A Ninja Story - chapter 1
Pairing: Santana/Brittany
Rating: PG-13 (may change later on)
Words: ~4 400
Spoilers: None, completely A/U
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Summary: Eight year old Santana has been washed ashore in Japan. She is found by an old man who happens to be a ninja master. She grows up to become a shinobi, a ninja.
A/N: I don’t really speak Japanese so please excuse any mistakes in the Japanese phrases. I know it’s not customary to use the -desu form when speaking to children but I want Takai to be strangely polite to her when they first meet.
Many thanks to my awesome betabasisforming
chapter 2 chapter 3
Prologue
She runs through the corridor as fast as she can. The scream had come from the room farthest away. As she reaches the door she comes to a perfect standstill and takes a quick look around. There is no one else in the corridor. She reaches for her wakizashi, and with a swift movement she slides the shoji door open.
He has an arm around the woman’s waist. His other hand is covering her mouth. Her blue eyes are wide open in fear.
Santana acts on instinct. The shurkien leaves her hand before he sees her. There is a faint squelch as it hits its mark in his left eye. The strong poison enters his bloodstream immediately, and she rushes forward towards him as his arm loosens its grip of the blonade’s waist. He staggers backwards before slumping to the floor without a sound. She presses her shin against his mouth and muffles any sound he tries to make. His arms flap a little but the poison is already taking effect. A few moments later his eyes roll back in his head and his body is forever still.
The blue eyed woman doesn’t move. She just stares. Santana feels her heart pounding in her chest, as much from the sprint as from the scene in the room.
Those eyes. Santana has never before seen anything like them. They’re so blue. They’re mystifying. For a moment she can’t stop looking at them. They lock gazes with each other for what feels like an eternity, then she remembers where she is. With a last glance at the blond woman she turns around and silently leaves the way she came.
Chapter one
There is water everywhere! It washes up over the railing and crashes onto the deck, pushing and pulling her in all directions. She tries to hold on to a rope by one of the masts but her hands are slipping. The water pulls so hard and it’s so cold. The wind tears at her clothes and her wet hair whips her face. Where’s her papá? She hears the men shouting and screaming but she can’t hear her papá.
The ship rocks violently tilting from one side to the other. It’s getting harder to hold on to the rope. Her small fingers are turning white. She thinks she’s crying but she’s not sure. Her face is wet anyway.
“Papá,” she cries out. “Papá, help! Papá!”
Then the ship tilts even more to the side and she loses her footing. Barrels, ropes and boxes come sliding down the deck and plunge into the water. She’s hanging from the rope as the waves wash over her and she gulps for air. She mustn’t let go. She has to hold on! Her wet clothes feel so heavy and they cling to her body. They feel so cold. There’s water in her eyes and water in her mouth. Suddenly, the water engulfs her.
And then there is just darkness. Wet darkness.
She feels two fingers pressing against her neck and senses the presence of someone crouching down next to her. She hears a low voice mutter something she doesn’t understand. Slowly, she opens her eyes.
The sun is shining brightly out of the sky and she’s looking at a face. A pair of dark eyes are calmly looking at her. She thinks he’s old, but she’s not sure. His hair is grey and his eyes look strange. They’re almond shaped and it looks like he has no eyelids. His skin is the colour of bronze, not completely unlike hers. He keeps looking at her. She wants to say something but her lips would not form any words. She closes her eyes again. She is so tired.
He says something again. It sounds strange- Choppy, somehow. She’s never heard anyone speak like that before. He doesn’t sound angry, though she’s too tired to be afraid anyway.
When she wakes up again, he’s sitting next to her. He smiles and says something. She slowly sits up and finds she’s on a beach. It is still bright and the water looks calm and peaceful, nothing like the raging scary sea of the night before. Half of her dress has dried in the sunlight, but the part that has been pressed against the sand is still wet and the sand sticks to it. Her arms and legs are full of bruises and she’s really thirsty.
“Where is my papá?” she asks the man.
“Eh?” He looks at her and answers in the strange language.
“My papá? I want my papá.” She tries to hold back the tears but they well up and spill out of her eyes.
The man shakes his head and makes soothing noises while holding up his hands waving them slowly in front of her. She understands that he’s telling her not to cry. Swallowing hard, she wipes her face with the back of her hands.
“Who are you?” she asks.
He cocks his head to the side a little and looks at her questioningly.
“I’m Santana,” she sobs, pointing at herself.
“Santana…” he repeats. Awwh. Hm.. So desu. Watashi wa Takai desu. Hai. Takai.” He nods his head and puts his palm to his chest.
“Takai?” She has stopped crying.
“Hai! Hai. So desu. Watashi wa Takai desu. Anata wa Santana-chan desu.” He pronounces her name San-ta-na. The man beams at her. She nods and gives him a small smile.
Then she remembers how thirsty she is, and tries to make gestures to show him. She raises her hand, forming it like she is holding a cup before tilting it in front of her mouth. Takai nods and stands up, pointing towards a small path that leads away from the beach.
