Yumiko of Shinjuku
A/N: Italics represent works which are emphasized in English or appear in another language. Dialogue placed between «these bracket» will always be Japanese written in English for your convenience.
Boundaries of Mirkwood
Chapter 4
"Yumiko of Shinjuku"
Yellow-gold autumn sunlight flooded into the halls of the deserted junior high, spilling into bright reflective pools on the linoleum. Orange, red, yellow, and brown leaves outside in the high canopy festooned the walkway as festivities were underway.
Autumn meant two wonderful things; Obon and time for the annual Sportsfest at Shinjuku Senior High School.
Yumiko loved her school when it was quiet like this. The modern white walls, metal lockers, and linoleum were off-set by the paper lanterns, calligraphy banners, and water colors. She liked it even better when it was noisy.
Without decorum, Hana snatched the back of Yumiko’s collar, yanking her back to the point of nearly choking her, and pulled her friend into a run. The daydreaming schoolgirl hardly had a moment to snatch her heavy backpack from the floor as her friend forcefully pulled her along like a disobedient child.
«Quick, archery starts in ten minutes! You’re already late!»
Nimbly, Yumiko caught her feet and began racing down the corridor. A steady stream of music and voices drifted through the empty passages, their pounding footsteps echoing. Hana skidded as she round a corner to the right, and began bolting down steps two at a time.
Yumiko didn’t slow. Her lithe figure hurtled the banister. With the grace of a cat, she fell the short distance down to the second flight and the slanted rail below, one hand gripping the slanted rail, two feet firmly planted upon it.
She grinned at Hana who was on the flight of steps adjacent.
«No fair!» The words hardly left her mouth before Yumiko dropped once more. Hana could barely keep up. Before she hit ground level, Hana took Yumiko’s example to heart by jumping the last rail and landed six yards behind her.
Yumiko laughed, her face’s hue reddening at the expense of the other girl. «And you’re the one on the track team!»
«Baka! One misstep and you could have been killed, Yumiko. Don’t do that!»
Yumiko just grinned cheekily and dashed for the door, exuberantly shoving it open so hard it connected with the outside wall and vibrated violently.
Sunlight and sound cascaded over them as they charged out across a narrow street and over the grounds. The smell of fresh cut grass wafted over the crisp air. Students littered the grounds turning it into a sea of green, black, and white as all were in their school uniforms for the competitions.
The two deftly zigzagged through the throng of students. Hana once again found herself amazed by her friend’s ability to narrowly avoid plowing over bystanders. It was a show in dexterity; narrowly skirting collisions, she’d swiftly dodged obstructions even with her rather large backpack on.
«Misuzu?»
«Hai.»
«Cho?»
«Hai.»
«Miazawa?» The teacher attempting to complete roll-call was met with silence as Miazawa Yumiko raced up behind her. «Silly girl is late ag. . . »
«HAIYumiko shouted from behind, startling Tanese-sensei into crying out and dropping her clipboard. The teacher rounded on the giggling fourteen-year-old.
Yumiko grinned flippantly, her composure the perfect impersonation of oblivious exuberance. «Hai, domo, present and ready for competition Yoko Sun Sensei!»
Tanesse-Ito Yoko was able to squelch down her frustration toward the careless youth with a good deal of difficulty. With all the archery students and the large crowd gathered and watching, she preferred not to shout. All the students liked Yumiko immensely for no respectable reason she could discern. Tanese-Ito sensei got the distinct impression they were, in part, laughing at her.
Because of all the reckless, wild, inept youth she’d met, her initial evaluation placed Yumiko in the category of “liable to shoot herself in the face while using her toe to draw.” Expecting the youth to be the most destructive threat to safety she’d ever known, she’d been stunned to see how quickly Yumiko caught on. The girl didn’t really practice. It seemed that it was dead instinct she shot with; the same uncanny instinct she used to avoided danger and causing damage to others. No, Yumiko was not a hazard. Her concern was for on the other student archers. Every time Tanese-Ito sensei thought about them taking up Yumiko antics without being as adept at side-stepping logic and injuries made the teacher want to pull her hair, screaming.
