Traitor's Hope

by Virginia McClain

  “If it is possible, why is it that trained healers are only ever water and earth kisō? Why not allow air and fire to train as yukisō as well?”

  Tsuku-san shrugged.

  “There is much that has been lost in the thousand cycles since the Yūwaku took power, and were then overthrown. Even so, not many scholars have done any research into the times before the Yūwaku, since the Rōjū discouraged anyone from looking too closely at a history that contained female Kisōshi who were equal in numbers and ability to their male counterparts. We’re lucky that they only locked that history away, rather than destroying it, although who knows how much was lost in the initial rebellion. Either way, I would say that you should not limit yourself by what others deem “impossible.” There is much we do not know about the healing arts anymore. And how much has been lost about Kisōshi in general? One of the committees that I’m attempting to establish within the New Council has the sole purpose of relearning our history, and spreading that information throughout Gensokai.”

  Something about Tsuku-san’s tone of voice made Taka meet the elder woman’s eyes at that point. Usually, when she looked at Tsuku-san, she saw only a graceful and well composed elderly woman, who always seemed to know what she was about. Now, for the first time, she got just the smallest hint of the Tsuku-san who was undertaking a huge effort, trying to restore an entire culture skewed and perverted by centuries of corruption and lies. She saw, although only for a moment, the weariness and weight in the woman’s eyes, face, and jaw.

  “What can I do to help?” Taka asked, without really thinking.

  Tsuku-san smiled then, and the weariness and weight were hidden once more.

  “Continue as you are. Work to learn as much as you can about healing, and the different ways it can be accomplished. Ask your tree-kami as many questions as you can think of, and search for your own answers as well. Go to the school where you’ve agreed to teach, and share your knowledge with as many others as possible. There is no better way to reverse what has been done to Gensokai than to educate its people.”

  Taka nodded, wondering if she would ever be content within the confines of a school again, even if that school was nothing like the Josankō that had scarred her so long ago.

  The truth was, she missed her cave in Yanagi’s woods, missed the simplicity of that life, and missed the ease with which she had been able to travel to and from that home to anywhere she liked. It made her sad to think that she would need to be away from Yanagi’s woods for so long. It was the only place she’d ever truly felt at home.

  “Do not mistake my words, Taka-san,” Tsuku said, as though she had been reading the thoughts from Taka’s face. “I do not mean to say that you should do nothing else, save work at that school. After all, how can one expect you to ask Yanagi-sama all the questions that you will surely have, if you spend all of your time away from him? I only ask that you spend some of your time sharing your knowledge with others. How and where you do that is entirely up to you. It seems like a school for healers would benefit from your knowledge, and would be eager to share it with others, but that does not mean that it is the only place you should spend your time. I imagine one could teach a small number of very exceptional students from just about anywhere in Gensokai…even a small cave in the woods…”

  Taka smiled then, though she was unsure if Tsuku-san was simply saying that to make her feel better, or if she truly meant it. Taka didn’t think there would be very many students who would want to learn from a hermit in a cave and her strange tree-spirit mentor…but Tsuku had said very special students, and Taka could think of a pair of yukisō who, while only five cycles old, might very much appreciate living in a place where no one would try to make them sleep in separate dormitories, or attend regular classes, but rather teach them through the experiences that the woods had to grant them, and allow them to take fighting lessons from a wandering female Kisōshi, every now and again, as well.

  “I should ask Yanagi-sensei what he would think of me bringing more humans into his woods.”

  Tsuku-san nodded. “That seems wise.”

  Mishi sat quietly, her face in the sun, a gentle breeze that smelled of cedar and far-off rain caressing her cheeks, her feet dangling from the deck above the garden, rubbing choji oil into the blade of her katana and listening to the almost inaudible sound of footsteps approaching.

  She said nothing as Mitsu lowered himself to sit beside her, his legs mimicking her own, dangling from the raised deck.

  “It’s nice to see you treating your sword well,” he said quietly.

  She hadn’t looked at him yet, but she thought that he was looking into the garden as he spoke, not inspecting her while she cleaned her blade. She appreciated that.

  “Tools must be well kept, and weapons are the most finicky tools of all.”

  Mishi knew why Mitsu was mentioning it. She had always kept her katana and wakizashi in impeccable condition…until she had decided that spending time with her swords was a danger to the people around her. They hadn’t sat unattended long enough to rust, but she had ignored them until she needed them to defend against the sanzoku, so this was the first time in many moons that she had cleaned them properly. Yet she knew it was her mindset that Mitsu was referring to, and not the availability of choji oil.

  “If the past few moons have shown me anything, it’s that it would be just as dangerous to the people I care about for me to wander around unarmed, as armed,” she said, her attention still focused on the task of rubbing the fragrant oil into the blade.

  Mitsu smiled, and she didn’t have to see his face to know that was what he was doing. An odd sensation, but one that she’d become accustomed to in the past few tendays.

  “Well, it’s nice that you’ve finally come around to recognizing that. I, for one, have been terrified of being killed in my bed by hishi for tendays now, and knowing you’re armed takes quite a bit of the stress away.”

