji and figures from history...
One of the monks was coming back. Josh grabbed Jessica and they both dived behind an enormous ornamental vase that stood beside the door. Josh watched as the monk closed the doors with a final ringing thonk.
The monk walked away. Josh breathed out, and felt Jessica do the same.
“Where are you, Granny?” Josh whispered, edging out from behind the vase as silently as he could.
“We’re close. Just hang on.”
Josh spotted the fake monk, and his heart leaped into his mouth. The man was moving fast across the polished wooden floor. He was heading straight for Shini, like a shark going after a wounded swimmer, reaching into his robe, pulling something out...
“Oh no – what’s that?” Jessica gasped.
Josh broke into a run. He pushed one of the players aside. Jessica was right behind him. He had to stop the monk, had to bring him down... He saw a glint of steel as the man raised his hand.
Josh leaped into the air feet-first, launching himself into a flying kick...
A thud rang out as Josh’s trainer connected with the fake monk’s head. Josh landed as the man fell, out cold, the knife skittering out of his hand.
A stunned silence filled the temple. The players and monks were all gaping at Josh.
Hot blood rushed to his cheeks.
You just kicked a monk in the face, he thought, as his brain caught up with his instincts.
“Josh,” said Goro, the player Jessica had been interviewing on the bus. “What is this? You just hit a monk!”
Someone grabbed Josh’s arms and held them tightly. It was Takeshi.
“Wait – no, not me, it’s not me you should be worried about!” Josh cried. He tried to nod towards the prone figure of the fake monk. “It’s him, he had a knife! He was going for Shini!”
“He’s right.” Jessica found her voice. “You don’t understand, he’s not a monk, he’s Yakuza! Look at his arm.”
“Are you mad?” Goro asked, but he gazed down at the bald, robed figure lying still on the wooden floor.
“It’s true,” Shini said. “The Yakuza are out to get me. They want us to lose the match.” A ripple of outrage and disbelief ran through the players. “They made the scaffolding fall on us – Takeshi, it was me who was supposed to be poisoned!”
Josh felt Takeshi’s grip on him loosen and then fall away altogether.
“Seriously,” he said, “check his arm! That’s no monk.”
Goro stepped closer to the unconscious man, carefully bent down and lifted the sleeve of his robe. The players gasped at the vivid red and green dragon that roared across his skin.
Suddenly the fake monk lashed out, an uppercut punch connecting with Goro’s jaw and sending him flying. He’d only been pretending to be unconscious, and he leaped smoothly to his feet, shaking his head clear and crying out “Mokka!”
Josh’s heart pounded as he stood back, falling into his ready stance with his arms up in position to block...
Who was the man speaking to?
“Hai!” two more voices replied. The players turned. Out of the five remaining monks, Josh saw two more men step forward, reaching into their robes. Each of the fake monks pulled out a pair of shiny wooden sticks, polished and dark with handles jutting out about a fifth of the way down their length.
“Tonfa,” he heard Jessica mutter. “Oh, great.”
There was a click, and Josh spun round again to see that the first monk had scrambled to the door and locked it.
“No!” he gritted his teeth. “Granny, they’ve just locked us in!”
He heard Mr. Yamamoto’s voice cursing in his earphone.
“Don’t worry,” Granny’s voice said. “We’ll find another way in.”
The real monks backed away, as the fake monks let out a yell and charged towards the players, their tonfa held up, ready to swing.
“It’s up to you two for the moment,” Granny said. “I know you can handle this!”
“Get back!” Josh yelled to the players. “Those things’ll break your skulls, get back!” He had to do something to stop them. He raced towards the charging monks, past Jessica, who was pushing the players back to the corner of the room while looking over her shoulder, ready to repel a blow if she had to. A Yakuza-monk brandished his tonfa as they drew closer, twirling one of the batons through the air with a sound like ripping cloth.
Josh stopped, waited – he had to time it right, just half a second longer, until he could see the whites of their eyes and the vivid greens, reds and blues of their tattoos...
He dropped to the floor in a spinning move, his outstretched leg sweeping around. He caught the fake monks hard on the sides of their ankles. They toppled and landed in a groaning heap in the centre of the room.
But as Josh stood up, they were getting to their feet too. Jessica sprinted up to his side, and they faced the three Yakuza-monks in a defensive stance with their feet apart and their hands raised, perfectly balanced for any attack.
“We won’t let you harm any of the players,” Josh said.