Within ten minutes the contestants were ready to go, in position, and poised to begin.
Tanese-Ito sensei inclined her head to Yumiko, who took the cue and readied herself.
Lightly poised on the balls of her feet, Yumiko awaited the shouted signal to draw. The wind blew crisp, stirring up bright dry leaves. It caught her hair, lifting it from her shoulders.
On the mark, fluidly, she pulled from her quiver and set the arrow, knocked, and drew. The rest of the world phased out. All her being went into the arrow. For Yumiko, accuracy was not a matter of alignment; it was her knowing and maintaining complete confidence that the arrow would hit where she desired it to. The arrow’s stationary will was suspended, and in its place was her will for it to fly. Archery provided Yumiko with a well of giddy joy by bringing the shaft to life; bending it and filling it with her soul.
Down row, a mis-strung bowstring snapped and sent an arrow flying.
Yumiko felt something graze her eyebrow, snapping her out of revelry to the sound of Tanese-Ito sensei throwing an out and out tantrum.
The teacher’s face was red, her wrath cowing every archer into putting their bows and arrows to the ground. Hiroo-kun looked as if he wanted to dig a hole and burry himself; his face red with shame, knuckles white from the grip he had on his bow, its string snapped.
Yumiko turned the other direction, finding a shaft sticking out of the ground, thankfully a good six feet from any spectators.
«Look at this! It’s strung backward! Backward, a lesson I taught you last year! Where is your head? It’s over, it’s done for you! Apologize, boy.»
«Hiroo?»
Both teacher and demoralized student looked up surprised to see a cheery Yumiko. «Hiroo-kun, you lost this.» She drew the arrow from behind her back and placed it in his hands.
Hiroo’s eyes widened at the sight of blood trickling by her eye like a tear and dropped the arrow he’d unconsciously accepted. Pulling out a handkerchief, he felt mortified by the recognition that he could have taken out her eye. «Yumiko, you’re bleeding. Let me.»
She laughed at him. «I don’t think you meant to trim my eyebrow.» She then pointed to her cut, blood trickling out of it. «I think I shall have a scar. Isn’t that wonderful? A finer scar than all my brothers’. It shall make a fine story, how I got it at my first competition.»
His brows furrowed, confused by her ability to take this in stride. «I was careless when I strung my bow. It’s my fault it snapped. I’m sorry.»
«If there were no accidents, there would be no brownies.» She laughed at him and the lovely confused look on his face. Tanese-Ito sensei watched with her lips pressed into a fine line, teetering between anger and letting the ordeal go.
«And it will be a better story once I’ve won the match.»
Tanese-Ito saw the girl’s self assured smile which left no room for the possibility of cancellation, and couldn’t help but cave in. There was something about the girl that prevented her from staying angry too long or going against the child’s resolve.
***
Hana and Yumiko were returning to the school, crossing the narrow street and dodging traffic along with a crème colored stray ally cat.
«Brilliant! How did you do it Yumiko? How did you convince Tanese-Ito sensei to allow the competition to continue after you were shot, by that hansom Hiroo no less, and then proceed to win said competition? Your luck. . . I think you were born under a good sign. What was your sign?»
«The boar.»
«Oh. Well, I guess you can’t tell with those ancient things. Ouch!»
Both girls looked up to see that several youth, over excited by the day’s events, throwing their school supplies off the roof. Hana raised her fist to them in anger. «Baka! All of you! What will you do when you’ve put my eyes out?»
Faintly, from high up, they heard one of the boys reply, «Hana, I want to see you run again!»
With that they directed several of their projectiles toward her. Hana ran.
Yumiko stood her ground and curiously raised her head to look death in the eye.
Glossary:
Baka: A very mean way to call somebody stupid.
Hai or Hai, domo:A positive afirmation; yes, I concur.
Boundaries of Mirkwood
Chapter 4
"Yumiko of Shinjuku"
Yellow-gold autumn sunlight flooded into the halls of the deserted junior high, spilling into bright reflective pools on the linoleum. Orange, red, yellow, and brown leaves outside in the high canopy festooned the walkway as festivities were underway.
