The next day we went to the castle in the middle of town. It was a restoration, of course, and nowhere near as grand as the one I'd seen in Tokyo with Andy, but still cool anyhow. The castle's interior was a museum, displaying artifacts from the age of samurai.

The museum was ostensibly closed for the day, but not to us. We were met by an older gentleman who was apparently the museum's director. Looking closely, I could tell he was a Night Child, too, and it was obvious that he respected Mr Oshida enough to lead us on a personal tour. He pointed out quite a few displays on "ninja" weapons and so on, deriding it as mostly bullshit. When I asked him why they had it all on display if he knew it had nothing to do with the real shinobi, he simply shrugged and said that you have to give the people what they want.

I bought a couple of T shirts from the gift shop, figuring that they would come in handy at the meeting with the elders the next evening.

Thanking the museum director for taking time on his day off, we left to visit an old part of the city that had a bunch of Buddhist temples and cemeteries. Mr Oshida explained that one of the smaller temples was historically shinobi, but like all of them, open to the public during daylight hours. The surrounding area was home to a large percentage of the local shinobi population, and we stopped at a very poorly marked restaurant for a late lunch.

The waitress was one of the very few I'd seen outside the onsen going without the concealing makeup, so of course I had to talk to her. With Jiro and Hayate translating I learned that she was one of the first to follow the Oshidas' example, and hasn't regretted it at all.

"People stare, and that makes me uncomfortable," she said. "But I know that will soon stop when there are more of us for them to get used to."

"Exactly," I said. "You're completely correct. It just takes a little time, that's all."

After lunch we did a little shopping, but honestly, Iga City wasn't really all that attractive for tourism. For the most part the town wasn't pretty and didn't have a lot of shops that catered to visitors. When I asked, Mr Oshida said that his people preferred the town and the surrounding area to fly below the radar, so to speak.

I asked about traditional crafts, and his eyes lit up.

"We have long felt that the old ways are worth preserving," he explained, giving directions to his grandson behind the wheel of the van.

After maybe twenty minutes of driving out into the farmland surrounding the city and then to the edge of the hills, we pulled into another walled compound.

"They make the finest shoyu in Japan here," Mr Oshida boasted.

A middle-aged man came out to see who we were, and when he recognized Mr Oshida his eyes widened with realization of who the rest of us must be. After a quick conversation in Japanese, he was happy to give us a tour. There was no sign of any mechanization anywhere, just hand tools and physical labor. Now, I'll readily admit that I knew nothing about soy sauce, so Mr Sato's explanation of the process was very educational. He also explained how the big companies did it, and wasn't subtle about his derision of the state of the industry.

Mr Sato proudly showed off the natural artesian well that had been the source of the factory's water for hundreds of years, explaining that the well was the reason that they had established right there all that time ago. The company had been family-owned from the start, he explained, proudly pointing out his grandson carrying on the tradition.

After leaving with a few gift bottles, I asked Mr Oshida how many small, traditional crafts shops like that existed in the area.

"Quite a few," he said. "We are stuck in our ways."

"No, this is awesome," I said. Turning to Teddy Bear, I asked, "Did you see how proud Mr Sato was when he showed us the plaque proclaiming their factory a national historic treasure? This is freaking gold."

"I have to say that visit changed my perception of soy sauce forever," Teddy Bear admitted. "I can't see ever buying another bottle of Kikkoman."

"Mr Oshida, are there any traditional swordsmiths among your people?" I asked. "Or ink painters or wood print artists?"

"Yes, there are," he said.

"These are the people I need to talk to," I told him. "But now, it's probably time to talk to Mr Kanawa. I told him I'd speak with him today."

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

"What about?" Mr Oshida asked.

"Old ways, new ways, moving into the modern era while respecting history," I said. Yeah, it was vague, but really, that's about as much as I'd worked out. "I need to help him salvage something from yesterday."

"Ah, yesterday," Mr Oshida said, grinning like an idiot. "That was beautiful! Seeing Kanawa get taken down like that was joy to my heart."

"I'm glad I could make your day," I said drily.

"Queen Leah," Hayate said, surprising me with the use of the title. "I expected that you would defeat Mr Kanawa's son, but to destroy him so easily… that was… impressive," he said. "This may be out of line, and I apologize if it is, but why did you choose to fight nearly naked?"

"Freedom of mobility," I answered. "A gi would merely slow me down. "I'm faster than almost anybody, so I need to play to my strengths."

"You are so fast!" Hayate exclaimed. "I almost couldn't see you move! It was incredible!"

"He's not wrong," Teddy Bear said. "I've never seen anything like that."

