Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars

by Melisse Aires

  Thirty-Four

  I’ve never been to this Japanese theater before because it’s all the way in the center of Ku 6, and I’ve only ever skirted the edges of the ward near my new apartment and the dōjō. One of the many things to love about Nishikyō is the variety of architecture in the city. True, most of the buildings are utilitarian, but a few icons in each ward are worth visiting. The Jewish temple in Ku 4 is gorgeous, and I’ve heard the temples in Ku 6 are as well.

  This theater is incredible which doesn’t surprise me in the least. It’s five stories tall with long purple banners falling from the arch over the entryway into a grand meeting space. Great attention to detail was paid in making it reminiscent of the old theaters of Japan: high arching points in the roofs, scrollwork along the edges, painted gold and red with hundreds of red paper lanterns hanging off every available ledge.

  Though the dome lights have dimmed for night time, the atrium inside is bright and cheery. Hundreds of people are streaming towards the doors, weaving in and out of three meter high vertical banners introducing tonight’s taiko drumming troupe. Families and children of all ages are milling about. This crowd makes me even more nervous than meeting with the clan leaders face-to-face. It’s so many people.

  Jiro points to Sakai who is standing on the steps waiting for us with Koichi and Mariko. “We have a box for the show. No worries, Sanaa. You’ll be sitting down soon enough.”

  “Good. This kimono weighs a ton, and my legs are shaking a bit.”

  I’m surrounded by Jiro, Beni, Usagi, and four other guards wearing Sakai clan kimono. People are streaming past us and glancing over their shoulders at me. I’m the center of attention already, and I haven’t stepped inside the building yet.

  “Sanaa, you’ll want to stand and talk to Sakai long enough so people can see you,” Jiro says as he puts his hand on my back and slightly pushes me up the steps.

  I roll my eyes at him. I hate all of this nonsense.

  “I know. It’s dumb. Not my choice. I would rather keep you at home.”

  “You and me both.”

  We ascend the stairs, and Mariko hands me a fan I forgot I had left behind. Sakai pulls men and women out of the crowd and introduces me to them as Sanaa Itami, daughter of Junko Itami. Several people blanch and question Sakai, but many take him at his word right away. The introductions are a blur of faces, names, bowing, and curtsies of which I’m only half-aware; I keep getting distracted by everyone around me.

  As I’m staring off down the steps, Tadao Matsuda fades into my view. Our eyes meet, and he cocks his head and narrows his eyes at me with a smile. He probably misses all of the time he spent watching me around the dōjō. Taking a closed fan out of his obi, he taps the corner of his right eye.

  Yes, I know. You’re watching me.

  I wonder who has hired him to determine the course of the rest of my life. Whoever it is, I’m sure they want to cut my time as short as possible.

  Jiro follows my line of sight and leans forward to catch what I’m looking at, but Matsuda has already moved on, and there are too many people here to talk freely. I open my fan and hold it up to my face to disguise my mouth.

  “Can we go in now? Before I lose my nerve to continue on with this night?” I’m faint with nerves, light-headed and shaky. I need to concentrate on not throwing up.

  The inside of the theater is lightly based on kabuki theaters from Old Japan. A large stage with a walkway juts out into the crowd. The floor is standing room only but another four levels of seating rise above with boxes on either side.

  We enter the auditorium, and my head tilts up in awe. Each section’s balustrade is honed from composite wood painted dark and rich. The interior space soars five stories high. It’s the biggest open area I have ever been in besides the outside.

  “I thought you might want to see it,” Jiro says with a smile. “I love this theater.”

  “I love it, too.” I wish I could come here again and again.

  “Come, you two. Our box is there.” Sakai points to a section on the second tier to the left of the stage. We shuffle through the stairways and halls, and I know exactly where to go because Sakai’s men have already secured a path in front of me. Sakai, Koichi, Mariko, Jiro, Usagi, Beni, and I enter our little box, and it barely fits us all.

  “Jiro, what about your brother and Miko? Are they coming? This doesn’t seem like something Miko would miss.”

