Traitor's Hope

by Virginia McClain

She’d sensed him approaching, but hadn’t bothered to turn, even when he’d reached the top of the small steps that allowed them to see clearly above the wall.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” she asked, her eyes still locked on the road leading away from the town.

  “Strong words, coming from someone Taka-san lectured this morning about not overtaxing herself.”

  Mishi let a small smile reach her lips. It was true. Taka had reminded her sternly, that very morning, that she was to do as little as possible beyond eating and sleeping, so that she would be fully rested for the journey to unite Mizu and Tsuchi with the Zokames. Mishi had pushed her kisō almost to the breaking point too many times over the past few tendays.

  “I’ve only come to look at the view,” she said. “And I’m not the one who almost died yesterday.”

  Mitsu let out a harsh laugh.

  “No. It’s been five whole days since the last time you almost died.”

  She turned to look at him then, something in the way his voice had faltered drawing her eyes to his face.

  She could read the emotions there easily enough, after their last conversation, and it finally sank in that Mitsu truly did fear the same things that she did. He feared caring for her, because he feared losing her, and he had experienced the threat of it as viscerally as she had yesterday. She took some comfort in knowing that his fears were her fears.

  “Would you ask me not to risk myself?” she asked, wondering, even as she asked it, what she hoped his answer would be.

  “Never,” Mitsu replied, without hesitation. “I have no right to ask it of you, and never would.”

  In hearing his reply, Mishi knew that it was the right one. She wouldn’t ask Mitsu not to risk himself, either. She only hoped that he would recognize that the people who cared about him would be devastated if any harm came to him, and count that in the way he weighed whatever risks he faced.

  When she said as much aloud, Mitsu nodded.

  “That sounds reasonable to me.”

  She wondered then if this was what it was like, to care about someone and decide to become a part of their life, to allow them to become a part of yours. Was one always establishing what rights one had to the other person? Did one ever really have rights to the other person at all?

  “I don’t know how to do any of this,” she said, before her brain could stop her mouth.

  “Do what?” Mitsu asked.

  “Be whatever it is we’re becoming,” she said, her eyes focused on the woods that spread out from the town. “I don’t want marriage, and I can’t see myself ever having children, and…I don’t know how long any of this will last. What if you stop caring for me someday? What if I stop caring for you?”

  “Are those reasons not to care for me now?” Mitsu asked, his voice quiet behind her.

  “No, they’re just concerns. I want to be honest with you. I don’t want you to expect anything from me that I can’t give.”

  “Would it make you feel better to know that I have the same concerns? I don’t know how to do any of this either. I’ve never pictured myself with children, nor have I pictured myself living in a house in a village. I like the woods, and I like to wander. Would you be willing to wander with me?”

  Mishi laughed, then.

  “And what have I been doing, the past few moons?”

  “Good point.”

  Mitsu’s smile was wide.

  “I do want to resume the mission that I first set out to accomplish after the battle of Rōjū City, though. I want to seek out female Kisōshi and help them find the training they need. Would you consent to traveling roads, instead of forest trails, and occasionally sleeping under a roof, instead of the stars?”

  “And what have I been doing the past few moons?”

  For a moment Mishi’s smile echoed his, and then it faded.

  “We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” she said. “We still don’t know what the New Council will ask of us next, and before that we need to see Mizu-chan and Tsuchi-kun safely to the Zōkames.”

  “True,” Mitsu said, but his smile hadn’t faded. “But we can do all of that together, should you wish it.”

  Mishi met his eyes, which were tinged with a hope that would have hurt her heart, if she had felt inclined to give a different answer than the one she had ready.

  “It seems to me that I’ve no more excuses for turning you away,” she said, letting a glimmer of mischief show in her eyes. “And Taka probably wouldn’t forgive me if I told her we had to leave you behind.”

  “You’ll take pity on me, then?” he asked.

  “Never,” she replied, smiling.

