The Book of the Sword

by Carrie Asai

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to think.” My mind raced, and I prayed that he would tell me something, anything, that would finally make things clear.

  “I know, Heaven, I know. It’s complicated. Come home with me, and I will tell you everything I know.” He reached for my hands.

  “Tell me now.” I gripped the poster tube more tightly. My father gestured toward one of the tables, but I shook my head. “It doesn’t feel safe here. Please tell me quickly.”

  With another sigh, my father rejoined me in the middle of the room. “I must tell you, then, something that you are not going to want to hear. Ohiko was not as innocent as he seemed.”

  “What are you talking about?” I wanted to scream at him that he was wrong, but something about the way he spoke made me realize that it was even harder for him to say what he did than for me to hear it.

  “What happened between Ohiko and me was not a petty disagreement such as fathers and sons generally have. I received evidence that he had been working with another family to ruin the Kogo business.” Konishi’s voice thickened, and he paused to clear his throat. “The empire that the Kogos have struggled for years to build. Ohiko was not supposed to be at the wedding—and I didn’t know why he was there.”

  “I don’t understand.” My head was spinning. “Are you saying that he came there to harm me? How can you believe that? You saw the ninja.”

  “I’m saying only that the situation is more complicated than you realize.”

  “Maybe that’s because no one ever told me anything!” I yelled, feeling something inside me snap. All the old fear of my father vanished, and the resentment that I could finally admit to myself I’d felt at the way I was treated, condescended to, controlled my whole life boiled over. He was responsible for the person I had become, a woman with no answers who couldn’t even manage her own life. “You treated me like a child, and now look what’s happened! I don’t know anything about your ‘empire,’ and now I don’t know who to believe—or what.”

  I only knew that I didn’t believe my father. Ohiko would never hurt anybody—he had no reason to hurt the Kogo empire. And he would never, ever hurt me. But as I stared at Konishi’s face, I saw that he was truly torn about Ohiko. Someone had been feeding him information and had done it effectively enough to make him doubt his own son. Maybe Konishi wasn’t the enemy, but the enemy might be closer to him than he knew.

  “Please, Heaven—”

  My father held out his arms to me at the same moment I heard a soft rustle coming from one of the dark corners of the room. I barely had time to process the sound before a whirling cloud of black came hurtling toward us.

  A sharp crack sent my father sprawling across the smooth wooden floor.

  Ninja!

  Without thinking, I went on the offensive. I lunged at the ninja and delivered a quick, thrusting blow to the back of his neck. I connected well, and he spun around—clearly he hadn’t expected much of a fight from me. In the second it took him to recover his balance, I whirled to the side and drew the Whisper of Death from the poster tube. I gripped it with both hands just as the ninja flew toward me.

  With the sword, I had a slight advantage. He moved in, then slipped back again and again, adapting his approach with each advance, keeping me off balance. I whipped back and forth, heading off the attacks. A sharp kick slipped into my unguarded side and I gasped with pain and stumbled back, raising the Whisper just as he bore down on me again. I wasn’t channeling my energies properly—and now that the first moments of surprise had passed, I felt fear rising in my chest and making my movements awkward.

  I lunged at the gathering cloud and missed. Each time the ninja approached, he came closer. The next time he would be on me. I held up the sword for a final desperate strike and then—

  From across the room I heard my father moan. The last shred of my concentration broke, and before I knew it, a thundering kick from the ninja sent me to the ground, the Whisper flying from my hands. I heard it clatter across the wooden floor, the sound echoing across the room.

  I rolled backward and stood up, frozen in a ready position. Fear like I’d never known gripped me in its tight fist. The dark eyes of the ninja gleamed as he snatched up the Whisper and stepped slowly toward me, quiet as a cat. His mouth and nose were covered by a dark cloth, but something in those eyes told me that he was enjoying this.

  That was when I realized that without a doubt, I was really going to die.

  In that instant time seemed to elongate, and with each step toward me the ninja took, I felt myself being lifted up and out of my body. It was as if suddenly two Heavens were in the room—the Heaven who was going to be sliced in half and the Heaven who was calmly watching it all happen, bearing witness. I was going to die.

  Then it happened. As if by magic, the two Heavens came together again, and the fist of fear that had held me captive loosened and floated away. It didn’t matter anymore that the ninja was going to kill me because it didn’t change anything that I would or could do. My actions would have to be the same no matter the consequences. My body relaxed, and I readied myself for the blow. The ninja raised his arm.

  Another shape, this one clad in a silk suit, entered my field of vision. My father jumped on the ninja from behind, and the two of them stumbled backward. They struggled, spinning into a darkened corner of the room, only silhouettes again, almost like dancers. And then the Whisper came down.

  My father fell motionless to the floor.

  I screamed, and it was as if the calmness that had gathered in me before was propelling me out of myself and straight at the ninja. The weeks of training took over and I spun through the air and lashed out with every ounce of strength I had.

  Snap!

  The Whisper of Death flew from the ninja’s hands, and I spun to catch it as it leapt into my own, almost as if it knew that it belonged there. I stepped back and sliced through the air, letting the stream of energy that now coursed through my body guide the Whisper to its home.