  Mishi smirked.

  “And what makes you think I’d be able to do anything in time to protect you, even if I slept with a katana beneath my pillow?” she asked.

  “Well, I was rather hoping you might be lying next to me,” Mitsu said quietly.

  Mishi finally raised her eyes then, and when she met Mitsu’s gaze, what she saw there filled her stomach with a tingling heat that briefly made her wonder if she’d called fire to her skin. In the moon since they had defeated the sanzoku in Shikazenji, they had shared many kisses and spent much time together, but they hadn’t resumed their explorations of each other’s bodies for a number of reasons, only one of which was lack of privacy.

  “Oh?”

  There was mischief in his eyes, but longing too, and Mishi wondered if he could sense all the conflicting emotions that ran through her at the mere suggestion of sharing his bed.

  The mischief left Mitsu’s eyes, then, though the longing stayed, and Mishi’s breathing hitched as he spoke again.

  “I don’t…Mishi-san, you can say no…our friendship means so much more to me than anything else, but I can’t pretend that your kisses don’t set my body alight and…I often think of that one night in the woods. I don’t wish to hold any claim on you, Mishi-san, but consider it an invitation…one you can accept or reject, at any time you like.”

  Mishi thought about that for a long moment. Had fear of some claim kept her from Mitsu’s bed this long? No, Mitsu was just as prone to wandering as she seemed to have become, and she didn’t sense anything in him that seemed to wish to hold her against her will. But she knew that he loved her; he had made that clear enough. She thought that she might love him too. Or, at the very least, she would be devastated to lose him, and she thought that might be the same thing. And he said he felt as though her kisses set him on fire. Didn’t she feel the same way?

  “You know, there’s still a chance that I might accidentally kill you in my sleep…” she whispered, the heat suddenly leaving her body, as she realized the words might be true.

  “You still have th
e nightmares?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  Mitsu was silent for a long time, and Mishi was sure that he would reply with a retraction of his earlier invitation.

  “Well, one has to die somehow,” he said at length. “I can think of far less pleasant ways to die.”

  Mishi’s mouth dropped open, as she stared at him.

  “I meant with a sword, you fool.”

  The mischief was back in his eyes.

  “I know, Mishi-san, but perhaps if I’ve tired you out first, it’ll lessen the risk.”

  And just like that, the heat returned to her body, and the tingling spread from her abdomen.

  1st Day, 6th Moon, Cycle 1 of the New Council

  KUSUKO CLUNG TO the shadows like a warm cloak in winter, and made certain not to let even the tiniest hint of her kisō escape her. Luckily, her perch in the rafters of the chamber was comfortable enough that she could be confident that she was remaining completely silent. She ignored the smell of mold and dust that permeated the thatched roof above her, and instead kept her attention on the conversation taking place below.

  “You’ve taken much longer to report back to me than I had anticipated,” Mamushi said, his back straight as he sat with his legs folded beneath him and poured the tea.

  “It has taken me this long to decide whether or not I wished to kill you, brother.”

  Kusuko knew better than to allow any reaction to Inari-san’s words, but the shock still radiated through her, and surprise was even evident on Mamushi-san’s face.

  “And what did you decide?” Mamushi asked, his voice as flat as if he were inquiring as to the health of the other man’s horse.

  “If I wished you dead, I wouldn’t have come to speak with you first,” Inari replied.

  “Oh? I would have thought you would enjoy my knowing who had orchestrated my end.”

  “No, Mamushi-san. Even after all you’ve done, I would take no joy in taking your life, nor would I come to throw your mistakes in your face. If I ever choose to kill you, it will be because I’ve decided that you’re well beyond salvage, and if that’s the case, then it would do you no good at all to know the reasons for your death.”

  “And what are my mistakes, then, brother?”

  “You killed your own daughter, Mamushi-san. Is that not sufficient?”

  Mamushi-san’s face paled at that, and Kusuko knew then that, whatever trick Inari had insisted he could use to convince Mamushi of their lie, it had worked. Until that moment, Mamushi-san had believed her alive.

  “It cannot be,” he whispered.

  Inari snorted.

  “You saw the deed yourself, Mamushi-san, the shuriken embedded in her chest. Why you chose to attack the healer I will never understand, but Kusuko sacrificed everything to save that young woman, and you of all people know how well your own poisons work.”

  “But my spies…I’ve had word from the Zōkame estate that a young woman matching Kusuko’s description was being cared for.”

  “And did you not expect that the Zōkame family would go to great lengths to keep you from coming after their household, once more? What better way to protect themselves from harm than to pretend they were housing and healing your own daughter?”

  “But no one knows that she is my…”

  From where Kusuko was perched, she could clearly see the twist of Inari-san’s face that marked his incredulity.

  “You told them?” Mamushi asked, his voice disbelieving.

  “There was no further reason to hide the secret from them. With your daughter dead, what could it possibly matter if they knew?”

  Mamushi’s face greyed further, and Inari let out a long sigh.

  “It was anticipation of your reaction now that made me decide you did not deserve death, after all.”

  Mamushi’s eyebrows rose in puzzlement at that.