Autumn meant two wonderful things; Obon and time for the annual Sportsfest at Shinjuku Senior High School.
Yumiko loved her school when it was quiet like this. The modern white walls, metal lockers, and linoleum were off-set by the paper lanterns, calligraphy banners, and water colors. She liked it even better when it was noisy.
Without decorum, Hana snatched the back of Yumiko’s collar, yanking her back to the point of nearly choking her, and pulled her friend into a run. The daydreaming schoolgirl hardly had a moment to snatch her heavy backpack from the floor as her friend forcefully pulled her along like a disobedient child.
«Quick, archery starts in ten minutes! You’re already late!»
Nimbly, Yumiko caught her feet and began racing down the corridor. A steady stream of music and voices drifted through the empty passages, their pounding footsteps echoing. Hana skidded as she round a corner to the right, and began bolting down steps two at a time.
Yumiko didn’t slow. Her lithe figure hurtled the banister. With the grace of a cat, she fell the short distance down to the second flight and the slanted rail below, one hand gripping the slanted rail, two feet firmly planted upon it.
She grinned at Hana who was on the flight of steps adjacent.
«No fair!» The words hardly left her mouth before Yumiko dropped once more. Hana could barely keep up. Before she hit ground level, Hana took Yumiko’s example to heart by jumping the last rail and landed six yards behind her.
Yumiko laughed, her face’s hue reddening at the expense of the other girl. «And you’re the one on the track team!»
«Baka! One misstep and you could have been killed, Yumiko. Don’t do that!»
Yumiko just grinned cheekily and dashed for the door, exuberantly shoving it open so hard it connected with the outside wall and vibrated violently.
Sunlight and sound cascaded over them as they charged out across a narrow street and over the grounds. The smell of fresh cut grass wafted over the crisp air. Students littered the grounds turning it into a sea of green, black, and white as all were in their school uniforms for the competitions.
The two deftly zigzagged through the throng of students. Hana once again found herself amazed by her friend’s ability to narrowly avoid plowing over bystanders. It was a show in dexterity; narrowly skirting collisions, she’d swiftly dodged obstructions even with her rather large backpack on.
«Misuzu?»
«Hai.»
«Cho?»
«Hai.»
«Miazawa?» The teacher attempting to complete roll-call was met with silence as Miazawa Yumiko raced up behind her. «Silly girl is late ag. . . »
«HAIYumiko shouted from behind, startling Tanese-sensei into crying out and dropping her clipboard. The teacher rounded on the giggling fourteen-year-old.
Yumiko grinned flippantly, her composure the perfect impersonation of oblivious exuberance. «Hai, domo, present and ready for competition Yoko Sun Sensei!»
Tanesse-Ito Yoko was able to squelch down her frustration toward the careless youth with a good deal of difficulty. With all the archery students and the large crowd gathered and watching, she preferred not to shout. All the students liked Yumiko immensely for no respectable reason she could discern. Tanese-Ito sensei got the distinct impression they were, in part, laughing at her.
Because of all the reckless, wild, inept youth she’d met, her initial evaluation placed Yumiko in the category of “liable to shoot herself in the face while using her toe to draw.” Expecting the youth to be the most destructive threat to safety she’d ever known, she’d been stunned to see how quickly Yumiko caught on. The girl didn’t really practice. It seemed that it was dead instinct she shot with; the same uncanny instinct she used to avoided danger and causing damage to others. No, Yumiko was not a hazard. Her concern was for on the other student archers. Every time Tanese-Ito sensei thought about them taking up Yumiko antics without being as adept at side-stepping logic and injuries made the teacher want to pull her hair, screaming.
Within ten minutes the contestants were ready to go, in position, and poised to begin.
Tanese-Ito sensei inclined her head to Yumiko, who took the cue and readied herself.
Lightly poised on the balls of her feet, Yumiko awaited the shouted signal to draw. The wind blew crisp, stirring up bright dry leaves. It caught her hair, lifting it from her shoulders.