Slowly, she rises to her feet. Her right leg hurts a little and she sees that her dress is torn in several places. Then, she looks around for her father but the beach is empty. There is just sand and rocks.
They walk for a while. To Santana it feels like they’ve been walking forever, but in reality it may have taken them about half an hour to reach a small fishing village. The duration of the walk was held in companionable silence. On Santana’s part, it was mainly because she doesn’t know how to speak to Takai.
He notes that she doesn’t complain. Instead, she is stoic and proud. What a peculiar child. Something bad had obviously happened to this little girl. He found her alone and half drowned on the beach. And she’s a gai-jin, a foreigner. She must have arrived on a ship, but where is the ship and where are the sailors?
They enter the busy village and make their way over to a ryokan, an inn. Takai talks to a lady who shows them to a small room. She leaves them but promptly returns with cups of water, which Santana drinks greedily. The water tastes sweet and soothing. Takai holds out his cup towards her. With a brief, thankful smile she accepts the cup and drains it. When she’s done she stares wide eyed at the walls and doors and the strange soft floor. Takai has taken off his shoes and motioned to her to do the same. Her feet tread on the tatami mat. The room is strangely bare. She’s used to rooms full of furniture and paintings and carpets on the floor. In this room, there is only a small low table. There is one painting on the walls, and it doesn’t really look like a painting. It looks like someone has drawn black inky swirly lines with a paintbrush.
Takai leaves the room while she is standing in the middle of the floor, just looking at the strange room. He returns after a few minutes and beckons for her to come with him. She follows him down a corridor and into another room, which has a wooden floor and a large bathtub in the middle of it. It has been filled with hot water and she can see steam rising from the surface.
Takai makes a gesture towards the tub.
“Do so,” he says. She understands he wants her to take a bath. She nods at him and he quietly leaves the room.
She undresses until she stands shivering naked on the floor. Gingerly she climbs into the tub. The water is hot, but not too hot. It has a faint scent of flowers and herbs. When she sits down the surface comes up to her shoulders. She feels her body relax and she leans back. When she closes her eyes, pictures of the ship form in her mind. Of her sitting at a dinner table with her father and the other officers. Her playing on deck with the crewmembers. Her father tucking her in at night and saying evening prayers together. She misses her father. So much. She sniffs quietly as tears roll down her face and fall to become one with the bathwater. This is such a strange place. Everything looks different; everything smells different. The people all have black hair, except the older men and women who have grey or white hair. Their eyes look like Takai’s and she doesn’t understand what anyone is saying. She wishes she could speak their foreign tongue. She wants to go home. She misses her room and her toys.
She stays in the bath until the water turns cold. Then she gets up and finds a towel and a clean cotton robe that has been placed on a stool. She notices that her skin has gotten all soft and smooth from the bath. It smells faintly of the herbs. She puts on the plain yukata and rolls up the sleeves that are much too long for her, then proceeds to find her way back to the room.
When she gets there, she sees Takai sitting on the floor in front of the table. There is a pile of papers, a paintbrush and a small inkwell on the table top. He gestures for her to sit next to him before passing her the brush. He has drawn a ship on a piece of paper. The man points to it and looks at her.
“Santana-chan?” he says.
“Did you come here on a ship? Did your ship sink in the storm? Do you know if anybody else survived?” He asks her these questions but at the same time, he knows she doesn’t understand what he’s saying.
She thinks she understands what he’s saying. He wants to know if she was on a ship. He wants her to draw what happened.
She dips the tip of the brush in the black ink and begins to draw.
After a light meal Takai opens a cupboard and takes out two futons, laying them out and placing heavy covers on them. The child kneels and clasps her hands together, bows her head and starts mumbling something. When she’s finished she gets under the covers. Within minutes her breathing has evened out and he can conclude that she has fallen asleep.
He smiles to himself and picks up the pile of drawings. There are pictures of her and two people he assumes are her parents, and three siblings. In one of the pictures it says “8 años” above Santana. He guesses she is eight years old. It appears she has a dog. He smiles again. There is a picture of her and her father onboard a ship. Then there are pictures of the storm. Waves that wash over the ship; men in the water waving their arms with their mouths open. He imagines her alone and afraid on a ship about to sink. She must have been terrified. Yet she seems so calm and collected now. She is a most intriguing little girl.
With that last lingering thought, he puts the lantern out and goes to bed.
The next day they both wake up early. Santana braids her hair and washes her face in a basin. She is still wearing the yukata with a wide belt to hold it in place as her own dress is too torn to wear. The ryokan-lady comes to their room with a tray filled with food. There is soup, noodles, fried fish, rice and toasted seaweed. There are also cups of tea. Along with the food, there are four wooden sticks on the tray. Takai picks up two and holds them in his hand and starts eating when he notices the girl is staring at him. She carefully picks up the other two sticks and tries to hold them like he does. He helps her adjust the chopsticks in her small hand.
“Hashi,” he says and points to the chopsticks.
“Hashi,” she repeats and he nods at her.
