The Cat Ninja

by Erik DeLeo

  Kobayashi once again began taunting Miko with the feather. It was still a foreign idea, but she focused on feeling her feelings, and having them wash through her without becoming a slave to their temptations. Without warning, her sensei pulled out what looked like a stuffed mouse. But it was no ordinary mouse. Miko could already detect the distinct, sweet mint smell of catnip. He threw it on the ground in front of her while the feather still flitted through the air. Her mouth watered and her eyes became glassy.

  “Focus!” shouted Kobayashi.

  Miko shook her head. Her thinking became foggy, as she struggled to concentrate. She wanted to roll and sniff and lick the intoxicating toy mouse at her feet. Miko’s knees began to feel week. She was losing her ability to resist. Any moment now, the catnip would take control of her brain.

  “Ok, that’s enough,” said Kobayashi mercifully, who fetched the toy back and secreted it away somewhere Miko couldn’t smell or see it. Miko realized she was panting, a trait more commonly associated with dogs. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. She sunk down to the ground, spent and exhausted.

  “Training was never this hard before,” said Miko, still breathing heavily.

  “Fighting is easy. Battling oneself is hard.”

  Recon

  “I don’t think one lesson with Kobayashi is going to solve your problems,” said Sukoshi with suspicion.

  “Well it’s going to have to do for now,” replied Miko tersely. She was preparing for her mission to the Whiskey Dog.

  In front of her, on the floor covering the secret space, a large tile had been slid out of the way. She was in the process of donning her shozoku. First, one leg at a time, Miko put on the hakama, the trousers of her uniform. Then she pulled out the uniform top called a uwagi, slipping each arm through the sleeves. Once she had that on, Miko retrieved the long belt and pulled it around her waist, cinching it tightly. Next, Miko wrapped each of her rear legs in kyahan, which fastened to the bottom of her trousers. She tied the topmost part of each with a piece of string, securing them in place.

  Now, fully dressed in her ninja garb, Miko knelt down on the floor and retrieved her katana. She held it respectfully in front of her with both paws. It was an ancient piece, one gifted to her by Kobayashi. The sword was one of the original weapons of the founding cat ninjas of Kyoto. The blade was forged of ancient jewel steel, a special metal stronger than normal iron swords. The finish of the katana was mesmerizing, a pattern of curvy lines and elegant whorls. As usual, Miko tested the edge of the blade with a pad on one of her front paws. Sharp. She then secreted away some throwing stars and a loop of rope.

  “You ready?” asked Sukoshi.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Okay, good.” There was a pause before Sukoshi said “Be careful” as Miko turned to leave.

  “I always am,” she said, right before she pulled up the fukumen to cover the bottom of her face, and slipped out into the night.

  A rabble of scurrilous looking dogs congregated outside the entrance to the bar. These were not ordinary dogs. They were covered in scars and tattoos and bad attitudes. The crowd was rowdy, and an air of barely concealed aggression hung over the area, as a bouncer outside the Whiskey Dog corralled patrons in an out of the entrance.

  Miko needed to find another way in. She wasn’t against fighting every dog there, but she felt it would be a better use of her time to avoid the hassle. If she knew what she was looking for, she might enjoy the fight—she had fought dogs before and won. But Miko had literally nothing else to go on except a crumpled up napkin.

  She crept back into the shadows, and carefully made her way to the rear of the building which required her to scale a wall, climb onto a low hanging roof and push herself through a narrow opening between two dilapidated buildings whose best days were far behind them.

  A couple of particularly mean looking Tosa Inu’s were guarding the rear entrance. They were the largest dogs in Japan, and while Miko loved a good fight, she wasn’t looking forward to fighting these two. In this instance, she preferred stealth to needless bloodshed. Crouched in the bushes, the incessant glow of artificial light made it nearly impossible to approach without being seen. She’d need a distraction. She thought about throwing a stick, but these two didn’t look like ordinary guards. She’d need a better option than that.

