by C. J. Anaya
“Mikomi, what on earth is your father talking about?”
I glanced at Daiki, a sense of helplessness stealing over me. A trickle of blood inched down the side of his temple. He met my eyes and nodded for me to answer, though it looked as if that single movement caused him quite a bit of pain. Their fear coursed through me as if it were my own, but it pertained more to my safety than theirs. I didn’t know where their son was, but didn’’t want to mention the boy if Daiki had managed to hide him. No doubt my father would have used their son as extra leverage given the opportunity, but the baby was nowhere to be seen. I felt bile rise up the back of my throat, and my anger burned brighter than ever.
“These people are my friends. I…I visit them at their place of residence.”
“I don’t understand. I thought you weren’t allowed to speak with anyone outside the palace walls, and when has the emperor ever allowed you to visit the village with your guards?””
I inhaled deeply before responding. “I visit them unaccompanied without the emperor’s knowledge or consent.” I raised my eyes to Katsu’’s, taking in his bewildered expression. This was the price I paid for being less than honest with him.
“You’ve been visiting these commoners without express permission from your father or myself? For how long?”
I heard my father’s delighted chuckle. “Oh, my daughter has succeeded in keeping her secrets for quite some time. The better question to ask her is this: Just what, exactly, does she do when she visits these people?”
I stared at the floor, feeling Katsu’s eyes boring holes into the top of my skull. My father had discovered everything and there was no point in denying my activities any longer. I made eye contact with Katsu again and nearly flinched at his intensity. I sensed his anger, but wasn’t sure who it was directed at.
“I’m the village healer.” I cleared my throat and tried to speak with more confidence than I possessed. “When there is someone hurt or ill, Daiki sends me word of that person’s infirmities, and I try to help in any way I can.”
“How long?” Katsu repeated.
“Since I was twelve years old.”
My father’s laughter broke the strained silence between Katsu and myself. “All this time I thought my daughter hadn’t any backbone. I’’m so pleased by this discovery of your devious nature. I’m almost inclined to forget the whole thing without punishing you the way you so richly deserve.”
“You lay a hand on Mikomi, and you’ll live to regret it,” Katsu warned.
“Katsu, are you not angered by your betrothed’s deception?” My father’s feigned concern on Katsu’s behalf was laughable. “Why, only yesterday she was out with these unsavory people doing who knows what.”
Katsu looked at me quickly. “Is this true?”
I nodded. “A little girl needed my help. Her fever would not resolve itself.”
“And you actually succeeded in helping her?”
Again I nodded, feeling guilty and ashamed that I had kept secrets from Katsu when he had never been anything but fair and kind to me.
“How long did it take you to accomplish the healing?”
I looked at the floor. So this was shame. I’d certainly experienced a form of it after every beating from my father, but this was different. By omitting the truth, I cast Katsu out of that circle of trust. My whole body shook from the weight of his disapproval and disappointment. “It took longer than usual. Nearly half an hour.” I kept my eyes glued to the floor and waited for some kind of response from him. When he remained silent I dared a glance upward and wished I hadn’t. He looked truly distraught by my actions. He took this so very personally and he had every right to.
“Katsu, please don’t be angry with me. I didn’t mean to deceive you or keep secrets from you, but the people in this empire do not have the resources necessary to combat the illnesses that run rampant due to their circumstances. I merely wanted to help them. They’re my people and they needed my help.”
His eyes softened as I explained the reasoning behind my actions, but my father couldn’t resist adding his own poisonous opinion.
“She’s compromised her ability to become a full kami. With all of those years of healing others you must be wondering if she’ll have the strength necessary to ascend to her immortal state within the timeframe allotted her. She must be punished for such disobedient behavior.”
“The only one who has compromised her ascension is you. Her ki became damaged when you ordered her to heal her mother. She cannot perform even the simplest of healings at the moment let alone become a full kami.” Katsu glared at my father and took a threatening step forward. ““She can’t even gather the information you so desperately need from your soldier in that other room. Not that I would allow such a use of her abilities either way.”
The anger, fear, and pain smothered me from the inside out. My own anger wasn’t making it any easier to breathe. My father and Katsu were talking circles around me, dictating what I would and wouldn’t do as if I were no longer standing in the room with them. I wasn’’t a child, but would never be treated as if I had a mind of my own or a will to choose for myself. The idea that I needed permission to use my powers in any way other than how I saw fit began a slow boiling rage to build deep within me.
I reined in my expression. I’d had years to perfect that blank look on my face.
“If you don’t allow her to transfer my soldier’s memories, then I will kill her two friends as punishment.”
“No,” I shouted. I rushed toward Daiki and Hatsumi, but froze the moment the guard added more pressure to the knife at Hatsumi’s throat. She let out a soft whimper, but held perfectly still. I turned a pleading look at my father. “I told you I will ferret out the information you need. Please let them be.”
Katsu walked over and placed a restraining hand on my shoulder. “I forbid this, Mikomi. You remember what Kenji said. I can’t heal your ki if you don’t have the energy to accept the healing, and you can’t have that if you’re constantly using your power for something other than what it is meant for. I won’t condone this.””