She drops some of her food. The hashi won’t move the way she wants them to but she manages to get some breakfast into her.
The lady has also left them a bundle filled with food. Takai puts it in his bag and lets her know it is time for them to go.
They set out in the morning sunlight heading away from the coast up towards the mountains. She looks back towards the glittering sea, one thought forming in her head.
Papá…
**********
They pass endless fields and head through luscious green woods. They walk for three days, spending each night at a ryokan. It’s always the same. They have supper, and then she has a bath. When she comes back, Takai goes for his bath. Then they draw each other pictures, telling one another things about themselves. When they’re done, he makes their futons and she goes to bed while he stays up a little longer. She feels safe lying under the heavy cover, watching him sit by the table in the soft light from a lantern.
He’s teaching her words in his language and she soaks them up like a sponge. On the second day she starts stringing words together. He thinks she’s a remarkable child.
She likes him. He is so calm and he is kind to her. He never gets impatient. From his drawings she has gathered he lives in a village in a big house with other people. She thinks he is some kind of teacher.
He has started shortening her name. He calls her San-chan.
On the fourth day they reach his village. It’s located at the top of a hill and the climb up is steep. Her feet are so tired. He has explained they are in an area called Iga.
She notes that people greet Takai by bowing. She’s seen other people bow to each other along the way. They walk through the village up towards a large house. When they reach the door he holds up a hand.
“Chotto matte, San-chan.” She understands that he wants her to wait for a moment. He removes his shoes and disappears into the house.
She stands on the wooden deck and looks around. The village looks like many of the other villages they have passed through. The people are dressed in plain but tidy clothes. They look neither poor, nor rich. She’s still wearing her yukata. It needs a wash.
Takai returns and beckons her to enter the house. He leads her through winding corridors until he stops in front of a door. He slides it open and holds out his hand to show her inside. There are several scrolls on the wall. She knows now that the swirly lines are writing. There is a table and a few shelves. There is a large cupboard alongside one of the walls. She knows that is where Takai keeps his futon and bedcover.
They have supper around a large table with five other men. One of them is very old. Santana secretly stares at him when no one is watching. She thinks he looks like he’s a hundred years old. His hair is white, and so is his thin beard. His face is filled with wrinkles and he has bushy eyebrows. Takai tells her his name is Kato-sensei. They dine on rice, pickled vegetables, tofu and omelettes. She still struggles a little with her chopsticks but she manages to eat until she’s full. The men talk and she understands a few words here and there. Eventually she gets bored and she feels how tired she is after their long journey. She whispers to him that she’s tired.
He excuses them both and she understands he’s telling Kato-sensei that he will be back.
He escorts her to the bathroom and leaves her while she bathes. He returns twenty minutes later to take her back to the room. He has laid out their futons on the floor. Sleepily, she says her evening prayers and climbs into bed and he pats her goodnight. He leaves the small lantern lit and leaves to rejoin the men in the other room. She falls asleep almost immediately, and dreams of gliding through the water on a ship.
She wakes in the morning as he enters the room. He’s carrying a tray with rice and a simple soup. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes, then moves over to the small table. There is a small pile of clothes on the floor. He points to them and then to her. Two sets of undergarments and two clean yukatas. After breakfast she changes into clean clothes and as soon as she is done, he rises and beckons her to follow. They leave the house and walk a short distance to another building. It’s large and it’s all one big room.
“Dojo,” he says.
Soon a bunch of boys start to pour in. They all bow deeply in front of Takai. Then they stand in straight lines, facing their teacher. When it seems the last of them has positioned himself, Takai looks at them. Santana notes that the youngest boys must be about her age while the oldest is at least three heads taller than she is.
Takai calls out loudly and the boys reply in unison while they take a step forward and make hitting movements with their arms and hands. Takai calls out again and the boys make more movements. It’s like a stop-start dance. Santana sits in a corner and watches. After only a few minutes she finds herself mimicking the boys arm movements. She concentrates on getting the movements right. It’s a bit hard to remember in which order to do them.
At a break Takai tells her she can look around in the village but she wants to stay. Not only is she reluctant to go somewhere without him, but she also wants to watch the boys train.
In the afternoon the younger boys leave the dojo and older boys arrive. Santana decides to go explore the village for a while after all.
She draws in the scents of the village. It smells of grass, animals, earth and smoke. Similar, but so different from where she comes from. Everything here looks so different, but when she thinks about it, it’s really quite similar to home. Home.. She feels a lump in her stomach. Mami.. Juan, José, Anna. Her dog Pepito. She misses them something awful. As she walks through rice paddies and wheat fields, she gazes at the distant mountains and listens to the birds. Home seems like a million years ago. Almost like it was only a dream. She knows she is in a place called Nihon but she doesn’t know where in the world that is.
Days pass. Weeks pass. Eventually it’s summer again.
Each day, she follows the same routine. In the morning, she accompanies Takai to the dojo and watches the boys train. In the afternoon she goes for a walk. Some of the villagers recognise her now and sometimes she stops to talk to some of them. Her sentences are short and simple. A lot of the time it’s mainly greetings but it cheers her up when people wave at her and call “Hi San-chan!”. It makes her smile and she waves back.
