by C. J. Anaya
I prepared myself to slip past the cherry trees and begin an innocent stroll along the path—as if I’d been there all along—when I saw my maid, Aiko, come around a bend in the garden, followed by a man I recognized.
I wished with all my heart I hadn’t!
The last time I’d laid eyes upon the seasoned soldier was through the memories of my father’s generals. This man was responsible for dispersing kami blood amongst the emperor’s highest ranking officials. He, along with my father, experimented with my father’s blood, eager to bond it to their men and create a kami army.
I couldn’t believe my poor Aiko had succumbed to the charms of this horrible individual, but I was definitely going to put a stop to it before he broke her heart any further than the news of his betrayal was certain to. I almost placed myself on the path before them, but was brought up short again when Aiko pulled from within the folds of her kimono a large vial of red liquid and passed it to the soldier.
He discreetly slipped it inside his sleeves, gave her a small bow that she reciprocated, and then they parted ways, never once looking back at one another.
Nothing could have horrified nor devastated me more than to come to the awful conclusion that Aiko, my friend and confidant, had just handed over a vial of what appeared to be kami blood to a man involved with my father.
My stomach churned as pieces of the puzzle clicked together. All of those nightmares she claimed I was having, all of those sleeping draughts to keep me unconscious and unaware, my exhaustion and inability to recover as I was accustomed to, and the small wound on my arm when I awoke from healing my mother were due to Aiko’s duplicitous actions as she slowly bled me. All this time I assumed my father willingly gave his blood to his soldiers. I nearly wept at my own stupidity. As if the emperor might sacrifice his own blood for any venture.
And Aiko?
Did she understand what was being asked of her? Had she been coerced into following along with this plan? That had to be it. I knew Aiko, under normal circumstance, would never deliberately harm me nor help the emperor. She hated him as much as I did. I needed to talk to her, tell her of my discovery and offer her a chance to escape the palace before my father hurt or used her to force my cooperation.
I hurried to my rooms, praying that Aiko’s involvement didn’t extend any further than what I had just been witness to.
Chapter Two
After summoning Aiko, I paced back and forth within my room, anxious to face this confrontation head-on. I was already prepared to forgive Aiko anything so long as she simply told me what my father had done to her and how I might assist her now that I knew.
“Mistress,” she said as she entered the room, “you wished to see me?”
I motioned her forward. “Aiko, please sit down. I must speak with you concerning an extremely disturbing revelation.”
She placed herself at the edge of my bed as I grabbed one of the chairs and brought it within close proximity. I sat so that our knees were almost touching and then placed her hands in mine.
Her expression revealed nothing but a burgeoning curiosity, and I struggled to get a read on her feelings. “Mistress, what has happened that has you behaving in such a disconcerting manner?”
I waited to give a reply, still seeking a connection that didn’t exist. How long had she been blocking me from her emotions? That thought alone gave me cause for worry.
“I saw you in the gardens today, Aiko. I saw you with that soldier, giving him my blood.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Mistress, I don’t know what you’re talking—”
“Aiko, please, spare me the posturing and your useless words of denial. I think you are aware that my father has been attempting to bond my blood to his men under the guise of those ridiculous healing sessions. I’ve already noted the foreign entities in their bloodstreams. I simply had no idea it was my blood they were imbibing until I saw you hand a vial of red liquid to that man in the gardens.”
Aiko’s hands shook visibly in mine. She pulled away, wringing them together and then forcing them to rest on her lap.
“You’ve been bleeding me while I slept, haven’t you, Aiko? That’s why my sleeping draughts have been administered with more frequency. I didn’t really need them after all.”
Tears slipped down her face as she nodded her head.
“What you must think of me,” she whispered.
I grabbed her hands, anxious to reassure her, to give her a reason to trust me like she always had.
“I don’t think you did this because you wanted to. I don’t blame you, dear friend, please believe me.”
Aiko threw her arms around my neck and began heaving tired sobs. I ached for her as I held her and rocked her gently in my arms just as she had for me for the past seventeen years. Her grief appeared raw and real, but I was still troubled by the wall I continually ran into each time I attempted to sense her true emotional state. She had never been so closed off to me.
“The man you saw me with…he…he…approached me several months ago and informed me that the emperor wished to see me.”
“You weren’t summoned by my father’s regular guards?”
She pulled away, leaning back to look at me. “No. It was all very quiet and secretive. I didn’t see a single guard along the way, and there weren’t any in your father’’s study. Once I arrived, the emperor informed me of his concern for you and your health. He claimed that his physicians needed samples of your blood for testing purposes to make certain you would be ready for your ascension.”
My eyebrows rose at the audacity of such a bold-faced lie.
“What was your response to that?”
She let out a frustrated grunt. “I told him that you were the very picture of health. You had never been sick a day in all your life. He...had that man hit me a time or two after that.”
I clenched my jaw, outraged on her behalf.