  The ninja gasped and clutched his stomach. Blood coursed over his hands, and his eyes clouded. Before I could attack again, he fled to the back of the restaurant. I took a step forward and watched him stumble against one of the tables. He turned, and I could see fear in his eyes. I held up my sword and he pulled himself back up, then stumbled through the door and into the kitchen.

  I raced after him and kicked open the kitchen door, still on my guard, then searched for a light switch with my free hand. When the bright overheads came on, I followed a trail of blood that snaked across the white tile floor to the exit door, which was swinging open on its hinges.

  He was gone. I stepped outside and saw that the trail of blood continued down the alley. I pulled the door shut and locked it.

  It was like all of the energy had been sucked out of the room. My father still lay motionless on the floor. I ran over and dropped the Whisper next to him as I knelt at his side. His face was white, and a pool of blood had collected by his neck. A deep gash cut across his chest and shoulder. His crisp white shirt had turned a deep red.

  “Oh, Father. Oh, Father…,” I cried.

  First they had killed Ohiko. Now they had killed my father. Who was it that so badly wanted us dead? I sat beside Konishi and watched his pale face, but no tears came. I was done with crying. This time I would see that justice was done. Even if he wasn’t my real father, he was the only father I had ever known. I would accept death, and, in doing so, I would be able to find out who it was that wanted my family destroyed. I would have no fear.

  I closed my eyes. My voice trembled as I whispered the last words I would say to Konishi. “Good-bye, Father. I love you.”

  I gently slid my arm out from beneath him, laying his head down gently onto the wooden floor, just as I had done with Ohiko. I kept my eyes closed. It hurt too much to look at his lifeless face.

  A gurgling sound. My eyes snapped open.

  He was breathing! He wasn’t dead!

  “Father? Konishi?” I
leaned over him, willing him to speak to me. His eyes flickered, and I could see that he was struggling to breathe. My father was alive. My mind raced as I thought about what to do. Staying there wasn’t safe. I looked wildly around the restaurant, as if expecting someone to appear and fix the situation for me.

  No. I had to make a decision. I had to handle this myself.

  “I’m going to call for help,” I said in a loud clear voice. “I’ll be right back.”

  I dashed to the front of the restaurant and punched 911.

  “There’s someone here who’s badly injured. He’s been…stabbed.” I wasn’t quite sure how to say it without sounding like a lunatic. “With a sword,” I added. “Please hurry—he’s bleeding so much.”

  I gave the operator the address, but when she started asking questions, I just repeated, “Please hurry,” and hung up. I had to get away before the ambulance came.

  I ran back to Konishi and grabbed his hand, which was fish cold.

  “Please be strong, Father. Help is coming. I’m sorry, but I have to leave you.”

  In the distance sirens sounded. I unzipped my sweatshirt, flinching as I stripped it off. The pain in my side was intensifying, and I was pretty sure the ninja had broken one of my ribs. I laid the sweatshirt gently over my father, then leaned down to kiss his forehead. He was still breathing. The sirens were close now.

  With one last look I grabbed the Whisper and dragged myself away. I ran back to the kitchen, and almost as soon as the door swung shut behind me, I heard the front doors of the restaurant burst open. I peered through the round window in the door and saw three of my father’s bodyguards race into the room. One knelt by Konishi while the others secured the area, checking behind the beams. That was the second time they’d been too late to protect us. Was someone paying them to look the other way?

  After barely a second had passed, the emergency team clattered in, ran to my father, and began working on him. In a few moments they had an oxygen mask on him. They loaded his motionless body onto a stretcher.

  It was time for me to leave. I unlocked the back door and dashed out. Before I’d made it out of the alley, a dark shape loomed in my path. I held up my sword.

  “Heaven?”

  “Hiro?” I wondered if I was hearing things.

  “Heaven, are you hurt?” he asked, his voice concerned and even, I thought, slightly panicky.

  He put his arm around me as I stumbled. I wasn’t dreaming. Hiro really was there.

  “No. No. He’s gone,” I mumbled, feeling a little dazed.

  “Who?” Hiro asked as he took the Whisper of Death from my hands. I dropped my head against his chest. “Never mind,” he said. “We can talk later.”

  “How did you find me?” I asked.

  “The slip of paper—you wrote down the address.”

  So much for being sneaky. I had to wonder if I’d meant to do that, if my feelings for him had powered my movements.

  “Not too slick, huh?” I asked, enjoying the safe feeling of having his arms wrapped around me. “I’m glad you came,” I whispered.

  “Me too,” said Hiro. “Me too.”

  19

  Hiro and I stood on the beach, watching the tide roll out in soft blue waves. The sun was just rising over the horizon, and the air was still chilly. I clutched one of Hiro’s hooded sweatshirts more tightly around me and flipped some stray strands of hair from my face. That morning Hiro had woken me up and we’d started driving with barely a word between us. When I’d asked him where we were going, he would only say, “We have a lot to talk about.”

  A plane flew over us far in the distance, and I couldn’t help wondering if it was Tokyo bound. I looked over at Hiro, and even though his eyes were hidden by sunglasses and his face was expressionless, I had the feeling he was wondering the same thing.

