Yoshi looked out the window at the scenery that moved past her parents� car with disinterest. The familiar, tall buildings of the city had been replaced with small houses and large, many-rowed cotton fields. She remembered the tearful good-byes that had been exchanged between her friends and herself nearly four hours earlier. It was something that had just added to the list of things for which she resented her parents; her father in particular. It was he who had decided to move her away from her friends so that she could "concentrate" upon her training. What did they know? Her parents were being ridiculous about the whole thing. After all, it was her life, not theirs. If she wanted to be a ninja, then she would have completed her training in St. Louis. Her friends had nothing to do with it.

"Yoshi!" Her mother�s voice brought her forth from her thoughts.

"What?!" snapped Yoshi.

"I asked you why you have been so quiet," was her mother�s reply.

"I have just left everything that I have ever loved so that you could force me to do something that I do not want to do, and you wonder why I am quiet?"

"Watch the tone of your voice, child!" snapped her father, Kuji.

"I am sorry, mother." Yoshi�s voice was softer this time when speaking to Mai. "After all, it was not you who tore me from my friends!"

"I am not going into this again, Yoshi," Kuji stated calmly. "Those children were a distraction to your training, and I have grown impatient with the attitude that you have taken toward your mother and myself."

"This is not Japan, father!" argued the twelve year-old girl. "I have a right to choose my own path!"

"Your path was chosen when God placed you in our family," stated her mother. "You were predestined to lead our clan."

Yoshi said nothing in reply to this. She knew that her mother�s undying faith would keep her from being able to reason with the older Christian convert. And how could she always be so calm? She never got angry over anything.

Her mother looked at her, her soft expression never fading. "Besides, you will soon meet your Uncle Tanemura�s new student."

"A western ninja?" Yoshi rolled her eyes and looked back out the window. "I don�t know why you would expect him to be any different than my friends in St. Louis. I would not be surprised if he is an imbecile."

* * *

"Jamie," whined Dave in mild irritation, "can ya get yer nose outta that book long enough ta answer my question?"

"Sorry Dave," mumbled Jamie politely to his cousin as he closed his copy of Of Mice and Men. "What were you asking?"

"I was askin� ya what I should do �bout my dad," stated Dave. "He said he wouldn�t let me see Tracy if I couldn�t keep my grades up."

Buster Goodman, Jamie�s best friend, finished slurping the last drop of Michael Peters�s top secret root beer. "What class are you having problems in?"

"Science and math ," muttered Dave as he sat his chin in his already massive hands.

Buster smiled. "Problem solved. Traci�s a whiz at math. Just tell your dad she�s tutoring you."

"Hey!" snapped the big twelve year-old. "How come I didn�t know she was so smart?"

"She likes to make people think she�s an airhead," commented the ninja-in-training as he picked up his mug of root beer. "It adds to her guy appeal." He took a deep drink.

Buster looked up at the owner of the 8-ball Arcade. "Hey, Michael. What time is it?"

The proprietor looked at the watch on his wrist. "2:20."

Jamie spit the sweet beverage from his mouth. "Oh, CRUD!!!"

"What�s�a�matter?" asked Dave, eyeing the mess that his older, supposedly more refined cousin had left on the table.

"I told Master Tanemura that I�d be at his house at 2:30 to meet his nephew and his family!" He plopped the glass mug down on the table, then yelled "See you guys," as he dodged out the door.

Jamie ran along the sidewalk, thinking about the two companions whom he had just left. Dave, his cousin, had moved with his parents to Jameston in February of the current year. Dave�s father was a retired Air Force sergeant who had become a police officer when he had left the military. Eventually, he moved up in rank enough to become a teacher for the police academy in St. Charles, a suburb of St. Louis. He had finally transferred to teach at the academy in Kennett, a small southern Missouri town near Jameston, where Jamie and his family had lived since he was eight.

Dave had surprised his cousin when he had seen him in the second month of �87. Dave, somewhat chubby when the young ninja-in-training had seen him last, had slimmed down a great deal, having turned his fat to muscle. His father was also teaching him the unarmed fighting techniques that he had learned while in the military. Dave had fought savagely before, constantly defending himself on the playground from those who made fun of his weight. Now, he had a technique to it, as Dave sometimes said.

Buster was Jamie�s best friend. One of the first weapons (after the tanto dagger) that Jamie had mastered was the nunchaku, a weapon that was made of two sticks that were either connected by a nylon chord or a chain. It had been this item, descended from an agricultural flail, in which Tanemura had encouraged Jamie to train Buster, who learned the weapon well, after busting his own head a few times.

