Football Frenzy (2 page)

“I would’ve told them they were mad,” Josh said.

“I’m having a pretty good summer, how about you?” Jessica asked.

“Best summer ever,” Josh agreed.

Josh and Jessica exchanged grins. When they’d first been introduced to Granny Murata’s secret team of elderly ninjas, this place had taken Josh’s breath away with its banks of
monitors, the control panel covered in hundreds of buttons and dials, the wall of polished weapons, and the high-tech grappling hooks and harnesses that hung from an old-fashioned hatstand in one
corner.

But as Josh looked around now, it felt kind of like home, even though the scene could easily have belonged to a mad sci-fi anime film.

Granny nodded at two people standing beside the racks of weaponry. “Sachiko-san, Mimasu-san,” she said, using the polite, proper Japanese address.

Josh’s eyebrows twitched. He recognized Sachiko, the Team O mistress of disguises, smiling at the twins with a pair of sparkling dentures. But the other one looked nothing like Mimasu, the
team’s elderly, female technology expert. This was a middle-aged man. How could Granny have mistaken him for Mimasu?

Sachiko adjusted the man’s collar and smoothed down his sideburns, then frowned. She folded her arms and her collection of faded tattoos wrinkled up around her elbows.

“Hmm. This prosthetic isn’t sticking right. Let me put a little more glue around the edge.”

She bent over a little table covered in pots and tubes and brushes. The man turned to smile at the twins, and Josh gasped. It
was
Mimasu! He could just about recognize the glint in her eye, but
the rest of her face was totally different.

Sachiko winked at the twins as she straightened up, holding a pot of glue and a tiny spatula. “Do you like my latest masterpiece?” she asked. “Mimasu-san, give us a twirl and
let the kids see what a little latex and paint can do.”

Josh and Jessica approached as Mimasu turned slowly on the spot. Josh could hardly believe it was her. She was still the tallest of Team O, but she’d lost at least twenty-five years and
gained a jutting chin and a moustache.

“Mostly prosthetics,” Sachiko explained. Josh cringed as she appeared to dig a scalpel into part of Mimasu’s skin, underneath one of the sideburns, but when he looked closer he
saw that it was just latex, painted to match the flesh around it perfectly. “I wish I could sell my de-aging technique in Hollywood,” she added, a little wistfully.
“Unfortunately, it’s a Japanese state secret.”

“I should be going,” Mimasu said. It was a shock to hear her old lady’s voice coming from the lips of a younger man. “I need to be at the embassy before two
o’clock.”

“A mission?” Jessica asked Granny. Granny pursed her lips in an “It’s confidential” way. “Oh...right.
Top secret
. I guess we’re not needed on
this one.”

Not needed?
No way!
Josh was determined to find out how he and his twin could help. What else were they going to do? Another day’s training at the dojo sounded so tame when
they could be getting involved in some real ninja action.

Mimasu and Sachiko walked out through the heavy metal door that led to Team O’s workshops, passing Mr. Yamamoto on his way in. The tanned old weapons expert grinned and waved to Josh.
“Hi there,” he said. “How was your training today?”

“It was great—” Josh began. Granny coughed pointedly. “Er – I mean –
jisshuu yokatta...desu?
”

“Very good.” Mr. Yamamoto smiled, the skin on his face wrinkling up like a raisin. “And your Japanese is improving as well! So, what do you have planned for the rest of your
stay in Tokyo? When you’re not helping us fight crime, that is.”

Josh grinned. “Football! We’re going to the big match tomorrow.”

“Japan versus Portugal,” Jessica added, excitedly. “It’s going to be
awesome
. Apparently all the tickets have sold out!”

Mr. Yamamoto raised an eyebrow. “How did you manage to get hold of some?” he asked.

“You remember Kiki?” Jessica said. Kiki was the pop star Team O had rescued from the Yakuza – she and the twins had become good friends.