  He didn’t say anything in response, but slowly leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers, asking silently for a permission that Mishi granted by closing her own eyes, and leaning toward him. Mitsu’s lips slowly closed on hers, and she felt a delicious warmth spread through her. She pressed more closely against him, his arms enfolding her, even as she reached her hands up his back, pulling him closer.

  A low whistle from behind made them pull apart abruptly. Mishi turned, her cheeks flushing red against her will. They’d been doing nothing wrong, but somehow the knowledge that someone had been watching them made her face warm unpleasantly. She glowered at the source of the sound, surprised to find that it came from Inari-san.

  “Pardon the interruption, Ryūko-san,” he said, while climbing the stairs from the street, as though he hadn’t just wolf-whistled them and was only disturbing a friendly chat. “I’ve been asked to ascertain how much longer you intend to stay with us in Shikazenji.”

  He smiled politely, as he reached the top of the staircase and stood expectantly beneath them.

  “And who is sending the highest ranked Kisōshi in Shikazenji off on such menial errands?” Mishi asked, trying to banish the hostility she felt toward the man for interrupting her conversation with Mitsu.

  Inari-san smiled genially, and Mishi wondered if it was only his training as a hishi that enabled him to dissemble so well, or if he came to it naturally.

  “My wife, I’m afraid. She has asked me to invite you to join us for the evening meal tonight, if you will be staying with us for a while longer yet.”

  Mishi did her best to rein in her surprise at discovering that Inari-san was married. She had assumed, perhaps because she had first met him in the role of a spy and assassin, that he would be unattached. Yet, she found that the idea of a wife went well with the persona that Inari-san seemed to have cultivated here in the town, where he was a respected Kisōshi. She shook her head, as if the action might reconcile the two distinctly different impressions she had of the man.

  “We were planning on staying one more night, at the least, while we recover from our injuries,” Mishi said. “We would like to be as hale as possible for our travels.”

  Inari nodded, smiling again, to all appearances the generous host.

  “Well, then, my wife and I would welcome you at our home this evening if it is convenient, along with Taka-san, Kusuko-san, and the two children, should they be available to join you.”

  Mishi only nodded, not sure what to make of the invitation, but luckily Mitsu had his wits about him enough to make a coherent response.

  “We’re honored by the invitation, and look forward to joining you and your wife over a meal. I’m sure that Kusuko-san, Taka-san, and the children will be delighted to join us as well.”

  Inari-san seemed pleased with that answer, and he bowed respectfully before taking his leave.

  “You’re not used to formal invitations, are you?” Mitsu asked, when she turned to him once more.

  Mishi sighed, chuckling lightly.

  “I was trained with the notion that I would be a servant my whole life, as far as anyone else knew. I didn’t need to answer formal invitations, only pass them from one person to another. And…I admit that if Kuma-sensei and Tenshi-san tried to teach me any of the more formal rules of society, I may have been running through sword drills in my hea
d instead of paying proper attention.”

  Mitsu nodded.

  “I had to convey messages by ear and mouth only, so I had to memorize all kinds of formal wording.”

  “Useful,” Mishi admitted, staring him up and down. “I suppose I should keep you around.”

  Mitsu’s eyes lit with…something…at that thought, and Mishi tried to fight the heat that rose within her in response.

  “I suppose we should go and tell the others about our evening meal plans,” Mishi suggested, as she turned to walk down the steps that would take her to the street below. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mitsu’s hand shoot out beside her. He didn’t touch her, only held it there, waiting.

  She looked up into his eyes, seeing a simple request.

  “For balance?” she asked.

  He nodded, and she took his hand in hers.

  1st Day, 4th Moon, Cycle 1 of the New Council

  MISHI TOOK A deep breath scented with tatami and the distant smell of cooking rice, and worked to repress the memories that had been trying to flood her ever since her return to Rōjū City. Then she folded herself down before the slightly raised dais at the end of the receiving room, taking a brief moment to appreciate the mountain scenery that decorated the screens on the far wall, and touched her forehead to the floor.

