Traitor's Hope

by Virginia McClain

  “Kill them,” her father said, without consulting anyone else. “They aren’t worth the trouble they might cause.”

  The Rōjū didn’t object, so Kusuko turned on her heel, in order to approach Mitsu and Mishi. She tried to avoid Taka’s gaze, but the young healer’s eyes were so wide, and her gaze so insistent, that Kusuko couldn’t help but meet her glance, if only for a second. The panic written across Taka’s face made Kusuko’s heart stumble, but she did everything she could to keep her face a mask of disinterest. She couldn’t let anyone see her concern, she couldn’t. If her father—

  “On second thought,” she heard her father say, and her stomach turned to ice inside her, even before she could turn to look at him once more. “Let them remain to take the children to safety.”

  Kusuko turned at the small gasp that came from Taka’s mouth. She could see the relief spread across her face, but Kusuko’s heart was hammering wildly in her chest. She turned to lock eyes with her father’s, just as he opened his mouth to speak once more.

  “There are two of them, after all. Which means that we hardly need this healer.”

  Kusuko moved before she could think. She moved before she saw her father’s hand twitch. She moved before the light had a chance to glint off of the oil coated shuriken that left her father’s hand, once she’d already made her leap. She moved with the lightning reflexes she had honed for cycles, and she worried that it was still too late. She barely felt the blade impact her chest, but she smiled, even as she collapsed on the floor in front of Taka-san.

  She could hear the room dissolve into chaos around her. Part of her mind even registered that Mishi and Mitsu seemed to be stirring from the feigned sleep they’d assumed before letting her truss them up and throw them into the barn. She ignored all of it. Taka’s eyes appeared before her face, and the concern that shone from them was almost enough to take away the excruciating pain.

  “Which poison is it?” she heard Taka ask, though her voice sounded distant.

  “Henbane,” Kusuko said, her voice a harsh whisper. She couldn’t be certain, really, but that was the poison her father favored, and, judging by how painful the wound was, it seemed likely.

  She saw Taka nod, then felt the healer’s hand against her neck. Along with the kisō that she knew was flooding into her from Taka, Kusuko could feel warmth radiating out from the young woman’s hand. She wondered if that was a side effect of Taka’s healing, or if she was simply feeling the tingle that had always come from touching Taka, even through the pain of the poison. She watched Taka’s determined face, trying to ignore the blackness that crept in around the sides of her vision.

  “Beautiful,” she murmured, as her vision continued to darken, against her will. She saw Taka turn and smile at her briefly, with tears streaming down her face, and the sight filled her chest with warmth, even though she didn’t like the tears or what they probably signified. Her eyes slipped closed, then, and she thought that maybe the warmth in her chest had actually come from the poison, but before she could decide which it truly was, the blackness claimed her.

  Mishi still couldn’t quite believe what she’d seen. Not only had Mamushi-san been willing to kill Taka, seemingly for no reason other than his own whim, but Kusuko, somehow anticipating the move, had flung herself in front of a poisoned shuriken to stop it from happening. Both actions mystified her, for entirely different reasons, but she didn’t take the time to contemplate either one. Instead, cycles of training took over, and she pressed the advantage of the shocked silence that initially followed Kusuko’s sacrifice by charging Mamushi-san before he could loose any more shuriken.

  Speed was of the essence, and while Mishi wasn’t fond of attacking opponents who weren’t already attacking her, she and Mitsu were in an enclosed space, and greatly outnumbered, not just by soldiers, but by hishi. She needed whatever advantage she could get.

  So she struck quickly, before Mamushi-san could gather himself for another attack. She winced, slightly, as she struck a shallow cut across his chest. The man still had his eyes locked on Kusuko, with an odd look of shock etched across his face. She moved away before he had time to register the blow, and hoped that the oil on her sword would do its job quickly.