Jamie rounded a corner onto Poluk St., where Tanemura resided. Ahead, he could see three figures, each riding a bicycle. Two of them were of average height and build and one was larger than the others. Jamie groaned in disgust. It was David Long, Jimmy Lowe, and Jesse Edwards. The young man hoped that they would ignore him, but that was not to be the case. As he approached, they stopped their bikes sideways, front tire to rear tire, blocking the road.

"Hey, ninja-boy," squawked Jimmy as Jamie came to a stop in front of them. The scrawny boy�s shoulder-length, blonde hair was disheveled by the wind. "Are you ready to fight us yet?"

"Yeah," continued David, his rotund belly sticking over the handlebars of his too small bicycle. His short, black hair looked as bad as Jimmy�s. "You can�t keep dodgin� us forever."

"C�mon, Jamie," barked Jesse as he scratched his blonde crewcut. "Kick the dog-meat out of us."

"Much as I�d love to do just that," replied the young ninja-in-training, "I have to be at my sensai�s house right now, so I can�t."

"We ain�t movin� till you fight us," stated David.

"Then you�ll be standing here a long time," commented Jamie as he backed up a few steps, got a running start, and leaped over the point where the front tire of David�s bike met the back of Jimmy�s. The palms of his hands met the pavement first as he extended his arms outward, tucking his head under to protect it. He rolled over his back and safely to his feet as he heard the three bullies� shocked gasps. "See you guys later!" He called back as he continued toward his sensai�s home.

* * *

"I do not understand," murmured Tanemura with no small amount of worry in his voice. "He is normally quite punctual."

"I am not completely surprised, uncle," stated Kuji. "He is a gai-jin."

Tanemura shot his nephew an angry glare. "Never call him that!" The Funakoshi jonin looked back out the window, his worry returning. "Western he may be, but a barbarian he is not."

"My apologies, uncle," Kuji stated with sincerity. "I sometimes forget, even now that I have lived in America for so many years and have come to accept many westerners as my friends, that there is a negative connotation to the word gai-jin."

"Your apology is accepted," muttered the jonin. Looking back out the window, relief washed over his face. Jamie was running into the yard. "He is here."

* * *

Jamie stopped at the end of the front porch and leaned upon his knees with his hands, attempting to catch his breath. He was in better shape than most his age, but he had just run about two miles and he didn�t want his sensai�s family to see him gasping for air. He adjusted his glasses upon his face and wiped his sweat from his brow. I hope this turns out well, he thought.

* * *

Yoshi examined her great-uncle�s weapon collection, which resided in the hallway connecting the living room with the bedrooms, with little interest. Her father had one just like it. The wall was covered with throwing stars (called shuriken), two pairs of nunchaku, a 5� bo staff, a set of sais, and a myriad of other Japanese weapons. The one thing that stood out among the collection was the ninja-to that hung in the center of the collection.

Normally, a ninja sword was not crafted with quality in mind. Practicality was the main factor. Could it be made quickly? Could it be hidden with a minimal amount of fuss? But this sword was different. The scabbard was decorated with various runes and pictures. She knew, from what she had been told by her father, that the blade was of the highest quality and would never lose its sharpness. Legend stated that Mitsu, the first woman to have ever led the Funakoshi, had used this very weapon to slay the patriarch of the Togakura clan. Now it was passed to each new leader of the clan. She reached out and gingerly touched the wooden scabbard, knowing full well the care that had to be taken to keep the wood from showing its age of almost five hundred years.

A shadow fell over the girl and she jumped, whirling about to see what had made the movement. She found a window that looked out over the long front porch of her great-uncle�s home. The shade was opened and she could see a youth standing on the porch, breathing heavily. He didn�t appear scared, so he had probably just finished running. So her uncle�s prized pupil was late. Big surprise.

She stepped closer to the window, noting that he had not looked into the portal. She watched him, trying to find something . . . anything special. He was about average height for his age. His light brown hair was neatly combed and parted on the left. He was not attractive by most standards, but neither was he unattractive. Perhaps if he didn�t wear the glasses . . ..

Then he looked in the window and, as he saw her, smiled. It was a warm, friendly smile, not filled with the subtle "I want to take your virginity" smiles that the almost twelve year-old, who had already begun to blossom, had grown accustomed to from even her male friends back in St. Louis. This young man�s eyes were filled with a sparkle that gave Yoshi a warm feeling of welcome. At that moment, she knew that her uncle had made a good choice. This was a warm, friendly young man.

Yoshi realized that she was staring long after the boy had walked past the window and toward the front door. Blushing, she turned to hurry to the living room.

* * *

She was pretty, thought the young man. I guess she must be Kuji and Mai�s daughter. He paused at the door and raised his fist with a sigh. Gently, he knocked. There were the sounds of footsteps and a man�s voice said, "Yoshi, open the door."

