by C. J. Anaya
I looked at him in surprise. He had spoken pleasantly enough, but the stormy set of his eyes were telling a different story. He wasn’t going to lose face and give up, but then neither was I. I would learn to fight no matter what the difficulty of our trainings or the clash of our personalities presented. Besides, the thought of never seeing him again was an unacceptable alternative. I didn’t wish to contemplate it further.
“I am pleased that this partnership is already a success. Was it necessary to strip her to her underthings, Musubi?”
“A necessary evil, considering the restriction of movement the kimono caused.”
Akane nodded. “I’m sure you gave her fair warning before having her clothing removed?”
Musubi grinned. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
Akane gave me a questioning look, but I merely nodded, too tired to tattle on my handsome trainer.
“Mikomi, my men will escort you and Kenji back to your home.”
“Thank you, Akane,” Kenji said. “Your hospitality has been greatly appreciated,”
“I will contact you again when your training requires it or your services are needed,” she said, directing her comments to me.
“She will need to continue her training on a regular basis, Akane. She will have to return again tomorrow evening.” Musubi folded his arms across his chest and gave me a smug smile. I wondered if he thought I would refuse due to my sore muscles or an inability to steal away from my “well-to-do” family.
“That should be fine, so long as Kenji can convince my…parents that another educational excursion is necessary,” I responded quickly.
Musubi didn’t look disappointed, but he didn’t look pleased either.
“I hope you are prepared to work hard again. I don’t plan on being as lenient as I was tonight.”
So now he was going to torture me until I willingly ended my own training. He literally had no idea who he was dealing with.
“I look forward to exceeding your expectations,” I said. I gave him a smile so sweet he couldn’t possibly have failed to notice the insincerity behind it.
“Excellent,” Akane said. “I’m sensing a bit of healthy competition. Whom do you think will win this battle of wills, Kenji?”
“My yen is on Mikomi. Her high tolerance for pain is quite possibly the most disturbing thing I’ve ever witnessed. You don’t stand a chance, young warrior.”
Musubi gave me a fierce look. The smile that crept across his face was akin to that of some monstrous predator. It sent delightful shivers rushing down my spine.
“We shall see, won’t we? Until tomorrow, Mikomi. Unless of course the night’s physical activities have left you too incapacitated to stand for any real length of time.”
I gave him a withering look, but he merely laughed at me.
“Come, Akane. There is still much to be done.”
I watched as Akane waved goodbye and accompanied Musubi across the ruins and out of our sight.
I felt hollow and empty once they were gone. I knew it was ridiculous, but I wasn’t sure I would be able to wait until the next evening to see Musubi. I shook my head in frustration and tried to forget about the way he made me feel. It was a fleeting moment—nothing truly serious, nothing that had any real bearing on my future. I would forget about the warrior until I was forced to train with him, and then I would forget about him again.
Simple. Easy.
Yet somewhere deep within, I knew my heart was in serious trouble.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, Katsu summoned me a little earlier for my practice session. When the guards arrived at my door to retrieve me, I came close to telling them I wasn’t interested in learning anything more about the veil and that I refused to meet Katsu anywhere. I was still furious at the callous way he had treated that poor man, and I also wanted to behave a little more like Mikomi, samurai warrior in training, and less like The Healer.
Not to mention the grogginess I felt, having taken another sleeping draught the previous night at the insistence of my maid. Apparently, I had been thrashing about within hours of sleep, and Aiko nearly had to wrestle me to the ground to awaken me. It concerned me that my nightmares were returning, and that I had no recollection of them. The details usually stayed with me.
Once she was able to wake me, I had taken the draught and according to her, slept soundly after that. Afterward, she asked if I could remember any of my nightmares, but I couldn’t tell her anything. I couldn’t remember what they had been about. I’d felt angry and frustrated, wondering if my nightmares had been brought on by the stress of joining the rebels or enduring Katsu’s presence—or both.
To distract myself, I heartily teased Aiko about her new soldier I witnessed her walking with in the gardens. She turned several shades of red and stuttered so badly I had to assure her that I was happy for her and hoped she would continue seeing him. She still seemed a bit flustered by the subject and left the room in a hurry without helping me dress or even do my hair.
I felt exhausted, irritable, and painfully aware of how helpless I was when it came to grooming myself. How could I possibly save the world when I couldn’t figure out how to put on my own kimono?
Needless to say, the last activity I wanted to participate in was another horrifying training with Katsu.
My good sense overcame my frustration, however, and I obediently arrived in the gardens just as Katsu wished. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back and a grim expression on his face.
At first, I feared he knew about my activities from the previous night. But how could he? Unless someone had been following us. I mentally shook myself, knowing I was expecting the worst when I needed to remain as positive as I possibly could. If I behaved nervous or skittish it would make him and anyone else watching me suspicious.
“Katsu,” I said, bowing deeply from my waist.
“You may rise, Mikomi. Please, there really is no need to be so formal with me.”