I stared at him open-mouthed. “But these people will die. Please, Katsu, they are my friends.”
“Well, they shouldn’t be,” he fairly yelled. “What were you thinking, traipsing about the woods and village as a medicine woman? Why would you heal peasants and talk with commoners completely unguarded while using your powers in such a reckless manner?” He grabbed both my shoulders, shaking me as if to emphasize the importance of his words. “How could you take no thought for your safety? What if someone had attacked you during your many outings? Your life is not your own, Mikomi. The fate of this world rests in our hands and without you there is no one who can save it.” He breathed deeply and released my shoulders. “The small number of people you help won’t matter in the long run if you are not around to save the whole of mankind. This behavior is selfish, Mikomi. Selfish and immature.”
I raged against his assessment of my future, what he thought I almost failed to accomplish. I could understand his anger, even sympathize on some level, but I didn’t believe I had to shut myself away from the world in order to save it from the evil plans of a demon god. What kind of a savior would I be if I wasn’t here, working alongside the ones I had been born for?
“I apologize for not telling you about the village or the healings I performed for the people there, but you must show mercy on these two kneeling before you. Please, Katsu, let me gather the information my father needs so they may go free.”
“Even if I allowed this, it’s impossible. Your ki is broken, Mikomi. You couldn’t possibly succeed with how damaged you are, and you might hurt yourself even further.””
My father took determined steps toward his prisoners. “You say her ki is too damaged? I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”” He slipped a knife from his belt and thrust it into Daiki’s side.
I heard one, long, terrified scream and realized it originated from my own mouth as I rushed
to Daiki before he fell over, catching him and lowering his back to the floor. Katsu shouted something, but I paid him no mind.
“No, no, no.” I grabbed the tavern keeper’s head between my hands, closed my eyes and tried to connect to his ki. I panicked when I felt absolutely nothing. I couldn’’t reach out to him. My own ki was unresponsive. I looked at his ashen face as he took in ragged breaths. “I’ll keep trying,” I said in a reassuring voice. “You’ll be fine.”
Hatsumi’s strangled sobs stabbed at my heart. I attempted another connection, but received nothing. I was completely blocked, as helpless as any normal human in a situation such as this. Katsu’s words penetrated my frenzied thoughts as I surveyed the area for some kind of material to bind Daiki’s wound.
“Mikomi, you cannot help this man. I’m sorry, but you’re going to hurt yourself if you try.”
“I don’t understand. This is a fairly easy wound for her to heal. I’ve had her heal worse,” my father said. His tone was conversational, pleasant even, as if he hadn’t just stabbed a man I considered family. Daiki was going to die, and my father behaved as if we were all taking a nice little walk through the gardens, enjoying the scenery and soaking in the warmth of the sun.
“I told you, she damaged herself. She cannot heal due to your selfish abuse of her powers.” Katsu placed a hand on my shoulder. “Come, Mikomi. There is nothing you can do for these people.”
I turned to look at Katsu and wondered at his detachment to the situation. How could he be so heartless?
“I may not be able to heal Daiki, but I know you can. You saved me. I know you can save him.”
Katsu shook his head. “What I did, I did out of necessity. Kami do not use their powers to heal people. It can jeopardize our immortality.”
I moved away from him and placed my hands on Daiki’s head again. Closing my eyes, I tried to sense or feel something, anything, but Katsu grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back. He must have leveled himself to the ground because I found myself with my back pinned against his chest, his arms like a vise holding me still.
“Mikomi, this ends now. I won’t allow you to hurt yourself further.” His tone broached no further argument.
I watched Daiki’s chest rise and fall as he struggled for air, the wound at his side seeping blood all over the floor. I couldn’t hold back the sobs that ripped from my throat as Daiki’s breathing became more labored.
“Please, Katsu, heal him.” I leaned my head back against his chest, not able to struggle against him any longer. “He is my family. Please help him,”” I whispered.
Katsu held me still for a few more moments and then gently moved me to the side as he reached forward and placed his hands on Daiki’s head. I held my breath and waited as Katsu focused all of his healing abilities on Daiki’s stab wound. I watched in fascination as the cut in his flesh slowly sealed shut and the bleeding stopped.
I’d never actually witnessed a healing.
Being the watcher instead of the doer was an entirely new experience for me, and at that moment, any doubts I may have had about Katsu and his character were gone. He sacrificed a part of himself to save someone I loved. It was one thing to risk his immortality for my sake, but to save a peasant simply because I asked him to, shed light upon Katsu’s motivations where I was concerned.
Was it possible he truly loved me?
I let out a shuddering sob as Katsu helped Daiki into a sitting position, and then untied the rope binding his hands. He swiftly stood and reached for the knife at Hatsumi’s throat, throwing the guard backward and into the wall. I crawled over to both Daiki and Hatsumi and embraced them, shedding happy tears that my family was safe for now.
I startled at the mocking sound of applause from my father.
“Well, this is entertaining. My daughter is incapable of healing anyone, and her betrothed is incapable of healing his future wife, yet risks his immortality for two insignificant peasants. Interesting turn of events, I must say.”
