The Tale of the Princess of the Crescent Moon
Thirteen
It was the first day of archery: Izayoi's class was being introduced to the art of the bow and arrow. Izayoi, of course, had learned to shoot at her mother's knee, as soon as she was big enough to draw a bow, and she was already quite a deadly archer. She generally kept her youkai abilities hidden from the other students, hoping that she might better fit in with them; but archery was one area in which she wasn't afraid to show off.
The class slowly made its way out of the locker room, most of the girls still struggling with the unfamiliar ties of their traditional archer's hakamas. Izayoi, of course, had been wearing hakamas since childhood, and she had put hers on and was out of the locker room before most of the girls could figure out which side was the front.
One of the school's smaller fields had been set up as an informal archery range. Seven targets had been lined up against the concrete wall at one end of the field, and shooting lines had been drawn in several locations: one at a bow's length from the target, one at about fifteen meters, and an "official" line at twenty-eight meters. Izayoi gleefully grabbed a bow and an arrow from the rack, and without a second's hesitation walked right up to the twenty-eight-meter shooting line. She had drawn the bow and was ready to shoot when she heard someone shouting her name.
"Higurashi! Higurashi! What are you doing? Stop that right now!" It was Mr. Tanaka, the archery instructor. He ran up to Izayoi and began scolding her. "Who told you that you could shoot? Where's your glove? Where's your chest protector? You don't know what you're doing!"
Izayoi didn't take scolding well, especially from someone she didn't know; moreover, she had saved her own life and the lives of others countless times with her archery, and she was infuriated that someone would tell her that she didn't know what she was doing with a bow and arrow. "I do so know what I'm doing—I've been doing this for years!" she shouted angrily back at him.
"Watch your tone with me, young lady! Anyway, from the looks of it, you've been doing it wrong for years, then," Mr. Tanaka snapped. "With a form like that, you'll never hit the target. And look at your hakama—it's all wrong. Where did you learn to tie that?"
"From my mother and Kaede-obachan," Izayoi retorted. "They're both priestesses—I think they know what they're doing."
"Well, that may be good enough for some old temple, but it's not good enough for archery. Besides, it looks like they learned how to tie it from watching old samurai movies," Mr. Tanaka said rather rudely. "So put down that bow—I'll be the one who decides when you're ready to shoot." Mr. Tanaka stormed off to gather the rest of the girls, leaving Izayoi silently fuming.
She felt a soft touch on her arm; she turned to see a kindly old gentleman in a stately gray kimono, a warm smile on his face. "There's nothing wrong with your form, young lady," he said gently. "It's very old—several hundred years old, I believe—and it's very profound, for one so young. Where did you learn it?"
"From my mother," Izayoi replied.
"Then she is truly a wise woman, and you do honor to her teaching," said the old gentleman. "I would be honored if you could meet me here after school today," he continued. "Perhaps we could learn from each other."
"Yes...I think I'd like that," Izayoi said, smiling for the first time.
"Don't let Mr. Tanaka bother you," the old man chuckled, patting Izayoi gently on the arm. "He's young...he'll learn." He bowed and walked off laughing to himself.
Izayoi was putting away her bow and arrow when Mr. Tanaka rushed up to her, quite flustered. "What did he say to you? What did Nakamura-sensei say to you?" he asked intensely.
"He asked me to stay after school," Izayoi said.
Mr. Tanaka was mortified. "He must have seen your form. I hope he doesn't think I taught you that," he said nervously.
"No...he knows you didn't," Izayoi said dryly, with a straight face.
"Thank goodness," sighed Mr. Tanaka. Then he positively snarled at Izayoi. "You don't know who that is. That's Nakamura-sensei, one of Japan's greatest archers ever. He's a national living treasure. We're lucky that he likes young people and stops by to visit from time to time...and if you embarrass me again in front of him, young lady, you'll live to regret it!" Mr. Tanaka stomped off towards the other students, and Izayoi turned to stare at Nakamura-sensei. She had never seen a "national living treasure" before—he seemed like a nice old man, smiling and joking with her classmates as he placidly polished his glasses. She shrugged her shoulders and rejoined the rest of her class.
