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“Someone pulled my hair,” she complains, flicking the ice white strands out of her eyes. “It took me forever to get it rolled into place. Look at this mess.” Samurai kids always wear their hair twisted into a topknot, pinned tight. But now Kyoko’s hair swirls in a fall of snow, to hang like mist around her shoulders. “Who did it?” she demands. I’m not stupid. I keep my mouth shut. Kyoko’s hair might be soft and silky to pull but her fists are hard as rock. And when she kicks, her six toenails scrape like splinters of bamboo. I’ve already got a scar to prove it. (Owl Ninja, Ch 2: Beware the Dragon)
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