In the evening after supper, Takai tutors her. He teaches her more words and she’s learning to write too. It’s hard! There are so many lines to remember and it’s difficult to get them to look good. Writing with a brush is also harder than writing with a quill.
It’s late afternoon when Takai unexpectedly comes back to the room to fetch a scroll. He’s expecting Santana to be out on one of her walks, but instead she’s in the room, standing in the middle of the floor with her back to him. Her legs are slightly bent and her arms move swiftly through the air in a long series of complicated moves. He stills. She takes a step forward, still moving her arms. Her posture is straight and she’s perfectly balanced. She finishes the routine, lets her arms fall to her sides and bows deeply.
She must have sensed his presence. Slowly she turns around and her eyes meet his. She feels embarrassed and blushes a little.
“Have you revised your homework for tonight?”
“Yes Takai-san,” she replies, still looking a little flustered.
“Good. Good.” He gets the scroll and leaves again.
‘She’s such a serious child,’ he thinks to himself. He wonders if she was like that before the voyage.
The next morning they follow their usual morning routine. Takai fetches them breakfast while Santana washes and puts the futons away. Eating with chopsticks isn’t hard any more. After she has finished he looks at her.
“San-chan…” He gets up and grabs something from out of a chest. “San-chan, put these on.” He hands her a small pile of clothes.
As she unfolds the cotton garments she realises it’s a gi, work out clothes. The same as the boys wear in the dojo. She looks up at Takai with a question in her eyes.
“Today, you start training with the boys, San-chan.”
She tears off her yukata and puts the gi on. It fits her well. She tightens the belt around her slender body. Then she suddenly stops.
“Takai-san, what will the boys say? And is it ok with Kato-sensei?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. And from now on you call me Takai-sensei or just sensei, like the boys.”
“Yes sensei.” She bows before him.
She feels a little shy taking a spot on the floor in the dojo. She’s watched the boys train so many times she doesn’t have a problem following the routines. He notices the fluidity in her movements.
*************************
There is a taste of blood in her mouth but she keeps running. It’s heavy going in the tall grass and the hill is steep. She can hear him panting behind her and she pushes herself to the limit. She can’t let him catch her. She nearly trips but scrambles to regain her balance and keeps running. She’s almost there, just a little bit further. The muscles in her legs are screaming but she ignores them, forces them to take the next step. She’s so close now. She holds out her hand and there! She’s grabbed the flag!
She drops to her knees and lets herself fall over and lies on her back, gasping for air.
“You are the most stubborn person in the whole world San-chan!” Koichi laughs and lies down next to her, panting heavily.
“You’re just slow Koichi. I keep fit. You should try it sometime.” She sticks her tongue out at him. He slaps her on the shoulder and laughs.
“It’s not fair. You’re so much lighter than I am.”
“Maybe you should try eating less nabe so you don’t get so fat.”
“I’m not fat!” He pulls up his shirt and exposes his stomach. His abdominal muscles show clearly in two neat rows. Look! No fat!” He pinches at the skin. There isn’t a trace of fat.
She sits up and looks at him, serious now.
“Sensei says there may be a mission soon. He’s been talking to Lord Kawada. He wants to defeat Lord Tanka one and for all and rumour has it he may call in aid from Iga. I want to go on this mission. I want to do what I’ve been training for all these years.” He can see the determination in her eyes.
He looks at his unusual best friend. Not only is she a girl, she is also a gai-jin and on top of that, she’s a fully trained ninja. They’ve been training together since they were nine. He was the first of the boys to talk to her when she joined them. At the time, her Japanese had been faltering and she was usually very quiet. She hadn’t been unfriendly, just… reserved. He knows she’s very pretty but he has never really thought of her in that way. Even if he had, she is the shoinin’s, the ninja master’s daughter. He has more sense than to go there. In fact he’s often asked for her advice about girls and she dresses like a boy most of the time. She almost always wears her hair in a long tight braid, her skin is browner than his. She is slender and quite small in stature but he knows how toned she is. She is all muscle. He also knows how flexible and fast she is. Fast as the wind and she can outrun several of them. Her head is as quick as her feet. That’s what actually makes her deadly. Although her technique is excellent she does not have the strength or height of the boys but she outsmarts her opponents in combat. It’s like she can sense what their next move will be.
“Come on,” she rises to her feet and stars walking down the hill again. He follows.
“San, why do you call him sensei? He’s your dad.”
She shrugs.
“He told me to when I started training and I don’t know, we know what we are to each other. He is my only family but you know I had a family before him. When I was Santana Lopez.” She smiles a little sadly. Lopez. The name tastes foreign in her mouth. She still talks to herself in Spanish sometimes. Just so that she won’t forget what she was but she knows words are disappearing from her vocabulary. Instead she’s perfectly fluent in Japanese and her handwriting is beautiful. Being left-handed is even convenient writing from the top down, from right to left.