“The emperor informed me that my opinions mattered little. For the good of my mistress and this empire, I was to take samples of your blood every night while you slept and deliver them to the man you saw me with in the garden. He said if I failed to do this or if I told anyone about my specific assignment, his guards would throw me in the dungeons and leave me to starve.””
I groaned at that. “Aiko, why on earth didn’t you immediately come to me? Why didn’t you tell me what my father had planned?””
Rivulets of tears ran sad tracks down both of her cheeks. “I thought there could be no harm in taking a little blood every night, and then he couldn’t hurt me, but most importantly he couldn’t hurt you. I didn’t want him anywhere near you, mistress. The things he has done to you, the nightmares you’ve had to endure. I simply couldn’t bear the thought of it.””
I nodded. It was as I suspected. Aiko, compromised due to her desire to protect me, went along with his nefarious plan, never once understanding the dire consequences of her actions. Placed in an impossible situation, she determined to keep the matter to herself. I had no intention of standing by and allowing this to continue. Aiko would be terrorized no further.
“Aiko, you must pack your things and leave the palace immediately.”
She nearly shot off the bed. “No, mistress,” she sobbed, “please, I know it was wrong, but you must allow me to stay with you.””
“Aiko,” I soothed, placing a hand on her arm, “this is not a punishment. This is an intervention. You are no longer safe here. I won’’t allow you to take more blood from me, and once you fail to perform your duties, my father will most likely have you killed...in front of me. It is essential that you escape the palace tonight.”
“But who will watch over you while I am away?”
“Katsu is more than capable of handling my father.” When he was actually present, anyway. Strengthening the veil had become more of a burden for him the last few days.
“Where will I go, and what kind of work could I possibly do?”
An idea began teasing at the corners of my mind. If I took her with me when I went
to train with Musubi tonight, I might be able to enlist his help in offering her protection and ushering her out of Kagami. It might work. It was certainly our only option. Remaining in Kagami or anywhere near the palace jeopardized her own welfare. It was my turn to protect my friend.
“Aiko, do you trust me?”
She blinked her eyes to clear away the tears and nodded.
“Then pack your things and be ready to leave the palace with me. We leave tonight.”
My plan involved Akane’s assistance. Yao or Chan would have to send word to her to meet me at the outskirts of her camp before my lesson with Musubi. I only hoped they would reach her in time.
* * *
As I waited for darkness to settle over the land and for Aiko to return from her quarters with her possessions packed, I paced my room—something I was becoming quite proficient at—and considered how increasingly dangerous my father had become. Leaving the palace and permanently joining the rebels seemed more inevitable and necessary as the days wore on. I desperately wanted to leave, but I felt there were too many things left unsettled between me and Katsu. I would also lose access to the emperor and any information I might have gleaned on behalf of the rebels.
I not only wanted to share the news of my involvement with the rebels, but I needed to. As Katsu’s friend, at the very least, I could offer him the truth. I certainly owed him that much consideration and respect.
Yet every time an opportunity presented itself, I hesitated. He hated my father as much as I did, but his unwavering sense of duty bound all of his choices and even his reasoning to achieving the goal of healing the veil by any means necessary. Could he turn from everything he believed to be right and good and adopt a new plan for his future? One that didn’t include our union? Would he come with me and join the rebels?
I shook my head, knowing his overprotective nature abhorred the thought of surrounding me with soldiers ready to do battle at a moment’s notice.
The real dilemma involved timing. Did I tell him we weren’t soul mates before I was prepared to leave with Kenji and Saigo? This particularly difficult conversation had to happen sooner rather than later. When he continually failed to heal me he would come to realize that this obstacle had more to do with our compatibility than my physical and spiritual ability to accept his ki.
As if my thoughts had summoned him to me, I heard a brief knock at my door and then in he came, looking just as magnificent, powerful, and worried as ever.
“Katsu,” I nearly choked. “Are you well? Is there anything I can do for you?”
He studied my eyes for a moment, probably to measure the intensity of their blood red color, hoping for some sign of improvement. When he found none he let out a defeated sigh and rubbed a hand over his tired face.
“How are you, Mikomi?”
“I…I am feeling more myself lately.” My sad attempt at throwing a positive spin on things did little to change the worry and concern that encompassed the whole of Katsu. I took in his exhausted appearance and ached for him. The burdens of the world hung like a dead weight across his sturdy shoulders; shoulders that appeared slanted and hunched over. These burdens were meant to be shared, but I was incapable of carrying my share of the load as I wished.
I needed to tell him the truth. I was desperate to tell him everything. Just as I opened my mouth to unload the entirety of my deception, Katsu spoke, derailing my good intentions.
“I thought that perhaps we might try something a little different this time.”
My eyebrows narrowed at this, and he pulled out his sword in response.
“All of my attempts at healing your ki have failed, and each failure leaves me more disheartened than before, though I am not averse to the method.” He granted me a little smile, and I colored as I thought back on the many times he had administered a kiss to bridge that connection.
“I think it’s hard on both of us, and it certainly doesn’t help your weakened state when our ki reject one another.”