  Miko had an idea, but she’d need to double back. There was an adjacent warehouse to where to Tosas were guarding the back of the bar. She made her way to a tree close to the side of the warehouse. Half the trunk was lit by the bright light from next door, so she climbed up the side of the tree trunk masked in shadow. Miko pushed her way slowly through the leaves on a branch that extended over the metal roof. She was careful not to extend her claws as she jumped down.

  A space of a few feet separated the warehouse from the bar. Miko leapt over. She had a good view of the area below. The dogs were alert and kept a constant survey of the open alleyway. Perched above, she moved her paw inside her outfit and felt the dog biscuits she had stashed there. But instead of pulling out two, she retrieved a single biscuit.

  This should do the trick.

  She leaned over the side of the roof, and gently tossed the biscuit down, hoping it wouldn’t break. It skittered across the ground, landing a few feet from both canines, intact.

  At first, the dogs ignored it. Then one of them crept forward and sniffed it. The other Taso inched toward it, and sniffed as well. The first growled, a low threatening sound. The second ignored the warning, and moved in to snatch it away with his teeth. The first snapped his teeth, a quick bite to ward off the other. The second began growling and soon they were at each other—gnashing teeth and claws and fury. The fight moved the dogs away from the entrance. The second landed a vicious bite, and after a loud yelp, the first took off followed closely by the second.

  “Predictable,” said Miko in a condescending tone, as she scurried down a gutter pipe that ran from the lip of the roof to the ground.

  She adjusted her uniform and entered the darkened doorway, leaving the bright lights of the alleyway behind her.

  Basement

  There was a single light bulb hanging by a wire from the ceiling and casting a dim light on the concrete stairs leading down into the basement. The stairs we covered in a slick of moisture and moss, and the damp air hung heavy with a musty smell. Miko unsheathed her katana and headed down into the unknown.

  One by one, she descended the stairs. The stairs were wet and crumbling, a victim of negligence and disrepair. Miko kept her breathing even, her heart rate remaining calm. She was unsure of what she’d find, but a pair of mean looking guard dogs protecting whatever lay down here gave her pause. Then the stench hit her. It was terrible. Urine and something indescribable. She got to the bottom and rounded the corner. Miko was unprepared for what she saw.

  With nothing to go off of besides a cocktail napkin, she had no idea what she’d find here. Well, it just became the mother of all cocktail napkins, and things became much bigger than simply locating a single client’s puppy. The place was full of cages. There just wasn’t one here, there were scores of them. From floor to ceiling, metal containers crammed with dogs lined the walls—most puppies. The cages hadn’t been cleaned in some time and the smell was overwhelming. Miko was thankful her uniform covered her mouth.

  You’d expect puppies to bark and make noise, but these were silent except for the occasional whimper. Their sad eyes held a thousand-yard stare, tails motionless. These were animals that had given up.

  Miko felt a combination of anger and sadness rise inside of her. Dogs or not, the cruelty displayed by these conditions brought her blood to the edge of a boil. Right then and there, she swore to herself that she wasn’t just going to rescue her client’s puppy. She was going to rescue all of them.

  The sounds of someone or something approached, and Miko found a stack of old boxes and rags that she could hide behind. She sheathed her katana and pulled out two knives, which fit perfectly in each p
aw. She had always erred on the side of caution that was less than cautious. The best defense was a good offense. That’s what she told herself, anyway. Besides, Miko was a ninja. She made no apologies for that.

  There was a voice. It spoke in hushed tones and seemed vaguely familiar. Then a second voice floated through the air, heavier than the first. Thick. Grating. Low and guttural. It sent a shiver down her back. Something wicked approached. Miko crouched low, waiting.

  Then she saw them. The first was the Akita from the fight at the temple. Next to it towered the biggest Tosa Inu Miko had ever seen. Big. Menacing. Covered in irezumi, traditional Japanese tattoos. From its neck to its paws, the Tosa’s fur was cut short enough to reveal the intricate maze of colors and patterns. He was a gang member. One of the barkuza.

