Tengoku

by Rae D. Magdon

  “I could at least tell her my real name,” Kaede mumbled, but she knew that wasn’t true. Imari couldn’t find out about her past. If she did reveal her family name and the reason she had fled, Kaede was certain she would be disinvited from Imari’s quest, and even though she had her doubts about going, she needed to do something with her life. She couldn’t simply run from town to town, waiting for Hayate to catch up with her.

  This is the right thing, she told herself, even though she didn’t really believe it. For me and for her.

  ***

  Imari stood behind the byōbu at the library's entrance, keeping out of sight behind its edge. The painted screen was mostly blue, a moving landscape of ocean and sky, only a little faded from years of sunlight and handling. The color made it impossible to see his shadow, but judging by the stream of glowing golden lantern light shining from within the room, Imari could tell her father was still awake and hard at work—just as she had both hoped and feared he would be.

  The library was usually her domain, the place where she felt most at home, but for once, she didn't feel comfortable entering. Her father had always been her champion, but she feared asking for his support on this would only lead to disappointment. She lowered her eyes to her sandals, but her stubborn feet refused to budge. She felt like a coward.

  What are you so afraid of, Imari? That he'll say you're too weak to do this? That he'll resent you for abandoning your family duties? That he’ll think you're crazy? She could be crazy. Surely Takeshi and everyone else would think so once they found out about her plan…at least, almost everyone. Kaede hadn't seemed to think she was insane for wanting to go chasing a magical blacksmith.

  Imari straightened her shoulders. She had dreamed of this for years, and somewhere along the way, it had become more than regaining the hand she had lost. It was about proving herself—proving her own strength and resilience, proving that she would be a strong leader for Mirai, and proving her worth to all their neighbors.

  They might look down on her now—missing hand, too young, only four noble generations in her family—but they wouldn’t be able to once she got back. She would be a woman reborn: the leader with the dragon-forged hand, guiding Mirai into the future. She would be worthy of maintaining the legacy her great-grandfather, her grandfather, and her father had worked so hard to create for her. No one would dare to question her authority or her capability again.

  That gave Imari the push she needed. She slid the screen aside until the painted blue ocean disappeared and all that remained was the twisted trunk of the bonsai tree on the end. Even though it was only a painting, it possessed the illusion of movement, almost as if it reached out toward the waves and tried to grasp them. I won't be like that tree, stuck with my roots in the ground. I can go anywhere I want. I will go anywhere I want. I just hope father will understand.

  As she entered the library, Imari took comfort in the familiar surroundings. A little light filtered in through the open-square-frame of the window, but the beautiful rows of silk-bound books were still illuminated by the light of the evening lanterns. It even smelled the same, like paper and ink and dust mixed with the faint fragrance of the summer air drifting in from outside.

  "Imari?"

  She broke out of her haze. Her father, Seishirou, sat on a cushioned mat in the most comfortable corner of the room, one of the places she usually liked to occupy. Several scrolls were spread across the low bench beside him, and it looked as though he had been in the middle of sorting through them.

  Correspondence, Imari thought. Always correspondence. As much as she wanted to follow in her father's footsteps, there were some things about the job she wasn't looking forward to.

  “Good evening, Father,” she murmured, inclining her head respectfully. She held the pose for a beat longer than usual, probably out of guilt. Even though her mind was made up, seeing his face added a touch of sadness to the excitement of leaving.

  To her relief, Seishirou smiled when she rose. He seemed different sitting there in the dimmed light, less rigid and imposing than usual. There were only the two of them and Imari could see the softer, familiar side of her father he showed only to her. With her, he was always just Homura Seishirou, a father—rather than Lord Homura, the honorable daimyo, though the weight of responsibility never truly left his eyes.

  "Come here," he said, gesturing to one of the spare cushions beside him. She approached the bench and sat, taking the paper he passed over to her. "Read this for me and tell me what you think."

