“Sounds like my daughter.” He shook his head, laughing, and Jet felt that this peaceful old man couldn’t possibly know about the danger her mother had mentioned.
Jet closed her eyes, trying to stay focused on her story.
“It was really hard. And I couldn’t tell anyone about it. She swore me to secrecy.” She sighed, recalling all the times she was taunted by the school bully. Because she’d promised her mother she’d never reveal her skills to anyone, she couldn’t fight back.
“I know the feeling,” Ojiisan told her. “My own grandfather, Jinzaemon, made me learn similar tricks. It was difficult. Impossible, really.”
“Really?” Jet asked. “Like what?” She wanted to hear all about her family.
Ojiisan deflected her inquiry. “You’ll have lots of time to learn about Jinzaemon later. Now I want to hear all about you.”
“Okay,” she replied, hoping he’d change his mind. “I was really awkward at first. But after three years. I managed to walk on wet tissue paper without tearing it.” She remembered how proud she’d felt. Satoko had said, Wonderful! You’re as stealthy as a cat. Jet hoped that Ojiisan didn’t notice her eyes watering as she recalled the rare words of praise.
“So why don’t you tell me what you did yesterday?” he asked softly.
“Well, when the birds flew out of the bush, I took advantage of the distraction. I caught one in my hand and put it in the backpack. Then I threw the backpack over to a branch across the waterfall. The bird moved inside, and Hiro followed the movement. I was already hiding by then, holding my breath.”
“That’s a lot to do in a few seconds!” he exclaimed.
“I didn’t say it was easy… I had to focus all of my energy. On top of that, I was scared. Anyway, was that sozu?”
“Indeed. Sozu is the old Japanese word for scarecrow. When a warrior wants to conceal his presence, he subdues his ki, or life force. He becomes one with nature.”
“Mom taught me how to do that, to hide myself in any situation. I mastered it in high school, she said wistfully. “But it was hard. No one had any idea what my life was really like, or how much I had to train. I never really knew why. Maybe you can tell me…”
He laughed and shook his head, but didn’t answer her question. His clear blue eyes made him look like an elf.
“You seem to have many talents,” he said. “And since you’ve mastered the art of sozu, you should be able to learn the art of passing through walls quite easily!”
“Passing through walls?”
“Let’s see… Where’s a good place to try?” He looked around the kitchen.
“Right now?” she asked, dismayed.
He crossed the room and took off his zori sandals outside the pantry.
“Watch closely.” He opened the pantry door and stepped inside. “I’m going to escape by passing through the wall. Watch from the kitchen, and you’ll see that I won’t open the door to get out. Pay close attention. It’s a skill that could serve you well in the days to come.”
Though she wanted to ask what he meant, she knew that it must involve the dangers her mother had warned her about. She understood that nothing in her life would ever be simple, so she fixed her gaze on the door.
“Come into the pantry,” he told her. “I want to show you that this isn’t a trick. Check it for trap doors.”
She went inside and knocked on the walls, floor, and ceiling. Then she went back into the kitchen. He closed himself inside the panty, and she kept her eyes on the door, listening intently. There was no sound of moving floorboards or of a section of wall sliding. She concentrated. She still felt his presence inside. Thirty seconds went by. Suddenly, she lost the sense of his presence.
She opened the pantry door.
“Ojiisan!” she called. He wasn’t there.
“Oi! Here I am!” he shouted from behind her.
She turned around. He was standing there, wearing the zori he’d removed.
“How did you do that?”
“Just now, when you went into the pantry, I walked right past you.”
“How?” There was no way he could have done this unless he was invisible. “I didn’t see you. And I was watching, believe me.”
“Well, let’s say you forgot that I walked past you,” he said.
“You mean I lost my memory? You hypnotized me!”
“The minute you sensed that my presence had disappeared, your breathing became slightly irregular. I actually opened the pantry door and gave you a little hypnotic suggestion, then walked right past you. It’s called saiminjutsu.”
“But there wasn’t even enough time to blink!”
“Well, it wasn’t much time,” he conceded, “but it was enough. You see, this isn’t ordinary hypnotism,” he remarked.
“What is it, then?”
“Everyone thinks he remembers what happened yesterday, but most people won’t be able to remember what they did every minute. They just have a vague sense of what they’ve done, right?”
She mulled it over. You could forget something instantly. She certainly had, many times. Especially when it came to math. “I guess you’re right,” she said.
“The brain’s memory center has two functions: remembering and forgetting. By tapping into the forgetfulness area, I can erase your memory. It just takes practice.”
“But it seems so… so specific. How can you tap into that part?”
“I learned this trick from my grandfather, Jinzaemon. It helps a warrior subdue guards to break through to enemy territory.”
This was the second time he’d used that word—warrior. Her mother had said he was a soba farmer, living off the land in the mountains. He himself had said he was a hunter. Jet definitely had her doubts.
“Did you say warrior? Are you a warrior?” she asked.
He looked down. “No, but there are always battles to fight.”
“You mean the people from the dump?” she asked.
A sharp wind blew against the walls of the house. “Yes, that’s right. You see, they used to come here a lot, trying to dump waste from Tokyo on our mountain, but we refused. So they hired some yakuza—mafia gangs—to harass us. Sorry for them, we fought back. Those people are very persistent. But so are we!” He laughed heartily.
Jet didn’t see the humor. The thought of the mountain being used as a dump made her angry. “This mountain is too beautiful to ruin like that.”
“It most certainly is,” he agreed as he set food on the table. “But the truth is, there are always threats to mountain people like us. That’s precisely why I taught Hiro taijutsu, and why your mother taught it to you—to protect yourself.”
Jet nodded, but her head was spinning. Did the yakuza have something to do with her mother’s warning? Was the mountain really in peril? The problems that had plagued her in high school no longer seemed so serious. She had to know more.
“Did the yakuza come to Kanabe too? Did they come to your house?” Jet leaned toward her grandfather.
“No,” he said and his eyes shone with a fierceness that she hadn’t seen before. “The yakuza are not the problem. The problem is the Wa.”
Jet frowned. “Mom used to