ericlustbader.the ninja-第25部分

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neself　so　religiously　to　the　domination　of　others　was　not；　he　felt；　what　life　was　all　about。　He　had　been　disturbed　by　dreams；　then；　black　portents　without　form　or　face；　all　the　more　real　and　frightening　for　that。　He　had　felt　pelled　to　rid　himself　of　the　volume；　throwing　it　out　in　the　middle　of　the　night；　not　even　waiting　until　morning。
　In　daylight；　the　feeling　had　remained。　He　felt　as　if　he　had　taken　a　wrong　turning　in　the　dead　of　night　and；　without　warning；　had　found　himself　on　the　lip　of　a　great　abyss。　There　had　been　a　temptation　to　look　over　the　edge　but　with　it　had　e　the　knowledge　that　if　he　did　he　would　surely　lose　his　balance　and　tumble　forwards　into　the　darkness。　Thus　Terry　had　stepped　back　and；　turning　away；　had　put　his　katana　away　forever。
　And　then　today；　this　strange　man　who　called　himself　Hideoshi　appears。　Terry　shivered　inwardly；　too　much　in　control　to　let　Eileen　see　his　true　emotions。　Besides；　he　did　not　want　to　alarm　her。
　It　was　surely　some　kind　of　omen；　for　he　had　no　doubt　that　the　man　knew　well　the　teachings　of　Miyamoto。　But　even　beyond　this；　there　was　no　doubt　in　his　mind　that　Hideoshi　was　a　haragei　adept。　The　concept；　stemming　from　two　words；　hara；　meaning　centralization　and　integration；　and　ki；　meaning　an　extended　form　of　energy；　was　more　than　intuition　or　a　sixth　sense　but；　as　Terry's　sensei　had　said；　'a　true　way　of　perceiving　reality'。　It　was　akin　to　having　eyes　in　the　back　of　your　head；　amplifiers　in　your　ears。　Yet　haragei　could　work　both　ways：　being　an　ultra…sensitive　receiver　also　made　one　an　excellent　transmitter　if　one　came　within　a　certain　distance　of　another　haragei　adept。　Terry　had　picked　this　up　instantly。
　'Just　another　Japanese　off　the　plane　from　Haneda；'　he　said　nonchalantly　to　Eileen。　He　would　not；　under　any　circumstances；　have　told　her　what　he　really　knew　about　the　man。
　'Well；　there's　something　odd　about　him。'　She　was　still　staring　at　the　black　doorway；　which　seemed　to　gape　at　her　like　the　mouth　of　a　grinning　skull。　'Those　eyes　…'　she　shuddered。　'So　impersonal；　like　…　like　cameras。'　She　took　a　step　towards　Terry。　'What's　he　doing　in　there　so　long；　do　you　think？'
　'Meditating；　no　doubt；'　Terry　said。　He　picked　up　the　phone；　stabbed　the　inter　button。　He　spoke　softly　and　briefly　to　someone　on　the　third　floor；　informing　him　of　the　new　client。　He　cradled　the　receiver。　'He'll　be　another　twenty　minutes　at　least；'　he　said　to　her。　He　stared　at　her　long　black　gleaming　hair。　Brushed　back　and　unbound；　it　rushed　like　a　night…dark　stream　over　her　shoulders；　down　her　back　in　a　thick　cascade；　ending　at　the　tops　of　her　buttocks。　She　started　and　he　said；　'What　is　it？'
　Her　head　turned。　'Nothing。　I　just　felt　you　staring　at　me。'
　He　smiled。　'But　I　do　that　all　the　time。'
　'At　night；　yes。'　Her　eyes　stayed　serious；　her　pouty　lips　firm　and　straight。　'Don't　do　it　here；　Terry。　Please。　You　know　how　I　feel　about　that。　We　work　together　and　we　…'　Her　eyes　met　his　and　for　just　an　instant　he　felt　his　heart　lurch　within　him。　Was　that　fear　he　had　glimpsed　there　lurking　like　a　prowler　in　the　night？
　He　reached　out　a　hand；　pulled　her　gently　towards　him。　This　time　she　did　not　resist　and；　as　if　seeking　warmth；　she　allowed　herself　to　be　cradled；　her　arms　tight　around　him。　She　felt　safer　here；　with　him　so　close。
　'Are　you　okay；　Ei？'
　She　nodded　wordlessly　against　his　muscles　but　felt　the　tears　welling　up　like　deep　pools　witfiin　her　eyes。　Her　throat　constricted　and　she　could　not　think　why。　'I　want　to　e　over　tonight；'
　she　heard　herself　say　and　she　immediately　felt　better。
　'How　about　every　night？'　Terry　said。
　It　was　not　the　first　time　he　had　said　this；　though　it　had　been　in　different　ways　before。　Eileen's　response　had　always　been　the　same；　yet　now　she　knew　the　source　of　the　churning　inside　her；　knew　that　when　he　asked　her　again　this　evening；　as　he　surely　would；　her　answer　would　be　yes。　'Tonight；'　she　said　softly。　'Ask　me　tonight。〃　She　dabbed　at　her　eyes。　'When　should　I　e　over？'
　'I'm　having　dinner　with　Vincent。　Why　don't　you　join　us？'
　She　smiled　thinly。　'Uh…uh。　There's　too　much　you　guys　talk　about　that　I　have　no　interest　in。'
