The meeting that night with the elders went well. Mr Kanawa was quiet and withheld his usual objections for once, and this seemed to take the wind out of the sails of the rest of the resisting faction.

"Look at this," I said at one point, holding up the T shirt I'd bought in town. It had a cute chibi graphic of a stylized ninja with the text in Japanese that translated as "Greetings from Iga!" on it.

"We all know this has nothing to do with the real history of your people, but nevertheless, this is the popular image. As far as I can tell, this is the only real tourist draw to this area. When I toured the castle museum the director admitted that a lot of the things on display aren't historically accurate, but that's what people want to see, so that's the history they promote." Looking around at the table and seeing what looked like resigned agreement from most of the elders, I continued. "I've seen a side of this area and your people that few visitors even know exist. Look at this hotel! It's basically unchanged from the way your great-grandparents experienced it. I toured a shoyu factory that makes their sauce the same way it's been made for hundreds of years. I met a man who hand-crafts the most incredible kitchen knives I've ever seen, a skill he learned from his father, who learned it from his own father, and so on. His son is learning the trade and will continue with it, too. Mr Kanawa there teaches your children the old ways in his dojo, and his sons are continuing his legacy."

I looked around the table. "You are a proud people with a very strong reverence for the old traditions. This will resonate with the outside world when you reveal yourselves. If you proclaim yourselves the keepers of the old ways of Japan, keepers of ancient Japanese heritage and an integral and important part of the cultural history of the nation you'll be recognized not as outsiders, but as part of the very core of this nation. The day walker Japanese will embrace you, and will clamor to hear your side of history. When any of you walk down the street in Kyoto, Osaka or Tokyo showing your true face, people will stare. They won't stare out of malice, they'll stare because you will represent a part of this nation's history that they thought had been lost. They'll want to talk to you. They'll be curious, not fearful. They'll want to buy you drinks and ask what it has been like, hiding in secret for centuries. If you make the announcement of your existence correctly, you'll be celebrities. Japan loves the myth of the ninjas," I said, holding up the T shirt again. "They'll love you when they find out the truth of it."

After quite a bit of back and forth discussion amongst themselves, the elders turned to me and asked how it should be done. I spoke about developing a plan for scholarly interest, and how I'd happily contribute funds for a real shinobi history museum. I talked about the inevitable flood of tourists, and how to monetize that interest. I talked about how it was important to coincide their public announcement with ours in the States and the Lascaux's in Europe, so we needed to all of us get our ducks in a row before that big day.

"I think we have at least six months, more likely a year before we can all be ready," I assured them. "There is no real rush, but we can't wait too long, either."

"If we do decide to stay in hiding, you will still announce the existence of our mutual peoples, correct?" Mr Ogawa, the speaker of the elders asked.

"That's right," I said. "This plan has been coming together for years now, and will happen with or without you. Of course it would be better with you, but yes. If you decide to stay in hiding we won't name you or out you, but we will announce the existence of Night Children worldwide."

"I see," he said, nodding. He looked around the table at his fellow elders and spoke a few words in Japanese, which Jiro didn't bother translating. "We will do this thing. We will coordinate with you, and we will make our announcement concurrently. We request that you, as the queen of your nation, assist us in this. This is counter to our nature, and we admit that we have not given it the thought that you have."

"Of course," I said. "I will do what I can to make this success for you and your people."

"Yes!" Mr Oshida crowed when the meeting broke up and almost everyone left. "I knew you could humiliate old Kanawa!"

"Humiliating him wasn't my goal," I cautioned the elder Oshida. "I merely wanted him to see that what worked in the past will no longer be enough."

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"I had heard stories about you," Mr Oshida said. "Stories too… extreme to believe. 'The Demon Queen is unbeatable', they say. 'She is a savage, merciless killer', they say. You defeated Hoshi Kanawa so fast I nearly missed it when I blinked. Then, you gently picked him up and carried him like a dear friend who'd had too much to drink, so he could recover from the beating you'd just given him. This made an impression. On me, of course, but also on everyone else there in Kanawa's dojo. We had all expected a good fight, but it wasn't that. It was Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Then, tonight you were McArthur, and we signed the treaty you imposed upon us. We look forward to your help rebuilding."