Katsu managed an angry grunt. I looked at him and noted dark circles forming under his eyes. Healing was my gift, not his. The power he used to save Daiki had weakened him. Guilt at the pain and discomfort this may have caused him warred against my own interests and desires. I couldn’t lose my family, and I had shamelessly put Katsu in this position to save them. He deserved someone far better than me.
I directed my attention back to my father and wondered at the calculating expression he wore.
He should have been furious at my inability to gather the information he needed. After years of dealing with his explosive behavior, this new level of calm disturbed me. Something wasn’t right, but I was too emotionally spent to analyze the problem.
“Though this is all very touching—nauseatingly so—I do hope you’ll excuse me while I take care of some important matters elsewhere.” Just before leaving the room, he turned once again and addressed me. “Don’t think for one second I’’ve given up on this venture. Once you’ve had time to rest, I want that information from my soldier.”
“I already told you, I won’t allow that, Fukurokuju!”
My father turned to Katsu. “Then I’ll start killing all of the peasants she’s managed to heal over the last five years, starting with that woman she’’s embracing. Based on your reaction to her heartfelt pleading on behalf of her peasant family, I’m inclined to think you’ll allow her participation in this so as not to see her hurt with the loss of those she seems to care for.”” My father shook his head, feigning disappointment. “Honestly, Katsu, I thought you knew better than to fall in love, and with your future wife no less. Sloppy, old friend. Very sloppy.”
My father sailed out of the room, knowing full well he held all the cards.
I would worry about the emperor later. My concern resided with my friends’ well-being. I reached for Hatsumi’s hand.
“Where is your son? Please tell me he is safe.”
Her hand shook a little in mine. “We hid him with a visiting neighbor when the emperor’s guards approached the back of the tavern. They’ve never before shown up like that in so many numbers, and we sensed something was amiss.”
“We must get you back to your son.”
“Not yet,” Katsu said. He stood while the rest of us huddled on the floor. “It isn’t like the emperor to concede defeat. He isn’t one to back down. I’m worried he may attempt to hurt your friends again, Mikomi.” He turned to Daiki and helped him to his feet and then assisted Hatsumi. I stood as well, afraid that my family might still be in danger.
“I don’t wish to know the details of your relationship with the princess, though it would seem you have done much to take care of her, and for that I am grateful. Heaven knows she’s received no such treatment here, but this...relationship cannot continue. It is neither safe for your family or for the princess.”
I ached at this pronouncement, but couldn’t fault its accuracy.
Katsu continued, “I will have guards accompany you back to your place of residence to retrieve your son, and then you must leave this empire immediately.”
“Katsu, they will lose everything,” I said in alarm.
“They will lose their lives if they don’t. Your father will exploit your feelings for them however he sees fit. If this happens again, you will not be given enough time to save them.”
I tried to keep the tears at bay, but I had already been crying and the thought of never seeing Hatsumi and Daiki again was almost unbearable.
“Mikomi, the less power the emperor has over you the better. I’ve known him for hundreds of years, and he always leaves casualties in his wake, whether it is necessary or not. I can fight several men at one time, but I cannot protect your friends against your father’’s armies. They must leave the village as soon as possible.”
I turned to Daiki. My heart broke at his pained expression. “I am so sorry, Daiki. You will have to start over because of me.”
His smile held sadness, but not defeat. “This is not your fault, and we will
prevail, I promise you.”
“You must focus on what is most important here.” Hatsumi reached forward and brushed the hair off of my brow. “You hold the weight of the world on your shoulders, and these next few weeks will be critical for you. It is a terrible burden to bear, but I know you will manage whether we are here with you or not.”
I felt Katsu rest a hand on my shoulder. “I will make sure they leave the village in safety, without your father’s knowledge, but you must say goodbye to them now, Mikomi.”
I nodded and grabbed Daiki’s and Hatsumi’s hands. “For a very long time now I have loved you both as if you were my own parents. Thank you for taking care of me all these years.””
“It was an honor and a privilege, Princess,” Daiki said.
I embraced them one last time and then watched as Katsu led them out of my father’s quarters. They would be safe and I would try to be brave, but at that moment I couldn’t help sinking to the floor, lowering my head in my hands and weeping more than I had ever allowed myself to openly weep in my entire life.
Chapter Four
I’m not certain how long I cried on the floor of my father’s study, but soon my thoughts were interrupted by a strange, slow beating. I lifted my head and focused my puffy eyes in its general direction, but I had a hard time placing it. I finally stood, closed my eyes, and focused more intently on the beating sound that reverberated throughout my body.
My feet were drawn toward my right, and with my eyes closed I allowed them to move of their own volition toward the hollow beating sound. I soon stilled as the beating faded, and then opened my eyes, coming face to face with the door leading into the room where the injured commander lay unconscious. The faint beating of his heart spurred my feet forward.
It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. I experienced this awareness whenever one’s ki stood on the precipice of death, ready to venture forward toward the next phase of its journey.
Within minutes the commander would pass on, and without the information he alone possessed, the rebels’ hopes of cutting off the emperor’s source of funding would come to naught.