　'We'll　cut　that　all　out　tonight。　Promise。〃
　She　laughed　then。　'No；　no。　I　don't　begrudge　you　that。　Bushido　is　important　to　you。〃
　'It's　part　of　our　heritage。　We　wouldn't　be　Japanese　without　it。　I'm　not　yet　mat　assimilated　into　Western　culture　…　I'll　never　be　…　that　I　can　forget　the　history　of　my　people　…'　He　paused；　seeing　her　shudder；　her　eyes　flutter　closed。
　'My　people；'　her　words　a　ghostly　echo。　'Bushido。　I　shall　die　for　my　Emperor　and　my　beloved　homeland。'　Tears　welled　from　beneath　her　lowered　lids；　turning　to　minute　rainbows。　Behind　them　were　galaxies　of　pain。　'We　survived　the　great　firestorm　in　March'　…　her　whispered　words　like　the　shouted　cries　of　the　dying　…　'when　the　American　armada　dropped　almost　three…quarters　of　a　million　bombs　filled　with　napalm；　when　two　hundred　thousand　Japanese　civilians　were　roasted　or　boiled　alive；　when　half　of　Tokyo　was　cindered；　when；　the　following　morning；　as　you　walked　down　the　street；　the　wild　wind　took　the　charcoaled　corpses　and　blew　them　away　like　dust。〃
　'Ei；　don't　…'
　'We　moved　out；　then；　away　from　the　war；　to　Hiroshima　in　the　south　but；　quite　soon；　my　parents；　terrified　by　all　the　rumours；　packed　me　off　to　my　grandparents　who　lived　in　the　mountains。'　She　looked　at　his　face　without　really　seeing　it。　'There　was　never　enough　food　and　slowly　we　began　to　the　of　starvation。　Oh；　it　was　nothing　very　spectacular；　merely　a　kind　of　all…pervading　lassitude。　I　would　sit　in　the　sun　for　hours　unable　to　think　of　anything。　It　took　me　hours　to　b　my　hair　because　my　arms　would　hurt；　keeping　them　lifted　like　that。　That　was　for　me。　But　for　my　mother　and　my　father　there　was　Hiroshima　and　the　light　that　fell　from　the　sky。'　Her　eyes　focused　and　she　looked　at　him　steadily。　'What　is　there　for　me　but　shame　and　hurt？　What　we　did　and　what；　in　turn；　was　done　to　us。　My　poor　country。'
　'That's　all　forgotten　now；'　he　said。
　'No；　it's　not。　And　you；　of　all　people；　should　understand　that。　It's　you　and　Vincent　and　Nick　who　talk　constantly　of　the　spirit　of　our　country。　How　can　you　celebrate　the　one　without　feeling　shame　at　the　other？　Memory　is　selective；　not　history。　We　are　what　we　are。　You　can't　arbitrarily　excise　the　bad；　pretend　it　never　existed。　Nick　doesn't　do　that；　I　know。　He　remembers；　he　feels　the　hurt；　still。　But　I　don't　think　you　and　Vincent　do。'
　He　wanted　to　tell　her　of　his　recent　thoughts　but　he　found　that　he　could　not。　Not　now；　at　least。　It　was　the　wrong　time；　the　wrong　place；　and　he　had　a　highly　developed　sense　of　these　things。　Tonight；　perhaps。　Tonight　he　would　see　that　it　all　came　down。　He　watched　the　diffuse；　artist's　light　on　her　satin…skinned　face；　her　long　slender　neck；　her　slim　pact　body。　It　was　impossible　to　think　of　her　as　being　forty…one；　she　did　not　look　a　day　over　thirty；　even　in　harsh　light。
　It　was　just　about　two　years　since　they　had　first　met；　a　year　since　they　had　bee　clandestine　lovers　…　at　least　as　far　as　those　at　the　dojo　were　concerned；　of　course　all　their　friends　knew。　In　that　time　she　had　never　asked　for　more；　never　wanted　to　know　about　the　future。　It　was　he　who；　lately；　had　felt　the　need　for　more。　And　recently　he　had　bee　aware　that；　at　least　partially；　the　ending　of　his　love　affair　with　kenjutsu　had　been；　simultaneously；　the　beginning　of　his　love　affair　with　Ei。　Now；　it　seemed　to　him　with　pristine　logic；　that　there　was　nothing　more　important　in　life　than　being　with　her。　The　dojo；　which　he　had　opened　nearly　five　years　ago；　was　well　established　and　he　was　more　than　satisfied　that　it　could　run　itself　for　a　short　while。　Time　enough　for　a　marriage　and　a　long；　leisurely　honeymoon　somewhere　far　away。　Paris；　perhaps。　Yes；　definitely　Paris。　It　was　Ei's　favourite　city；　he　knew；　and　he　had　never　been　there。　All　that　remained　was　for　him　to　ask　her。　Tonight。
　Would　she　say　yes　this　time？　He　suspected　that　she　would　and　his　heart　fairly　danced。
　'Tonight；'　he　said。　'I'll　be　back　by　nine；　ten　if　Vincent　gets　stuck　in　Island　traffic　on　the　way　in。　But　you　have　a　key　and　some　of　your　clothes　are　there。　e　any　time。　But　bring　champagne。　Dom　Perignon。　I'll　bring　the　caviar。'
　It　would　have　been　easy　for　Eileen　to　ask　what　all　thi