On the mark, fluidly, she pulled from her quiver and set the arrow, knocked, and drew. The rest of the world phased out. All her being went into the arrow. For Yumiko, accuracy was not a matter of alignment; it was her knowing and maintaining complete confidence that the arrow would hit where she desired it to. The arrow’s stationary will was suspended, and in its place was her will for it to fly. Archery provided Yumiko with a well of giddy joy by bringing the shaft to life; bending it and filling it with her soul.
Down row, a mis-strung bowstring snapped and sent an arrow flying.
Yumiko felt something graze her eyebrow, snapping her out of revelry to the sound of Tanese-Ito sensei throwing an out and out tantrum.
The teacher’s face was red, her wrath cowing every archer into putting their bows and arrows to the ground. Hiroo-kun looked as if he wanted to dig a hole and burry himself; his face red with shame, knuckles white from the grip he had on his bow, its string snapped.
Yumiko turned the other direction, finding a shaft sticking out of the ground, thankfully a good six feet from any spectators.
«Look at this! It’s strung backward! Backward, a lesson I taught you last year! Where is your head? It’s over, it’s done for you! Apologize, boy.»
«Hiroo?»
Both teacher and demoralized student looked up surprised to see a cheery Yumiko. «Hiroo-kun, you lost this.» She drew the arrow from behind her back and placed it in his hands.
Hiroo’s eyes widened at the sight of blood trickling by her eye like a tear and dropped the arrow he’d unconsciously accepted. Pulling out a handkerchief, he felt mortified by the recognition that he could have taken out her eye. «Yumiko, you’re bleeding. Let me.»
She laughed at him. «I don’t think you meant to trim my eyebrow.» She then pointed to her cut, blood trickling out of it. «I think I shall have a scar. Isn’t that wonderful? A finer scar than all my brothers’. It shall make a fine story, how I got it at my first competition.»
His brows furrowed, confused by her ability to take this in stride. «I was careless when I strung my bow. It’s my fault it snapped. I’m sorry.»
«If there were no accidents, there would be no brownies.» She laughed at him and the lovely confused look on his face. Tanese-Ito sensei watched with her lips pressed into a fine line, teetering between anger and letting the ordeal go.
«And it will be a better story once I’ve won the match.»
Tanese-Ito saw the girl’s self assured smile which left no room for the possibility of cancellation, and couldn’t help but cave in. There was something about the girl that prevented her from staying angry too long or going against the child’s resolve.
***
Hana and Yumiko were returning to the school, crossing the narrow street and dodging traffic along with a crème colored stray ally cat.
«Brilliant! How did you do it Yumiko? How did you convince Tanese-Ito sensei to allow the competition to continue after you were shot, by that hansom Hiroo no less, and then proceed to win said competition? Your luck. . . I think you were born under a good sign. What was your sign?»
«The boar.»
«Oh. Well, I guess you can’t tell with those ancient things. Ouch!»
Both girls looked up to see that several youth, over excited by the day’s events, throwing their school supplies off the roof. Hana raised her fist to them in anger. «Baka! All of you! What will you do when you’ve put my eyes out?»
Faintly, from high up, they heard one of the boys reply, «Hana, I want to see you run again!»
With that they directed several of their projectiles toward her. Hana ran.
Yumiko stood her ground and curiously raised her head to look death in the eye.
Glossary:
Baka: A very mean way to call somebody stupid.
Hai or Hai, domo:A positive afirmation; yes, I concur.
Subtitles
- Darkness and Starlight
- Abigail of Wellington
- Niobe of St. Andrews
- Arielle of Cedar Brook
- Yumiko of Shinjuku
- The Banks of River Running
- Stiff and Stark
- Screams in the Dark
- The Red Bird
- Many Meetings
- Night Fight
- Yumiko's New Friend
- A Mind of One's Own
- Running in Circles
- The Price for Revenge
- The Coming Night
- It Speaks English!
- Fragile Things: I
- Lull