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Tomoe.”
    Tomoe watched her father stride across the yard to her. She gripped the old
tachi
so tightly her hands went numb. Was this his breaking point? Seeing his daughter using the
tachi
, meant for males only? His face was unreadable.
    â€œWhy are you not using the wooden practice swords?” Kaneto asked.
    Yoshinaka met his gaze. “We don’t need them.”
    Kaneto’s face creased into deep ridges. He took Yoshinaka’s sword. “Show me, Tomoe.”
    â€œYou, Father?” Tomoe hesitated.
    â€œShow me what you can do.” Kaneto pulled up his loose pants, arranging the extra material over his sash. He held Yoshinaka’s sword aloft.
    She regarded him. It seemed she had the advantage here; she had seen her father fight many times with this sword, but he had seen her only once. She knew his left side tended to be weaker than his right, and he was less fleet of foot now. She knew Yoshinaka could dodge most of her blows, but what about Kaneto? What if she accidentally sliced through him? “Should we use the wooden practice swords?” she asked.
    â€œDon’t lose confidence now,” he barked.
“Ichi-go, ichi-e.”
    Ichi-go, ichi-e.
One encounter, one chance. With a sword like this, in combat like this, there was only one opportunity to kill or be killed.
    One opportunity to not make any mistakes.
    Further thinking would slow her down. She charged him, feinting left, before maneuvering around him to attack. He deflected her easily, coming back at her so ferociously she nearly was run through the stomach. She leaped away. He didn’t hesitate, coming at her back. She did a flip to her left, using her left hand to brace herself. His sword whistled through air near her ear. She landed on her feet and, without pausing, swept under her father’s feet. He stumbled to the ground but deflected her attack. Metal clanged on metal in a rhythm that sang with Tomoe’s blood. She might be dreaming, she thought. Sword fighting was her meditation.
    â€œStop!” Yoshinaka shouted, and Tomoe looked down to see her knees pinning down her father’s shoulders.
    Terrified, she leaped up. “Father! Are you all right?”
    Kaneto rolled over and waved off Yoshinaka’s helping hand. “Never apologize for besting me, Tomoe. It’s what I want you to do.” He spat out a clump of dirt, mingled with blood and saliva, and wiped the sweat from his brow. When he met her eyes, his smile was big. “You, my girl, are getting your own
tachi
.”
    Kaneto kept his word and bought her a
tachi
, a beautiful steel beast with vines and flowers engraved on the blade. Her mother had protested, of course. “Most samurai use a bow and arrows!” she said.
    â€œYou need both,” Kaneto had silenced her. “The gods gave Tomoe a gift. I have never seen anyone like her.”
    â€œThe gods put the gift into the wrong body,” Chizuru had said.
    One of the dogs barked and licked Tomoe’s hand, bringing her attention back to the lotus roots. “Do you think we’ll ever have a real battle?” she asked her mother.
    â€œThis is not the question a mother dreams her daughter will ask her.” Chizuru clucked and frowned. “Are you excited for tonight?” she asked, changing the subject. “Wada-san is coming back. Haven’t their family fortunes improved.” Chizuru smiled, as if it had been her own family to marry up.
    â€œI’d rather stay here on the farm than go work for the Taira.” Tomoe had lost her chance, if she ever cared to think of it as a chance. To her, it seemed she had escaped a dull fate. Yoshimori, through the combined efforts of Kaneto, his new brother-in-law, and several Minamoto cousins, had gotten a clerk job in the capital. “I will be your eyes and ears on the inside,” he had promised Kaneto. But Tomoe doubted Yoshimori would ever risk his new job to help them. Already he was heard