  “It’s funny,” I said, surprised at how rusty my own voice sounded, “how I was nervous about getting on the plane when we came to L.A. Before a few weeks ago—before last night—I thought I might have used up all my luck on JAL flight 999. Now I think I might have a little left.”

  Hiro took off his sunglasses and faced me, saying nothing.

  “I wonder if I’ll ever go back to Japan,” I said.

  “I think you will,” said Hiro, his voice soft. “I feel like your fate is there.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Mine too.”

  Staring into Hiro’s black eyes, I felt a churning warmth in my stomach. Something told me to look away, so I did and stared instead out at the rolling sea.

  “You know, Heaven, what you did last night was unwise.”

  “I know,” I said. “Believe me, nothing you could say would make me feel worse than I already do.”

  “Hear me out, Heaven. I was going to say that in spite of that, you did it for all the right reasons.”

  “Really?” That was one of the last things I’d expected Hiro to say. It was clear from the conversation we’d had after we returned home the night before (much of which took place while Hiro was taping up my ribs, which he said were only bruised, not broken) that he wasn’t going to kick me out, but I’d figured he was just putting off the lecture until I’d had a chance to get some rest.

  “Yes. And by the way, you completed your mission. You accepted your own death.”

  A surge of strength soared through me and mixed with something else—something that had to do with Hiro.

  “I did, didn’t I?”

  “You did.”

  The answer to the mission’s riddle was so obvious that it was hard to believe I hadn’t seen it all along—now that I’d accepted my own death, I was free of the tyranny of fear. Fear could be useful, but only if you controlled it—then it made you sharper, more careful, less apt to take unnecessary chances. But the other way around? You wouldn’t stand a chance. The real question was not how to avoid death, but how to embrace life. It was all a matter of perspective.

  Now my training could begin for real, if Hiro would still have me. Part of me wanted to share my new thoughts with him right then, but I also wanted the chance to develop them a bit, make sure I was thinking about things in the right way.

  The old Heaven would have just blurted out her realization. I was changing.

  “There’s something else,” said Hiro, jolting me out of my reverie. I faced him again.

  “Yes?” I said, feeling my heart start to beat wildly.

  “I want to apologize for how strict I’ve been. Not for the discipline, which is necessary, but for not seeing clearly the situation that was before me,” he explained. “I was so focused on achieving certain goals and maintaining certain standards that I failed to adapt appropriately. And flexibility is the hallmark of the samurai. You must be prepared to make adjustments to your plan of attack at every moment.”

  “I understand,” I said, surprised to feel a pang of disappointment, “and thank you.” I’d thought, hoped, maybe he’d say something more…personal. That was almost a speech he could have given to a classroom of students.

  “And one more thing…”

  I waited, held my breath.

  “I want you to promise that you will always tell me what you’re thinking of doing. Even if you think I won’t approve.”

  I wasn’t sure that was a promise I could make, especially since so many questions still lingered. More even than there’d been before last night. But then I realized that what he was really saying was that he hadn’t given up on me yet. We were still a team.

  “How about if I agree to tell you almost anything, including if I have any ninja-fighting or otherwise life-threatening situations coming up. And the rest of the time you trust me.” Best to be honest from the get-go, I thought.

  Hiro studied me in silence for a long moment. “I guess I can live with that.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, “deal. Now there’s something I want to ask you.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Will you help me find out who wants my family and me dead?”
>
  Hiro’s eyes looked especially dark. “Yes. But you have to be patient, Heaven. What happened to your father doesn’t tell us much. From what you described, his injury could have been an accident. We have to keep an open mind, and—your safety comes first.”

  He reached out a hand and gently brushed my hair away from my face, then he pulled away and stared back out at the water. I realized that he had been far more worried about me than he’d let on, and suddenly my heart felt like it was going to burst.

  “The old Heaven is dead. You’re my only family now,” I said.

  Hiro nodded. “Does the new Heaven want to go home?” He turned to me again and smiled.

  I smiled back. Yes, the old Heaven was dead. I was Samurai Girl.

  “Yes. Let’s go home.”

  Together we walked off the beach and into our new life. Not a movie life. I knew now that was never going to happen. Not in L.A. Not in Japan. That life doesn’t exist off the silver screen.

  When I walked into the sunrise with Hiro, I knew that I’d finally gotten my one perfect, pure movie moment.

  Glossary

  aikido: a Japanese art of self-defense employing locks and holds and utilizing the principle of nonresistance to cause an opponent’s own momentum to work against him or her. There are many different schools of aikido.

  aikijujutsu: an unarmed samurai fighting style.

  bo: a long wooden stick used as a weapon in martial arts.

  Bunraku: the traditional puppet theater of Japan.

  bushido: translated means “way of the warrior.” Bushi means “warrior” and do means “the way.” Bushido is the code, or the way of life, of the samurai.

  byobudaoshi: translated means “to topple a folding screen.” A throw in karate.

  dojo: a school for training in various arts of self-defense.

  gi: a training outfit worn for martial arts consisting of a cotton jacket and loose-fitting cotton drawstring pants.

  katana: a samurai sword, usually between three and four feet long.