I gave him a shy smile and received one in return. He really was quite handsome. I knew I might have been happy with him if I desired to accept the future that had already been chosen for me, but I wasn’t my mother, and I couldn’t sacrifice my happiness only to become bitter and angry like she had.
“Walk with me,” he said, offering me his arm. We walked on in silence for a few moments, and then Katsu spoke again. “I must apologize for the way I handled our first session together. It must have seemed very wrong of me to give that man any hope of being healed when there was none.”
It surprised me that he would admit to being wrong. It wasn’t something I was used to.
“It pained me to see his hopes shattered,” I managed to say. All of a sudden I felt like crying. “I understand that you were trying to help me become more familiar with the veil, but there has to be another way.”
Katsu gave me a grim look. “Unfortunately, there isn’t. I promise you, however, I will not give anyone false hope. The woman I’ve brought to the palace this morning understands her illness is incurable but wishes to help you in your training. I personally explained everything in detail to her, and she agrees that nothing is more important than learning how to heal the veil.”
I swallowed any protests I might have made as we walked through the gardens into a large clearing. There, sitting on a small, green cushion sat a young woman. She couldn’t have been any older than myself, but she appeared to be in pain, and her left leg was swollen red and badly deformed, protruding from underneath her floral patterned skirts.
Katsu continued walking forward, but my feet stopped moving, and I pulled on his arm to stop him. I knew I couldn’t heal her, and I was already agonizing over the problem. Didn’t he understand how difficult this was for me? Couldn’t he tell how badly someone else’s suffering affected me? I didn’t want to do this again. The first time had been enough.
“Are you all right, Princess?”
I stared into his questioning face and hoped he could read the pleading i
n mine. His confusion remained. No understanding light seemed to pierce his oblivious musings. All that mattered to him was my training, and I began to understand that the value he placed on another’s life was far lower than it should have been.
I wanted to bear my heart to him, explain how I felt about my gift, what I expected from myself, how I wanted to help people, but even before I opened my mouth to speak, I knew he wouldn’t agree and would most likely argue. He would say exactly what my mother had said—healing people would prevent me from becoming a full kami. Giving life would eventually take my own.
So I said nothing. I closed my mouth and continued walking forward. I was The Healer, meek, obedient, and submissive.
“Yesterday, when you connected to the old man, were you able to sense the veil?”
“Yes, it felt more substantial this time. Like flat glass or crystal.”
“Very good. That’s exactly right. The more familiar you are with its texture the easier it will be to sense it everywhere you turn.”
We approached the young woman in the chair, and she gave us a sad little smile.
“Hello,” I said to her. “Can you tell me your name?”
“I am called Cho, your highness. Please forgive me. If I could stand and bow, I would.”
I knelt down next to her chair and placed a calming hand on her shoulder.
“There is no need for that, Cho. I can understand the kind of pain you are in.” I could feel it too. The infection in her leg had already spread to her heart. She wouldn’t have long to live. “Tell me how you injured your leg.”
“I cut it on a knife. It was an accident, and I must not have cleaned it properly.”
I sensed she was not telling me the complete truth, but I didn’t want to pry if she wasn’t comfortable answering.
“You understand that I cannot heal you, then—that I am merely practicing?”
A small tear escaped one eye and traveled down her cheek.
“I understand, Princess. But I believe in you and who you are. If I can help The Healer fulfill her destiny, I will perform whatever duty I must.”
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat but found it hard to speak.
“Then let us begin.”
I held her head and connected to her.
Princess, can you hear me?
I tried not to let the shock register on my face. It was the second time in less than three days that someone had communicated with me during a healing.
“Cho?”
“Yes, Princess. Akane wished for me to pass a message along to you.”
I felt confused all over again.
“Cho, how did she know about my training sessions with Katsu? I never told her.”
“You didn’t have to. Her spies are everywhere, and since I was a perfect candidate for your practice sessions, she asked if I would perform this one last duty for her and volunteer myself to pass along a message.”
“You didn’t cut your leg on a knife, did you?”
“It was a sword. I was injured in battle and the infection has become too much for my body to handle, but now that you have joined our side, you will save so many before they end up like me.”
I felt a tear escape and tried to keep my emotions in check.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t have helped you sooner, Cho.”
“It matters not, Princess. What is important is my message for you. Many of our soldiers were ambushed early this morning at a minor camp stationed far into the Yanbaru forest. Somehow, the emperor discovered its location. Akane needs you to meet her at the ruins again as soon as possible.”
“I can have that arranged, but please tell me what I can do for you. Do you have family that must be notified?”
“I’m an orphan. I don’t belong to anyone, but I am happy to give my life for this cause.”
The pain in her leg was fairly crushing my senses, and it was taking all of the control I possessed to stay connected with her. I began to ease her pain, though she had not asked for it. I couldn’t get rid of the infection. Every time I tried, that ridiculous block would throw me back. The feel of it had become more familiar, but my resentment was growing stronger. I spoke to Cho again.