  A gigantic Tosa was bad enough news. The barkuza were something else entirely. They controlled most of the unsavory parts of Kyoto and, depending on the clan, engaged in such activities such as gambling, stolen goods, and even animal trafficking.

  Miko crouched lower as two dogs approached, hugging the shadows and holding her knives tightly. The pair got close enough she could reach out and touch them if she wanted.

  “What if they come looking for the puppy?” asked the Akita.

  “What of it,” replied the Tosa dismissively. “This will all be gone by the time they come looking. Tomorrow night, we’ll move them from here to the docks in Maizuro. You better pray to whatever kami you believe in, because if the spirits don’t help you and you make any more mistakes, you’ll be cleaning the pits for the foreseeable future. If I’m feeling nice. If not, you’ll be fighting in them.”

  “Yes, Akihiro-san,” replied the dog named Tsuyoshi.

  Miko could see the worry cross the Akita’s face. And that worried her. This was an enemy not to be trifled with. And the sheer amount of puppies hidden away here meant she was going to need help. And the only person she knew who would be up to such a task, who wouldn’t risk jeopardizing a mission like this, was Kobayashi.

  She waited patiently for both of them to leave. She didn’t want to attract attention by searching for Mrs. Kanin’s Kichiro. She risked getting the puppies excited. Instead, once the barkuza had gone, she quickly searched the area. On a small table tucked in a back corner, she found a ledger. Miko paged through it and stopped when she saw a line that caught her attention. The light was dim, but there appeared to be an entry with the word “Kanin” along with some numbers scrawled on the paper. Miko suspected the guard dogs would be back soon, and she needed to talk with her Sukoshi and Mrs. Kanin.

  Regroup

  Sukoshi was beside himself. “You mean to tell me you don’t know if the puppy was there?”

  “I had no idea what I’d find there,” Miko shot back as she took off her uniform. “All we had was a silly napkin. How am I supposed to know a crumpled up piece of paper is going to lead to a barkuza smuggling ring?”

  Sukoshi folded his arms across his furry white chest. He didn’t have a good response. She was right.

  “Okay, so now what do we do?”

  “We?” asked Miko with a hint of annoyance “I don’t know what you’re going to do, but I’m going to go an meet with Mrs. Kanin to let her know what I found.”

  “Well, I can go with you.”

  “No, I need you to find out some things.”

  “Like what?” asked Sukoshi.

  “Like what ship the barkuza are going to be moving all those dogs to.”

  “Okay, I can do that,” replied the field mouse.

  “Good. Now hurry up because we need that answer before tomorrow. You have any idea of where our client would be?”

  “She may be around the dog park. I think she likes to take long walks since her puppy disappeared.”

  And with that, Sukoshi slipped out one of his hidden exits and Miko headed out, even though she was really needing a catnap.

  The barking was beginning to wear on Miko’s nerves. Taking in the scenery from up in a tree, she couldn’t hide her displeasure. There were too many dogs here to her liking. She was hoping to make this a quick visit.

  It wasn’t hard to spot Mrs. Kanin. She had separated herself from the other dogs in the park, pacing back and forth along the fence. Miko made her way down the trunk of the tree and over to the Shiba Inu.

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Kanin,” said Miko from the other side of the fence. It was a respectful greeting, but firm enough that it couldn’t be ignored. Her client looked up, and eyed the black cat through the slats in the fence.

  “Yes?” asked Mrs. Kanin, as she approached the fence.

  “I have some questions, and I’m hoping you can provide the answers I need.” Miko paused a moment before continuing. “Do you know if your husband is involved in any way with bad people?”

  “What? No!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m insulted by the question.”

  Miko paused again. “The reason I ask, is because I discovered your last name in a book I found. It looked like a ledger. For debts. And I found it in a place that’s controlled by the barkuza.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Tell me about it. I was hoping you could give me some answers.”

  Miko carefully observed Mrs. Kanin’s facial expressions. She looked genuinely surprised. Not a hint of deception.

  “I found a napkin which led me to a bar called the Whiskey Dog. Do you know if your husband has ever been there?”