  “That’s too much deference for someone of kitsune rank to show to a tora-dan,” Zōkame-san’s voice rumbled. Mishi sat up, looked him in the eyes, and rolled hers.

  “If I’m not behaving as a proper kitsune-dan, it might be because someone promoted me beyond my experience.”

  Zōkame laughed, then.

  “There now, that’s better.”

  Mishi smiled, wondering what had made her respond in such a way to Zōkame Yasuhiko. By all rights, she should be much more respectful to him, but there was something in him that reminded her of Kuma-sensei, and Kuma-sensei had always appreciated it when she failed to defer to him on trivial matters.

  She was glad to see that Yasuhiko did as well, though the whole exchange created a pang of longing in her, as it brought fond memories of Kuma-sensei to the forefront.

  Yasuhiko’s eyes lost some of their mischievous glimmer as he watched her, and she wondered how obvious her grief must be, for him to react so.

  “I miss him as well,” was all Zōkame-san said on the matter, but it was enough to know that the old Kisōshi had followed her line of thinking, and her unrestrained emotions, clearly enough.

  “I’m sorry, Zōkame-san, for bringing our thoughts to such a sad topic.”

  “Hmph, there is no need to apologize, Ryūko-san. Let alone so formally.”

  “You insist I’m being too formal, yet call me by my formal name?” she asked, feeling annoyed at being corrected again for being too formal, when, if anything, it was her impertinence that needed correction.

  “It is not your formal name. It is just your name. Your parents named you Ryūko, and I will not abandon their wishes simply because you were raised to the age of eight without knowing your true name. Kuma-sensei taught you your name cycles ago, and you should not be ashamed of it.”

  Mishi bowed her head slightly, in deference and agreement, unable to argue with Zōkame-san when the points he made were true. It was only that she didn’t feel like Ryūko was really her, she had always thought of herself as Mishi. She thought she might adjust to the name in time, but she hadn’t yet, eight cycles after learning it. Of course, it didn’t help that almost no one she knew addressed her as Ryūko, and never had.

  “I’m not ashamed of it,” she said, at length. “I’m just not used to it.”

  “And you will never become so, if you do not begin to use it.”

  Mishi only nodded. It was a valid point.

  “I’m glad to see you here so soon. We feared that our messengers would have missed you on your travels, and that you would go all the way to our estate before finding yourselves asked to turn around and join us here in the city.”

  “Luckily, since we were delayed a number of days in order to allow Mitsu to recover, they found us in Shikazenji before we had departed.”

  Mishi was unconvinced that it had truly been lucky, since she would have preferred to delay their arrival in Rōjū City even longer. It was a place that—for her, anyway—was crowded with ghosts.

  “Now then, Ryūko-san, your report please,” Yasuhiko-san asked, with a slight bow.

  Mishi sat up straighter, locking eyes with Yasuhiko-san.

  “Have you had anyone else’s report yet?” she asked.

  “The Kisōshi commanding the reinforcements that apprehended the sanzoku have reported to Tsuku-san, along with Kusuko-san, and some of my own spies. But don’t let that stop you from giving a full account of the events since you left us here. Tsuku-san is meeting with Taka-san as we speak, and I wish to know all the details of your journey, and everything leading up to the attack, not to mention the details of your defense of the town.”

  Mishi nodded, and began her account of the past moon’s worth of activity. She had a feeling that Zōkame was familiar with everything that she told him, until she reached the part about the babies who had been taken from their mother’s arms in Shikazenji.

  “How many children were being taken to the gates?” he asked, when she mentioned the baby girls for the first time.

  “Two,” she replied.

  “But you only brought one girl here with you.”

  “The two babies were too young to be taken from their mothers, Zōkame-san. The one I brought with us is one of the twins that Mitsu and I rescued from the first razed village we found.” She hadn’t yet mentioned that they believed the twins to be Kiko-san’s children. She thought it wasn’t her place to mention it, and was sure that Taka would cover that part in her report. “The two babies in Shikazenji stayed with their mothers, who promised to accompany them south to Ami-san’s school after the rainy season, once they were old enough to walk.”