  Imari scanned the paper up and down, brow furrowing as she read. It was a trade agreement with the neighboring province of Furuyama, but judging by the details, it wasn't a fair offer. ‘They want reduced payments again? And instead of coin, the only offer is of rice shipments in exchange for our steel? What kind of price agreement is this?"

  "One that comes from a mind stuck in the old ways, when rice was everything," her father said. He took the paper back from her, placing it on the bench again. "To some of our neighbors, rice isn't merely food to fill hungry bellies. It's money and power."

  "So is steel and iron," Imari insisted with wounded dignity. "We're the most industrialized province in the kingdom. Where will they get their metal if not from our factories? And their textiles? Old women can't spin enough wild silk with their bare hands to meet the needs of an entire nation."

  "And this is why we must remind them,” her father said with a look of approval. “Homura might be a new province, but it provides for many people's needs. Rice can't make clothes and houses and weapons, and that contribution deserves to be recognized, too."

  "Two thirds of the previous price, and not a circle less," Imari said after a moment's thought. "Personally? I'd push for two and a half in addition to the rice to cover the rest before settling."

  Her father nodded, a subtle gesture of agreement that made Imari's face glow with pride. "That was my thinking as well. But why are you here so late? Not to talk about rice or trading with our neighbors, I assume."

  "Not to read either.” Imari felt her father's searching look, and she couldn't stall any longer. "I've told you about my research, my studies of the old legends."

  "About Kurogane, yes. Do you think you've found your mysterious blacksmith?"

  "Yes, a while ago—but more importantly, I think I've found someone who can take me to him. A ronin arrived in the city the other day, a woman by the name of Iori Kaede."

  Seishirou’s brows arched with interest, but he didn't interrupt, nodding for her to continue.

  "She dresses modestly, but I can tell from her movements and her manner of speech that she's spent time as part of a noble household,” Imari said, falling back on her memories. They were surprisingly easy to conjure, especially when she thought of Kaede’s face. “She's been trained as a samurai, and she also has a close connection with the yokai. A great white wolf spirit accompanies her wherever she goes."

  "A wolf spirit?” he asked, clearly intrigued. “That is unusual."

  "Unusual, and potentially useful," Imari said. "I haven’t left before now because I couldn't ensure my safety on the journey. Who better to protect me than a woman who can control the yokai?"

  Seishirou's look of interest shifted into one of concern. Imari could tell he was revisiting an old memory and she could guess which one without being told. "You know yokai are not meant to be controlled by humans, Imari. Some are friendly, but others are not, and most of them only look out for their own interests, just as humans do."

  "Fine, control was a bad word, but the rest of your statement isn't true. There are lots of yokai who help humans." She held up her left arm, letting the sleeve of her kimono slide down to reveal the stump of her wrist. "I would have died in that rockslide if it wasn't for the yokai. I never once resented them for cutting off my hand to get me out of the mine. They did it to save my life."

  "And you're willing to risk that life again, just to get your hand back?"

  Imari's first instinct was to be angry, but
as her father's words settled between them, she could tell he was genuinely asking. It was a serious question, and his tone didn't imply her choice was foolish. He was trying to get her to think, not giving her the answer outright but leading her to find it herself—just as he had during her childhood.

  "It's about more than my hand," she said, considering her words carefully. "It's about proving myself. It's about showing I can be a strong, capable leader, just like you are and grandfather was. The other nobles…"

  He shook his head, frowning once more. "The other nobles either respect you already or their opinions are worthless."

  "You don't understand." Imari reached for the trade agreement, brandishing it with her right hand. "This offer is basically an insult. People already think they can take advantage of you because I'm all you've got for an heir. I make you look weak. How do you think they're going to treat me when I become daimyo? I can tell you, it won't be with the respect I deserve."

  "There is more than one way to gain respect, Imari. You don't need to find a magical hand to earn it."