  Without waiting for him to react, she turned to the former Rōjū standing behind Mamushi-san, and saw that these men, at least, had drawn their swords. She’d fought them both before, and recalled that the taller one was an indifferent swordsman, while the shorter of the two was a worthy opponent. Luckily, Mitsu had already engaged the taller man with his dagger, which left Mishi facing a single opponent. Not that she expected that to last very long—the room was crawling with hishi, as were the woods outside, and Mishi wondered how long it would take before those men overwhelmed them. She had to hope that Tsuku and Yasuhiko could hold their own against the hishi who held them.

  Mishi had just succeeded at breaking the skin on her opponent’s forearm, a success that would hopefully lead to his losing consciousness soon, when a shrill whistle caught her attention. She didn’t break her focus on her opponent, but she noted that Mitsu’s opponent had already collapsed to the floor of the barn. She tensed, expanding her senses, expecting a pile of hishi to mob her at any moment.

  Instead, she was shocked to find her senses telling her that the hishi surrounding the barn were moving away. Her peripheral vision confirmed that the hishi next to the door were already making their way outside. The hishi closest to her were in the act of picking up Mamushi-san’s unconscious form, and that made even the Rōjū that she was battling pause in his swordplay.

  Mishi didn’t lower her guard, but she didn’t attack, either. The man was already swaying on his feet, and she thought it likely that he would soon lose consciousness.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” he asked, even as his legs buckled.

  One hishi, who had just checked Mamushi-san’s pulse, and then loaded him into another hishi’s arms, stepped forward.

  “There has been enough death here today. I do not think that Mamushi-san will find himself attracted to your cause any longer. It is clear that you are on the wrong side of history.”

  Mishi was tempted to step forward and pull the dark grey mask from the man who stood before her, since she was fairly certain she recognized the voice, but she resisted the impulse.

  “You’ll pay for this betrayal,” slurred the Rōjū that she had been fighting, even as he toppled sideways to the floor.

  “I very much doubt that,” replied the hishi.

  Then the man shocked her even further. After sending all the remaining hishi, including the one carrying the prone form of Mamushi-san, out of the barn, he knelt beside Kusuko and Taka, removing his hood. Mishi was unsurprised to find that Inari-san was the man beneath it.

  “Does she live?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  Taka nodded, but did not speak, and Mishi wondered how much longer that would hold true; Kusuko’s form was quite still, her breathing so shallow that Mishi could barely make out the rise and fall of her chest from where she stood.

  “Can you keep her alive?” he asked.

  Taka didn’t reply, but continued with whatever work she was doing.

  “Inari-san, it may be best to leave her to her work,” Mishi said, as kindly as she could. She was surprised to see that Inari seemed to hold some affection for Kusuko, though the evidence was clear enough on his face.

  Inari nodded, and stood.

  “I know that you’ve no reason to trust me, but I’d like to stay with you for as long as…” his voice trailed away as he looked at Kusuko once more. “I’d like to stay with Kusuko.”

  Mishi certainly didn’t trust the man, but he’d just had ample opportunity to kill them all, and had chosen not to, so she didn’t think it likely that this was a ploy to attack them singlehandedly. She nodded, then looked down at the two Rōjū collapsed at her feet.

  “We’ll have to tie them,” she said to Mitsu, who had come to stand beside her. He no
dded, making his way to Tsuku and Yasuhiko, who, though abandoned by the hishi who had been holding them, still had their arms bound with rope.

  Mishi took another long look at Taka and Kusuko. With her heart hurting for her friend’s pain, and Kusuko’s sacrifice, she turned to do what little she could to help.

  12th Day, 4th Moon, Cycle 1 of the New Council

  KUSUKO BLINKED HEAVILY, wondering why her limbs felt as though they were filled with lead, instead of blood. Opening her eyes seemed like the most difficult task she had ever accomplished and, while her mind wished to raise her head once her eyes had regained their focus, her body suggested that it would be a very bad idea indeed to do anything of the sort.

  She tried flexing her fingertips, instead.

  Her fingers took so long to react that she worried, briefly, that she was paralyzed, and when they finally moved, it was but a twitch. She tried the same with her toes, and found the response similarly delayed and weak.