“Please rest assured that your message has been received and all will be well.”
“Thank you, Princess. I…”
“Cho? Cho?”
Her breathing became more labored, and her heart struggled to pump blood through the valves. I tried instructing her heart to calm its frantic beating. It was overworked and stressed. Everything I attempted continued to be blocked by the veil. The only thing I had been allowed to do was eliminate the pain, but that failed to help her breathe or pump blood through her body. I finally gave up and pulled away from her ki, opening my eyes and wrapping my arms around her.
“Princess,” she breathed out softly.
I looked down into her tired eyes and smiled.
“Mikomi,” I said. “We are friends now, you and I, so you must call me Mikomi.”
She managed a very weak smile, and slowly the breath left her body; her head rested against mine. I pulled her body from her cushion and onto my lap where I could hold her more securely, but she was already gone. She was gone, and I could do nothing to bring her back. I sat there, rocking her in my arms…back and forth…back and forth. I couldn’t seem to let her go, though I hadn’t even known her. There simply wasn’t enough time to know her, and that saddened me more than I could have possibly expressed. Would anyone have been willing to listen either way? Would Katsu?
I didn’t want to think on it anymore, so I emptied my mind and heart of any sad thoughts or devastating emotions and continued to rock Cho back and forth in my arms.
I wasn’t sure how long Katsu attempted to get my attention, but I didn’t register his voice until I felt his hand on my shoulder and Cho’s body slipping from my arms. The guards were carrying her away, and I was powerless to stop them. I continued to sit on the ground, rocking back and forth…back and forth.
“Mikomi, you must snap out of this. You must look at me.”
I finally latched on to what Katsu was saying and noticed he sat next to me.
“I couldn’t save her,” I mumbled.
“Princess, I warned you she was meant to die. You cannot take this so personally. You aren’t meant to heal anyone, you are meant to heal the veil, and she willingly sacrificed her last minutes to help you accomplish that.”
How could he be so heartless? Did he really not feel her pain as I did? Could he not understand that it wasn’t about her death—it was about her life, the life she could have had if I had been there to save it? What was the point of having all this power if, in the end, it helped no one?
“Katsu?” I finally asked.
“Yes?”
“Do you ever wish your life could be different? Do you wish you could go back and make a different decision or chart a different course?”
He took my hand in his and kissed the top of it. I was too emotionally spent to feel surprised by the intimate gesture.
“I wish I could go back, yes. There are several choices I would change, and many loved ones I would treat differently, but as far as my destiny is concerned, that I wouldn’t change. I know my place, and I know who I am.”
Maybe that was part of my problem. I had no idea where my place was and no identity that resonated with me.
I leaned my head against his shoulder, too tired to care if it was inappropriate or not, but he pulled me in close and embraced me.
“I know this is difficult for you, Mikomi. You feel things deeply, and you wish to help everyone. You can’t bear suffering even in its smallest form. Your compassion does you credit and is one of the things I…I appreciate about you.”
I lifted my head to search his face.
“If you know these things, why do you put me in situations that can have no happy ending?”
“I do it to prepare you. I do it because I must, and it breaks my heart to see you struggle, but t
his is the process we must go through.”
He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and held my eyes with his.
“Perhaps that is enough training for one day,” he said.
I gave him a grateful smile, and he called the guards over to accompany me back to my rooms.
As far as he knew, this particular practice was over, but my real training with Musubi had barely begun.
* * *
I rushed into the ruins with Kenji a few yards behind. His hip had been bothering him, but he refused to allow me to heal him. He thought I needed to save my strength for whatever Akane might need me to do.
Stubborn man.
I heard a low whistle to my left and turned to see Akane kneeling on the grassy earth surrounded by several soldiers, all with varying injuries. The stench of blood hung thick in the air, and the combined pain of these soldiers overwhelmed my body and chilled my bones. I joined Akane and grasped her hand firmly.
“Which soldier’s wounds are the most critical?” I asked.
She looked haggard but gave me a relieved look. “Start with this one next to me. He was stabbed in the stomach and has lost quite a bit of blood. I’ll have the next one ready for you.”
I knelt down beside the bloodied, unconscious body of a boy not more than sixteen years of age. He reminded me of Saigo, and my chest went tight. I held his head between my hands and connected with him. His stab wound had cracked the sternum and punctured a lung. There was so much tissue damage and blood, I felt certain I would be unable to save him, but I began instructing his ki to knit his sternum together and repair the hole in his lung. Fortunately, the veil wasn’t present with this particular healing. The blood that had pooled within needed to be relocated to his circulatory system. I gave several instructions for tissue repair and then helped his body cope with the blood loss. His ki managed to reuse the blood from the internal bleeding, a process his body never would have accepted on its own.
I pulled away from him and noticed that he was breathing easier now, and his face had relaxed. Taking a deep breath, I readied myself for the next possible situation where the veil might come into play. Then I moved on to the next soldier.