“Indeed,” said Mr. Yamamoto. “Who could forget such a stunning young lady?”

“Yamamoto-san,” Granny snapped. “Please act your age.”

Mr. Yamamoto winked at Josh.

Josh remembered Mr. Yamamoto’s tales of his various wives and tried not to snigger. “Anyway,” he said, “Kiki is friends with Shinichiro Hanzo – he’s the best
goalkeeper in the J League, maybe in the
world
– and she got us tickets to watch the match and I...” Josh finally had to pause for breath. “...can’t wait.”

“If he’s as good as you say, I should put some money on Japan winning their match against England this Saturday!” Mr. Yamamoto said.

“Gambling is a filthy habit,” said Granny sternly.

“Well...if everybody’s putting bets on Japan, the odds won’t be very good anyway.” Mr. Yamamoto smiled. “Have fun at the game, you two – it’ll be more
exciting than hanging around with us old people, eh?”

“Yeah, right!” Josh said, as he watched Mr. Yamamoto pick up a pair of long, gleaming katanas from the weapons rack and head for the Team O combat practice room.

“Now,” said Granny, “wait here while I fetch my equipment, then we can return to the apartment and I shall make you a nice healthy lunch.”

She left through another of the heavy doors.

“Nice healthy lunch...” Jessica repeated after their granny had gone. “I can’t wait.”

“Yeah, tofu...” Josh deadpanned. “It’s my favourite, right after salad.”

Jessica gave him a lopsided grin. This was “old normal” Granny for you – the way she had always been before they’d discovered her secret. But now they knew about her
other side, they could forgive her the healthy-eating obsession.

Granny walked back in and Josh glanced around the headquarters again while they waited for the elevator. Excitement was building in his chest, and it wasn’t just about the football. Life
with “secret ninja” Granny was so much more interesting than before. You never knew what to expect next. Any day now they could be off on another mission, fighting crime and saving
Tokyo. He had to make it happen.
It’s what we were meant to do
, he thought, drawing in a deep breath.
I’m ready!

The crowd filled the Ajinomoto Stadium with waves of noise that echoed between the huge screens advertising fizzy drinks. One of the screens flashed up
the score:
EXTRA TIME: JAPAN 1 – PORTUGAL 0
.

It was hot and humid, and even though it was a Tuesday afternoon, the stadium was crammed to the roof with supporters from both teams. Josh leaned forward, his heart in his mouth, as out on the
pitch a Portuguese striker turned on his heel and managed to get the ball past the Japanese defenders.

“No!” Kiki squealed, hunched down in the seat next to Josh, half-hiding behind her Japan scarf. The striker barrelled towards the goal with the defenders in his wake. Josh could feel
the crowd around him breathing in, clutching their flags, all eyes on the white figure in goal.

“Save it, Shini...” Josh muttered.

The striker feinted right, then sent the ball arcing towards the left side of the goal. Shini leaped like a cat, snatching the ball just before it crossed the goal line. He landed and rolled,
the ball safely cradled to his chest.

The crowd went crazy, leaping out of their seats and roaring, as he stood up and booted the ball down the pitch to the waiting feet of a Japanese midfielder. He turned to the home fans and
raised both hands in triumph.

“Go Shini!
Hai, hai, hai!
” Kiki shrieked happily, leaping out of her seat. Josh could hear the triumph in the singing of the Japanese fans, even though he couldn’t catch
any of the words.

“It’s not quite over yet...” Jessica said. She was glancing from the action to her watch, to her reporter’s pad full of scrawled notes and back to the pitch, her face
full of tension. “Come on, ref, blow the whistle!”

The Portuguese and Japanese players were scrapping over the ball in the centre circle, fighting for control...

Then the huge speakers hanging over the crowd relayed the piercing shriek of a whistle, and down on the pitch, the referee held up his hand.

The crowd roared again. Kiki screamed for joy, the strength of her pop-star lungs making Josh’s ears ache.