  "What if I told you I was doing it because I wanted to fight with two hands on my katana again? Or because it's really annoying trying to tie a knot or pour a glass of water without a second hand to steady the cup? What reason would make this quest seem worthwhile to you?"

  "You misunderstand me.” Her father’s eyes softened and he placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "I have no idea what missing a hand is like. Your reasons don't have to be good enough for me. They only have to be good enough for you. If you have made your decision, I will do everything I can to support you. Tell me, which route are you planning to take to Tsun’i?”

  “Through Hyewang,” Imari answered. Most travelers to Tsun’i chose to pass through the border city at the northern tip of the Jade Sea, since it was far away from the restless southern kingdom of Xiangsai.

  Seishirou frowned, shaking his head slightly. “I’m afraid you may need to consider other options. Hyewang has been in a state of unrest since their daimyo crossed the Roaring Ocean. The political situation there is tense, and several skirmishes have already broken out. I fear it will get worse before it gets better.”

  “What about Empress Tomoyo?” Imari asked. “If the situation is unstable, shouldn’t she do something?”

  “I expect she will, but you know how these things go: always far too slowly.”

  “I’ll look into different routes,” Imari agreed. “I don’t want to drag my friends into the middle of a dangerous political scuffle.”

  “Speaking of friends,” Seishirou continued, “I expect to meet this mysterious woman who will be guarding you before I give your journey my blessing."

  For several moments, Imari didn't know what to say. As always, her father had come through for her, and he hadn't once implied she was crazy or foolish for feeling the way she did. She leaned into his open arms, giving him the tightest hug she could manage. “Of course, I will, Otou-san. Thank you. I promise, I'm going to be smart about this."

  "I'm sure you will,” he said, running his hand up and down her back in a soothing gesture. "You always are. That’s why I’m proud of you.”

  Chapter Six

  KAEDE SLOWED HER PACE before heading up the steep castle steps, staring intently. She craned her neck in every direction, struggling to take everything in. She had grown up in beautiful surroundings herself, but Lord Homura's castle was something else entirely. The red roof shone like the peaks of a flame and the large bronze statues standing at the bottom of the stairs were incredibly detailed, almost lifelike. She could even see the texture of their armor.

  "Come on," Kenta called, waving for her to catch up. He was a few steps ahead, grinning at her from over his shoulder. "Shake the lead out of those feet, Iori-san. You don't wanna keep Lord Homura waiting, do you?"

  "Sorry," Kaede said as she stole one last glance at the impressive entryway. "And I've told you, Kaede is fine. I don't mind if you want to use my given name, since I'm staying in your house and all."

  Kenta's grin widened and he nodded. "All right, Kaede, but when my brother yells at me for being rude, it's your fault."

  Kaede hurried to join him, skirting around other people on the way up. The castle was breathtaking, but also crowded. Several strangers passed by, bustling about their daily business, but Kaede only attracted a few stares. Blending in was a lot easier without Rin by her side.

  Rin had elected to stay behind once more, much to Kenta's disappointment. The two of them had taken a strong liking to each other—a fact Kaede was grateful for, especially with Takeshi around, staring stone-faced at her over dinner and keeping suspicious eyes on her wherever she went. Rin and Kenta's companionable interactions made things much less awkward in the Hibana household.

  "How did you convince Hibana-danna to let you escort me to the castle, Kenta?" she asked as they arrived at the lavish front doors. They were framed by four sturdy columns, the same red as the rooftops and painted all around with winding bronze serpents. The door handles were stylized white lilies, and the guards pulled them open as she and Kenta approached. They were inside and out of earshot before she spoke again. "He barely lets me out of his sight except when I'm in my room, or Lady Homura makes him."

  "She would do that, wouldn't she?" Kenta attempted what Kaede suspected was a long-suffering look, but his chubby face and bright eyes made it difficult for her to take it seriously. "Anyway, I had nothing to do with it. Homura-dono must have insisted, because Takeshi looked pretty annoyed before we left."