  “You knew what my reaction would be?”

  “I had hoped,” Inari clarified. “I didn’t like to think that you had killed your daughter without remorse.”

  “I still cannot…why? Why would she do something so foolish, Inari-san? I trained her better than that.”

  “Is it so foolish to try to save the ones we love, Mamushi-san?”

  Inari rose then, leaving his untouched tea cup on the low table before him.

  “I am sorry that you have lost your daughter, Mamushi-san…but I hope that you recognize that her death was not a waste. She sacrificed everything for love, and I do think there was once a time when that was something you would have understood.”

  Inari turned and left the room then, and Kusuko waited in silence for her father to follow, so that she could exit without being seen. The man sat in silence for half a candle burn, and Kusuko began to wonder if he would ever leave.

  “Did you think that I wouldn’t know?” Mamushi-san asked the empty room. “Did you really think that Inari-san could fool me, after all of those reports?”

  Kusuko’s breath caught, as she realized that Mamushi was addressing her. Knowing that the man could easily send a signal that would fill the room with hishi, and not wishing to fight against overwhelming odds, Kusuko dropped from her position, moving to stand before Mamushi-san.

  “He did fool you,” she said, though she was less sure now than she had been only moments ago. “I saw it in your eyes.”

  “He told the truth…” Mamushi said. “Which doesn’t make any sense, unless you claim to be a ghost.”

  Kusuko shrugged.

  “I may as well be…” Kusuko paused for a moment, thinking about what Inari had done. The truth of the words she had just spoken sank in for her then, and she knew why the lie had worked. “Your daughter is dead, Mamushi-san. It turns out she was just another hifu among many, shed in the moment that you tried to kill the woman I love. The me that still lives is less…and more, than your daughter ever was. The loyalty I owed you is gone, and the affection too. I…I will no longer answer to you, Mamushi-san. I am my own master from now on.”

  She straightened as she said it, certain that it was true, all of it. Even if Mamushi-san struck her down right now, even if he called in a whole room full of hishi to end her life, she was not now, and never again would be, his creature. She saw the moment when the truth registered in his mind, and waited for the inevitable fury that would follow.

  It didn’t come.

  “Then you should go, Kusuko-san,” he said, calmly.

  Kusuko worked to keep her expression neutral as she took in the look on his face, but his features were once more the mask they had always been. She nodded, still waiting for the blow to fall as she turned her back, but it never came.

  She walked to the door of the receiving room, slid it open, and stepped out into the hallway. One step at a time, she walked away from what she had once thought was the core of her being, and she almost laughed. She had always thought of herself as a snake, shedding its skin with each identity she left behind, and growing into a new one, but now…now she felt rather more like a phoenix. She had burned through everything within her, emerging as something entirely new and unexplored.

  She took a deep breath, and wondered if Taka would appreciate a visitor at her cave in the woods. Would she wish to see Kusuko at all? Would she ever be able to trust her? Kusuko didn’t know, but decided she would like to find out.

  5th Day, 6th Moon, Cycle 1 of the New Council

  MISHI HAD LEFT Mitsu in the woods outside the school, reluctantly, even though it had been her idea to do this on her own. She could hear the sounds of Kisōshi drilling, even from this side of the gate, and she waited for the sounds to conjure visions.

  She closed her eyes, anticipating the bile that would rise in her throat, the tightness that would clench her chest…but it didn’t come. Instead, her eyes pricked with tears, as images of Kuma-sensei shouting instructions at her and her sisters flooded her mind. She wiped at the corners of her eyes with her hands, and took a deep breath. Tears were all right, tears wouldn’t harm her or any of the people on
the other side of that fence.

  She pushed the gate open, and the sight that greeted her surprised her, even though she’d been listening to the drilling for some time before she entered. What surprised her was the fact that she was looking at young boys and girls, both training together. A smile came to her lips then, as she thought of how Kuma-sensei would have reacted to that.

  She was startled from the warm thoughts that filled her, though, when a shout caused all the children in front of her to stand at attention, with their arms behind them. She realized belatedly that she was, as usual, dressed in her uwagi and hakama, and wearing both of her swords. Of course, the training would stop for an unknown Kisōshi of rank.

  She bowed slightly to the group, and spoke with enough force to be heard over the twenty tiny heads arrayed before her.

  “Please, continue your training,” she said. “I did not mean to disturb.”

  “You heard Yamainu Ryūko-san. One hundred more side kicks on the right leg!”

  Mishi schooled her face into neutrality at the groans she heard from a few of the youngest children, but she couldn’t help but smile when Ami came around the crowd of students and wrapped her in a tight embrace.

  “Ami-chan,” she whispered, her throat suddenly tight with emotion.

  “It’s good to see you, Mishi-chan,” Ami said, her own voice sounding just as affected. “Come, let’s head to the kitchens. One hundred side-kicks should keep them busy for a while, and one of the senpai will take over when I don’t come back immediately.”

  “You have them so well trained, already?” Mishi asked.

  Ami nodded, pushing her back to arm’s length, presumably to get a better look at Mishi’s face.