After the positive feedback I decided to post the second installment of this story. Some people called shenanigans, which I guess is understandable. Unfortunately though, these stories are real.

Two days after I arrived in the U.S. I called Melissa back in Japan. Melissa was the daughter of Sensei Karurosa. Her late mother was white and American, with long blonde hair. Melissa was an incredible mix of Asian and Caucasian. I swear I fell for her the first time I saw her. Yes, I was only five years old, but I still thought she was amazing. She started taking karate lessons at her father's dojo as soon as she could learn how to walk. That is where I met her. When we turned fifteen we started dating. She was my first and only love.

When I called her two days later of course she was quite distraught, as her father was missing along with his katana. Some of the relics and artifacts from the dojo were also missing. She didn't know what happened.

Unfortunately I knew there was no way I could tell the truth for I knew she would do one of two things. If she went to the police I would no doubt be arrested for at least theft and possibly murder. A white boy who commits a crime the day before going back to the states is not going to be treated well.

My bigger fear was that she would hunt down and try to kill Robutaku. She too was a black belt but I knew that if she tried to kill Robutaku she would end up dead. So there was no way I could tell her what happened.

Over the next few months she pleaded for me to come back to Japan when I got the chance. Summer break was approaching and I didn't have much of an excuse. Of course, I couldn't come back. If I did I would be dead upon arrival. She didn't understand. Her father was gone, and now I was too. The combination of the double abandonment was too much for her. She gave me an ultimatum. Either I come visit her or she would never speak to me again. I had to choose the latter, I couldn't go back to Japan, not only would I likely be killed but I would also put her in great danger.

So about six months after returning to NY I spoke to her for the last time. Losing her hurt more than losing Sensei Karurosa. As I previously mentioned, two years ago I contacted a private investigator in Japan. He had said that Robutaku had left Japan four years ago and had not returned. Not once. He also said that Melissa was still in Japan. I thought maybe this was my chance for closure; it was killing me having this hanging over my head. I knew I probably still couldn't explain what happened, but at least I could see her again and hopefully the time apart would allow her to forgive me.

So five months ago I headed back to Japan. When I came upon her house she was gardening outside. She looked more beautiful than ever. She was clearly shocked to see me, part happy, part angry. I simply told her that I had reasons why I couldn't come back to Japan, that it would have put us both in great danger and that she would have to trust me on that. And she did.

There was something very different about her. It seemed like the spark in her eyes was gone. She seemed dead inside. I didn't think it could still be over her father. What she then told me knocked the wind out of me. I had a son. The night before I had left for the states we had had sex for the first time. In the six months of conversations following that night she never told me she was pregnant. She didn't know she was pregnant until about a month after I left and by then I had already made it pretty clear that I didn't really want to go back to Japan. I guess she didn't want to bother telling me if I wasn't going to be there for her or the baby.

I asked her where my son is, but I knew it wasn't good. Melissa had married soon after I left and a few years ago Melissa came home to find her husband Takashi had taken her son and left. She has not been able to find them since. I asked if I could see a picture of my son. She took me inside. The first thing I noticed was a huge picture of Sensei Karurosa on the wall. I hadn't even seen a picture of him since his death, and seeing the picture of that proud man brought me back to that night. Next to him was a picture of a beautiful boy, about six years old. He looked a lot like me. It was my son. I was happy and torn and the same time. But this roller coaster of emotions wasn't over yet, I certainly wasn't prepared for what was next.

For next to the picture of my son, was a picture of Melissa with her husband Takashi. The problem was that whom she called Takashi, I knew as Robutaku! I almost threw up. She explained that two years after I left, Robutaku came back to the dojo, pleading for forgiveness. It was Sensei Karurosa who had banished them, the other sensei weren't as strict though and allowed him back. He promised that he had changed. He said his brother Sutebe was the bad influence and now that Sutebe had moved to Europe he was truly a different person. So different, that he called himself Takashi.

I started crying. I couldn't hide it any longer. I told Melissa everything. She puked enough for both of us.

Despite Melissa's claim that Robutaku was "a different person", I was still shocked that she fell for him. As I spent more time with her it became apparent that Melissa never really loved him, she had lost her father and best friend on the same night and was a very young single mother with not much of a support group so it shouldn't be all that surprising that she accepted Robutaku into her life. I also understood why my PI never linked the two together, "Takeshi" managed to keep his life separate from Robutaku and didn't spend all that much time with Melissa, whom he never properly married. Apparently Robutaku was very active in Tokyo, spending only a few nights a week with Melissa.

After my two weeks was up it was time for me to return to New York. I wanted Melissa to come with me, but she couldn't. Our son, Colin, was still in Japan; if not in body, then in spirit. She just couldn't leave, she felt that someday he would be back in the house with her. I also knew though that she would be once again put in danger if she came back with me.

I feared for my son. I fear of my son. For I know that Robutaku is teaching him the most perverted, darkest form of ninjitsu there is. I know that my son is becoming a ninja.

Colin is ten years old now. I hope I never meet him. Because the day I do will likely be the day I have to use Sensei Karurosa's katana once again.