“Come on!” she said, flinging her scarf over her shoulder. “Let’s go down and congratulate him.”

“Congratulate who?” asked Jessica.

“Shini, of course!”

The twins shared a glance. “Erm...okay!”

As they walked, Jessica put a hand over her nose. “What’s that smell?”

Josh grimaced. “I think it’s...
feet
.”

“This is more like the PE changing room at school than an international stadium,” Jessica sniffed.

“I suppose feet smell the same pretty much anywhere...” Josh said.

“Ah, here,” said Kiki. “Locker rooms.” She pushed open a swinging door, and the twins followed her through into a large area full of wide wooden benches, lockers, and
walls lined with hooks. The room was empty. Josh felt his heart sink. Had Shini already left?

“We did take a while to get here,” Kiki said, “I guess they’ve all changed. Maybe he’s waiting upstairs...”

“Wait,” said Jessica. “Did you hear that?” She walked over to an archway in the wall. An identical room lay on the other side, and as Josh walked up behind her he heard
it too –
voices
.

“
No
,” one of them said. “No. I will not.”

Josh peered round the archway, and saw a man standing between two rows of wooden benches. It was him. Shini. He’d obviously showered and changed – his hair was wet and he was wearing
clean tracksuit bottoms and a blue Team Japan jacket. Josh couldn’t believe he was so close to a genuine football legend...but there was something wrong. Shini didn’t look happy. His
arms were folded and his shoulders hunched, and he was glaring at a man wearing a large overcoat, a hat and a scarf wrapped high around his neck.
That’s odd
, thought Josh.
What’s he doing bundled up like that in this heat?

Shini looked up and saw Kiki and the twins. The other man moved, raising his head as if glancing at them too, but the hat and scarf meant that Josh couldn’t see his face. Then he strode
off through a door, slamming it behind him.

“Hey, Shini,” Kiki said softly, stepping into the room. “Are you all right? What was all that about?”

“Oh...nothing,” Shini said, shrugging. He looked uncomfortable, but then he gave Kiki a welcoming smile. “He was just a fan. A bit...intense. They ask you very odd things
sometimes. But you know all about that.”

“I do,” Kiki laughed, and it seemed to brighten Shini’s mood. He grinned at her, then at Josh and Jessica. Josh beamed back.

“That was amazing!” he blurted out. “The match, I mean. You were great.”

“
D
ō
m
ō
arigat
ō
,” said Shini. “Thank you.”

“Shini,” Kiki said, “these are my friends, Josh and Jessica Murata. They’re half English, visiting from London.”

“Oh really?” said Shini, still smiling. “Who will you be cheering for at the weekend? England or Japan?”

Josh threw a glance at his sister. “Er...well, England’s our team really,” he admitted.

“But you know, we’re half Japanese too, so I think...the best team should win,” Jessica said.

Shini laughed. “Good answer! England will be tough. Neil Ash’s right foot is my personal worst enemy this week.”

“But England’s weaker in defence now that Nick Johnson’s got a leg injury,” Josh pointed out.

Kiki’s head dropped, and she made a loud snoring sound. Everyone laughed. “Sorry, Kiki,” Shini said, patting her shoulder. His hand lingered there and she flashed him a smile,
her cheeks colouring.

Even Josh could smell romance in the air. Jessica was staring straight at Kiki and Shini.

“Soooo,” she said. “Is there something you two want to tell us? Are you guys maybe...
more
than just friends?”

Kiki blushed a little more and looked at Shini, who shrugged and nodded. “It’s a big secret,” she said. “You have to promise not to put it in any of your articles for the
school paper – the tabloids would go crazy for this news! The paparazzi already follow us wherever we go, but we don’t want to give them confirmation just yet.”

“But how did you first meet?” Jessica asked. “When did you first clap eyes on each other?”

“Shini came to the first
Banzai Banzai Benzaiten
show,” said Kiki. “We met afterwards and, well...”