  Mrs. Kanin shook her head vigorously side-to-side. She appeared shocked by the question.

  “No…no. He doesn’t go to places like that.”

  “Are there any other dogs where you live? Or is it just your family.”

  “There’s no one else but the three…I mean two of us,” added Mrs. Kanin with a tinge of sadness.

  “The napkin I found was tucked inside what I assume was his leash.”

  Mrs. Kanin’s eyes narrowed.

  “You snuck into our home the other night.”

  Miko nodded affirmatively, holding the napkin.

  “Let me see that,” asked the Shibu Inu testily.

  Miko held the napkin up to the fence so her client could see it. The corners of Mrs. Kanin’s mouth turned down in a frown. Miko continued.

  “I’m not sure what kind of trouble your husband might be in, but I think he’s in over his head. The barkuza don’t mess around.”

  “I think I’ve had enough of your questions for one day,” replied Mrs. Kanin tersely.

  “I don’t think you understand how serious this is, Mrs. Kanin.”

  “Good day,” said the dog, before turning and walking away.

  “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Kanin,” said Miko without letting her annoyance show. A skill she could thank Kobayashi-san for. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Teahouse

  It was still early, and the hazy gray skies were foreboding, but still quiet. As Miko got closer to home, she grew more and more uneasy. Something was off. The feeling was almost imperceptible, but she was trained for things like this. Miko was a ninja, taught to take notice when her intuition was speaking, even if her five senses were silent.

  She knew the danger didn’t come from behind, of that she could be positive. Her routine ensured this. Miko often backtracked, climbing along the tops of hard-to-navigate fences, and through twisted and sinewy tree branches. Unless she was followed by a trio consisting of a dog, a cat and a squirrel, she was in no danger of being followed.

  As Miko approached the alley that led to the teahouse, she hesitated, scanning the area for anything amiss. Her tail swished back and forth. Miko simply wanted to get back to the teahouse, get out of her outfit, and consult with Kobayashi. But her instincts gnawed at her.

  “Something the matter?” asked a voice.

  It was deep and grating and hauntingly familiar. Miko whipped around. It was the Tosa Inu she had seen earlier. The one with the tattoos. The barkuza member.

  “You look surprised. Like,
no one is supposed to know who you are. The little cat ninja, pretending to be a teahouse cat.”

  Miko said nothing, but the hair along her back was beginning to stand up.

  “Oh, I’ll save you the trouble of figuring things out. That little mouse friend of yours has quite a mouth on him. One that likes to talk. Especially when he thinks his family is in danger. Which they are.”

  Miko hissed reflexively.

  “I’d ask if a cat has your tongue, but I’m a dog.”

  “Akihiro,” spat Miko, as she became aware of something behind her. She turned her head to see two lumbering dogs approach. She assumed were the guards from the Whiskey Dog.

  “Well that’s curious. You know my name,” said the tattooed Tosa. “But it matters little, really. I control Kyoto, and you are living on borrowed time in my city. In fact, I think you’re just about out of it. Take her.”

  There was a scrape of claws on cement, as the dogs behind her rushed. Miko had been expecting it, so she leapt in the air, spinning backwards as teeth and fangs came at her. She landed behind them, on her feet and prepared for another attack. This was a precarious situation. Miko was unarmed and she faced two dangerous opponents. Three, if she included Akihiro. The dogs wheeled around and barreled toward her once again.

  Miko crouched in a fighting stance. She was not a physical match for this fight, especially without her katana. She needed to gain a tactical advantage. Without hesitating, she sprinted for a group of garbage cans and her pursuers followed. She hopped up on them, and then on top of the dumpster next to them. One dog tried to jump right on top of the dumpster, but only made it halfway before slipping off and falling backwards. The other began barking incessantly. Miko paced back and forth, hissing loudly and weighing her options.

  Akihiro strolled over, growling. He was patient. The Tosa Inu was either cocky or he knew something. Neither of those options were particularly reassuring, Miko thought.