by C. J. Anaya
He looked visibly shaken by the kisses we shared, as if everything he had previously planned for had been undone with this one momentous act. Clearing his throat, he spoke in hushed tones.
“After that exchange, I can’t imagine anyone assuming there is nothing between us.”
I nodded. “I would imagine any witnesses might come to the natural conclusion that we are in love.”
“In love,” he repeated. A wistful smile graced his lips. Then his countenance fell into sadness. “An emotion which has ruined more people than I will ever be capable of naming.”
His sadness alerted me to the pain he ached to reach for. I tightened my hold on him and forced him to look at me. “It is also an emotion that motivates people to help those who are suffering, share in one another’s burdens and selflessly give all they have just to put a smile on a lover’s face.” I had his full attention now. His hungry gaze desperately took me in, begging me to convince him that falling in love might be worth the risk. “I’ve seen a mother’s love heal the most debilitating of diseases, while a kind word of encouragement from a friend motivated a young man to turn from drinking to care for his little sister. If Daiki and Hatsumi had been unwilling to show love to a lost twelve-year-old version of myself I never would have lived to see my next birthday.” Musubi narrowed his eyebrows at my confession, concern for me coursing through him. “My point is this, no matter the pain that love is tethered to there are equal parts of joy and healing that can only work to motivate all of us to become better people. The right kind of love can soften the hardest of hearts, Musubi. I would hate for you to miss out on such a glorious experience.”
“What if I’m never destined to have such an experience?” The pain gripping him was gaining momentum.
“Everyone is meant to have it,” I said, desperate for him to understand. I thought of Katsu’s claim that each one of us was meant to experience everything.
His look turned bitter and cynical. “Not everyone, Mikomi. Not me.”
“Why would you say that? Why would you ever believe that?”
He rubbed his hands along the length of my shoulders and then set me away from him. “I had my one chance at love long ago, and now she’s gone.”
“You have another opportunity—”
“I don’t want one. There’s too many wrongs that must be made right.”
I swallowed down the hurt I felt, willing my tears to the foreground before I began begging Musubi to simply trust what he felt and give the possibility of us a chance. “If you waste your time righting wrongs of the past you might miss any chance you have to experience love at all.”
He shook his head, anger returning to dominate his thoughts and dictate his behavior. I lost him to that pervasive emotion all too often.
“What is it you want from me, Mikomi?”
“I want you to be honest with yourself and with your feelings. I want you to admit that there is something between us worth pursuing.”
His anger rose, but he worked to control it this time. “There is nothing between us, child. I feel nothing more than the need to protect you just as I desire to protect Akane. I am your teacher and you are my student. That is all.”
I cupped my hand against his cheek. “Why do you lie to yourself about the way you feel? What is it that keeps you from me?”
He jerked back and then ran his hands through his hair, turning his back to me. “I think we should suspend your training for a few days. The stress of the situation has caused us both to behave in ways we normally wouldn’t. I will let Akane know that you are preparing to leave. She will wish to accompany you as far as the ruins.”
“Musubi…”
He hurriedly moved away from me, and I tried to follow, but within a blink of an eye he disappeared, and I was left standing alone with only the faint moonlight for company.
The pain I experienced with his bitter denial of what we felt for one another destroyed me more than any beating my father had ever administered. So maybe this was the side of love that Musubi had been referring to. Strange that I was willing to suffer through such heartache, even if I never succeeded in winning him over.
* * *
I’d barely crept into my bedroom without anyone the wiser when I heard a knocking at my door. It was well past midnight. I couldn’t fathom what might be so important at this hour.
Yao and Chan were on the other side with grim looks painted across their features.
“Mistress, your father has sent several guards to escort you to his quarters.”
I looked at them in puzzlement. “At this hour? Why send so many when it only ever takes two?”
Yao gave me a meaningful look. “I heard that one of his men of high rank has been seriously injured and is in need of your services.”
I’d suspected my father might summon me soon, I just hadn’t expected it to happen tonight. I hadn’t had enough time to rest from my earlier healing or my emotionally draining interlude with Musubi. I had every intention of fulfilling my mission, but I didn’t know if I possessed the strength necessary at the moment.
Katsu wouldn’t condone such abuse to my power. Knowing the emperor, he must have found a way to work around my betrothed.
I glanced past Yao and Chan. Awaiting just outside the door were a handful of soldiers. I didn’t generally talk to any of them let alone make eye contact, but their numbers alarmed me.
“Surely it is not necessary for so many guards to escort me to my father’s quarters,” I said to the one in front, who looked as if he might be in charge.
His eyes widened momentarily at my breach of etiquette. “You will follow us, Princess.”
I stepped forward and was accosted on either side by a stoic looking guard. I felt Yao and Chan’s worried eyes upon me. None of my father’s men touched me, but I could almost feel their hands pushing me forward as we began the long journey through the different palace halls to my father’’s area of business. Upon entering, the doors were shut closed behind me, and an awful caged feeling threatened my composure.
My father stood next to a long window adorned with gold, silk curtains. The faint moonlight streaming through the window might have made him look angelic if I hadn’t had so many years of experience negating that impression. I waited. Any comments or questions I posed would not be well received.