Rating: PG-13 (may change later on)
Words: ~4 400
Spoilers: None, completely A/U
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Summary: Eight year old Santana has been washed ashore in Japan. She is found by an old man who happens to be a ninja master. She grows up to become a shinobi, a ninja.
A/N: I don’t really speak Japanese so please excuse any mistakes in the Japanese phrases. I know it’s not customary to use the -desu form when speaking to children but I want Takai to be strangely polite to her when they first meet.
Many thanks to my awesome betabasisforming
chapter 2 chapter 3
Prologue
She runs through the corridor as fast as she can. The scream had come from the room farthest away. As she reaches the door she comes to a perfect standstill and takes a quick look around. There is no one else in the corridor. She reaches for her wakizashi, and with a swift movement she slides the shoji door open.
He has an arm around the woman’s waist. His other hand is covering her mouth. Her blue eyes are wide open in fear.
Santana acts on instinct. The shurkien leaves her hand before he sees her. There is a faint squelch as it hits its mark in his left eye. The strong poison enters his bloodstream immediately, and she rushes forward towards him as his arm loosens its grip of the blonade’s waist. He staggers backwards before slumping to the floor without a sound. She presses her shin against his mouth and muffles any sound he tries to make. His arms flap a little but the poison is already taking effect. A few moments later his eyes roll back in his head and his body is forever still.
The blue eyed woman doesn’t move. She just stares. Santana feels her heart pounding in her chest, as much from the sprint as from the scene in the room.
Those eyes. Santana has never before seen anything like them. They’re so blue. They’re mystifying. For a moment she can’t stop looking at them. They lock gazes with each other for what feels like an eternity, then she remembers where she is. With a last glance at the blond woman she turns around and silently leaves the way she came.
Chapter one
There is water everywhere! It washes up over the railing and crashes onto the deck, pushing and pulling her in all directions. She tries to hold on to a rope by one of the masts but her hands are slipping. The water pulls so hard and it’s so cold. The wind tears at her clothes and her wet hair whips her face. Where’s her papá? She hears the men shouting and screaming but she can’t hear her papá.
The ship rocks violently tilting from one side to the other. It’s getting harder to hold on to the rope. Her small fingers are turning white. She thinks she’s crying but she’s not sure. Her face is wet anyway.
“Papá,” she cries out. “Papá, help! Papá!”
Then the ship tilts even more to the side and she loses her footing. Barrels, ropes and boxes come sliding down the deck and plunge into the water. She’s hanging from the rope as the waves wash over her and she gulps for air. She mustn’t let go. She has to hold on! Her wet clothes feel so heavy and they cling to her body. They feel so cold. There’s water in her eyes and water in her mouth. Suddenly, the water engulfs her.
And then there is just darkness. Wet darkness.
She feels two fingers pressing against her neck and senses the presence of someone crouching down next to her. She hears a low voice mutter something she doesn’t understand. Slowly, she opens her eyes.
The sun is shining brightly out of the sky and she’s looking at a face. A pair of dark eyes are calmly looking at her. She thinks he’s old, but she’s not sure. His hair is grey and his eyes look strange. They’re almond shaped and it looks like he has no eyelids. His skin is the colour of bronze, not completely unlike hers. He keeps looking at her. She wants to say something but her lips would not form any words. She closes her eyes again. She is so tired.
He says something again. It sounds strange- Choppy, somehow. She’s never heard anyone speak like that before. He doesn’t sound angry, though she’s too tired to be afraid anyway.
When she wakes up again, he’s sitting next to her. He smiles and says something. She slowly sits up and finds she’s on a beach. It is still bright and the water looks calm and peaceful, nothing like the raging scary sea of the night before. Half of her dress has dried in the sunlight, but the part that has been pressed against the sand is still wet and the sand sticks to it. Her arms and legs are full of bruises and she’s really thirsty.
“Where is my papá?” she asks the man.
“Eh?” He looks at her and answers in the strange language.
“My papá? I want my papá.” She tries to hold back the tears but they well up and spill out of her eyes.
The man shakes his head and makes soothing noises while holding up his hands waving them slowly in front of her. She understands that he’s telling her not to cry. Swallowing hard, she wipes her face with the back of her hands.
“Who are you?” she asks.
He cocks his head to the side a little and looks at her questioningly.
“I’m Santana,” she sobs, pointing at herself.
“Santana…” he repeats. Awwh. Hm.. So desu. Watashi wa Takai desu. Hai. Takai.” He nods his head and puts his palm to his chest.
“Takai?” She has stopped crying.
“Hai! Hai. So desu. Watashi wa Takai desu. Anata wa Santana-chan desu.” He pronounces her name San-ta-na. The man beams at her. She nods and gives him a small smile.
Then she remembers how thirsty she is, and tries to make gestures to show him. She raises her hand, forming it like she is holding a cup before tilting it in front of her mouth. Takai nods and stands up, pointing towards a small path that leads away from the beach.