  He points. Miko is waving at me from a box directly across the hall. Yoichi is sitting next to her, and he’s wearing his sword which is the first time I’ve ever seen it on him.

  This kimono is hot, and I’m getting nervous about making it through this show in one piece. I take out the fan Mariko gave me and get the air moving around me.

  “Okay, love?” Jiro asks with a hand on my arm.

  “Mmm-hmmm.” And now my blush is growing because Mariko and Koichi are staring at us. This is the first time Jiro has used that nickname in front of them.

  “I can’t wait to take you all over Ku 6,” he says, leaning even closer to me. Jiro’s eyes are happy, such a contrast to serious time spent in the dōjō, and it warms my heart to know that I bring him joy. “I have so much to show you, Sanaa. And we’ll travel the other wards together, too.”

  “I’d really like that, Jiro.” From what I’ve seen of Ku 6 so far, I want to see more.

  I’m thankful when the lights dim, and the drumming starts. I peek over the edge, and Minamoto is on the outskirts of the theater floor. He is surrounded by his tattooed security men, and I think his son is with him, but I can’t tell from this distance.

  Maeda is watching me from a box up and to the right of Miko and Yoichi. He took a night off from the casino. He must be more interested in me than I first thought. I have completely lost sight of Matsuda and have no idea where Tomio Miura could be. I can’t find them in the crowd, and it makes me uneasy.

  Five minutes into the show, I start to forget my nervousness and lose myself in the performance because this troupe is amazing. What is it with men who become taiko drummers? They are all so svelte, and they wear the smallest amount of clothing possible.

  The drumming is explosive, and the vibrations are coming straight up through the floor of our box to my feet. Besides the four drummers up front slamming on the largest drums, women in kimono stand behind them, their hands and arms a blur as they bang away on the smaller instruments. A young girl, not more than fourteen, plays the flute to the right, and I love her. She is so fast and sure.

  It’s immensely loud, but I don’t mind. The noise drowns out the thoughts swirling in my head, and the rhythm is actually quite peaceful. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the beat of the drums and the vibrations overcoming the auditorium when I realize something’s wrong.

  I realize it at the same time half the audience realizes it, their heads swiveling to the ceiling.

  The paper chandeliers above are swaying and bouncing, and people are falling down. I jump up to move but am thrown forward at the railing, and I’m lucky to scramble and hold on before I tumble over.

  My box is a chorus of swear words, and Beni screams before she is flung against me. I capture her with one arm and hold on to the railing with the other. We all know this is a big one. Those little earthquakes we had were just building up to this.

  The show ceases and one drum comes off its platform and careens into the audience completely flattening an old man who couldn’t move fast enough. Only a few people who can get their feet under them run for an exit. Everyone else is piled on the floor awaiting the end of the quake, but judging by the screams, many are injured.

  I turn my back on the crowd, pressing my ribs against the railing, and keep one arm wrapped around Beni. The shaking is slowing down. The quake is almost over. “Mark! We have to get out of here!”

  Jiro has one hand on the railing, reaches out with his other and grabs the front of my kimono. Mariko and Koichi are pressed against the wall. Usagi is at the door. As he’s about to part the
curtains and usher us out, I hear the sound I’ve always dreaded under the cacophony of chaos happening below me, the high pitched ting of metal on metal.

  “Usagi, wait!”

  He moves out of the way just in time as a man dressed all in black and brandishing a katana flies into the box. He cuts right at Sakai who ducks and stumbles as we’re jolted again. Koichi lunges at the man from behind and pushes him towards us at the railing. We roll out to the sides, and the man tumbles over to the floor with a scream.

  And then, everything stops — the ground’s not moving, the light’s not swaying. The crowd on the floor is silent for a moment before the screaming starts again and those that can rise to their feet and run for the exit.

  But we’re in trouble in here. Someone was ready to make a move tonight and thought the earthquake was a good time to strike. They were right.

  The fighting happening in the hallway is loud with shouting and swords clashing. Koichi draws his sword and waits at the door. I’m still pressed against the railing when, out of the corner of my eye, I detect movement where there should not be any. I lean farther back out and find three men descending along the outside of the boxes from two flights up. They are climbing down hand-over-hand in a fashion I have only seen Jiro do once.