The door opened to reveal the girl whom he had just seen in the window. She shyly avoided his gaze as she moved aside to admit her great-uncle�s pupil. Jamie stepped out of the humid August afternoon and into the cool, air-conditioned house. The change caused his glasses to fog up and he hastily pulled them off and cleaned them with the hem of his shirt.

"Kuji," stated Tanemura proudly, "this is Jamie Raleigh, my student." Looking at the young man, he continued, "This is Kuji and his family, Mai and Yoshi."

Jamie bowed politely. "It is an honor to meet you, Kuji-san."

"Please, Jamie," replied Tanemura�s nephew as he returned the bow, "we are family here. Call me simply Kuji."

Jamie bowed to Mai and Yoshi in turn. He gave the arrivals as quick an examination as he could without staring. Kuji was about 5�6" and slim. A five o�clock shadow was evident on his face.

Mai was a striking woman, with no sign of the wrinkles that the young ninja-in-training had expected on the forty year-old woman. Her short-sleeved shirt revealed arms that were slender, but muscled. The young teen guessed that she was more than capable of defending herself.

Yoshi was an eye-catching girl, with a face that showed the potential to be as pretty as that of her mother�s. There was a sense of boredom in her eyes, evident in the way that she looked about the room at everything but the humans who were there. While slender, she didn�t even begin to show the sense of discipline that her mother or father, or even Jamie himself, had to have achieved to have arrived at their status in their art. She�s going to be our leader? he thought, perplexed.

At a word from Tanemura, Jamie took a seat in his sensai�s comfortable chair, across from the couch. The three adults seated themselves on that piece of furniture, while Yoshi took a seat on the floor at her mother�s feet. Looking nervously at each of these people, the teen had the distinct impression that he was sitting on the witness stand for his own trial. But were Kuji and Mai to be his defenders . . . or his prosecutors?

"Uncle Tanemura tells me that you are learning at quite an advanced rate," commented Kuji, his voice friendly. "How do you feel about that?"

"I�m happy that he�s pleased with me," was the only response that Jamie could formulate.

"Has it affected your school work?"

Jamie didn�t understand why he was being interviewed, but he decided that it would be a good idea not to question Kuji�s motives. "I�ve maintained a �B+� average, which is pretty much how my grades have been since I can remember."

"Has it affected any other aspect of your life?"

Jamie thought for a moment. "I don�t have alot of time with my friends."

"So you understand the importance of your training over the importance of being with your friends."" Kuji glanced at Yoshi as he stated this, almost as if he wanted to make sure that she was listening.

"Actually," added the boy, "my friends are really helpful in my training." At a sharp glance from his sensai�s nephew, Jamie hastily added, "They all practice the fighting arts." He glanced curiously at the adolescent girl, who was now looking back and forth between her father and himself, as slight smirk upon her face. "We practice together. It�s good to see how I should defend myself against someone who knows tae kwon do, special forces fighting skills . . .."

"Yes, that is quite fascinating," interrupted Kuji, "but what you are saying is that, even when you are with your friends, your mind is still on your training."

"Well . . . usually," muttered Jamie, somewhat offended by the fact that Kuji had just cut him off.

* * *

The adults had moved into the kitchen to speak amongst themselves, leaving Jamie and Yoshi alone in the living room. The two hadn�t said a word to one another since the elders� departure. Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his chair, wishing that he were anywhere but in that room. Finally, he could take the silence no longer. "So, how much longer do they think that it�ll be before you�ve finished your training?"

"Never, if I have my way," muttered the girl.

"What do you mean?"

Yoshi looked at him, annoyance showing quite plainly upon her face. "I do not want to be a ninja. I want to have a normal life. I cannot do that if I spend all of my time training, then take over leadership of the clan when your teacher dies."

"You should be proud of your heritage . . ." began the boy.

"Look, just because you are so good at your training, and Uncle Tanemura is so proud of you, and you have no life, does not mean that all of that is for me." Yoshi folded her arms across her chest and looked away from him.

"I do have a life!" retorted Jamie, his exclamation held at a low decibel to keep the adults from hearing. "I have a loving family and some of the best friends that I could have ever asked for. I�ve learned to be grateful for what I have. Your parents want to protect you from the Togakura by training you to defend yourself. And they obviously take great pride in the fact that their daughter will be chosen to lead us when Master Tanemura dies. You didn�t see the way that your mother looked at you. She loves you deeply. And I know that your father does, too! So maybe you should learn to be a little more thankful for what you have, rather than taking out your frustrations on other people who are!

Yoshi eyed him in shock. He figured that it was because she wasn�t used to other members of the clan speaking to her in such a way. Finally, she dropped her head, letting the perfectly cut, long black hair fall to cover her face. "I am sorry, Jamie Raleigh. You have done nothing to me to cause my outburst."

The two didn�t say another word to one another the entire time that Jamie remained that afternoon.

FICTION*BOOK ONE*HOME

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