Slowly, she rises to her feet. Her right leg hurts a little and she sees that her dress is torn in several places. Then, she looks around for her father but the beach is empty. There is just sand and rocks.
They walk for a while. To Santana it feels like they’ve been walking forever, but in reality it may have taken them about half an hour to reach a small fishing village. The duration of the walk was held in companionable silence. On Santana’s part, it was mainly because she doesn’t know how to speak to Takai.
He notes that she doesn’t complain. Instead, she is stoic and proud. What a peculiar child. Something bad had obviously happened to this little girl. He found her alone and half drowned on the beach. And she’s a gai-jin, a foreigner. She must have arrived on a ship, but where is the ship and where are the sailors?
They enter the busy village and make their way over to a ryokan, an inn. Takai talks to a lady who shows them to a small room. She leaves them but promptly returns with cups of water, which Santana drinks greedily. The water tastes sweet and soothing. Takai holds out his cup towards her. With a brief, thankful smile she accepts the cup and drains it. When she’s done she stares wide eyed at the walls and doors and the strange soft floor. Takai has taken off his shoes and motioned to her to do the same. Her feet tread on the tatami mat. The room is strangely bare. She’s used to rooms full of furniture and paintings and carpets on the floor. In this room, there is only a small low table. There is one painting on the walls, and it doesn’t really look like a painting. It looks like someone has drawn black inky swirly lines with a paintbrush.
Takai leaves the room while she is standing in the middle of the floor, just looking at the strange room. He returns after a few minutes and beckons for her to come with him. She follows him down a corridor and into another room, which has a wooden floor and a large bathtub in the middle of it. It has been filled with hot water and she can see steam rising from the surface.
Takai makes a gesture towards the tub.
“Do so,” he says. She understands he wants her to take a bath. She nods at him and he quietly leaves the room.
She undresses until she stands shivering naked on the floor. Gingerly she climbs into the tub. The water is hot, but not too hot. It has a faint scent of flowers and herbs. When she sits down the surface comes up to her shoulders. She feels her body relax and she leans back. When she closes her eyes, pictures of the ship form in her mind. Of her sitting at a dinner table with her father and the other officers. Her playing on deck with the crewmembers. Her father tucking her in at night and saying evening prayers together. She misses her father. So much. She sniffs quietly as tears roll down her face and fall to become one with the bathwater. This is such a strange place. Everything looks different; everything smells different. The people all have black hair, except the older men and women who have grey or white hair. Their eyes look like Takai’s and she doesn’t understand what anyone is saying. She wishes she could speak their foreign tongue. She wants to go home. She misses her room and her toys.
She stays in the bath until the water turns cold. Then she gets up and finds a towel and a clean cotton robe that has been placed on a stool. She notices that her skin has gotten all soft and smooth from the bath. It smells faintly of the herbs. She puts on the plain yukata and rolls up the sleeves that are much too long for her, then proceeds to find her way back to the room.
When she gets there, she sees Takai sitting on the floor in front of the table. There is a pile of papers, a paintbrush and a small inkwell on the table top. He gestures for her to sit next to him before passing her the brush. He has drawn a ship on a piece of paper. The man points to it and looks at her.
“Santana-chan?” he says.
“Did you come here on a ship? Did your ship sink in the storm? Do you know if anybody else survived?” He asks her these questions but at the same time, he knows she doesn’t understand what he’s saying.
She thinks she understands what he’s saying. He wants to know if she was on a ship. He wants her to draw what happened.
She dips the tip of the brush in the black ink and begins to draw.
After a light meal Takai opens a cupboard and takes out two futons, laying them out and placing heavy covers on them. The child kneels and clasps her hands together, bows her head and starts mumbling something. When she’s finished she gets under the covers. Within minutes her breathing has evened out and he can conclude that she has fallen asleep.
He smiles to himself and picks up the pile of drawings. There are pictures of her and two people he assumes are her parents, and three siblings. In one of the pictures it says “8 años” above Santana. He guesses she is eight years old. It appears she has a dog. He smiles again. There is a picture of her and her father onboard a ship. Then there are pictures of the storm. Waves that wash over the ship; men in the water waving their arms with their mouths open. He imagines her alone and afraid on a ship about to sink. She must have been terrified. Yet she seems so calm and collected now. She is a most intriguing little girl.
With that last lingering thought, he puts the lantern out and goes to bed.
The next day they both wake up early. Santana braids her hair and washes her face in a basin. She is still wearing the yukata with a wide belt to hold it in place as her own dress is too torn to wear. The ryokan-lady comes to their room with a tray filled with food. There is soup, noodles, fried fish, rice and toasted seaweed. There are also cups of tea. Along with the food, there are four wooden sticks on the tray. Takai picks up two and holds them in his hand and starts eating when he notices the girl is staring at him. She carefully picks up the other two sticks and tries to hold them like he does. He helps her adjust the chopsticks in her small hand.
“Hashi,” he says and points to the chopsticks.
“Hashi,” she repeats and he nods at her.