  Oh shit.

  Jiro has his eyes on the door. I draw my short sword from my obi.

  “Jiro,” I whisper. “Up.” He follows my line of sight.

  “Shit.” He turns to Sakai, and I swear he mouths ninjas while pointing up.

  How many? Sakai mouths back.

  Jiro holds up three fingers.

  I push Beni away from me, and Mariko reaches forward to grab us both.

  “Can you use this?” I ask Mariko as I show her the short sword. I want Kazenoho; it’s on Jiro’s back.

  Jiro backs up from the railing with Oninoten out and says, “Take it,” just as black feet approach over the box’s ceiling. I manage to get Kazenoho out as all hell breaks lose.

  The three ninjas come bounding into the box as two other men try to break in through the door at the same time. Koichi and Usagi defend the door, and that leaves Jiro and me to take care of the ninjas. I’m ready for this.

  Jiro cuts down two of the three so swiftly that I blink, and they are gushing blood. One of them lashed out with a knife and got Jiro on the shoulder. The third gets by him and goes directly for me. I let my body instinctively move Kazenoho to block him twice before pushing him back with all my might. He barely stumbles, though. I’m so small in comparison to him, and this damn kimono is slowing down my reactions. He lunges at me again but he’s not expecting Mariko to come at him from the side. With her distraction, I thrust forward with Kazenoho and stab him straight through the chest.

  Just like that, I kill a person. Well, it was either him or me. I chose me.

  I quickly withdraw the blade before it gets stuck in him. For a brief couple of seconds, time stands still, and I see us standing over three dead bodies with blood dripping from our swords. This is not how I thought our day would turn out.

  Flicking the blood off Kazenoho, I move to the railing looking up and down. No one is coming. Across the auditorium, Miko and Yoichi’s box is empty. I hope they got out unharmed. Most of the audience are gone, but a few dead or injured people lie on the floor. I want to send help to them, but I have to think about us first. The whole place shakes again briefly.

  “Over the side, Mariko. Beni, you go with her.” I push them both towards the balustrade, but Beni is fiercely shaking her head.

  “No! No, I’m not going,” Mariko shouts. She and Koichi look at each other across the box, and he nods to her sadly. A small bubble of panic rises in my throat.

  “You will go,” I say as I push her. “Find Yoichi and Miko. Your whole family needs you.”

  She looks me briefly in the eye and kisses me on the cheek. “Be safe, Sanaa-chan.”

  Another round of sad glances pass between Koichi, Sakai, Jiro, and Mariko before she climbs over and lowers herself until she only has a two meter drop. Beni is still standing next to me.

  “Go, Beni. You must find my aunts in Ku 5 and make sure they’re alive.”

  She’s about to object, but she already knows how much my aunts mean to me. I’ve only known Beni a few days, but it feels like a lifetime. With a nod, she climbs over the side and is right behind Mariko.

  “Sanaa and I will go out the side and climb.” Jiro steps over the fallen bodies and pushes me to the railing.

  “We’ll go out the door.” Sakai has paled but he looks as determined as ever.

  “Wait! Mark, take Kazenoho. I can’t climb with it and this kimono. I have Jiro. You need to defend yourself.” Without further argument, I push the sword into his hand and turn around. I can’t stand the look on his face, like we won’t see each other again.

  I climb over the railing and immediately regret my kimono decision. Damned thing is getting ruined. I take the long sleeves and wrap them up around my arms to get them off my hands. This is the last time I wear one of these to a big event, I swear it.

  “Which way?”

  “To the left and up. Go! I’ll be underneath you in case you fall.”

  “Great. So I can take us both out on the way down.” I start climbing horizontally, scale the railing in the next box over and grab for the balustrade on the box above it.

  “Use the wall, Sanaa.”

  Climbing is hard in geta flip-flops. I kick them both off and try to gain traction with the socks which only moderately works. They are coming off too as soon as I get up one floor.