Mr. Tanaka was running the class through the hassetsu, the eight steps of formal Japanese archery. Izayoi saw no point to the fusty way Mr. Tanaka wanted to do things, and flounced her way half-heartedly through the form, which earned her an additional rebuke from Mr. Tanaka. "You'll never become an archer with that attitude, Higurashi," he said harshly. "Go sit over there and watch, and don't come back until you're ready to learn."
Making no effort to hide her irritation, Izayoi stomped over to the bench, sat down loudly, and rested her head on her hand and watched while the others made their first attempts at shooting.
Most of the students were entirely unsuccessful at their first shots, even from the mid-distance line. Most of the arrows fell tragically short or flew wildly, and only one of the students was able to even nick the edge of the target. Mr. Tanaka shouted from his seat across the field, "Good shot, Harumi-kun! There, you see, Higurashi—you should be like Harumi. She's going to be a real archer!"
Harumi was the class president, everyone's picture of the ideal student. While she and Izayoi were not exactly enemies, they weren't exactly friends, either, and Izayoi had endured years of being told to "be like Harumi"—and when Mr. Tanaka told Izayoi that she should emulate a girl that couldn't hit the bulls-eye from the fifteen-meter line, Izayoi snapped. "Enough!" she shouted, and she stormed over to the bow rack and grabbed the biggest, heaviest bow she could find. She grabbed a handful of arrows, then she pointed the tip of her bow menacingly at the other students. "Nobody move. Nobody move an inch! I mean it!" she shouted, then she jogged away from the targets, far past the third shooting line, to the far end of the field.
The students and Mr. Tanaka complied; everyone was more than a little afraid of Izayoi, even the teachers. "What's she up to?" Mr. Tanaka muttered. At the edge of the field, they saw Izayoi raise her bow.
Suddenly, three arrows came sailing down the length of the field, one after another; each arrow embedded itself firmly in the center of each of the first three targets. There was a pause; then three arrows flew as one, a single volley sailing together down the length of the field. The arrows pierced the centers of the last three targets and traveled straight through, embedding themselves in the concrete wall that stretched behind the targets.
At the end of the field, Izayoi could be seen raising her bow again; and then there was a pink flash, and Izayoi's terrifying kiai, which echoed off the concrete walls of the field and sent chills down the spines of all who heard it. And then there came the final arrow, burning with purifying energy; it coursed down the center of the field, a glowing wake burning a trough as it passed. It flew straight to the center of the middle target, and when the arrow struck, the target exploded, sending sparks of purifying energy and flaming straw in all directions. The class screamed in terror, dropping their bows and running headlong from the field. A few brave souls grabbed fire extinguishers, and tried valiantly to put out the flaming remains of the target.
Izayoi returned to the shooting line, striding regally, chuckling at the squeals of her classmates and the whoosh of the fire extinguishers; she was so pleased with herself that she did not notice Nakamura-sensei still standing by the side of the field, the only person who had not run headlong in panic when the target exploded, laughing and clapping his hands with delight at the spectacle.
Izayoi walked up to Mr. Tanaka and thrust her bow into his hands. "I can so hit the target with my form," she said bluntly, "and I think your hakama looks funny." She strode off towards the locker room, but she was stopped by another gentle touch on her arm.
It was Nakamura-sensei. "Young lady," he said, still chuckling, "I hope you haven't forgotten your promise to meet me here after school."
Izayoi was speechless for a moment, but then she smiled and said, "Of course I haven't. I wouldn't miss it for the world." Then, to her own surprise and the shock of the still speechless Mr. Tanaka, Izayoi bowed very politely to Nakamura-sensei, and calmly walked off the field.
Just as she had promised, Izayoi appeared at the shooting range after school. She wasn't sure why...but she somehow felt it would be appropriate to wear her hakama for Nakamura-sensei rather than her school uniform, and she took a few extra moments making sure it was especially presentable before she walked out onto the field. And as he had promised, Nakamura-sensei was waiting for her, a broad smile warming his gentle face, and he bowed as he held out a bow and arrow. "Shall we shoot?" he said simply.
And shoot they did, for hours. Nakamura-sensei watched Izayoi shoot, and she watched him shoot; and he told her about the history of the form she was using, and he showed her new ways to grip the string and the bow, and she showed him how she aimed at targets flying through the air differently than those traveling along the ground, and as Nakamura-sensei had said: they both learned from each other.