“What else did you have in mind?”
“Do you remember that The Grass Cutter Sword amplifies the power of thousands of spirits’ ki from the other side of the veil?”
I considered where he might be going with this. “Yes, the power the sword is able to channel is incredible, much more than I can handle in the state I am in, especially as a half-mortal.”
“What if we use the power within the sword to bolster the energy in your ki? It may not allow you to accept me just yet, but there is a chance it could be powerful enough to heal what is broken within you.”
I thought it a good idea in regards to helping me heal internally, but I knew it would be useless to hope I might be able to accept Katsu, even with the extra power from the sword. No matter what, my soul would never accept his. Thus returning my thoughts to my earlier intent.
“Katsu—”
“You think it a bad idea?”
I took in his wistful manner and the way the small spark of hope twinkling from his beautiful brown orbs seemed to diminish before me. I couldn’t bear to be the cause of it.
“What would you have me do?”
He gave me a grateful smile and held his hand out. I willingly took it. He turned me so that my back rested against his chest, and then he brought the sword out in front of us.
“Place your hands on the grip of the sword,” he whispered close to my ear.
I tingled at his proximity, but forced my focus on the task he’d given me as I lifted my hands and grabbed the grip, tingling even further when he moved his hands over mine so that we wielded the sword together.
“Now, I want you to close your eyes and focus your energy into the sword. I don’t want you to touch the veil or even connect with it, I simply want you to channel your own ki into the sword and wait for further instructions.”
I nodded, closing my eyes and doing exactly what Katsu asked of me, though I felt hesitant at first. I remembered the enormous, almost debilitating amount of energy I experienced the first time Katsu gave me his sword and encouraged me to use it. Thousands of ki were at my disposal and the weight of so many spirits nearly crushed me.
I made a connection with the sword like I would a living being, which, in a sense, the sword was, and then I allowed its power to wash through me as thousands of spirits recognized my presence and then examined my own spirit in the process.
It was surreal to internalize their emotions. There was concern and anxiety on my behalf. A hint of fear resonated from those who recognized me and what I was meant to accomplish. Those spirits had a right to be distraught over my condition, considering what it might mean for them and for the veil.
Katsu added his own energy to the sword, channeling it through the grip and bringing it to bear against mine as he slowly enfolded my ki in a heated, yet hesitant embrace. There were hundreds of thousands of ki working around us, attempting to bolster the connection pulsing between Katsu and myself, gaining momentum and power until my mind’s eye saw a flash of white and then an explosion of pain seared my senses.
When I opened my eyes, Katsu still stood behind me, breathing heavily. I was surprised to discover that the entire experience had done nothing to me physically other than administer a sharp, burning pain before the connection broke off. I turned and guided him to my bed where I eased him into a sitting position.
“I take it your ki is still damaged?” he asked. He looked as if he was having a difficult time breathing.
“It remains unchanged, Katsu. I am so sorry this failed to work.”
He nodded and then stood to leave, but I intervened, thinking it unwise that he move considering his weakened state.
“Katsu, will you not rest for a little while longer? You have yet to recover your strength.”
He gifted me a rare smile and sat back upon my bed, patting the space next to him.
I looked at him in surprise, but acquiesced to his wishes. I had felt so very distant from him emotionally, though his smothering should have had the opposite effect. It
was nice to sit next to him in companionable silence.
I considered how he protected me, took care of me and defended me against my father. I thought about our easy friendship when other, more complicating factors should have prevented us from truly caring for one another.
Despite my abhorrence at being forced into a marriage with anyone, Katsu had become important to me; a most beloved friend. He was good inside and out, and I wished for the millionth time since I’d met him that my heart yearned for his instead of Musubi’s.
It would have made our current predicament easier to negotiate. My own choices might have been filled with less turmoil and more certainty, for hardly a choice need have been made, just an easy acceptance of a life crafted especially for myself and Katsu.
The irony of the entire situation struck me as cruel and unnecessary. Here was a man willing to enter into a relationship with me, one who believed it to be foreordained by our First Parents, but my heart resided elsewhere, and my soul mate remained unidentifiable.
I carefully studied the worry lines around his eyes, alarmed that he might be troubled enough for wrinkles and creases to actually make an appearance on his immortal face. I refused to burden him with the reality of our situation now. I couldn’t be responsible for etching another line into that comely face of his.
I fought for some subject that might distract him.
“Do you remember when you were given The Grass Cutter Sword, Katsu?”
He looked surprised by the question, but then the tired muscles in his jaw relaxed, and he seemed pleased that I might show interest in the subject.
“I do. When our First Parents created us, we were already blessed with the knowledge necessary to understand our purpose in this life and how our specific roles in this universe met harmoniously with all kami everywhere. This life is meant to be a happy one no matter the obstacles or difficulties that face human and kami alike.”
Despair settled in momentarily, leaving me to question what thoughts had just flitted across his mind. He collected himself and continued.