"Neither had Middle Son," I answered.

There were no students at Mr Kanawa's dojo when we arrived. I hoped that it was merely coincidence and not that the school had lost prestige as a result of the bout the day before.

Mr Kanawa himself met us at the gate. He bowed and let me in, but when everybody else made to follow I said, "Only Jiro. The rest of you can wait, or go do something else for a little while. This is just Mr Kanawa and me."

I could see the bitter disappointment on Mr Oshida's face, but everybody followed my instructions and left.

"Mr Kanawa," I said, nodding respectfully to the man. "We have much to talk about."

"I am not certain what it is you want to speak with me, but I will listen," Jiro translated for the old master.

"That is all I ask," I said as he led us to a smaller outbuilding, which turned out to be a single empty room.

As we sat down the same guy that had opened the gate for us the day before brought out tea, and Mr Kanawa served me, then Jiro. I served him in return, and we sipped quietly for a little while.

"I will admit," Mr Kanawa finally said, "I did not expect the fight to go the way it did."

I resisted the urge to say, 'Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!', since none of them would get the joke. "Mr Kanawa, I am everything they say," I told the man. "I am a monster. Your son, he's good, but he never stood a chance."

"Yes, that was clear," the old man admitted. "The only reason the bout lasted as long as it did is because you went easy on him."

"True," I agreed. "If it had been a real fight and our lives were on the line, I would have killed him almost immediately."

"Yes, that is how it seemed," the old man said, nodding.

"Mr Kanawa, when I watched the children, I saw that you were teaching them to really fight, not just to compete in tournaments. I appreciate this. Our people, we need to be able to defend ourselves if need be."

"You say, "our people,' but you are not one of us."

"You may not really appreciate it, but all of us, the Night Children all around the world, are too few to view each other as 'other'. You. Me. We have more in common than we have things that separate us. This is why I'm here. It was a surprise to those of us in the outside world that you exist, but once we found out that you do, we want to welcome you with open arms. You are our cousins, cousins we didn't know we had. We're very glad to find out that we do, though," I said.

"But you wish to use us for your agenda," Mr Kanawa protested.

"Of course. Do you not use your relatives for help? Is that wrong? It's a two-way street. I'm here to help you, and in return, you'll help me. This is what friends- family, maybe better to say- do for each other," I countered.

"What can you do for us?" Mr Kanawa asked.

"I can help economically. I can help with strategy, with navigating the politics of revealing yourselves. I can help you, specifically, with bringing your dojo into modern times," I said. "Besides what I can do, simply involving yourselves in the larger community of Night Children opens up possibilities."

"I see," said the old man. We sipped our tea in silence for a while.

"There is no need for you to rush to any decision," I finally told him. "My offer is open. I'm only going to be here another week, but I'd be happy to help train your son during that time."

"He will never be as fast as you are," Mr Kanawa said.

"No, he won't," I agreed. "But that doesn't mean that he isn't a good fighter. I have no doubt that he would do well against most any other opponent. A few more weapons in his arsenal would only do him- and your students- good."

"It is difficult to argue against that," Mr Kanawa admitted.

"Then let's do it. I'll work with your son starting tomorrow morning. I can't teach him much in a week, but I'll do what I can."

"What will you expect in return?"

"I've been told that you are a strong believer in the old ways. If you could help me understand your ancient culture, I'd think that would be compensation enough," I told him.

"I see," Mr Kanawa nodded. "You want to learn ninjutsu."

I shrugged. "Ninjutsu, sure. I'm more interested in history, in how you've maintained your identity over the centuries. The ninja thing is part of that, but honestly, I can't imagine that there's any mystery to any of the secrets of the ninja that those of us in the West haven't already been doing."

Mr Kanawa grew visibly indignant at this when Jiro translated what I'd said.

"There is a reason we were feared," he said. "We were masters of subterfuge and espionage!"

"So are we," I said dismissively.

"I can see that you will need to be convinced," Mr Kanawa said."Our techniques were unparalleled. We were undetectable!"

"Sure, that's the story," I agreed with faint enthusiasm, setting him off further.

"It was the truth! Those of us who value the old ways still practice this art. We can go anywhere and none are the wiser for it!"

"I'm sure you're right," I said soothingly, but of course, soothing him wasn't my goal.

"I will arrange a demonstration," he said, and that was that.

"What did you talk to old Kanawa about?" Mr Oshida asked when I rejoined him and the others.

"Training," I said. "I'm going to start working with Middle Son tomorrow morning."

"That was it?" Mr Oshida asked, disappointed.

"Pretty much, yeah," I told him.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.