  “I see. They did not wish to accompany you now?”

  “No. The mothers wished to prepare for the journey better. I offered to return and escort them, should they wish, but they insisted that they would not need it. I think I may return this way for them at the end of the rainy season, just in case. They seemed interested in the training, even if they were a bit shocked to learn that their daughters would be trained to fight as full Kisōshi.”

  Yasuhiko-san nodded, and thought for a moment.

  “And the two children you brought here?”

  “Twins. One girl and one boy. Both Kisōshi, both yukisō. Taka will be taking them to train as healers at the school where she has been asked to teach…” Mishi hesitated. She wasn’t sure what Yasuhiko would think of what she wanted to say next.

  “What aren’t you saying, Ryūko-san?”

  “Well, I’m reluctant to mention it, Yasuhiko-sama, as it isn’t my place, but…”

  “I value your input, Ryūko-san, as does Tsuku-san. Please, speak freely.”

  “It’s only that…the young girl, Mizu-chan. She’s a water kisō, but…she wishes to learn to fight. On a whim I began teaching her some of the forms, and she’s quite good…so, I began to wonder…why is it that only fire and wind kisō are trained as senkisō, while earth and water are trained as yukisō? Is there really an insurmountable difference, or is it only tradition? The forms are a bit harder with water and earth, but not impossible. If a child wishes to train as a senkisō instead of a yukisō, is it fair to force them to do the opposite?”

  Yasuhiko-san seemed to think about this for a long while, and he remained silent for so long that Mishi worried that she had somehow offended him, or broken some taboo she was unaware of. When he finally spoke, his face told her nothing.

  “Those are excellent questions, Ryūko-san, truly, though I’m afraid I don’t have answers to them right now. I think you may be the key to answering many of those questions yourself. It sounds as though you have an apt pupil on your hands, so perhaps you should see how far your instruct
ion takes her, and let us know the results. If all goes well with her, perhaps we can conclude that nothing but tradition separates yukisō from senkisō, and that there should be more choice in the paths open to any of us.”

  Mishi was so surprised by this answer that she couldn’t speak for a moment. When she finally found her voice again, she stumbled over her words.

  “I…hadn’t planned to teach anyone to fight, Yasuhiko-sama. I had intended to take up Tenshi-san’s task of finding young girls, or babies, in need of training and directing them to where they need to be.”

  “I see,” Yasuhiko-san said. “Very well. I suppose we can ask someone else to take up the role of instructor for the child. Let me know if you change your mind. In the meantime, please bring the children to join us for the evening meal tonight; I would be interested to meet them, based on all that you’ve told me about them so far.”

  Mishi nodded. She thought the children would be happy to join them for the evening meal. Though they had been quite reticent at first, it seemed that with each female Kisōshi they met, the more they were willing to spend time with adults and speak in public.

  “Continue, please,” Zōkame-san said.

  Mishi went on with a detailed description of how the battle had unfolded once she had convinced the townspeople to fight rather than hand over the young girls to the sanzoku. She took a deep breath, then described how the arrow had nearly killed Mitsu. She noticed that Zōkame-san paled visibly upon hearing the incident described in detail. She assumed that his other reports must have lacked the detail that hers possessed on this particular topic.

  Eventually she described their tenday long journey here, to the city. After that, Mishi was unsure of what else Yasuhiko might wish to hear from her, though he continued to look at her expectantly.

  “You say that you plan to take up Tenshi-san’s mission after this, but I wonder if that will be enough.”

  “Enough?”

  “Will that fulfill you, now?”

  Mishi simply stared at Yasuhiko-san. She had wanted nothing more than that only a moon ago. She wanted to be left in peace, to find young girls with senkisō and send them to Ami and Katagi so that they could be trained. She hadn’t wanted to ever have to draw her blade in violence again, or to use her kisō to hurt another.