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A small gasp is all it takes. Sanemi’s head turns towards the sound and he sees a darkened alley, the overhanging roofs shadowing it from the midday sun and heat. A woman is pressed against the wall, shrinking back from a man with furrowed eyebrows. The woman flinches as the man’s hand comes to rest on the building, blocking her from the main street with his arm. Sanemi is beside them before he even thinks.
“I sai-who the hell are you?” the man growls, looking at the newcomer from the corner of his eyes.
“Let her go and I may show you the same courtesy,” Sanemi replies, his voice low and even.
“Tch, what kind of bastard do you think you are?” the man challenges, looking the scarred man up and down quickly. “Some freak show,” he turns his gaze back to the wide-eyed woman.
A crack rings out through the alley and the man lets out a strangled scream. Sanemi holds a now broken finger in his grip, peeling the man’s hand off the wall. “Back away,” he commands.
“Bastard!” the man roars, swinging at Sanemi with his other hand. A flash catches his eye and he strikes upward, easily parrying the blow. The man’s hand goes limp and there’s a clatter as a knife hits the cobblestone street. Sanemi sweeps his foot out and kicks it further away. With one fluid motion, he wraps his hand around the man’s wrist, tumbles them both to the ground, and holds the would-be thief in an arm bar.
“Call the police, please,” he says calmly to the woman. She nods and rushes out to the main street. The man groans under Sanemi’s weight, his chest pressed tightly to the ground and his jaw already swelling where it hit the stones. A small crowd has formed along the outside of the alley, a semi-circle of curious faces looking on as the former Hashira holds the man down. A police officer pushes his way through the throng and Sanemi finally releases his grip. He explains the situation to a second officer, who arrives as the first secures some rope around the criminal’s hands. The woman, after guiding the police back to the scene, is standing off to the side, holding the corner of the building she’d been pinned against not long before.
The crowd disperses with the departure of the police and Sanemi lets out a small sigh through his nose. The woman tentatively steps forward and he hesitates picking up his pack. “Thank you very much,” she says quietly.
Sanemi nods. “Thieves are usually quite cowardly in truth,” he advises her. “More often than not, you can scare them off with just a couple moves.”
“Really?” Her eyes go wide.
He nods again. “For instance,” he mimes a few actions, such as swiping a hand off his wrist and twisting an arm off his shoulder. The woman copies his movements and he affirms her efforts. She smiles then, thanking him once more before walking out onto the street.
He picks his bag up and resumes his walk, looking for an inn to spend the night in the large town. He ignores the stares and whispers as he ambles through the market.
The next day, with pack in hand, he heads to the same market for a light meal before hitting the road again. He’s not sure where he’s wandering but the need to move is strong so he complies. He purchases a few skewers of meat and a small omelet, standing in an alley entrance to eat and eyeing a sweets vendor, trying to see what’s offered. The top of a head enters his view, suspiciously close to him. His gaze is pulled down and he meets the eyes of a woman, a stranger.
“Excuse me,” she says in a strong voice. Sanemi blinks and realizes there are five women standing around him, all seem older than himself. His body is frozen, looking between them. “We saw what you did yesterday,” the woman continues. A couple of the others nod. “Can you…can you show us too?”
“Hah?” His shoulders slump in confusion.
“You showed Kawanori-chan some ways to scare off thieves the other day,” another woman chimes in.
“We want to learn too,” a third one adds.
Sanemi stutters, looking around at their determined faces.
“Where are you staying?” His gaze turns back to the first woman, the one who walked up closest to him. “My family owns the ryokan on the edge of town. I’d be pleased to put you up for a time if you’ll teach us.”
An hour later, still unsure how it happened, Sanemi is putting his pack down on the table of a large ryokan room. The next day, instead of packing up and continuing down the road, he goes to the address one of them provided and is met by nearly a dozen women, all eager to learn to defend themselves.
The right side of her body solidly collides with something and she hears a grunt. “Oh, my sincerest apologies, please excuse me, I didn’t mean…” Apologies spill from her mouth as she clings to the doorframe with her left hand.
“I apologize, I wasn’t looking where I was walking, I should have…” A man’s voice, echoing the sentiments. It doesn’t sound like her brother in law, so her voice falters, wondering who she just bumped into.
