In her hand is the Shinai, a sword consisting of four staves of bamboo, joined together at the handle and tip by leather straps. Designed to flex as it strikes an object, the Shinai, though infinitely safer than its predecessors, the Fukurojinai and Bokuto, is still a weapon that can kill.

She takes her place across from her opponent. Rich Rappaport is bigger, stronger, and more experienced than Dominique, but lacks her tenacity.

Master Pope calls out, ‘Rei.’

The two student combatants face each other and bow.

‘On your marks.’

Bracing their bamboo swords, each moves into a crouching posture.

‘Begin!’

Dominique attacks, shouting out, ‘Men!’ as she launches an overhead blow to her opponent’s head. Rappaport blocks the strike, but the woman’s furious barrage continues, her Shinai a blur as it lashes out at the man’s forearms and chest. Dominique calls out body-part names before each strike, her brown eyes focused intently on her fellow Kendo student through the bars of her headpiece.

‘Oosh!’ Master Pope awards Dominique a point for a strike to the top of the head.

The two students return to their spots.

‘One to zero. On your marks … begin!’

‘Kote!’ Dominique prances ahead, her Shinai raised to strike Rappaport’s forearms—

‘Men!’ as the tip of her opponent’s sword strikes her in the throat.

‘Oosh!’

Dominique drops to one knee, swallowing hard against the throbbing pain.

Master Pope bends to her. ‘Can you continue, Ms. Smith?’

She nods.

‘One to one. Back to your marks.’

She hustles back to her place, her blood pressure seething.

‘And … begin!’

Dominique is an erupting volcano, her anger raging, her arm and shoulder muscles bulging beneath her armor as she whirls the Shinai at the retreating Rappaport—

—who deftly blocks each of her strikes, then slices her across the midsection.

‘Oosh!’ Master Pope signals to Rappaport. ‘Two to one, point and match. Rei to me, to each other … and shake hands.’

Rappaport offers his hand, his face expressionless in victory.

Dominique shakes his hand, avoiding the eyes of the senior student.

‘Ms. Smith, may I see you?’

Dominique tucks her headpiece into her gym bag and joins Master Pope in his office. ‘Yes, sir?’

‘How’s your throat?’

‘Fine.’

Master Pope smiles. ‘It’s good you were wearing Bogu or you’d be speaking out of a second mouth.’

She nods politely, her cheeks flushing beneath her Hispanic complexion.

‘Andrea, you’re an excellent student, truthfully, I’ve never met anyone who trains so hard as you. But in battle, technique is not everything. Kendo teaches us to observe our opponent and devise the appropriate strategy in order to achieve victory. You fight with anger, you fight to kill, and in doing so, you reveal your weaknesses to your opponent.’

‘Yes, sir.’