The monks didn’t answer. A hard wood tonfa arced through the air towards Josh’s head and he leaped back, almost stumbling, as one of the deadly weapons passed a few centimetres from his chin. Jessica lunged forward with a series of fast-swinging kicks, high then low, but her
target raised his arms, with the tonfa shielding him, and deflected her blows as fast as she could strike.
The other two monks advanced on Josh and he scanned the room, trying to think fast and avoid their vicious blows. He ducked under an arm and landed a satisfying, heavy punch to the man’s stomach, but he paid the price as a tonfa smacked down on his back. It was a weak blow, but it burned with the intensity of a hundred bee stings, and Josh had to drop and roll to avoid the next strike splintering his jaw.
...Splintering. That gave him an idea.
“Aim for the tonfa!” he yelled.
“I – can – hardly – avoid – them!” Jessica cried back, punctuating her words with sweeping kicks that mostly connected with nothing but thin air.
“No, really go for them.” Josh ducked again to avoid one of the swinging sticks. “Like the boards we used to break in class, back in London, remember?”
“Oh...” Jessica danced back a few steps, a faint smile of understanding lighting her eyes.
Josh sprinted forward, right at his attackers, and threw himself into a somersault that took him right between them and left him standing behind their backs. He landed a punch on one of the monks’ necks, making him stagger and let out a stream of Japanese that was very un-monklike indeed.
Beyond, Josh saw Jessica kick out at the monk she was fighting, making him raise his arm once again to deflect her with one of his tonfa. But she pulled back and before he could move she leaped, and with a yell of “Haiiiiya!” drove the side of her foot into the wooden stick.
“Yaaaow!” The monk cried out in pain and dropped the tonfa. It fell to the floor and lay there, one end of it splintered and now close to useless. The monk staggered back, clutching his arm, and Jessica pressed her advantage, bringing her other foot up and then down in a smashing kick onto the man’s other arm, breaking the second tonfa clean in two and reducing the monk to a whimpering heap on the floor.
“Aieee!” One of the men attacking Josh twirled his tonfa in his hands and drove the ends forward in a cruel, stabbing motion.
In one smooth movement Josh ducked his head and lunged forward. The tonfa brushed through his hair, much too close for comfort, and slid into the collar of his Team Japan jacket. He unzipped it, twisted his body free, and at the same time caught the man’s hands and his tonfa up together in a knot of blue fabric.
“What...?” The monk stared at him in surprise before Josh tore the bundled tonfa out of his hands and threw them towards the Japanese team. Shini caught them effortlessly, and the players cheered.
One to go, Josh thought, kicking out and catching the still-surprised monk a heavy blow to the ribcage.
“You...little...” the man gasped, and then collapsed in a heap at Josh’s feet.
The last armed man was running towards the players now, letting out a scream of rage and twirling his tonfa so fast they were a solid circular blur around his hands.
“Jess!” Josh cried. “Get him!” Jessica tried to throw herself into the path of the monk as he passed, but he dodged round her. The world turned to treacle as Josh saw the monk getting closer and closer to Shini. He looked around for something, anything...and spotted the incense sticks on the low altar. They were set into grooves in heavy stone blocks, each the size of a brick. He grabbed one of the blocks and threw it, as hard as he could, hoping with his entire being that it would fly true.
The stone hit the spinning tonfa, shattering them both! The monk skidded to a halt, throwing his hands up over his face to protect himself from a shower of splinters.
“We’ve found a way in,” Mr. Yamamoto’s voice said in Josh’s ears. “Hold on just a little longer, kids!”
Jessica raised her hands with a whoop of victory, and the football players all let out a rousing cheer...but it wasn’t over. Josh saw one of the disarmed monks getting to his feet, seizing a golden statue of the Buddha from its pedestal and holding it over his head.
One of the real monks started forward, his eyes blazing. “A thousand years of history you hold in your hands,” he said. “You already defame our temple – you wouldn’t dare!”
Yes, they would dare, Josh thought, quickly translating in his head what the monk had just said. But they won’t get away with it!
The fake monk grinned, showing a mouthful of gold teeth, and threw the statue to the ground.
Josh launched himself forward into a skid, sliding along the polished floor like a baseball player heading for a home run, his hands outstretched. The Buddha landed in his lap and he set it down carefully.
He looked up in time to see two of the monks charging the footballers again, their bare hands out and ready to do damage even without their weapons.