After a few moments he spoke, continuing to face the open window as he did so. “Being a woman, I doubt you can grasp, nay, appreciate the amount of resources it takes to wage a war against an entire empire that is poised to turn on you in an instant.” He swiveled around to face me, eyes flashing and a ghastly smile adorning his wicked features.
I remained silent. I did nothing to defend myself as a woman, and I chose to ignore the impulse to tell him his subjects wouldn’t be so keen to overthrow the empire if he had had the decency to take care of them in the first place. A mess of his own making, but he would never see it that way.
“Resources,” he continued, “vital to my eventual victory are at this very moment being transported by ship across the sea to a specific location, and only one man in my entire army knows those specifics.” He pointed a finger toward a door on the right side of his study. “My first in command lies dying in that room next to us, and due to his unconscious state, he is unable to share those specifics with his emperor before his death. There is only one person capable of gathering this information, information critical to the survival of my armies and this empire, and yet your betrothed has forbidden the abuse of your powers in this manner.” My father tsked lightly under his breath.
I shifted almost imperceptibly under his watchful glare, not wishing to draw more attention to myself than absolutely necessary. I did not like the evil look he gave me, nor the steely resolve in his eyes.
“Quite the conundrum, I say. The one soldier I am counting on to keep this empire afloat will die and his information along with him if the one person capable of retrieving that information refuses to do so.” He tapped a finger to his chin and took a few st
eps forward. “Now, I’m fully aware that ordering you to go against the word of your precious future husband puts you in an uncomfortable situation, and any...physical maltreatment to convince you otherwise will earn me a fight I’m simply not ready for, but I think you’ll do exactly as I’ve asked with the right kind of motivation.”
I swallowed hard. “Where is Katsu?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s arrived by now. He’ll simply have to fight his way through several hundred guards in order to get to you, but by then I’m sure you will have acquiesced to my wishes.”
Katsu, by his very nature, was practically invincible, but I didn’t like the victorious look on my father’s face, as if he’d already won some power struggle I’d yet to uncover. I felt real fear for the warrior god. I had to swiftly diffuse this situation.
“This is all unnecessary. I will gather the intelligence without the need for threats or, as you put it, the right kind of motivation.”
I heard shouting through the doors. The warrior god had discovered my whereabouts. Under other circumstances I might have felt relief, but I had my own reasons for wanting the information the unconscious soldier in the other room had to offer. I couldn’t afford to let Katsu gain entry before I recovered the delivery location for Akane and Musubi. I was also extremely puzzled by my father’’s behavior. Even a few hundred guards wouldn’t keep Katsu occupied for long. It was hardly a smart move to make, nor a certainty that it would buy me the time needed.
I took a step toward the side door, but before I could move any further a tremendous battering noise echoed through the room, and the double doors of my father’s study fairly exploded, revealing Katsu standing between what was left of the shattered doors. He breathed heavily, and there was fire in his eyes, but there didn’t appear to be a scratch on him.
I never should have doubted his safety. A kami such as Katsu wasn’t to be trifled with.
“You have been warned about this, Fukurokuju. Mikomi’s powers are not to be used in such an abominable manner. She is not a spy, nor is she a member of your army.”
My father’s calm exterior never wavered, even in the face of Katsu’s open hostility. “Why, Katsu, I believe it is for The Healer to decide how her powers should and shouldn’t be used.”
Since when?
I raised my eyebrows and then ducked my head before my father noticed.
Katsu held his hand out. “Mikomi, we are leaving, and you are never to return to this area of the palace again.”
I held my position, fearing my father had more up his sleeve. He wasn’t going to allow that information to slip from his grasp so easily.
“Of course, if Mikomi wishes to leave she is more than welcome to.” I turned to look at my father, noting his air of superiority. He clearly thought he had the upper hand in all of this, which meant he most likely did. I waited for the other shoe to drop and when it did I cursed myself for my reckless stupidity. My father pointed to the closed door from where his first in command lay unconscious, fighting for his life. After making a shrill whistling noise the door burst open and a guard pulled a man and woman into the room, forcing them to their knees.
“Hatsumi! Daiki!” I rushed to them, but the guard pulled a knife from his side and held it to Hatsumi’s neck. She screamed in pain as the sharp blade nicked the side of her neck. Daiki struggled to fight, but his hands were tied behind his back and another guard came forward to subdue him.
I was unfamiliar with the kind of rage that leaves an acidic taste in your mouth. I hardly knew how to cope under its influence and glared at my father instead, fighting my suicidal desire to attack him and gouge his eyes out with my own fingernails.
I schooled my expression and leveled my voice. “I told you all of this was unnecessary. I will help you retrieve the information you desire. You don’t need to hurt these people.”
My father’s smile took on a wicked glint. “Isn’t it interesting that she should care about these peasants? Though I think a more relevant question to pose is how she knew the prisoners’ names in the first place. Perhaps you’d like her to explain herself.” My father turned his innocently expectant look upon Katsu.
“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 earlier this evening 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 c
ombat 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 time frame 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 was’’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.”