The sun set, and the moon rose, and still they continued to shoot. Izayoi was used to shooting at night, and her hanyou's senses were quite capable in the dark, so she was completely unhindered by the increasing darkness; and strangely enough, neither was Nakamura-sensei, whose shots was as accurate in the dim moonlight as they were in broad daylight. Izayoi and Nakamura-sensei had just finished another round of distance shooting when she heard her name called.
"Izayoi!" It was Inuyasha, bounding down to the field from a nearby rooftop. Suddenly, he growled fiercely. "Izayoi! Watch out!" He had seen her holding a bow, and a man he didn't know holding a bow—so he jumped protectively in front of her, drawing Tessaiga in a flash. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What do you want with my daughter?"
"No, Dad, it's OK." Izayoi extricated herself from behind her father's outstretched arm, and held out her hand to her teacher. "This is Nakamura-sensei—he's been teaching me archery. He's nice."
Inuyasha looked at Nakamura-sensei with unabashed suspicion, but he sheathed Tessaiga nonetheless. "Your mother's been very worried about you," he said sternly. "We figured you had just been kept after school again, just like always... but when you didn't come home for dinner, she started getting worried."
"The fault is all mine," said Nakamura-sensei, apparently quite oblivious to the annihilation that he had barely escaped at Inuyasha's hands, and he bowed very politely. "I asked her to remain after school for instruction, and the experience was so pleasant that we lost all track of time. Please forgive an old man for making a father fear for his daughter's safety."
"Well...OK, I guess," said Inuyasha dubiously. "But we have to go home right now. Izayoi, get your things—you can change at home."
"OK, Daddy. Sorry, Nakamura-sensei, I've gotta go," Izayoi said, handing him the bow and bowing politely. Inuyasha had never seen his daughter behave with such dignity; he blinked several times, visibly startled. She ran into the locker room, leaving Inuyasha with her teacher.
"She's a very ... unique girl, is she not?" said Nakamura-sensei, peering at Inuyasha over his glasses. "She has great talents—it would be my honor to be her teacher, if it is amenable to you. And I promise to get her home in time for dinner from now on," he chuckled.
"Yeah...sure..." said a puzzled Inuyasha. No teacher had ever had any praise for his daughter, and he wasn't quite sure how to take the complement. "Uh, Izayoi," he said as his daughter returned from the locker room, "This old guy says he wants to be your teacher. It's fine with me, I guess, if that's what you want."
"Really? Oh, thank you, Daddy!" Izayoi squealed with delight and hugged her father (to his visible embarrassment), then she turned and again bowed politely to Nakamura-sensei. "And thank you, sensei. I'll see you tomorrow after school."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Nakamura-sensei smiled, and bowed in his own turn. He began putting away the equipment as Inuyasha and Izayoi left the field, and watched as the two of them as they bounded away along the rooftops of the school, their white hair flying behind them in the wind. "A unique child, indeed," he laughed.
The next day at school, Izayoi wearily waited for the usual summons to the vice-principal's office, this time to discuss her behavior on the archery range; but puzzlingly, it never came. At gym class, she put on her hakama with the other girls (still stubbornly tying it the way her mother taught her), but instead of walking to the warm-up area with the other girls, she went to the bench. "I'm going to be sent here anyway," she thought, "At least this way he won't yell as much." But sure enough, Mr. Tanaka immediately called her out anyway.
"Higurashi! Come over here." Izayoi wearily got off the bench and trudged over to Mr. Tanaka, who had the most puzzling expression on his face. "Get changed. Get out of here," he said flatly. "Go to the library. You're no longer in this class."
Izayoi started to protest, but Mr. Tanaka raised his hand to cut her off. "You're to meet Nakamura-sensei after school, here, every day, from now on, in place of this class." Mr. Tanaka was clearly quite disgusted at this turn of events, and made no effort to hide it from Izayoi. "Nakamura-sensei specifically requested to teach you, and what Nakamura-sensei wants, he gets. Do you know how many people spend years preparing themselves, hoping to be worthy to study with Nakamura-sensei—and he just asks for you?" Mr. Tanaka grumbled. "I don't know how you pulled that stunt yesterday, Higurashi," he said rudely, "but when I do, I'm going to be Nakamura-sensei's student—not you."
Izayoi patted him kindly on the arm. "Don't worry," she said kindly. "You're young—you'll learn." She turned and walked away, but she couldn't contain herself for long; she howled with laughter as she entered the locker room.