There was a loud BANG. An inner door had been thrown open and six lithe figures in full black ninja outfits rushed in. One of them ran up to the stunned footballers and gestured towards the door.
“Come on, all of you, out this way,” said the ninja. That was Sachiko!
Josh and Jessica whooped and gave each other a high five as Team Obaasan ran, jumped and flipped across the temple towards the Yakuza fighters.
It was the first time Josh had ever seen Team O fighting all together, and it took his breath away. He tried to make out the individual members among the spinning, kicking, backflipping group, but the kicks and punches flew so fast he could barely follow them. One ninja struck a Yakuza-monk with a chopping motion on the side of his neck and another grabbed his shoulders and yanked him into a wrestling throw. Another Yakuza-monk was trying to grab at a ninja’s hood, but a blurred spinning kick sent him crashing to the floor, clutching his wrist and bleeding from the chin. The final Yakuza fighter was caught between two punches, one to either side of his stomach, and crumpled like paper.
One of the ninjas, tall and lithe with stern, wrinkled eyes behind the slit of her ninja hood, walked up to Josh, Jessica and Shini. “You’re safe now,” she said to Shini. “Yoshida’s final attempt has failed. The Yakuza will not win this day.”
“Thank you...obaasan,” Shini said, bowing deeply. The ninja gave a “humph” of approval, bowed back, and then raised a finger to her lips. “Of course,” Shini said quickly, “not a word.” Josh and Jessica grinned at each other.
“Come on,” Josh said. “Let’s get you to that match!”
The whistle blew for half-time, and a huge, rolling wave of cheers circled Yokohama Stadium, echoing back and forth between the stands. Josh and Jessica leaped out of their seats and leaned over the balcony of the VIP box, cheering along with the Japanese supporters.
“One-nil! One-nil!” Jessica sang. Kiki jumped up and joined her. “Oooonne...niiiiiiil!” Josh had never heard anyone harmonize a football chant before, but it sounded awesome. Granny clapped politely beside them.
The eight seats in the VIP box were all upholstered in red velvet with little trays for drinks and snacks. Only one was empty. The other seats were occupied by two men and a woman, smartly dressed in stiff grey suits – probably executives on a corporate trip – who regularly shot them disapproving glances.
They can disapprove all they like, Josh thought. We’ve earned our seats a hundred times over!
Josh felt a rush of pride as he gazed down at the half-time cheerleaders, their red and white striped skirts swishing as they tumbled and backflipped across the pitch in formation. It was down to him and his twin sister that the teams were playing at all. He just hoped Shini kept playing well, so that Yoshida didn’t win his bet.
It’s a bit weird, cheering for Japan to beat England, Josh thought. But to defeat Yoshida, I can deal with it!
As the players ran back on for the second half, singing from the English fans filtered down from the stands and mingled with the rhythmic, syncopated drumming of the Japanese supporters. The TV cameras swooped back and forth on their cranes. The scoreboard flashed a bewilderingly fast stream of kanji which resolved themselves into the words GO JAPAN GO.
Kick off! Japan had possession at once, but the ball was stolen with a cl
ever bit of misdirection by Mark Gallagher, and he zipped towards the Japanese goal. Then Goro got in the way of Gallagher’s pass and booted it back towards the England end...
Granny Murata’s mobile phone rang, and she fished it out of the little beaded purse that hung from the belt of her kimono. “Ah, it is Nana-san,” she said, flipping open the phone. “Hello?”
Josh held his breath, his heart pounding and his attention torn from the pitch for a moment. Had something gone wrong? Was there another threat to Shini...?
Granny nodded, her eyes narrowing. “That is good news,” she said. “Thank you, Nana-san. Excellent work.” Josh’s heart slowed to a steady thud as she hung up and turned to him with a satisfied smile. She motioned for him and Jessica to lean close to her.
“Minister Kobayashi has been apprehended,” she said, keeping her voice low so the executives couldn’t hear over the roar of the crowd. “Nana’s surveillance operation caught him as he attempted to check in at Tokyo airport.”
“That’s fantastic!” Josh beamed.
“Kobayashi is willing to testify that Yoshida was behind it all. It’s not enough to take Yoshida down yet, but the Minister will be a valuable asset for the police as long as Yoshida doesn’t find out we have him.”
“Like the ace up our sleeve!” Jessica said.
“Or the East Wind tile hidden in our kimono,” Josh joked, remembering Granny’s talent for mah-jong.