Requesting a Lesson

“So,” Tomita said calmly as he kneeled again, “to the task at hand.” He sat up a bit straighter and said, “I am Tomita…”

“Formerly of the Kunaicho,” I interrupted, just to rattle him a bit. Some of the true danger in him shot out briefly from his eyes, escaping from behind the barrier he had placed there.

“I am a student of the Morita-ha Tengu-shin ryu. I am menkyo-kaiden there and a yudansha in Yanagi-ryu jujutsu and kendo. I have killed four men in duels. I request a lesson.”

It told me nothing, other than that there were more victims than we were aware of. I had never heard of the Tengu-shin ryu. Tengu are the winged mountain goblins of Japanese legend. Master swordsmen, in the old stories they sometimes teach mortals their art. Depending on how “shin” was written, it could refer to some sort of divine revelation, the heart, or a deity of some sort. All I really could tell was that the man before me had had a variety of training. And he killed people.

He bowed toward me at the conclusion of his recital. It was my turn.

“I am Burke,” I began. The Japanese tend not to use the given name in situations like this. “I am a student of Yamashita-ha Itto ryu. I am yudansha in Shotokan karatedo and Kodokan judo. I have killed no man in a duel.”

Tomita grinned ferally at me.

“Until tonight,” I concluded. His grin just got harder looking.

— Sensei, Chapter 18