A shinobi should not be ashamed of falsifying, for it is his duty to outwit the enemy.

—Gunpo Jiyoshu

Sai

I had no idea of where Matsura-sensei lived, but that didn't worry me. He had to come to the Academy eventually, he was scheduled to teach a class that evening.

He made no appearance during my classes, so I had to suffer through another session of boring kanji and stupid boys. I had no reason to stay at the Academy, so I needed a place to hide. I wandered around until I found a place under a cart. After I finally got comfortable, it occurred to me that I should have gotten some food. I could be there a long time. But I didn’t know when Matsura-sensei was going to arrive, and there were no food stands nearby, so I sat there and listened to my stomach growl. The boredom of waiting was brought to an end when five men—one of whom was so big he could only be a sumo wrestler—passed by in the street.

The leader stopped them just outside the gate and directed two of the men to inspect around the compound wall. Then, he spoke with the other two men, motioning with his hands. When the first two men returned, he listened to their report. After a couple of questions, the five of them stepped into a shop with a good view of the gate to the Workers Association and the road around it.

Those men look like secret police—why are they here?

I tried to get a better view of them, but they stayed hidden in the shop.

Could they be waiting for Matsura-sensei?

Eventually, the sensei himself came wandering down the street, studying a scroll.

He finally looks like a scholar.

The secret police slipped out the shop. Matsura-sensei didn’t notice them. One of them threw a weighted chain that wrapped itself around Matsura-sensei’s legs, and he fell flat on his face.

I suppressed a giggle.

Some mighty warrior he turned out to be.

Matsura-sensei tried to fight, but the secret police knew exactly what to do. They had him bound and in the bamboo cage before he even realized what was happening.

How do they expect me to find out anything by following him when they arrest him?

Several students stood at the gate and watched. They made dark comments about a government plot to destroy the Academy and vowed they weren’t going to stand for it.

Idiots, you would think the secret police want riots.

I followed the police as they took Matsura-sensei to a deserted area of the warehouse district and waited outside the building to see what happened. Eventually, they let him go. He didn’t look as badly beaten as many I had seen questioned by the secret police.

He made his way to a sake house without any trouble. I watched through the window and saw him go upstairs.

This could be his home then.

One of the secret police followed him as well. I saw a light in an upstairs room and climbed to the roof of an adjoining building just in time to see him shutter the windows. The light went out. I could see no benefit in my sitting outside the saké house when he had probably gone to bed. I decided to go back to the kimono shop.

The walk home seemed longer than normal that night, and the house was dark when I got there. The cook-fire had burned low. Akiyo-sensei sat in the dim light in front of her butsudan. The Buddhist altar was a beautifully carved rosewood cabinet with double doors that opened onto three shelves. In the center of the top shelf stood an ivory Kannon, the bodhisattva of mercy, flanked by a sitting statue of the Amida Butsu on the right and a gold painted figurine of Amaterasu on the left. The lower shelves held more than a dozen tablets. Each tablet consisted of a standing wooden frame holding a paper with a name written on it. Along with the framed names, a smattering of other religious icons filled the shelves. Four candles burning on a table in front of the altar cast a flickering light that made the writing on the tablets appear to move.

“Sai, you are back late. Have you been working?” she said without ever taking her eyes off the butsudan.

“Yes, Sensei. The secret police now have me following someone.”

“Ahhh, good…” She went back to contemplating the candles. “The spirits are uneasy,” she said. “I can’t tell why. Trouble is coming.”

Of course, there was trouble coming. There was always trouble coming. If the city didn’t burn down, there would be a famine or maybe an earthquake. Actually, a famine had been going on for the last year. Combine that with a new shogun, Tokugawa Tsunayoshi, succeeding his dead brother, and you could almost guarantee trouble. You didn’t need spirits to know that.

I gazed at the butsudan. I didn’t see any spirits, easy or uneasy. But then, I never did. Akiyo-sensei got this way sometimes. It worried me. I didn’t know what to do.

“Are you well, Sensei?” I asked. “Would you like some tea or saké? I could build the fire up.”

