My Warrior Heart

Hiro kneeled on the linoleum kitchen floor in his best bathrobe and thrust the knife into his abdomen. He grimaced but was resolute. Slowly, he moved the blade from left to right until he had reached the other side of his belly, disemboweling himself. He called out — Emily! I need you! Please come quickly! A young woman with blonde hair down to her hips ran into the room and gasped. What the hell are you doing? she said.

I need you to cut my head off now! Hiro told her. Bring down the sword and behead me! Emily looked at him for a tic. Then she opened the refrigerator door and took out a jar of blueberry yogurt. Look, she said, I already told you I’m not doing this. You can cut off your own fucking head. This whole thing is gross. Hiro plopped down on the kitchen floor. How come I can’t get you to do this one little thing for me? he said.

Emily looked for a spoon. Because it’s so fucking stupid, she said. You want to ritually kill yourself because you like, didn’t make the Dean’s List? You’re not a samurai. You’re not even Japanese. You were born in Pasadena. And who told you you could kill yourself with a wooden knife? Hiro groaned.

Fuck the Dean’s List, he said. I didn’t even break 3.0. My fucking GPA is 2.3. Do you know how embarrassing this is? I have brought shame upon my family, and the wooden knife was just for practice. I have a real one, and one for you to chop off my head. You must do it with decision.

Emily opened the yogurt and put a spoon in her mouth. So let me get this straight, she said, you are going to do this whole hari-kari thing because your family is ashamed of you? You’re in Berkeley, for Christ sakes. What the hell do they want? UCLA?

Hiro put down the ritual knife and asked her to give him a Sprite. I got in, now I’m sucking, he said. I’m failing Calculus and Introduction to Einstein and I don’t have a fucking clue about quarks so I’m flunking Astrophysics too. I’ll never get a job at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory with grades like these.

Emily wondered why every Asian had to be a rocket scientist. You like rap music, don’t you? she said. Why don’t you take the African American Music class? I hear it’s an easy ‘A’. Hiro got grumpy.

I might know how to b-boy a little, but what the fuck am I gonna do with that shit when I graduate? Hiro said. Go on the road with Justin Bieber?

Hiro took a big swig of the Sprite. Even though I am not officially a samurai, the spirit of the greatest warrior Japan has ever known lives in my breast. It’s what he would do. Shame is insufferable. Death is better. Emily spooned around in the jar to scoop some blueberries. Who? Toshiro Mifune? The guy hanging on the wall? Wasn’t he just an actor? Hiro was insulted.

It was Toshiro who was transformed by Kikuchiyo, the trickster fool, the greatest of the Seven Samurai, he said. While being himself he could also be the fool. He was also being Mifune, so he was really being three people. That’s why he was the most wise and most clever of all the other samurai. He took a drink of Sprite and burped. Will you at least, you know, witness my death? I’ll just bleed out. Emily let out air.

You know Hiro, she said, I have exams, too. I can’t be here to chop your head off. But Hiro, you need to get off of this. So you’re not particularly, you know, bright. Happens to all of us. You think I’m getting straight A’s? I’m not even getting straight C’s and I’m never going to make the Dean’s List, but I’m not going to blow my brains out or anything just because my parents are like, you know, pissed off about it and stuff.

She grabbed her books and jacket, walked over to him, leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, then on the lips. I love you the way you are, Hiro, she said. Go work in a bike shop for all I care if it makes you happy. Why stay here because your family thinks you’re going to be Einstein? He looked up at her with deep sad eyes. Because I am the only son, he said.

Emily sighed and gave him a kiss on the top of his head. Well, if you don’t die or something, there’s lasagna in the fridge, she said. Then she left for school.

Hiro sat on the kitchen floor drinking his Sprite and looking up at the grainy photo of Kikuchiyo, the greatest samurai warrior who ever lived. He raised the can of soda and tilted it towards the photo. Someday, he said, the people will rise up.