Tommy's claim about being a ninja - Junko decided as she watched him sharpen one of the shuriken's points - probably held a few grains of truth.
She studied him carefully out of the corner of her eye, trying to imagine him in one of those shinobi shozoku she'd seen in a museum. Before, it had been difficult to see him as one of history's shadow warriors, but now, with the way he nonchalantly handled the weapon... well, it was a little easier.
A ninja. He claimed to be a ninja, for crying out loud. Weren't they half-mythological? There were stories of their mystical powers, from vanishing to taking on the form of animals. In the stories, they were lawless and honorless, preferring to quietly take out their enemy rather than face them in battle.
Junko's eyes traveled over him, watching his every movement. He certainly didn't look like a ninja. He was too laid-back and, frankly, didn't look like he could squeeze into any tight space a modern ninja would have to fit into.
"Here you go." Tommy handed her the whetstone and the shuriken. "You sharpen the last two points."
Tongue tucked against the corner of her mouth, Junko took the small weapon and pressed its edge against the whetstone. Several minutes later, and she was looking at a still-disappointingly unsharpened edge. If anything, it was duller. Frowning, she pressed a finger against the edge lightly. How did he make it look so easy?
Her hand was yanked away from the edge. "You really haven't handled blades before, have you?" Tommy's voice was amused, yet held a bit of annoyance.
She lifted her chin and stared straight at him. "I wasn't going to cut myself. And I used one last night, didn't I?"
"Any fool with fingers can hold a knife and use it to stab someone else." He reached over and adjusted her hold on the shuriken, lightly touching her hand to move it. "Don't work away at it so much. Keep smooth, consistent strokes, or the blade won't be sharpened properly."
She huffed quietly and concentrated at the task at hand. Why couldn't she get an edge like he did? It looked so simple.
As if reading her mind, Tommy added, "Take your time. Don't worry if you can't make it perfectly sharp. I've had years of practice."
She paused. "Years?"
"Years. You don't become a ninja overnight, you know. It takes a lot of training and fieldwork."
Junko started on the last point. "Fieldwork?" She didn't lift her head. "Who hires ninja these days?"
"Rich, paranoid businessmen, the government, people who want to spy on other people... the usual deal." He shrugged. "So long as they have money."
"How much does it take to hire a ninja?" Junko looked up at him.
Tommy shrugged again. "Depends on the ninja and the job. Guarding someone or something generally costs less than assassination."
Her eyes widened. "Does your clan do assassination?"
"Rarely, depending on the target. If he's a terrorist, then I'll be more than happy to take him out. If he's simply someone the government wants to shut up, then I probably won't do it."
She blinked. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she redirected her attention to the weapon. "Is it sharpened enough?" She held it up.
Tommy took it from her and tilted his head as he inspected the edge. "It's decent." He took the whetstone from her and continued sharpening.
Junko watched him. "How much do you usually charge?"
"Hm?"
"For... stealing something someone wants."
"Depends on the value of the item the client wants stolen. The more expensive it is, the harder it will be to steal, and the more effort it will take on my part." Tommy held out the shuriken.
She took it and stuck a finger in the center hole, watching the blades as she attempted to twirl it, with little result.
"You hold it like this." Tommy pulled the shuriken off her finger and had her grip along its edges. "And you toss it like a frisbee." He mimed the motion. "Don't actually throw it right now. This room just got its repairs done."
She gave him a disgruntled look. "Then what was the point of telling me how to throw it?"
"It was just so you know what to do if that is your only weapon left. That way, at least you won't use it wrong." He gave her a pointed look.
Junko couldn't tell if that was an insult or not.
"So." She looked at the shuriken. "When do I get to throw this?"
"Depends on you."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
There was a moment of silence before Tommy leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "What is your plan from here on out? You can't expect to stay here for the rest of your life."
Junko thought carefully. Where would she go after this? Back to the okiya? No, that was not possible; she would get arrested immediately. And even if she didn't, a geisha who was known for disappearing after the murder of a yakuza was sure not to be selected for parties or entertainment. She would be stuck in a job she disliked, with no income.
So the okiya was out of the question. She thought about her aunt and uncle. She supposed she could go back, but was it a good choice? Her aunt was not going to be happy that she hadn't paid back the cost of her geisha training and that she had killed someone. Plus, even if she did stay there, she would be nothing but a burden and a liability to them. They could get in trouble for helping her evade arrest.
No, she couldn't do that to them. As painful as it might be for her aunt and uncle, it was better for them to think her dead or kidnapped than alive.
She could go to a friend's house... but she hadn't talked to any of her high school friends since she left at fifteen to become a geisha, so that wouldn't do either.
She bit her bottom lip, feeling panic bubble in her chest despite her efforts to contain it. Where was she to go? She didn't have anything on her save for the shuriken, and she'd really rather not be homeless.