She picked up one of the tablets and looked at it. Then she handed it to me. “This is Mamiko.”

I studied the tablet. Many of the names on the tablets were women’s. Women who had worked as kunoichi under Akiyo-sensei. They were all dead now. The other names were people she had killed. The tablets used to scare me when I was young. Now, I was comforted by the fact that one day my name would be there, watched over by the Sensei.

“She came to Edo with me when we were both young. Our chunin was a man, and a foolish one, at that. He had us taking stupid risks. Mamiko got caught. The daimyo she had been spying on had her tortured until she told them where to find us. Most of our group was captured.” She went back to staring at the candles.

I knew the story, of course, that was how Akiyo-sensei had distinguished herself and ended up a chunin leading her own group, a rare privilege for a woman. There were other groups of shinobi in the city, but we knew very little about them. We did know they were all led by male chunin and their members included few kunoichi.

I silently handed the tablet back to Akiyo-sensei. If she wanted to tell me the story again, I would listen. Perhaps it helped her. I wondered if someday I would be haunted by the spirits of those I killed and loved ones I had lost.

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“Tell me, Sai. Could you stop killing? Could you live as an ordinary woman?”

I stared at her in shock. “Why do you ask, Sensei?”

“I don’t have many years left. I could leave the shop to you, Hanae, and Kaguya. I know Kaguya and Hanae would be happy to simply be shop owners—spying frightens them. But you, what would happen if someone wronged you? Could you stay your hand from retribution?”

I glanced away for a moment, then burst out, “No! You cannot die, Sensei. When I die like the others, I want you to love and honor my name as well.”

Akiyo-sensei laughed. “Little Sai, you know I will not live forever. Far better that you live and honor my spirit after I die.” Her face grew stern. “Now, answer my question.”

When I was a child, my father was killed while I watched, helpless. Then I was sold to a brothel. I was too young to serve the clients, so I cleaned and observed what happened there. The women were at the mercy of the customers and the brothel owner, but there is no mercy in the world. They were little better than slaves.

The helpless were beaten and used. I hated being helpless. That is why I worked so hard to learn fighting and killing techniques once Akiyo-sensei adopted me. Neither of the other two girls came close to my skill.

“I don’t know, Sensei. I don’t think I could,” I answered.

She shook her head. “There is not much place in the world for the shinobi anymore. The wars are over. Now, we just run errands for the secret police. I have served my clan because they raised me and I still have family among them. But you don’t even know any other members of our clan. You are loyal only to me. When I die, you will be free to choose a different path. Consider your choices carefully.”

“But I will take care of you, Sensei. You don’t have to worry. You don’t have to die.”

The candlelight reflected oddly in Akiyo-sensei’s eyes, highlighting the transformation. I had noticed changes beginning some months back. The part that should be darkest was developing a white haze. I knew what that meant. She was going blind. That, along with the stiffness in her joints signaled the end of her ability to fight. That would make me the only fighter left in the group. Was just me alone enough to keep us going?

I had not told her about the ronin with the metsubushi powder. If there was a shinobi defying our law, it was her responsibility to deal with him. I didn’t think she could. I knew I couldn't either. Somewhere in the city were other groups of shinobi. I had hoped they would learn of the problem and deal with it. So far, they had not.

I felt like my life had been completely overturned. Could I just be a shop-girl? Is that what I want?

“Go to bed now, child,” she said. “You need your sleep. Leave me to my meditations.”

*****

When I awoke the next morning, Akiyo-sensei was seated next to my futon, waiting for me to arise.

“We have received a new assignment. The samurai you have been following has been given until noon to leave Edo. You are to continue to follow him unless he leaves Edo. If he leaves, you are done. However, if he has not left by noon today, he must disappear.”

I objected. “If the secret police told Matsura-sensei to leave town during his interrogation, don’t you think he will be suspicious? How am I going to get him someplace to kill him and dispose of his body without being seen?”

Akiyo-sensei looked a bit embarrassed. “You know you are the best kunoichi that we have. You might be able to surprise him and finish him quietly. The secret police believe that none of their men or the male shinobi would be able to accomplish that. He will be on his guard, and they fear that Matsura-sensei would be able to spot any attempt to ambush him by the male shinobi. They could not defeat him. Not without a battle that would attract far too much attention.”

