CHAPTER 21

くノ一 Kunoichi

Female Ninja

Jet lay in bed back at the temple, wondering if she should tell Soji what had happened. How could she begin to explain? She turned Takumi’s warnings around in her mind, more determined than ever to get at the heart of the mystery.

She hadn’t been able to save Satoko. She hadn’t been able to save Ojiisan, either. Could she still save Kanabe? She knew she couldn’t let Ojiisan’s fall from the ravine be for nothing.

Ojiisan had known the end could come anytime, but something told Jet this was only the beginning. Jet tossed and turned all night, the questions spinning in her mind. What kind of destiny could this be? Always being hunted, or hunting. Is this how Satoko had felt, all those years?

Was this the present she’d have to give up to allow the future to emerge?

All she could see were Takumi’s eyes, brown, fierce, beautiful. And the feel of his soft lips against hers…. There was no way to speak of it, any of it.

Sometime before dawn, Jet finally slept. She woke to the sun streaming through the windows and a chill in the air. She resolved to quell her desires in meditation. It was her seventeenth birthday, and she would celebrate it in the prayer room.

Bundling herself in a blanket, she left her small bungalow and made her way to the prayer hall, where she took her place on a round cushion warmed by a patch of sun through the shoji screen window. She sat and waited for the others to arrive.

The sound of the meditation bell traveled up her spine, making her shiver. She tried to remember the teachings. The body was impermanent. You got sick, grew old, and died. No one could escape the cycles of karma. Birth. Death. Rebirth. Transcend your desires, as they only cause suffering.

How true that was! She tried to anchor her thoughts in the breath. Her mind reeled. Her body hummed with equal parts passion and pain.

When she was young, Satoko had made her sit and meditate. She’d passed the time by making up stories in her mind. Eventually, she’d gotten bored of the stories, so she’d watched her breath. Watching her breath made it slow down. Then, inexplicably, her thoughts slowed down too, and she noticed space between thoughts. It was quiet and peaceful in that gap, and soon, she began to like going there. It helped her forget about things like tests, homework, not being invited to the popular kids’ parties, and most of all, her mother for making her stare at a wall.

Now, the stories she was telling herself were real, and the conflicts dangerous. She breathed deeply, trying to find the gaps, hoping to steady her heart. Maybe too deeply, for she heard Soji’s swift footsteps approaching from her across the hall. Then there was the sound of a sword cutting through the air, and Jet’s heart skipped a beat. But he was only swatting her back with the keisaku stick, used to keep monks from falling asleep during meditation. Not hard, but just enough to let her know she was walking a thin line and he knew it.

Ojiisan was dead, she and Hiro were hiding from vicious attackers, and the first guy she’d kissed said he’d been sent to capture her. Even if it wasn’t true, she was nothing but trouble, as her mother had always joked. Satoko’s words came back to her. Many people will try to find you… Some of them may even want to hurt you…. But you can protect yourself, though you may not remember how. You’ll have to dig deep down. Can you do that? For me?

Once more, Soji’s stick thwacked her back, rattling her thoughts. And yet, she felt all the tension held there being released at the contact, allowing her to drop more deeply into the rhythm of her breath, as if coming home to something more elemental than the mind and its endless thoughts. She felt like an animal, following its instincts as it searched for peace. It wasn’t a bad feeling.

Jet didn’t know how much time had passed when the bell sounded again and Soji clapped the wooden sticks together. Meditation was over.

“Jet,” he said, “come speak with me.”

As they crossed the long main hall, the floorboards squeaked beneath their feet.

“In the old days,” he told her, “builders of palaces and temples put hinges between the cracks of floorboards. They’re called nightingales. That way, when the enemy tried to ambush, the nightingales sang.”

“Ambushed in a temple?” she asked, dubious.

“Nowhere’s safe,” he said. “As for the priests and monks, they were the best warriors. It was the perfect disguise.”

She thought she detected a note of admiration in his voice. Was Soji a warrior too?

“Now,” he said, “more importantly, it’s good that you are meditating. If you can control your mind, you can control your emotions. Then you can be strong.”

She looked away, afraid that he was disappointed in her.

“Whatever you do,” he said, “do it with awareness. That’s why we meditate. To stop the inner noise of thinking and notice the silence. In the silence, you can hear your inner voice. You can train yourself to trust your instincts.”

“What good are my instincts if Ojiisan died because of me?” Jet asked, anguish washing over her.

