Color of the Sea by John Hamamura

Author:John Hamamura
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780312340735
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Lightning and Wind

JUNE 1941

KEIKO SITS ON THE BLEACHERS WAITING FOR HER TURN.

One by one the girls are called to the gym floor and told which kata to perform. Keiko closes her eyes, imagines sunlight sparkling on the surface of the sea.

Keiko is the last to be called. She descends from the bleachers, and the previous girl, her friend Mieko, hands the naginata to Keiko with a quick smile. Keiko turns and faces B-sensei and the rest of her class.

“Perform kata seven, nine, thirteen, twenty, and twenty-seven,” says B-sensei.

Keiko notices two Imperial Army officers sitting in the first row of the bleachers. Beside them are the principal and several other teachers. When had they come in? So many people are staring at her. Keiko begins to panic.

“What are you waiting for?” asks B-sensei.

Heart pounding, breath shallow and ragged, the naginata slipping in her cold, sweaty hands, Keiko lowers her head.

A soft, anxious murmur goes through the girls on the bleachers. “Too late for prayers,” whispers B-sensei.

Keiko thinks: Their eyes are the waves of the sea scattering my core of light into a thousand tiny fragments. B-sensei, you are not my teacher. I have sensei more powerful and far wiser than you. Mama, Papa, Uncle Genzo, and Sam, I dedicate this to you. Breathe. Just breathe …

Keiko opens her eyes and bows. Her voice rings clear: “Seven, nine, thirteen, twenty, and twenty-seven. Beginning with the seventh kata, the kata called ‘Lightning and Wind.’ ”

B-sensei smiles broadly; Mieko raises both hands and gives Keiko an eight-fingered wave. Keiko ignores Mieko.

Then Keiko does something no other girl has ever done. Looking straight into B-sensei’s eyes, she gives the naginata a quarter turn in her hands, aiming the blade’s edge straight at him. A movement so subtle that only a martial arts expert would notice and catch its lethal implication. B-sensei’s grin disappears. Instinctively he sucks in his breath, his eyes widen.

Keiko steps forward and slices downward—the naked blade flashes like lightning. Smoothly, balanced perfectly, she turns and swings the naginata powerfully around with the sound of wind. Keiko is present in every movement, she burns in every flowing instant, eyes bright as rain lit by lightning. The naginata is an extension of her body; and her body crackles with energy from the soles of her bare feet against the wood floor to the tips of her hair swinging through the cold gym air.

The ki pouring through her feels hot and stormy, but the way it expresses itself in the movements she has practiced so many times is anything but wild. Keiko’s actions are spare and clean, without hesitation or egotistical flourishes. Her movements are full of authority and power, but everything is pure. Her anger toward B-sensei is gone. Now what she feels flooding through her is joy. Joy, gratitude, and love. Kata seven, nine, thirteen, twenty, and twenty-seven; without pause she performs them one after another. The last kata ends like wind and distant thunder fading into silence.

The gym is absolutely still. Keiko bows.

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