  She tried to remember what had happened to her that might have caused this state, but a voice distracted her before she could get her mind to focus on the memories.

  “Kusuko-san?” the voice asked.

  Kusuko tried to reply, but a soft moan was all that came out. Damn it all, even her throat wouldn’t move faster than a tortoise crawling uphill.

  Suddenly, the white ceiling that she had been looking at was replaced by a more welcome sight. Her physical reactions might be slow, but her brain recognized Taka’s deep brown eyes in a single heartbeat. She felt the corners of her mouth rise in a smile, and vaguely wondered why those muscles had been so much quicker to respond than all the others.

  “Taka,” she managed to croak, after a moment of trying.

  Taka smiled, her eyes shining brightly, and Kusuko wondered if she was crying, or if her eyes always shone like that. She couldn’t quite remember.

  “You had us very worried, Hifu-chan.”

  That was not Taka. That was another voice, and Kusuko wondered why on earth Inari-san was there with Taka.

  Taka’s face disappeared from Kusuko’s limited line of sight for a moment, and then returned.

  “You will be very tired for a long time, days and days yet, maybe a few tendays, maybe a moon, it’s difficult to say. And it will take…time and effort to finish your healing. Please continue resting. I’ll go get you some food, and leave you here with Inari-san for now.”

  Kusuko couldn’t find her voice in time to object to Taka leaving before her face disappeared from view, and she heard a shoji slide open and closed somewhere close by. She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to Inari-san, while she knew for certain that she wished to spend more time with Taka.

  “Why are you here?” she managed to croak, knowing that Inari remained close by, even though she couldn’t see him.

  The man’s face appeared in her view, shortly after she asked the question.

  “I couldn’t bear the thought of your father killing you, even if by accident, and I wished to stay by your side until I was certain that you would recover. Besides, I thought you would like to know how everything played out.”

  It came back to her, then, all at once. Mamushi throwing the shuriken at Taka, and Kusuko just barely getting herself in front of it. She couldn’t raise her arms to feel for a mark in her chest, but she was certain that she would find one if she could. What she didn’t understand was how she had possibly survived. Mamushi favored only the most deadly poisons for his blades, and a poisoned wound to the chest should have made for a very quick death.

  “How am I alive?” she asked, when she could force her throat to form the words.

  Inari-san’s face was deadly serious above her.

  “I think the only credible explanation is that Gensokai’s greatest healer happened to be immediately by your side, in the moment that you were injured. She also seemed particularly…invested in your survival. It was remarkable to witness, really, though I was sure that I was staying only to be able to collect your remains to return to your father. I have to say, I have never been so thankful to be wrong in my entire life. You owe that young woman everything, and no mistake.”

  Kusuko only nodded, or tried to. She thought she might have managed to get her chin to dip slightly, but she couldn’t be sure.

  “Will I be able to move soon?” she whispered.

  Inari shook his head, as he spoke. “That is a question best directed at your healer. Judging by the fact that you can move your fingers and toes, I would say it's possible. In truth, I don’t know if even Taka knows how much you’ll recover.”

  Kusuko tried to nod again, and this time she thought she had a fraction more success at getting her chin to duck toward her toes.

  She wanted to ask more questions: Why had Inari stayed with her? What had happened to her father? Why had Taka worked so hard to save her? But she couldn’t find the energy to form the words, and her eyes were beginning to drift closed once more, against her will.

  “Rest, Hifu-chan. You have earned it.”

  Kusuko didn’t particularly wish to follow that command, but she found she had little choice. Sleep began to claim her, though she was vaguely aware of the sounds in the room around her. She thought she heard the shoji open and close once more, then she smelled broth, and felt Taka kneeling beside her.

  “You should rest too, Taka-sama, you’re barely in better condition than she is.”

  “You shouldn’t call me Taka-sama. I by no means outrank you, let alone by so much that I would earn that honorific.”

  “Anyone who can do what you did, to save Kusuko-san, is worthy of that honorific.”