He sighed and looked at her pointedly. “Your grandfather was not killed because of you.”

“That’s not true. If I had been stronger on the mountain, if I had been quicker to respond, he’d still be here now.”

“Not so. But you will have to forgive yourself for that,” he said solemnly. Then he motioned for her to follow him out of the meditation hall into his study, closing the door behind them.

Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the darkened room. Rows of leatherbound books, scrolls in wooden boxes, and manuscripts cluttered the shelves. Stacks of books rose from the floor like columns in an ancient fortress. He walked over to a trunk near some bookshelves and pulled an envelope from the papers there, then blew off the dust.

“I promised Masakichi I would give this to you when the time was right.”

He handed it to her.

“Can I open it?” she asked.

“Go ahead.”

Trembling, she peeled back the flap and shook the contents toward her. A gold locket with an ideogram engraved in the front fell into her palm.

女

“Is this….?” She held the object in her hand, feeling a faint vibration. The locket sent a subtle energy coursing through her body, as if she’d been switched on by an invisible current. Her face flushed as she realized it was the same feeling she’d had when Takumi’s fingers had touched hers.

“It’s the character for ‘woman,’” Soji said. “The radicals that make up the ideogram are: くノ一.”

“く ku means 9. ノ no is a possessive, and 一 ichi means one. Some people say it means ten...” He looked down, then said in a voice so soft that only a spider traversing the floorboards could have heard it, “…holes.”

Jet blushed, understanding. “Like a woman’s body?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Whether it means that or not, however, is immaterial, as those three characters mean kunoichi.”

She took a breath. “And kunoichi means…?”

“Female ninja,” Soji whispered.

She looked at him apprehensively.

“And…?”

“The lineage is symbolized by this locket. Those who wear it are few, and hidden. The power of that tradition is embodied in this amulet.”

She deepened her breath to harness the energy that was coursing through her as she held the talisman.

“But,” she stammered, “it’s just a locket.”

“Yes, and no. It contains your history, which is the seat of your power. Open it.”

She did. Inside were pictures of her mother and another woman, both in beautiful kimonos, their black hair pulled back in buns.

“That’s your grandmother, Momoko.” He smiled.

“Momoko. That means peach child…” she murmured, recalling her mother mentioning the name.

“Right. She was the most powerful woman warrior in the Kuroi clan…” He lowered his voice and gazed directly into her eyes, making her tremble, “…as your mother was after her.”

“What?” she asked, startled. Her fingers clutched the locket involuntarily, as fear gripped her insides.

“As soon as your mother knew she was pregnant with a girl, she and your father left Japan to make a new life in America. She wanted to protect you from the struggles she had in Kanabe.”

Jet drew her clenched fist close to her heart. Her mind stuck on one word.

“My… father?”

“Yes, he was still with her then. After that, I don’t know…”

Soji smiled softly and crooked his fingers, signalling for Jet to return the locket.

She gave it back, but the thrumming didn’t stop.

“You’ll keep it here, then?” she asked, relieved to be free of its power and message.

“No.” He shook his head, smiling. “It belongs to you.” He twirled his fingers in the air, signalling for her to turn around. She did.

Gently, he put the locket’s chain around her neck and clasped it.

“There now. Turn around and let me see.”

She did as he asked, and he stepped back to study her.

“Very good,” he said, the lines of his face softening. “You are a ninja, and you must protect this symbol of that secret life. Happy birthday, Kunoichi.”

Though she was afraid, her chest sang more vibrantly now, as if the locket itself were humming. She touched the silver pendant, fighting back tears, tears at not knowing all the things her mother had promised to tell her someday.

“You should understand,” Soji said, “that all those years your mother was isolated from her family, she was trying to protect you. That’s why she did it. Please forgive her.”

“I know,” Jet murmurred. Hearing her uncle’s words, she felt all her resentment from her mother’s harsh training and survival games melt into appreciation and gratitude. Mom, you were just protecting me! I hope you’ll forgive me, wherever you are.

“She wanted to protect the tribe,” he said, studying her. “The ninja blood is in you, and your mother believed it was strong—that we would need you.”

“Maybe she got sick and died because it was too hard to hold it all inside, to keep so many secrets,” Jet said, feeling her stomach tighten.

“No. That’s not it.” Soji put a strong hand on her shoulder. “It was her time to go. You can’t blame anyone—especially not yourself.”

