Free White Ninja by Tiffiny Hall

‘Operation ninjathon by day, kids’ classes by night. Jacko here,’ he slaps Jackson on the back, ‘is one of my instructors.’
    Sabo and Jackson disappear into a side room. I walk along the wall of the dojang and look at some of theequipment. One wall is adorned with hundreds of silver rings that seem to have claws attached to them. I pick one off the wall and fit it to my middle finger. When I close my fist, the claw pops out.
    â€˜Cool,’ I gasp.
    â€˜Super cool,’ Sabomin says.
    I spin around, flustered, to see him wearing a fresh white Taekwondo uniform. Jackson is wearing a uniform too, but his is all black. He has a black hood wrapped around his head, leaving only his moss-green eyes visible.
    He performs an axe kick followed by a 540-degree spinning roundhouse kick, double side kick into a double knife hand, finishing with percussive strikes. His stances zip, and as he spins on his heels his uniform cracks as if the sleeves have been dipped in starch and he has a cat-o’-nine-tails attached to each wrist. I’m still watching his hair fly and the black belt flick as he says, ‘Cool, huh?’
    Still in a daze, I don’t respond.
    â€˜Rox?’ he says.
    I snap out of it. ‘Awesome,’ I say.
    â€˜This is the shinobi shozoku , secret uniform of the ninja,’ he says, running his hands down his chest. ‘This is a new model — there are compartments built into it for storing waste, so you can go without leaving any evidence when you’re in enemy territory.’
    â€˜Like a wetsuit for surfers?’ I say.
    He laughs. ‘Exactly.’
    He begins explaining the parts of the uniform: the black jacket with its close-fitting sleeves and no cuffs or ties that could snag on any surfaces; the black pants that tuck into cloth gaiters wound around his calves; the soleless two-toed ninja slippers called tabi. ‘The cloth of the trousers can be used for heaps of stuff,’ he says. ‘As a flotation device, or a tent or hammock. They’re also reversible for camouflage — the reverse side is green for bush.’
    â€˜I get it,’ I interrupt, becoming impatient. I don’t care about his ninja pants and what they can do, I want to know why Hero hates me. ‘Why am I here?’
    But Jackson’s so in love with his ninja suit he continues. ‘The hood, or zukin , has been soaked in an antiseptic resin to be used as a bandage, or a filter to purify water for drinking. Cool, huh?’
    Maybe the hood also makes you deaf.
    â€˜Jackson,’ I try again. ‘Why am I here?’
    He looks at me with those leafy-green eyes. ‘Okay, Roxy,’ he holds out his hand, ‘are you ready?’
    I take his hand, feeling the pulsating warmth as I brush past his wrist. ‘For what?’
    He twists my wrist and I fly into the air, spin three times and land on my knees before him.
    â€˜To show us what you can do,’ Sabo says. ‘Jacko here has been ninjaing all on his own. Old man here,’ Sabo rubs his heart again, ‘is just a retired champion. Won myself a gold in the State championships of ’73.’ He takes a long, dragging breath and shakes his head. ‘But now isn’t the time to go on about the glory days. I know a special student when I train one, and Jackson, like you, was born special.’
    I feel myself blush so hard the warmth of my cheeks practically steams up into my eyes. No one’s ever called me special. Well, Elecktra has, but I don’t think it was meant as a compliment. And not only does Sabo think I’m special, he’s put me in the same category as Jackson — two special peas in a pod. Could this day get any weirder?
    Jackson takes a bamboo stick off the wall and begins to twirl it around his body at lightning speed. The bamboo whirs in front of his face, fanning his blond hair off his forehead. Sabo nods to the wall and I pick out my own bamboo