  “Hmph…well, in that case, you can’t tell me what to do and use that honorific in the same breath. Either I am above your ability to coddle, or you should strike the -sama from my name.”

  “Ha! Well played, Taka-sama. I retract my suggestion that you rest. As the most talented healer in the realm, and probably far beyond, I defer to your expertise in this matter.”

  Kusuko couldn’t hear Taka’s reply, but she doubted that it was a kind one. She was sure that Taka took much greater exception to being referred to as “sama” than to being coddled and told she should rest. She wanted to say as much, but she was long past having control over her voice, or even her eyes. She fell deeper into slumber, and the last thing she heard before sleep fully claimed her was Inari, saying, “I’m not sure where the hishi took Mamushi-san, but I will not be seeking him out anytime soon, unless it is to cut him down for what he did to Kusuko, and what he meant to do to you.”

  She could hear true anger in Inari’s voice, and she wondered why he was being so obvious with his emotions, or if it was simply a very good act. She had never heard the man express himself so directly. He was a master of subterfuge…

  Sleep took her, and dreams of her father fighting Inari with snakes and swords danced through her mind, while she lay cocooned in a shell of cool, protective water, watching the whole thing. Then she dreamt that Taka came to her, placing a hand on her face, the gentle touch spreading warmth through her, even as it covered her in a refreshing sensation like water from a fresh spring. After that, she did not dream.

  22nd Day, 4th Moon, Cycle 1 of the New Council

  TAKA SAT ACROSS from Tsuku-san, trying not to feel embarrassment at the state of her kimono. She really should forgo the pretense of wearing them, even when she was in civilization, since she could never keep the damnable things clean. She had only been wearing this one for a candle’s burn, but already the hem was covered in dirt and she’d just managed to drag her sleeve through her tea cup. Impressive, considering how small a target it made.

  “Are you getting enough sleep, Taka-san?” Tsuku-san asked, after carefully sipping her own tea and replacing the cup on the table, with all the grace of a young dancer. Taka tried not to let the older woman’s elegance, poise, and ability to keep her kimono immaculate make her feel self-conscious, but it was a struggle.

  “As much as I can. Kusuko-san still needs help
healing. Her body is fighting the long-term effects of the poison and I fear that, if I do not help her, she will never recover fully.”

  “It is a miracle that she will recover at all, Taka-san. Be sure not to treat yourself too unkindly, if she cannot be all that she was before.”

  Taka repressed a shudder. It had been a full tenday since Kusuko had first regained consciousness, and it had taken a full tenday of healing and sleep before Kusuko had woken that first time. She could now move her hands and feet, and raise her arms for short periods of time, but her body was still struggling to repair all the damage that the poison had done to her system. Her lungs and heart had suffered the most damage, but all of her muscles seemed to be struggling to regain their capacity to move, and Taka wondered if there was some damage to the connection between her mind and body.

  She sighed, as she thought about it.

  “I know. However, I’m confident that she can regain much of her movement, possibly all of it, with more help. It’s as though her body doesn’t wish to reconnect with her mind’s control. It’s something that she can’t do alone, but I can help her, and…”

  Tsuku raised an eyebrow at the hesitation in Taka’s speech.

  “Yes, Taka-chan?”

  “Tsuku-san, have you ever heard of a fire kisō doing healing work?”

  Tsuku’s eyebrows rose in a display of surprise, which Taka had rarely seen from her, and Taka waited for incredulous words to follow. Instead, the older woman was silent for a long time.

  “I haven’t…but that does not make it impossible,” Tsuku-san said, at length. “To my knowledge, no healers have found a way for fire to connect with the inner workings of the body…but, Taka-san, if you have an idea about how to do it, you should look into it. You certainly have a capable fire kisō to work with.”

  Taka nodded, surprised at the encouragement from Tsuku-san. She had been expecting the older and wiser woman to tell her that she was crazy to even suggest the idea, that there was a reason that all the fire Kisōshi were senkisō and not yukisō. Still unsure, she asked the thing that had been bothering her most since the idea first occurred to her.