“At least she had J-Bird,” Jet cried, realizing that although her mother was thousands of miles and an ocean away from her home-land, she had managed to make a home.

“Yes. And she loved you both very much.” Soji nodded in agreement.

Jet’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait a minute! J-Bird! J-Bird must have known about this. Why didn’t he tell me?”

Soji bowed his head. “Well, it seems that J-Bird did know some things, but it wasn’t his place to tell you. You had to discover your connection to the past yourself.”

“Why?” She shook her head. It seemed so complicated, so strange. When they’d put Satoko in the white kimono and sent her off to heaven, J-Bird had said nothing. Had he betrayed her, too?

“Some people can be trained to have great strength, awareness and even power, but some are born with it in their blood. Like you. The locket is a symbol of that inheritance. It was passed down from the young woman who freed the Kuroi family from slavery.”

“The one in the stories?” Jet asked, startled to realize that her mother’s story about the girl might have been more than a myth.

“Yes,” he said. “She was a true master of the elements, and the women in her bloodline drew their power from the land, from the elements of the world in which they grew up, especially the wind.”

“But I didn’t grow up here.”

“The Kuroi clan women are deeply connected to the earth. Japan is in your blood, but so is America. You can draw your power from two tribal lands. You can be doubly powerful.”

Soji’s eyes shone in the darkness.

Jet glanced at the ground, uncertain. After Takumi’s betrayal, after her failure to help Ojiisan, now she learned it was her role to protect her family, to use whatever powers she had inherited from her ancestors and from both lands to do it. But could she? It seemed impossible, superhuman.

“I don’t know,” she stammered.

“Take some time to think it over. The choice has already been made,” he said. A gentle smile curved his lips. “It’s just a matter of accepting it.”

Jet bit her lip. She tried to remember what had given her the determination to battle her mother on the mountain when she’d thought she was facing a stranger.

It was fear for her mother’s life, she realized—the desire to protect her. Yes, that was it. This she could fight for—to protect Hiro, Soji, Aska—to defend what was left of her family. That she could do. But how far would she go to do it?

“There’s one thing I’ve wanted to ask.” Her voice faltered. “My mother said something about a dark leader. What did she mean?”

“Ah, that.” Soji took a deep breath. “Ninja almost always ended up fighting each other. Because they were bought, they often found themselves on opposing sides. The dark leader is the ninja who sells his soul for money, the one willing to betray the others.”

“Is there more than one?” she asked nervously.

Soji shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe she foresaw something, or maybe she was just referring to history. Let’s hope it’s not a real threat…”

A jolt ran through her body as she saw Takumi, saw his face as he admitted his true purpose. Takumi!

She closed her eyes. Was she ready to accept what she was, even if it meant coming up against someone like Takumi? Is that what her mother had warned her about?

She settled into her breath, then directed the movement of her breath into her belly.

A memory surfaced. On the reservation, J-Bird had given her costumes to put on as a child. No matter how clumsy she was, when she put on a ballerina’s pink tutu, she felt graceful and beautiful. When she’d worn the leather moccasins, dress, and feathers of J-Bird’s people, she’d felt strong and protected by the tribe and its animal spirits. What’s to stop me from becoming a ninja when I put on this locket? she wondered. Had J-Bird been preparing me, too?

She took a breath, felt the locket rise and fall on her chest. Isn’t this henge, too? Using what you have to fit in? The thought made her smile. Isn’t that ironic. I’ve never fit in anywhere before. A ninja’s strongest skill is the ability to blend in.

“Uncle Soji? Is it all right if I call J-Bird?” She needed to ask him for the truth. All of it. And soon!

“Of course,” he told her. “I have to go out to do an errand, but I’ll lock the place down.”

“Thank you,” she said, quickly collecting her things and rushing out of the room.

She ran back to her bungalow and picked up the phone Ojiisan had given them. As she dialed J-Bird in New Mexico, she ran her fingers over the locket as if it might give her the answers she desperately sought. It felt alive against her skin, and she tried to breathe in its power, its history, its magic.

The phone rang and rang.

Guide me, Mom! she pleaded, holding the locket. Teach me, Obaachan! she begged of her grandmother, Momoko, whose spirit too was embodied in the sacred feminine symbol.

Help me become the kunoichi you were. And quickly!

She knew that there was no time to lose.

Let this locket be my armor. Let it be strong and true.