“Nao, come on in,” her older sister’s voice encourages her. Nao’s head turns toward the sound, though there’s nothing for her to look at.
“I’m coming, Sister,” Nao responds. “Please excuse me,” she says, intending to apologize to the man again, but there’s no reply.
She hears more footsteps approaching and her sister’s hand comes down on her shoulder. “Come inside,” her voice urges.
“Who was that man?” Nao asks.
She steps into the entry and slips her shoes off in the far corner of the genkan, away from the others so she can easily find them when she leaves.
“Ah, that was Shinazugawa-san. He’s the one who’s been teaching our lessons I told you about.”
Nao remembers the stories her sister has told her over the past couple months. How a new man in town had intervened to stop a robbery at knife point. How the women at the market who saw came together and asked to learn how to defend themselves. How the lessons began to expand as they rotated between homes and invited more women around the town to join.
“When is the next lesson?” she asks.
Her sister makes a surprised sound. “Do you want to come?” Nao nods. “I’ll let you know next time it’s at my house,” her sister promises.
A couple weeks later, a bright voice meets Sanemi’s ears after wrapping up his lesson. He turns at the sound of his name and is faced with the young woman he bumped into the last time he was leaving this house. “My apologies,” he starts again.
The woman who owns the home, Kuran-san as she insisted Sanemi call her, approaches as well, cutting off his continued attempts at contrition. “Shinazugawa-san, this is my younger sister, Nao. Nao asked to come to today’s lesson.”
Sanemi blinks at the young woman. Her eyes are white, like Himejima’s, and the skin around them and her nose is mottled, not unlike the Master’s had been. She stands a head and a half shorter than him, even shorter than her sister. Her long black hair is pulled into a ponytail, bound at both the base of her neck and down towards the end. She looks nervous.
“What can I do for you, Nao-san?” he asks.
Nao inhales a small gasp, recognizing his voice. “Ah…that is….I was wondering if…if you could teach me as well. I know…I know I can’t practice with everyone else, but…I would like to learn some things too.” Her voice is soft but light, it reminds him a little of Lady Ubuyashiki.
Sanemi looks at Kuran, who nods. “Yes, I can do that.”
Nao smiles and bows a little. Kuran suggests that they meet when Sanemi teaches at her house, so she can accompany her sister back and forth to the lessons. He focuses on defending against grabs, starting slowly and practicing the same movement over and over again. Nao flinches often at first, no matter how gently he takes her wrist or shoulder, even with warning of the coming touch. Kuran watches the first couple sessions, but quickly starts to leave them alone and go about her evening chores as the two become more comfortable with each other.
“How do you think the lessons are going?” she asks her sister one night, escorting the blind woman home for the evening.
“I’m not sure, to be honest,” comes a quiet response. “Shinazugawa-san is very quiet, so it’s hard to get a read on how he’s moving or what he thinks.”
Kuran smiles. “Yeah, he’s been like that since we first talked to him. Hard to believe a guy like that used to be a bodyguard.”
“A bodyguard?”
“That’s what he told us,” she continues. “If you could see him, you’d understand. His personality really doesn’t match his appearance.”
“Oh,” Nao breathes.
As time passes, the ladies of the town greet him when they see him out and about. It feels like he can’t go anywhere without being stopped for a chat. They press small gifts into his hand from time to time, insisting through his vehement refusals. Snacks mostly. At first, it makes him anxious, but the more it happens the less he tenses when hearing his name called out.
The market really comes to life as the fireworks festival comes upon them. The stalls are bustling and vendors hawk specialty merchandise in flamboyant colors. Sanemi stands in the entrance of an alley, catching some shade like he had on that morning that now feels so long ago. Kuran sees him and smiles, motioning for him to come closer. He raises a hand in greeting but doesn’t move. The woman huffs and presses a young child’s hand into her husband’s before walking over.
“Good afternoon, Shinazugawa-san,” she greets, her voice not as warm as her words.
“Good afternoon, Kuran-san,” he returns, standing stiffly.
“My family is getting some dinner before the fireworks tonight. Will you join us?”
He blinks. “I…No, please, enjoy your night out at the festival.”
She crosses her arms. “Please, I insist.” Her body language betrays the cordiality of her invitation and he swallows.