  "Tell me about it. How can someone so good-looking seem so grumpy all the time?" Kaede asked. "What a waste of a handsome face."

  "Oh?" Kenta's eyes widened. "I like to think I got the best looks in the family, but if you want me to put in a good word with him."

  Heat flashed across Kaede's cheeks, and she shook her head as she realized her mistake. "No, that's not what I meant at all." She took a chance, deciding to reveal a little more of herself. Her romantic inclinations weren’t really any of Kenta’s business, but he seemed friendly enough, and living in a big city like Mirai, surely, he had encountered others who preferred their own gender. "I'm a lady of a different court."

  Kenta didn't seem surprised by the statement. "Then you'll fit right in here with us," he said, smirking. "I happen to be a member of your court too, and Homura-dono is a lady of both."

  That tidbit of information caught Kaede's attention. She blinked in surprise, flushing as she remembered the kata she and Imari had performed the day before, as well as their conversation on the garden bench. It had been a rather intimate thing for two strangers to do, now that she thought about it. Did I miss something? I've never been good at this. Was she flirting with me? If she was, this has the potential to get really awkward fast.

  Fortunately, Kenta didn't seem to notice her staring. "Don't worry, I won't tell Takeshi you said he was handsome. But truthfully, it might do him some good. He's been sulky ever since Imari called off their engagement."

  Kaede didn’t know how to respond to that shocking revelation. Instead, she studied her surroundings more closely. The inside of the castle was just as impressive as the outside. The walls and screens were painted with beautiful landscapes and the sunlight streaming in through the windows made the rooms glow. Still, Kaede couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable as she gazed around at all the finery. It reminded her too much of what she had left behind.

  "Are you ready for this?” Kenta said, stopping short in front of a tall shoji screen and nodding politely to another pair of armored guards. "Don't be too scared. Lord Homura's a kind, wise man. He takes after Imari."

  "I think you mean she takes after him, since he’s her father and all," Kaede joked, but it didn't help loosen the knots in her stomach. She wasn't afraid, not exactly, but she was nervous. If Lord Homura didn't approve of her presence here, or her new association with his daughter, she was in for a lot of trouble. "Sorry," she mumbled, aiming an apologetic glance at Ken
ta. She cleared her throat, brushing out the creases in her kimono. "I'm ready. I've visited noble houses before. I won't embarrass you."

  "I know you won't.” Kenta gave her a friendly nudge. "Go on in. I'll be waiting for you out here."

  After a gesture from one of the guards, Kaede stepped past the shoji screen and into the room. The first figure her eyes lit upon was Imari, even though she wasn't seated front and center. Her hair was done up in an ornate fan with a red comb perched on top. Her lips carried a subtle smile, and Kaede smiled back before she caught herself and averted her gaze.

  Somewhat embarrassed, she turned to Lord Homura. The daimyo sat on a low platform, legs crossed. He stared at her thoughtfully. He looked younger than Kaede expected, and his beard and mustache only had a few touches of grey at the edges. She studied him for as long as she dared while she moved to sit, surprising herself as she tried to search for similarities between his appearance and his daughter’s. Aside from the fine clothes and the same coloring, Imari and Lord Homura didn’t seem to have much in common.

  Behind the daimyo were the banners of the House, fluttering down toward the floor in long stripes. The design was familiar: a bronze hexagon seated in a field of red, bearing a white lily in the center. “My Lord,” Imari said, rising from her seat and giving her father a deep bow, “I apologize for interrupting your work, but an important matter has come to my attention.”

  Lord Homura’s eyes still fixed on Kaede. “So, I see. I assume your guest has something to do with this important matter?”

  Imari turned to Kaede, who hurried to make her own bow, trying not to scramble as she touched her forehead to the ground in the lowest posture. “Honorable Lord, thank you for allowing me entrance to your House and granting me an audience. My name is Iori Kaede.” She held her breath, waiting for a response. She had used her false surname before, but she still felt nervous about lying to a daimyo.