"Calm down," she heard Tommy say. "If you don't have good options, I can offer you one."
Junko looked at him warily. 'Good' was subjective. "What is this so-called good option?"
"Have you considered the ones you already have?"
"Yes," she said bitterly.
"You sure?"
"Yes."
He looked skeptical, raising an eyebrow. "You sure? This isn't the easiest offer to make."
She gave a sigh. "Unless it's slavery, prostitution, or being somebody's mistress, I'll consider it."
"Alright." He leaned forward, elbows on knees. He steepled his fingers together. "You could come with me back to my clan and train to be a kunoichi. You'll be given food, shelter, and clothes, but you'll have to train with your fellow students and obeys orders given to you by your superiors."
Silence.
Junko stared at him and blinked. Was he crazy? It was one thing to casually claim that you're a ninja, but it's another thing entirely to offer a random person training in your so-called ninja clan.
"Where is this clan of yours?" she asked warily.
"In the mountains."
"Which mountains?"
"Do you honestly think I'm going to tell you?" He looked at her as if she had just asked if water was wet. "It's a ninja clan for a reason. I'm not going to give out its location freely."
His answer made sense, but it did nothing to ease her growing suspicion. He was basically offering to take her to a possibly nonexistent ninja clan on some unknown mountain. He could be keeping slaves there, for all she knew. Maybe he was a human trafficker, or maybe he was planning on locking her in a house there to be his sex slave.
Much to her shock, a traitorous part of her mind piped up, saying that perhaps she wouldn't mind having such a fit, good-looking man pin her to a bed. She beat that thought into a pulp and forced it away; this was no time for ridiculousness.
"How am I sure you're not going to take me to some remote location and... murder me?" she asked.
"Because I have nothing to gain from killing you?"
"How do I know you don't like killing for fun?" she pressed on. "After all, I'm on the run; I won't be missed. It's a perfect setup for those kind of murderers."
Tommy sighed and leaned back on the couch. "I do not kill for fun. Believe me - I've killed enough times to know that I don't feel any sort of satisfaction unless I have a personal grudge with the victim." He turned his head to look at her. "I'm sure you understand. After all, you have yet to feel any remorse for killing Hyata."
That made Junko hesitate. That was true. She still thought Hyata received his just reward at her hands, and just couldn't bring herself to really feel bad about taking his life. But he was lumping her in with… serial killers?
She looked back at Tommy. He had sounded so tired saying the first part, as if reliving some moment in his past. He must have taken many lives, she decided. She looked at the scar on his cheek. From his words, his tone, and that scar, it was likely that he was a soldier not too long ago. He had to kill people if that was his order.
"Is there some sort of guarantee that I'll arrive at your ninja clan alive?"
Tommy sighed. "You still don't believe me, do you?"
Junko gave him a dry smile. "Sorry for being cautious."
"No, no. It's good to be cautious. Ninja have to be cautious." He sat up. "As for your guarantee, I'm sorry I can't give you anything but my word that you'll arrive safely. I'm sorry. This is entirely a trust thing." He smiled cheekily. "I could swear it on the mark of my clan, but I'd like to reserve those kinds for really important things - not on something as trivial as safe transportation to my clan."
Junko opened her mouth to protest that that 'trivial' task concerned her greatly, but what came out instead was, "...You have a mark?"
"Yes." Tommy tapped the bandages on his right forearm before unwrapping it. Six red bars, alternating between solid and broken, were tattooed into his skin. "See?"
Looks like I was wrong about him having an injury there, Junko mused as she watched him rewrap the symbol. Although... She stared at the splatters of scars on his arm before they disappeared under the bandages. What would have caused those? Shrapnel from grenades, perhaps? She wasn't sure - she'd never seen shrapnel injuries before.
"Alright, Tommy," she said after a few minutes of silence. "I'll consider your offer if you do me one favor."
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm already doing you a favor by keeping you alive and hidden so far. And at my offer to give you a place to call home, you want more?"
She gulped, realizing she'd overstepped. "I apologize. I did not mean to sound ungrateful. But it's a simple favor, really. And if you are really who you claim to be, it should be easy for you."
"I'm listening."
Junko took a deep breath. "My belongings. They're still at the okiya in Kyoto."
"And you want me to go get them for you."
"Yes, please. Without killing anyone or being spotted."
Tommy gave a tired sigh as he stretched out. "Any other requirements on this retrieval mission?"
She thought for a moment. "No, not really."
He nodded. "Consider it done." He stood up and headed up the stairs towards the door. "I should be back around eight or nine. Behave yourself, don't set the building on fire, don't invite friends over, don't get drunk, etcetera. You know the drill." He gave her a teasing wink as he opened the door.
Junko stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm not a child."
"Says the one with her tongue out. See you in a few hours. " He chuckled as the door closed behind him.
She harrumphed after him until her eyes fell on something shiny on the table.
He'd left the key with her.