“No,” he declines once more. “I’m sure your family…”
“Shinazugawa-san, I insist. And if you don’t have dinner with us, you know the other ladies will invite you when they see you sulking in the alley.” She stares steadily up at him. He looks out onto the street and sees her husband, still holding onto the child’s hand, and a couple of her siblings with their own. They’re all looking expectantly at him.
He sighs, relenting. “Of course. I appreciate your generosity.”
Now she smiles. “Good. Come along then.”
When the large group arrives at the restaurant, the rest of the family is already waiting, including each sibling’s spouse. Kuran guides Sanemi to sit towards the end of the table, across from Nao, who he’s since learned is the youngest of the family, just around his own age. He keeps his head down through the meal, listening to the large family and other patrons chatter around them. Slowly, he starts to relax and look around, still not engaging in the conversation that surrounds him but paying more attention. Whenever he lifts his head, he sees Nao first, always with a calm smile on her face.
He follows the large family to the hillside where residents and tourists alike gather for the display. Several of the other regular attendants of his lessons come up to Kuran to say hello and chat. Sanemi quietly engages them, trying to keep each interaction brief. The sun sets and a hush gradually falls over the lawn.
The first firework streaks into the sky and pops into a shower of white light. The former Hashira leans back, trying to remember the last time he attended such a festival. His hand slides across the grass and touches something warm. He looks up and pulls his hand away, seeing Nao doing the same thing.
“Excuse me,” he apologizes and sees her stiffen as she realizes who just touched her.
“It’s alright,” she says in reply. They sit quietly together for a moment and he hears her voice again as there’s a lull in the fireworks. “What color are they?” she asks.
He looks at her quickly, then back up to the sky. “White,” he tells her. “They’ve all been white so far. It’s still early though.” She nods.
“I remember,” she starts, pausing when there’s a series of pops again. “I remember seeing them when I was young. I always loved the yellow ones.” He looks at her and sees she’s smiling towards the sky as she thinks back on them. “Will you tell me which ones are yellow?”
“Sure,” he breathes. A louder boom pulls his eyes back to the sky. He watches and his eyes widen as the first colored fireworks start to join the display. The reds and greens are dull but suddenly there’s a vibrant flash of yellow. “Yellow,” he says. Nao’s head turns slightly toward him. “That one was yellow,” he tells her.
“How big was it?” she asks. Her voice is nearly lost in the next boom but he hears her.
“Not very big,” he says. “It was one of those that comes out as an empty circle shape instead of one large burst.” She nods, sightless eyes turned up to the sky. He continues to tell her about each of the yellow explosions above them.
Towards the end of autumn, Sanemi starts to insist that the next week will be his last in their village. The ladies complain, imploring him to stay, but he shakes his head. He’s convinced that he’s imposed for long enough, staying at the ryokan without pay for such a length of time. Kuran convinces him to have his last class at her home, so that Nao will have a chance to say goodbye as well.
The night comes and Nao walks into the room, confused. “My sister says you’re leaving?” she asks.
“Yeah,” Sanemi sighs. “I’ve been here a lot longer than I thought I would be. It’s time to keep going, before the snow makes it too hard to travel.”
“I see.”
“You’re doing very well,” he tells her. “I’m sure your sister can help you keep practicing after I leave.”
She nods, her head tilted down.
“I won’t warn you what I’m going to do this time. Show me how you would react if I did this.”
Nao stands in the middle of the room, her arms by her side. She takes a deep breath and Sanemi takes light steps around her. After he completes a circle, watching her face to see if she can keep track of where he is, he reaches out and takes hold of her wrist. She’s supposed to twist her arm up and away. She’s supposed to turn her hand on top of his and apply pressure to his wrist. She’s supposed to push his arm away and try to drive him to the floor. Instead, she stands there, hand limp under his grip.
“Nao-san,” he prompts her.
She takes a breath and turns towards him. “If it’s Shinazugawa-san,” she says slowly. “I’d do this.” She reaches toward his hand with her free arm and lays her hand across his. He stiffens, looking down at her. “What would you do?” she asks, her face bright red.
His face is tense, he sets his jaw to stop the trembling he feels in his lips. With a steadying breath he reaches out and puts his hand with the missing fingers on top of hers for the first time. “If it’s Nao-san, I would do this.”
She smiles.
“Maybe…maybe I’ll stay a little longer. Winter is a terrible time to travel.”