  I manage to swing my legs up and get to the next floor box which is deserted. Jiro is quickly behind me, climbing like he was born to do it. The socks come off, and, when Jiro pulls my flip-flops from the front of his kimono, I laugh. How does he do that?

  “Did you catch those?”

  He nods but we have no break in the action. From below several men come racing into the auditorium and spot us in the box.

  “Oi!” They point and run in different directions, some peel off to the stairs, the others climb. I hurriedly put my flip-flops back on, and we make for the hallway.

  Jiro peeks through the curtains, and, while I’m waiting for the all-clear, I take the dagger he gave me earlier and move the weapon to my obi where I can reach it. I should have grabbed back the short sword from Mariko, but who knows who she’ll encounter tonight. I’m sure Sakai thinks he has left me totally defenseless, and I pray he’s not worrying.

  “Let’s go, Sanaa. We’ll come around to the front and try to make our way out of the theater,” he says, as we run down to the hall. “Let’s hope the ward’s not falling to pieces, and we can get back to our building.”

  I’m thinking we may not be so lucky. The hallway is so damaged part of the wall has caved in, and when we round the corner for the front stairwell, the area is blocked by debris, a man crushed and dead right in the wreckage.

  “Back stairs?” I ask. I’ve never been here before. No one is around. Everyone must have made it out before the last little shockwave.

  “Yes. Back the way we came.”

  We turn and run, but I can’t pick up pace in this heavy kimono. I lift the bottom up off my legs so I can run faster.

  We pass the boxes we came out of a minute before and the men who had decided to climb up the outside come barreling through the curtain at us.

  “Go Sanaa!”

  I know Jiro can take these three. I know it, but I don’t want to leave him. But if I get away now and down the back stairs I can meet up with Sakai and the others, assuming they’re alive. If I stay, I’ll be in the way without Kazenoho, another target for these men. My options are not good.

  “Go!”

  Okay, I go, though it’s killing me to leave. Please, please, please let Jiro come out of this alive. Please let us all come out of this alive.

  I run through the door to the back stairs and do not see the hand that reaches out and punches me in the forehead. I slam into
the stairs railing, my neck snapping back and hitting my head on the hard composite. The force of the blow knocks me down, and my butt hits two steps before stopping at the feet of Matsuda. He has his sword out, and the blade is dripping blood.

  “I gotcha. Sanaa, did you really think you were going to get away?”

  He doesn’t even bother to keep his sword drawn, flicking and re-sheathing it, because I’m defenseless.

  My sight is blackening along the edges, and I’m so stunned he easily picks me up, wrapping his arms around mine, and pinning them down while dragging me down the stairs.

  My head is pounding, and I feel like I’m going to vomit. I should. I should let the bile come up. Maybe Matsuda would slip on it and I’d be free. But the feeling passes quickly, and I almost faint he’s crushing my chest so tight.

  A groan escapes me. Think, Sanaa! I can’t let him take me away so easily.

  I deliver a careful blow to his shin with my foot, and it knocks him off-balance. We stumble down two steps before he growls and picks me back up again. I kick and scream and cause as much of a scene as I can hoping someone will hear me, but no one shows up.

  With one arm still around me, he clamps his hand over my mouth. “Be quiet!” I bite down hard until I taste blood but he barely flinches.

  “He just doesn’t give up,” Mariko said, and she was right. He won’t stop — won’t quit until I’m dead. I can’t reach my dagger with his arms pinning mine down. Can’t defend myself. He is going to kill me.

  I throw my body hard against him while he drags me down the last two steps to the first mezzanine level.

  How have we exited almost right outside of my original box, and no one is here except for the bodies in the hallway? His feet squish as he carries me over gallons of blood spilled and soaked into the carpet. My nostrils are filled with the scent of metal and urine, making me sick again. I was sure someone would be here.

  Where is Sakai? Usagi? I don’t see them.

  With a mounting sense of dread, I fight Matsuda again. This time I snap my head back as fast as I can and hit him so hard in the chin he lets go of me. I try to get up off the floor, but my legs won’t cooperate, and the world is spinning.