She drops some of her food. The hashi won’t move the way she wants them to but she manages to get some breakfast into her.
The lady has also left them a bundle filled with food. Takai puts it in his bag and lets her know it is time for them to go.
They set out in the morning sunlight heading away from the coast up towards the mountains. She looks back towards the glittering sea, one thought forming in her head.
Papá…
**********
They pass endless fields and head through luscious green woods. They walk for three days, spending each night at a ryokan. It’s always the same. They have supper, and then she has a bath. When she comes back, Takai goes for his bath. Then they draw each other pictures, telling one another things about themselves. When they’re done, he makes their futons and she goes to bed while he stays up a little longer. She feels safe lying under the heavy cover, watching him sit by the table in the soft light from a lantern.
He’s teaching her words in his language and she soaks them up like a sponge. On the second day she starts stringing words together. He thinks she’s a remarkable child.
She likes him. He is so calm and he is kind to her. He never gets impatient. From his drawings she has gathered he lives in a village in a big house with other people. She thinks he is some kind of teacher.
He has started shortening her name. He calls her San-chan.
On the fourth day they reach his village. It’s located at the top of a hill and the climb up is steep. Her feet are so tired. He has explained they are in an area called Iga.
She notes that people greet Takai by bowing. She’s seen other people bow to each other along the way. They walk through the village up towards a large house. When they reach the door he holds up a hand.
“Chotto matte, San-chan.” She understands that he wants her to wait for a moment. He removes his shoes and disappears into the house.
She stands on the wooden deck and looks around. The village looks like many of the other villages they have passed through. The people are dressed in plain but tidy clothes. They look neither poor, nor rich. She’s still wearing her yukata. It needs a wash.
Takai returns and beckons her to enter the house. He leads her through winding corridors until he stops in front of a door. He slides it open and holds out his hand to show her inside. There are several scrolls on the wall. She knows now that the swirly lines are writing. There is a table and a few shelves. There is a large cupboard alongside one of the walls. She knows that is where Takai keeps his futon and bedcover.
They have supper around a large table with five other men. One of them is very old. Santana secretly stares at him when no one is watching. She thinks he looks like he’s a hundred years old. His hair is white, and so is his thin beard. His face is filled with wrinkles and he has bushy eyebrows. Takai tells her his name is Kato-sensei. They dine on rice, pickled vegetables, tofu and omelettes. She still struggles a little with her chopsticks but she manages to eat until she’s full. The men talk and she understands a few words here and there. Eventually she gets bored and she feels how tired she is after their long journey. She whispers to him that she’s tired.
He excuses them both and she understands he’s telling Kato-sensei that he will be back.
He escorts her to the bathroom and leaves her while she bathes. He returns twenty minutes later to take her back to the room. He has laid out their futons on the floor. Sleepily, she says her evening prayers and climbs into bed and he pats her goodnight. He leaves the small lantern lit and leaves to rejoin the men in the other room. She falls asleep almost immediately, and dreams of gliding through the water on a ship.
She wakes in the morning as he enters the room. He’s carrying a tray with rice and a simple soup. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes, then moves over to the small table. There is a small pile of clothes on the floor. He points to them and then to her. Two sets of undergarments and two clean yukatas. After breakfast she changes into clean clothes and as soon as she is done, he rises and beckons her to follow. They leave the house and walk a short distance to another building. It’s large and it’s all one big room.
“Dojo,” he says.
Soon a bunch of boys start to pour in. They all bow deeply in front of Takai. Then they stand in straight lines, facing their teacher. When it seems the last of them has positioned himself, Takai looks at them. Santana notes that the youngest boys must be about her age while the oldest is at least three heads taller than she is.
Takai calls out loudly and the boys reply in unison while they take a step forward and make hitting movements with their arms and hands. Takai calls out again and the boys make more movements. It’s like a stop-start dance. Santana sits in a corner and watches. After only a few minutes she finds herself mimicking the boys arm movements. She concentrates on getting the movements right. It’s a bit hard to remember in which order to do them.
At a break Takai tells her she can look around in the village but she wants to stay. Not only is she reluctant to go somewhere without him, but she also wants to watch the boys train.
In the afternoon the younger boys leave the dojo and older boys arrive. Santana decides to go explore the village for a while after all.
She draws in the scents of the village. It smells of grass, animals, earth and smoke. Similar, but so different from where she comes from. Everything here looks so different, but when she thinks about it, it’s really quite similar to home. Home.. She feels a lump in her stomach. Mami.. Juan, José, Anna. Her dog Pepito. She misses them something awful. As she walks through rice paddies and wheat fields, she gazes at the distant mountains and listens to the birds. Home seems like a million years ago. Almost like it was only a dream. She knows she is in a place called Nihon but she doesn’t know where in the world that is.
Days pass. Weeks pass. Eventually it’s summer again.
Each day, she follows the same routine. In the morning, she accompanies Takai to the dojo and watches the boys train. In the afternoon she goes for a walk. Some of the villagers recognise her now and sometimes she stops to talk to some of them. Her sentences are short and simple. A lot of the time it’s mainly greetings but it cheers her up when people wave at her and call “Hi San-chan!”. It makes her smile and she waves back.