I bowed. “As you command, Sensei, I will think of something.”

Akiyo-sensei coughed. “There is more. The secret police have been doing some checking, and Matsura-sensei is not who he claims to be. He is the Sleeping Tiger, one of the most skilled duelists in the city. Our employers emphasized that he must appear to have left town. If you can’t kill him without making the body disappear, then you need to come back and tell me. We will have to see if we can work something else out.”

I didn’t say anything, just started dressing in my “street urchin” disguise. I put on a ragged kimono with a much nicer one underneath. I made no effort to straighten out my ponytail. But I was thinking hard. They wanted me to kill one of the best fighters in the city and make it look like he just disappeared, or left Edo on his own.

I shook my head.

I can’t take any chances this time. Why do I even do these things for the secret police? Why are they killing the heads of the Confucius Academy anyway? What is the reason that Matsura-sensei has to die?

Shop-girl sounded very tempting. Maybe Matsura-sensei would be smart and leave town.

*****

Matsura-sensei was still at the saké house when I peeked through the window. He was seated in the common area drinking tea slowly while watching the door. His eyes darted around the room uneasily. His expression was dark. Although the saké house was busy, no one sat near him. He was tense as a cat watching a mouse.

The signs of the previous day’s arrest were clear. His face was bruised and puffy, and he moved stiffly. They had hurt him.

I bought some soba noodles at a stand across the street and ate while I waited to see what he would do. I gulped most of the food down quickly in case he left soon, but he was certainly taking his time. I ate the last bit very slowly to give me an excuse to sit there. The woman at the stand was giving me strange looks by the time he finally moved. I stood up and ducked into a nearby shop, watching Matsura-sensei—or whatever his name was—through the curtains.

He stood at the door of the saké house studying the street for several moments. His hand hovered near the hilt of his katana. Finally, he stepped out and strode down the street, often glancing behind him. He carried no belongings.

You’re not leaving town, are you?

Following him along the main streets was easy. He could try to see if someone was trailing him, but it is hard to spot someone in a crowd. No doubt he was looking for secret police and paying no attention to the street urchins I resembled. I watched carefully, but no one else was following. The secret policeman from last night was gone. I was on my own. The thought scared me.

When he finally made his way to the Sugura-machi district, it became more difficult. Street urchins were less common there, and I might stand out. I let myself fall further behind. With his height, he wasn’t hard to keep track of.

He turned down a wide side street. I stopped at the corner. There were many people on the street, but they were all well-dressed samurai or wealthy chonin. Matsura-sensei was bound to notice me in my ragged clothes. Fortunately, he stopped at the gate on one of the government buildings before he got out of sight. Stepping into the deep shadow of one of the buildings, I ducked down and stripped off my ragged outer kimono to show the inner one. Tossing the old kimono aside, I stood and smoothed my hair. Now that I looked more respectable, I trotted down the street quickly, like I had some business there.

As I passed Matsura-sensei, he was arguing with the guards at the gate. “I cannot wait for an appointment. I need to see the machi-bugyō at once.”

“And I told you he is not available today. Move along before I have you arrested.”

I picked out the words “Confucius Academy” and “Workers Association” as I continued down the street. They did Matsura-sensei no good. The guard still wouldn’t let him in.

The arguing ceased. I risked a look behind me. Matsura-sensei was walking back the way he came. I continued on my way until I saw him turn back onto the main street. I raced back to the street and caught a glimpse of him through the crowds. Keeping him in sight by catching glimpses of him towering over the crowd, I gradually closed the distance between us until I had him in easy view. He traveled to the Confucius Academy. I waited outside for a short time so as not to immediately follow him in. While I was standing there, someone came out of the building and replaced the sign announcing the previous night’s class in Confucian thought taught by Matsura-sensei. The new placard stated that the class had been rescheduled for that evening.

It was noon, and Matsura-sensei apparently had no intention of leaving the city.

I sighed.

The only cure for stupidity is death.

I had a disappearance to arrange.