Ninja Star
Target, Target, Target
Star inched the splintered wooden door open. The familiar smell of dust and potpourri met her as she edged inside. Moonlight filtered through the open window and small candles were burning to nubs in the corner, giving off a warm glow. The woman she had come to visit was against using light bulbs past midnight. "Ivy? 'You here?" Star asked.
"Come on in," the inviting voice of her childhood guardian called from inside. Ivy swung the door open wide and ushered Star in, closing the door again behind her. She handed Star a chipped porcelain bowl full of clear broth that smelled strongly of fish. It had little pieces of green onion, seaweed, and noodles in it. Clear Soup, Ivy's favorite.
Star sat herself down on a stool at the table that stood under the windowsill. Ivy joined her, donning a bowl of her own. Star tipped the bowl to her lips. Instantly the salty smell of fish mingled with that of seaweed. What looked (and smelled) totally unappetizing was actually very good.
"I have a problem," Star set her bowl down on the table that wobbled a little. Ivy looked at her over her own bowl with intrigue. She placed her bowl down and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.
Ivy had light brown hair that she always pulled into pigtails; the two frayed blue ribbons peeking through her sleek strands. Blue eyes that were so light and crystalline-looking they were almost clear. Many mistook her for being blind. Most of the time she used this to her advantage.
It was Ivy that taught Star to use nails in the bottoms of her shoes for climbing walls. Ivy had taught her everything. Ivy had been protecting Star since she was four. They had lived together in the very same abandoned apartment complex they were sitting in for six years. Then, at the age of ten, Star was turned out to find her own home.
That had been the plan all along.
"Two or more people living in the same building symbolize strength. They become a target for the foolish. This is not our situation. We would be a target for the powerful. Remember Cat, Wilt, and Jin? They have strength in numbers. The streets themselves fear them. They attract the foolhardy fighter who challenges them and risks everything. You are not yet strong enough to face them. But, you are strong and I am not done training you.
"Strong from the day you are born; that is what everyone expects. Many of these people were born to the cold, hard ground. Nothing to their name. No one who cares. You are not so lucky. You had a family. But, when I found you, you had nothing. Nothing but a pair of ruby earrings and a set of engagement rings. The prize you have chosen to protect. The prize hat makes you a target.
"You know the feelings of the street. I have shaped you into the urban ninja you are today, which I am very proud of. But you must go on your own. Steal, mug the weak but do not forget your morals, survive at all costs and come and visit me when the time is right. Tonight, under your mother's full moon, you become the next warrior woman of the streets. You will develop your own district and watch your prey. You can evade the police, those stronger than you, and the elements like none I've seen at your age. Make me proud."
Star recalled Ivy's entire monologue in her head. Something she would never forget. It was twilight on the rooftop of a large hotel building, overlooking the entire city. Surreal.
That was Ivy for you. The twenty-eight-year-old with the wisdom and mentality of a ninety-year-old woman. She loved being cryptic; the way she talked about targets and how she spoke of the streets as if they were living. Star always thought it silly to call her an 'urban ninja' or a 'warrior woman of the streets'.
"What's wrong?" Ivy herself broke into Star's thoughts.
Star took another quick sip of broth and a deep breath. "I met a boy."
Ivy looked un-amused. "Lovely. We both meet lots of boys."
"No, this one was different! I was stealing his wallet, when I checked his ID and– He's the son of a famous fashion designer. That... Hitachiin woman.
Ivy raised her eyebrows. "You pick-pocketed a Hitachiin? Very impressive," she nodded slowly and sipped from her bowl.
"Well, actually... He caught me." Star admitted. Ivy almost spit broth everywhere. She set her bowl down and pushed back her chair. Star extended a hand to stop her, "No, it's not what you think! He wants me to train him!"
"Absolutely not! You aren't strong enough to train another person. Especially not a teenage boy."
"Why not?" Star complained, "You found and trained me when you were sixteen. You've been training me for eleven years; I'm ready to do the same for someone else.
"You know that two people travelling together are a target, especially when one is but a fledgling." Ivy said as she rinsed out her bowl in a bucket of water. Star groaned.
"Enough with the 'target' stuff! Everyone's a target out here! Besides, it'll be fine. I took on seven boys at once earlier this morning." Star flubbed the truth.
"I'm sure." Ivy snorted incredulously.
"You saw?" Star wrung her fingers guiltily.
"Who do you think was holding the window closed?" Ivy grinned wickedly. Star opened and closed her mouth like a fish in shock, eyes circling the floor as if the answer was there. She thought someone had welded shut that window.
"What?"
"Training, dear. One must always be ready." Ivy pressed a finger to Star's lips and ushered her to the door. Star narrowed her eyes. She stepped into the clear moonlight. She scanned the rooftops and the streets. The tiny moths that circled the street lamps. The little brown spider spinning a web lazily in the corner.
Aside from the late-night crawlers, spiders or otherwise, no one was around. Star stood at the roof ledge, ready to skip to the next, when the door creaked again. She turned. "Does he know your name?" Ivy asked.
"No. He calls me Star."
Ivy seemed to contemplate this for a moment before replying, "Good, because to know someone's name–"
"Is to have power over that person." Star joined in on the age-old lesson Ivy had taught her when they first met. When Star made the mistake of asking Ivy what her name was. Star smiled and Ivy returned it.
Star. Ivy. Cat, Wilt, Jin. All pseudonyms for thieves and robbers. Street fighters. Home.