In the evening after supper, Takai tutors her. He teaches her more words and she’s learning to write too. It’s hard! There are so many lines to remember and it’s difficult to get them to look good. Writing with a brush is also harder than writing with a quill.
It’s late afternoon when Takai unexpectedly comes back to the room to fetch a scroll. He’s expecting Santana to be out on one of her walks, but instead she’s in the room, standing in the middle of the floor with her back to him. Her legs are slightly bent and her arms move swiftly through the air in a long series of complicated moves. He stills. She takes a step forward, still moving her arms. Her posture is straight and she’s perfectly balanced. She finishes the routine, lets her arms fall to her sides and bows deeply.
She must have sensed his presence. Slowly she turns around and her eyes meet his. She feels embarrassed and blushes a little.
“Have you revised your homework for tonight?”
“Yes Takai-san,” she replies, still looking a little flustered.
“Good. Good.” He gets the scroll and leaves again.
‘She’s such a serious child,’ he thinks to himself. He wonders if she was like that before the voyage.
The next morning they follow their usual morning routine. Takai fetches them breakfast while Santana washes and puts the futons away. Eating with chopsticks isn’t hard any more. After she has finished he looks at her.
“San-chan…” He gets up and grabs something from out of a chest. “San-chan, put these on.” He hands her a small pile of clothes.
As she unfolds the cotton garments she realises it’s a gi, work out clothes. The same as the boys wear in the dojo. She looks up at Takai with a question in her eyes.
“Today, you start training with the boys, San-chan.”
She tears off her yukata and puts the gi on. It fits her well. She tightens the belt around her slender body. Then she suddenly stops.
“Takai-san, what will the boys say? And is it ok with Kato-sensei?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. And from now on you call me Takai-sensei or just sensei, like the boys.”
“Yes sensei.” She bows before him.
She feels a little shy taking a spot on the floor in the dojo. She’s watched the boys train so many times she doesn’t have a problem following the routines. He notices the fluidity in her movements.
*************************
There is a taste of blood in her mouth but she keeps running. It’s heavy going in the tall grass and the hill is steep. She can hear him panting behind her and she pushes herself to the limit. She can’t let him catch her. She nearly trips but scrambles to regain her balance and keeps running. She’s almost there, just a little bit further. The muscles in her legs are screaming but she ignores them, forces them to take the next step. She’s so close now. She holds out her hand and there! She’s grabbed the flag!
She drops to her knees and lets herself fall over and lies on her back, gasping for air.
“You are the most stubborn person in the whole world San-chan!” Koichi laughs and lies down next to her, panting heavily.
“You’re just slow Koichi. I keep fit. You should try it sometime.” She sticks her tongue out at him. He slaps her on the shoulder and laughs.
“It’s not fair. You’re so much lighter than I am.”
“Maybe you should try eating less nabe so you don’t get so fat.”
“I’m not fat!” He pulls up his shirt and exposes his stomach. His abdominal muscles show clearly in two neat rows. Look! No fat!” He pinches at the skin. There isn’t a trace of fat.
She sits up and looks at him, serious now.
“Sensei says there may be a mission soon. He’s been talking to Lord Kawada. He wants to defeat Lord Tanka one and for all and rumour has it he may call in aid from Iga. I want to go on this mission. I want to do what I’ve been training for all these years.” He can see the determination in her eyes.
He looks at his unusual best friend. Not only is she a girl, she is also a gai-jin and on top of that, she’s a fully trained ninja. They’ve been training together since they were nine. He was the first of the boys to talk to her when she joined them. At the time, her Japanese had been faltering and she was usually very quiet. She hadn’t been unfriendly, just… reserved. He knows she’s very pretty but he has never really thought of her in that way. Even if he had, she is the shoinin’s, the ninja master’s daughter. He has more sense than to go there. In fact he’s often asked for her advice about girls and she dresses like a boy most of the time. She almost always wears her hair in a long tight braid, her skin is browner than his. She is slender and quite small in stature but he knows how toned she is. She is all muscle. He also knows how flexible and fast she is. Fast as the wind and she can outrun several of them. Her head is as quick as her feet. That’s what actually makes her deadly. Although her technique is excellent she does not have the strength or height of the boys but she outsmarts her opponents in combat. It’s like she can sense what their next move will be.
“Come on,” she rises to her feet and stars walking down the hill again. He follows.
“San, why do you call him sensei? He’s your dad.”
She shrugs.
“He told me to when I started training and I don’t know, we know what we are to each other. He is my only family but you know I had a family before him. When I was Santana Lopez.” She smiles a little sadly. Lopez. The name tastes foreign in her mouth. She still talks to herself in Spanish sometimes. Just so that she won’t forget what she was but she knows words are disappearing from her vocabulary. Instead she’s perfectly fluent in Japanese and her handwriting is beautiful. Being left-handed is even convenient writing from the top down, from right to left.