After the Oshidas left, Jiro said, "That comparison to The Pacific War Mr Oshida made… I don't know if you understand the emotional significance. We have a deep national memory of our defeat at the hands of the Americans. Even without the atomic bombs, we know we would have lost eventually, but our pride kept us fighting on long after it was clear that the tide was against us." Jiro paused for a moment to think about how to phrase what he wanted to say. "There is a famous photo of the Japanese delegation arriving onboard the USS Missouri to sign the articles of surrender. This group of formally-dressed old men were all much smaller than the American sailors standing at attention on the deck of the ship. Those old, small men represented a nation that was beaten- utterly defeated, but the Americans didn't mistreat them. The Americans greeted them with dignity, and once the paperwork was signed and Japan gave itself unconditionally to the Americans, the Americans did what we could never have expected. They didn't loot, they didn't pillage, they didn't do any of the things we would have expected. No, they immediately got to work rebuilding our country, remaking it into something greater than it had been before. We were at our lowest, and you reached down and picked us up. You picked us up with compassion for our injuries. Whether you realized it or not, I can tell you with certainty that Mr Oshida was not the only one in that dojo who recognized the significance of what you did with Mr Kanawa's son."

I had nothing to say to that. I mean, what could I say? I hadn't intended any sort of historical reference with my actions, but if the coincidence was that obvious all I could do was capitalize on it.

We missed out on bathing that night in favor of a traditional music performance in town. My assumption was that the performers were shinobi, since it had been one of the elders who'd suggested that we might want to attend. It fit well with the whole 'defenders of ancient tradition' thing I was trying to get the shinobi to embrace. I'd been doing my best to drive home the idea that if they played that card right the Japanese public at large would adore them when they revealed themselves, and the fact that Mr Kawasaki thought that I should attend a traditional music performance was clear indication that the message was being received.

The performance was held at a municipal concert hall in a smaller, nearby city. Hayate Oshida drove us there, but begged off actually seeing the concert. He said he'd pick us up when I texted him that we were done, but he had no desire to sit through two hours of ancient music.

Mr Kawasaki was waiting for us outside the venue with tickets for all six of us, a smile on his face that we'd actually made it.

The concert hall itself was an unfortunate brutalist concrete building probably built in the Sixties, but the interior was in better shape than the place we'd seen the puppet show in Tokyo, so that was something.

By the time the curtain went up most of the seats had filled. We drew a lot of inquisitive stares, but nothing hostile at all.

Jiro explained quietly that the three musicians were playing the shamisen, koto, and shakuhachi flute. After a little bit of quiet discussion with Mr Kawasaki, Jiro added that the shamisen player was the elder's niece.

I enjoyed the performance, but had to agree with Hayate- two hours was too long for me, too.

Mr Kawasaki dragged us backstage after the performance to meet his niece. At the introduction I got the impression that he was just as pleased to show his niece that he knew me as he was to introduce her to me. Up close I could tell that the other two were also shinobi, to no surprise at all. The three musicians kept staring at my three heavies, presumably because they weren't wearing any concealing makeup at all.

Eventually we made our exit, and once outside I asked Mr Kawasaki what were his thoughts on showing his face, and if he'd talked to his niece about it.

"I will on the day we announce," he declared. "And from that day on. But for now, I will continue like this. My niece, she says she will wait to see what happens with the announcement. She is a professional performer and doesn't want to be unable to work if it goes badly. I understand, but I think that she's a perfect example of who needs to stand in front when we reveal ourselves. She is nationally known, after all."

"You do know who my wife is, right?" I asked.

"You're in a same-sex marriage with the rock musician Emmy Lascaux," Mr Kawasaki confirmed. "The most famous one of us in the world."

"That's right," I said. "The world loves her, at least in part because of her exotic looks, but mostly because of her talent. Your niece could be your Emmy- your well-known face of your people. Talk to her. Talk to the two others, too. If they can perform publicly without hiding their true faces…"

"I agree," he said. "Go big or go home."

"Did he actually say that?" I asked Jiro, surprised.

"He actually did, yeah," Jiro said, chuckling.

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